Edge of the Woods Forestry for the Seventh Generation

(Originally Published in Turtle Quarterly, Fall, 1992)

"I think it's more than a coincidence that it's the Menominee that are leading the way in sustainable yield forestry," says Marshall Pecore, Forest Manager for Menominee Tribal Enterprises as he leans against the desk in his red oak paneled office at the Menominee Forestry Center in Keshena, Wisconsin.

The room is filled with the clean, wood smell of the lightly colored, beautifully grained paneling. Pecore says red oak, one of the more abundant species of trees among the 234,000 acres that comprise the Menominee Indian Reservation, is in high demand right now among builders and furniture manufacturers.

And with high demand goes high prices.

However, the lumber market is controlled by a fickle buying public, today's hot selling species may be tomorrow's scrap wood. With the present day, cutthroat, bottom line economic climate, wouldn't the logical course for the community be to cut down all the red oak as fast as they can and get it on the market?

Not according to the people of Menominee.

It has been their resistance to the "cut and run" game that has left the reservation as is today - an island of rich, diverse, profitable forest amid a sea of flat farmland.

Simply put, Pecore describes sustained yield forestry as "taking the worst and leaving the best."

The Menominee Nation's spiritual ties to the land and their deeply ingrained sense of responsibility to future generations made sustained yield or selective cutting the logical course of action.

"Even today at meetings with the community, they ask, What about my children? What about my grandchildren?" said Pecore. "The concept of sustained yield has transcended throughout history."

Throughout the last 135 years, the Menominee Nation has shown remarkable vigilance in protecting their forest. In 1865, when timber harvests were first recorded on the reservation, there was an estimated 1.5 billion board feet of timber. Within that 135 year span, about 2 billion board feet timber has been cut. The most recent inventory of timber volumes on the reservation indicates there is still 1.5 billion board feet of timber suitable for logging - the same volume of trees remains after 135 years of harvest on the same land. Compare this to the environmental devastation clear cutting has brought to the Pacific Northwest - the moonscape patches totally devoid of trees, the disruption of entire forest ecosystems, and the "cut 'em as fast as we can" mentality that has made people wonder if any harvestable timber will be left in Oregon, Washington and British Columbia in as little as 15 years.

"There's an old saying in the timber industry, you fit the mill to the resource not the resource to the mill," said Pecore.

However, Pecore is quick to point out that the forest does not exist merely for its own sake - it is a resource that must make Menominee nation money.

"This place kind of says, you can have your cake and eat it, too. It's a compromise between preservation and abuse."

What makes the Menominee Forestry Program work is the Continuous Forest Inventory (CFI). This plan, which describes the volume of forest by species, size class and acreage, is a blend of modern forestry and the time tested tribal land ethic. This allows for a continuous flow of logs to the mill, ensuring employment and tax revenue as well as beautiful forest.

About 220,000 acres are currently under intensive management, these trees serve as the resource base for the Menominee Tribal Enterprises Sawmill, which employs nearly half of all those working on the reservation. The forest is divided into 109 different compartments; the annual allowable cut is determined by the inventory data for each of those plots. The compartment management based on a 15 year cutting cycle - once a certain area is logged it is not cut over again for 15 years and only then if approved by the silviculturist - the person who coordinates information on tree growth for all the species in the area. Harvests for a particular year are slated for certain compartments within the forest and are regulated by a fairly rigid predetermined schedule.

Steve Heckman, silviculturist for Menominee Tribal Enterprises, said there are instances when the 15 year cycle will be altered. He cited wind damage or insect infestation as two examples when it would be imperative to remove the trees as soon as possible - the alternative is to watch them go to waste as they rot away.

Heckman turns his Bronco off the paved highway and onto a logging road, as the truck lurches over ruts and bumps he routinely points out species of trees from the driver's seat. He climbs out of the truck and begins to talk about the massive, telephone pole straight, white pines growing nearby. He complains about some of the more radical environmentalists whom he claims don't understand the ecology of the forest they profess to protect. "People see these old trees, " said Heckman, pointing to the stately pines, "they're 250-300 years old, they're so old people think, this is neat, let's keep these trees forever. Well, trees don't last forever."

"Through responsible management the Menominee Nation is able to get the best of both worlds," said Heckman. "Once these trees reach the peak of their development, it might be time for their harvest depending on many different factors." He motions to the area below the pines. By thinning out several of the mature trees, the growth of new white pines can begin, guaranteeing their survival for future generations. He compares the thinned-out stand of pines to an adjacent group that have grown close together. The under story is dark, cool and nearly lifeless, while the thinned-out section is a lush combination of small ground hugging plants, ferns and infant pines.

