Big Timber Swap Hits Snag -- Protected Birds Discovered On Plum Creek Parcel; Tree Sitters Seek New Deal, Find Allies In Logging Town

WATCH MOUNTAIN, Lewis County - Activists living in old-growth trees here to protest a controversial land exchange have received a big boost from tree sitters at the north end of the exchange: marbled murrelets, just discovered in parcels to be traded to Plum Creek Timber.

The timber company and U.S. Forest Service were supposed to exchange deeds last Sunday to complete the so-called I-90 land swap, approved by Congress in October 1998.

But the discovery of the federally protected birds kills the timber company's ability to cut Douglas fir on about 1,000 acres of the land it was to receive. Plum Creek biologists surveying the site in mid-June discovered the birds.

And Plum Creek wants to cut trees, not losses.

The deal is off unless a trade of equal value can be re-negotiated, said Jim Kraft, vice president and general counsel for Plum Creek. All sides to the trade agreed Friday to put off the exchange of deeds until October so they can figure out what to do.

Making changes in the exchange won't be easy.

The land swap was executed by Congress, with every section of land to be traded enumerated in the law. Almost any change would take federal legislation.

Plum Creek is "considering all options," Kraft said, from a trade with other lands to a reduction of the amount of Plum Creek land in the swap or even a straight cash transfer.

"At the end of the day, it has to be a value-for-value exchange," Kraft said.

Background on the deal

The swap is the result of years of negotiations begun in 1996. Under it, Plum Creek trades away more than 62,000 acres of land, much of it in the alpine back country of the Cascades, for 15,800 acres of prime public timberland.

The deal is the biggest in the Northwest in 50 years, affecting land from the Alpine Lakes Wilderness to Mount St. Helens, including parcels in three national forests.

And it is very controversial.

Environmentalists have been divided on the I-90 land exchange. Many groups, most prominently the local chapter of the Sierra Club, helped negotiate the exchange and are strong supporters because it helps preserve long-sought wilderness areas.

But almost two weeks ago, other activists opposed to the exchange took up residence in big old Douglas fir trees on Watch Mountain, just above the town of Randle.

The tree sitters say they won't come down from the 150-foot-high perch until they receive written assurance the land swap is on hold.

"We are holding our ground," said Kim Marks of Cascadia Defense Network, which is coordinating the tree sit. The delay in the swap gives activists more time to reach out to Randle residents and enlist them in the fight for the trees, Marks said.

Randle is a timber town, with the clear-cuts to prove it. But some residents say they don't want Watch Mountain, in plain view from the main road through Randle, to be shaved clean like so many other hillsides around town.

Others worry about landslides, water quality and contamination from pesticides sprayed on cut-over land.

The tree sitters are holding a town meeting next week to gather residents concerned about the land swap.

Now that the surprise marbled-murrelet sighting has delayed the exchange, opponents say they, too, would like to change the terms of the deal.

"We want to protect these remnant old-growth and roadless areas," said David Atcheson of the Pacific Crest Biodiversity Project.

"There's no way I could support wiping those areas out by trading them to Plum Creek. We are still seeing what we can do. If Plum Creek is going to Congress to get a fix, then we should, too."

Janine Blaeloch of the Western Land Exchange said she fears the timber company's problems will be solved with a quick amendment lobbied through Congress by Plum Creek.

Instead, she said, the entire swap should be repealed and re-worked through the usual administrative process instead of a legislated deal.

Timber-town allies

Some Randle residents are amazed the deal is in turmoil. They are even more amazed activists would care about the remnants of forest above their little town deep in the heart of timber country.

"I didn't think we would ever see that in Randle," said Judy Roberts, a 25-year resident who owns a business directly below the area to be traded and cut.

"It's been such a heavily logged area that we wouldn't have thought there would be people who want to save it. I hope they are successful."

She said she feels ambivalent about continuing to fight the exchange. "I feel I am in a little bit of a delicate position. This is a timber town. Following the procedures set up to stop this so far hasn't done us any good. And I need to keep a relationship with Plum Creek. That's the way it is in timber country."

But some residents are helping the tree sitters. Wayne Bohall, 32, has spent his career working in the woods and timber mills.

He was on Watch Mountain on Friday, in steel-toed boots, muscle shirt and shades, his jeans clasped with a Winchester belt buckle, visiting the tree sitters. He brought them dry firewood and was contemplating a climb to one of the platforms to say hello.

"I think this is really good. I wish the locals would do the same," he said of the tree sit. "A lot of us come here for hiking, hunting, recreation, gathering firewood. I come up here when I work swing shift sometimes just to watch it snow."

`I want some trees left'

These public lands are close to town, and residents have come to rely on them as their own private getaway. The heavily forested mountain is covered with 120-year-old trees and some remnants of giant old growth.

"Every person in town looks at this mountain every day. They need to consider if they want every bit of it to look like the pieces on the west end of town," Bohall said. "That's not the way I want our forests to end up. They need to cut timber, but they need to look at the environment. They cut this and there won't be mushrooms to gather with my kids for 30 years."

Lois Cook, 70, has lived in Randle since 1964 and watched forest after forest around her home fall to the saw.

"We need to protect the old-growth timber that is left. I want some trees left for my grandchildren. Watch Mountain should be made into a park. It's a beautiful place, a paradise."

Asked about the tree sitters, she exclaimed, "Bless their hearts!"

Harry Cody, district ranger for the Gifford Pinchot National Forest based in Randle, echoes the ambivalent feelings about the land exchange. While it benefits wildlife and hikers in the I-90 corridor, it pains him to see local residents lose their public land.

"My official position is to support the exchange. But I am concerned about our image, as being part of taking away public lands that people here feel very close to. From a regional perspective there may be a benefit, but there is quite an impact locally."

Tree sitter fears heights

Forest Service policy allows the activists to remain in the tree village as long as they like, providing they don't hurt anything or anyone and no one person stays more than 48 days.

The activists have taken names like Fossil, Jade and Opal for use in the tree village. They have named the trees they sleep in Homestead, Endurance, Unity and Confrontation.

Four levels of platforms have been erected 150 feet up the massive trunk of Homestead, a big Douglas fir. Another platform, named Nuthatch, swings from ropes slung between the three other trees.

The population in the camp has ranged from 10 to as many as 25 people. The activists rotate in and out of the trees, balancing their stays with families and jobs back home.

On Friday morning, Sarah Vekasi of Olympia rappelled down to the forest floor to describe her night alone on a swinging, four-by-eight sheet of plywood slung between three giant firs.

"The motion of the platform is very subtle and calming; it moves slowly in the wind like a hammock," Vekasi said. As night fell, she watched lightning play on distant hills.

"We want to defend this area until it is saved. We are concerned about the residents of Randle. If they cut these trees, it would mean a disastrous landslide," Vekasi said.

"I'm actually really afraid of heights, but to save this area, it doesn't mean anything. I look down at the mountain, at the trees poking through the fog, and it is so silent, so beautiful.

"It's who I am to do whatever it takes to save wild places."

Lynda Mapes' phone message number is 206-464-2736. Her e-mail address is lmapes@seattletimes.com