A sane timber resolution lies in reach

NOTE: GUEST COMMENT
Loggers shout, environmentalists wail, bureaucrats duck - and our forests linger in limbo.

But it need not remain so: A solution to the dilemma stands close at hand. We need only summon the political will, the ecological vision, and a renewed appreciation for the American genius for compromise.

It's a solution simple in concept and complex in execution. Its implementation will require us to redefine the timber industry, weave together the tatters of trust and think in terms of the 500-year cycles of trees rather than the two-year cycles of elections.

But before revealing ``the solution to all our problems,'' let me suggest that in the past century, we've wrenched forest ecosystems in the southwest beyond any easy repair.

The pre-European settlement forests of the Southwest looked dramatically different than today's heavily logged treescapes, according to pioneers and the testimony of stumps and computers.

Fires burned through those ancient forests every three to seven years, thinning out small trees, rejuvenating the rich grassy understory and barely bothering the old-growth, thick-barked giant trees. These regular fires created an ecological mosaic, with meadows, aspen stands, grasses, patches of new pines, and large areas dominated by gigantic, widely-spaced trees - with tree densities of 30 to 75 trees per acre.

Then we changed everything. Cattle, fire suppression, and logging all increased pine seedling germination as we destroyed 95 percent of the old growth forests. Now, our repeatedly logged forest struggle to find an ecological balance with 300 to 1,500 small, stunted trees per acre.

Old growth dependent species like the goshawk and the Mexican spotted owl flutter toward extinction and forest managers worry about massive insect infestations and crown fires. The 36-inch diameter trees that once dominated the landscape are now so rare they don't even show up on the tree-counters' inventory while the cathedral-like old-growth patches people prefer for recreation have almost disappeared.

This transformation has produced a political logjam.

Environmentalists have gone to court to protect the remaining fragments of old growth from the loggers.

They angrily denounce the environmental damage and the federal subsidy of logging that works out to about $23,000 per logger job in the Southwest.

Meanwhile, the loggers and their backers have grown increasingly shrill - worried about lost jobs and profits. They emphasize the economic importance of logging in rural communities. Meanwhile, they clog the streets of the capitol with logging trucks, jam ecologically disastrous ``salvage logging'' bills through Congress and work to gut the environmental laws.

Can two such diametrically opposed views ever be reconciled?

Actually, they can.

If you look closely, you can see hope glimmering through the work of Northern Arizona University researchers led by Margaret Moore and Wally Covington. They have documented the dramatic change in tree densities in Ponderosa pine forests.

Now, they're working with the federal Bureau of Land Management at Mount Trumbell to see whether reformed forest management and a redirected timber industry can be used to restore those ``old growth'' conditions. The theory worked pretty well on an 11-acre patch of forest near Flagstaff - where thinning the small trees and leaving almost all trees larger than 16-inches in diameter produced a roughly $1,000-per-acre profit - about one-tenth the profit that would have flowed from a traditional cut focusing on the largest trees.

So, here's the deal: Why not redefine the role of the timber industry in the public forests? Let's set as our goal restoring half of the public forests to old-growth conditions in the course of the next century. That will protect wildlife, satisfy environmentalists, and provide beautiful forests for hunters, hikers, campers, tourists and others.

Ultimately, this will provide a much stronger economic base for rural economies in the coming decades than continuing to run our forests as tree farms. Let's start by letting stand nearly every existing tree larger than 16-18 inches in diameter - so they can grow into the 36-inch trees of a true old-growth forest. If the Forest Service and the loggers swear off the larger trees, they'll convince the environmentalists they've turned over a new leaf.

Then let's use the timber industry to clear away most of the trees smaller than 16 inches - leaving just enough to replace the 18-inchers that will die off in 300 to 500 years.

In fact, the timber industry may be essential in this regard. Even if we could summon the political will to use forest fires to thin the thickets, a century's accumulation of small trees and dead wood could make those fires far too destructive.

Granted, a timber industry based on old growth restoration won't produce nearly the per-acre profits offered by the present system. On the other hand - it's sustainable. We could ensure a steady, 200-year supply of small trees for a slimmer, ecologically sound, long-term timber industry.

Of course, such a plan faces many obstacles. After so much bitterness, can the two sides trust one another? Can the Forest Service regain the credibility necessary to manage the shift?

Will Congress let the experts come up with a workable plan? Can the timber industry devise enough small-wood products? Can we promise enough small trees to convince the timber industry to retool mills?

Right now, we can't provide clear answers to some of these crucial questions. But if we can agree on the goal, we can surely clarify the details later.

Peter Aleshire teaches at Arizona State University West and writes frequently about the environment. He can be reached via e-mail at Aleshire@indirect.com.

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