"This is state of the art forest," said Heckman. "What's here is not unique. The whole area used to be covered with trees like this but the Menominee made the decision a long time ago to preserve this."

Both Heckman and Pecore said they notice a growing interest in what is going on at Menominee. Groups from northern Canada, the western United States and even as far away as South America have visited to learn more about sustainable forestry.

Besides serving as a model for what could be the future of forestry, Menominee is also a model of cooperation. The Menominee Forestry Center also houses a U.S. Forest Service office and a Bureau of Indian Affairs office, the three groups seem to be working well together despite the legacy of government subterfuge and manipulation.

The federal government has been experimenting with the people of Menominee and their forest since 1890, when the Secretary of the Interior was authorized to permit the cutting of 20 million board feet of timber by the Menominee people. Senator Robert La Follette of Wisconsin was aware of the Menominee land ethic and ingrained environmental responsibility. He argued for the construction of a sawmill thereby creating a source of income and employment for the Menominee. LaFollette was confident they would learn from the mistakes of the whites, who by the turn of the century had exhausted most of the prime timber resources in the Great Lakes region.

The LaFollette Act of 1908 led to the creation of a modem sawmill and a town of 200, named Neopit, where the mill workers settled. By 1953, the U.S. Treasury had accumulated over $10.4 million in a special trust account set up by the 1908 act.

Under the 1887 Allotment Act, the U.S. government tried to force tribes to abandon communal ownership of lands and parcel it out for private ownership. The Menominee tribal leaders opposed this "divide and conquer" strategy, ensuring the continued well being of their land.

By the 1950's, federal policy was to assimilate Native Americans into mainstream culture. Citing the profitability of the sawmill operation, the B.I.A. was convinced the Menominee were ready for white society.

Federal protection was terminated in 1961 and the Menominee reservation became a county that was supported almost entirely by the sawmill. The trust fund was dispersed by Congress to tribal members as a per-capita payment to encourage support by tribal members for termination. This "bribe" helped tear apart the once unified community.

By 1973, the federal government realized the Menominee experiment had failed and trust status was reinstated. By transferring the holdings of the Menominee Tribal Organization back to the Department of the Interior, the huge tax burden that ownership of 230,000 acres of land brings, was removed from the shoulders of the lumber mill. The act also acknowledged that any sustainable forestry management plan should be implemented and operated by the Menominee.

Now, with the exception of the obligatory governmental approval of management plans and some technical assistance, the Menominee call the shots.

"There isn't too many examples of a state, federal and semi-private industry like this," said Heckman, employed by MTE for 12 years.

Voices of concern, usually from outside the community, ask what would happen if the single motivating factor of MTE was money.

"Menominee Tribal Enterprises is governed by a board made up of tribal members," said Pecore. "Some people say it's like letting the fox guard the chicken coop. Some people want to see roads and clear cuts, some people say, you know we could be pretty rich but usually the majority of the people agree with what we're doing."

Steve Arnold, a Menominee and a forester for MTE says the community would never stand for over cutting.

"At first we had a hard time convincing them to cut any trees," said Arnold. "They love them too much."

Arnold spends much of his time monitoring the logging crews working designated compartments ranging in size from 500 to 2000 acres. Of the 109 compartments, about five or six are cut per year.

"Sometimes an area looks like hell when you get a logging crew in there," says Arnold, "but it grows back. Most of these areas have been cut over four or five times."

Arnold and his partner Mike Warrington stop to talk with crews and make sure they are following management guidelines.

Warrington, who is trying to decide if he's ready to go back to school to pursue a career in forestry, said working with Arnold has given him a better understanding of the benefit of sustainable forestry - the long term financial security, and the opportunities for the next generation.

"I used to wonder, if we have all this great forest and the sawmill and everything, how come we're all not driving brand new cars."

The temptation, which has proven time and time again to be too great for white society to resist, has never blurred Menominee's vision of the future.

Outside of Marshall Pecore's office, there is a realization of how precious this place is. The air smells of the forest, not manure, like most of the Wisconsin landscape. For the Menominee, anything other than sustainable forestry may be unthinkable.

"I think once you're here," said Pecore "the forest forces you to do the right thing."