Daniel Felix, 10, looks up at an old redwood stump in his tribe's ancestral land. At one time, this forest on the North Coast of California was full of ancient behemoths that could live more than 2,000 years.
Only a small portion remains, cleared by a logging company before the state acquired the forest in the 1940s.
This is a unique public land, the Jackson Demonstration State Forest, which covers 50,000 acres. Trees are plentiful here, but they may not live for a thousand years. California's 14 demonstration forests are required to produce and sell timber to demonstrate – or “demonstrate” – sustainable practices. The logging fee — about $8.5 million a year — pays for forest management by the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, or Cal Fire.
Daniel's tribe, the Coyote Valley Band of Pomo Indians, is poised to take part in the cut – led by his late great-grandmother, Priscilla Hunter. They are part of a diverse coalition that includes environmental activists, local politicians and other nations.
Now they may finally get their wish. Assemblyman Chris Rogers (D-Santa Rosa) has introduced a bill that would repeal the deforestation mandate, instead prioritizing values like carbon storage, wildfire resilience and biodiversity.
The bill represents the latest chapter in a region known for fierce battles over logging, and marks an unusual alliance between tribes and the environmental movement.
Under Assembly Bill 2494, there would still be logging, but it would have to support those new regulations, and forests would be subsidized separately.
And it suggests another important change. It could pave the way for giving tribes a voice in land management for the first time since they were forcibly evicted more than a century ago, and integrating Aboriginal knowledge – such as cultural burning – into the forests.
“It's what we dreamed of,” said Polly Girvin, Hunter's ex-partner and a retired Native American attorney. “And to make it happen?
Children play on the stump of an old redwood during a potluck held after a spirit game at the Jackson Demonstration State Forest last month.
(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)
Some supporters say the bill provides a new economic path forward for communities behind the so-called redwood curtain. With less logging and cannabis, they see tourism driven by ultramarathons, mushroom foraging and other outdoor activities as a financial savior.
“If we had a 10% increase in visitors to our county for recreational opportunities, that would exceed the entire timber tax in our county,” said Mendocino County Supervisor Ted Williams, citing the increase in lodging tax revenue.
But the drive to reshape forest management is fiercely opposed by loggers and mill owners, who say their work is sustainable and provides hard-working jobs in the region where they have dwindled. California already imports most of its wood from Oregon, Washington and Canada.
“California has more laws and regulations than anywhere else in the world so all they're doing is sending the environmental impact from one place to another, while still using the product,” said Myles Anderson, owner of a Fort Bragg logging company founded by his grandfather. “It's really disgusting.”
Anderson believes the bill would greatly reduce logging, even stop it altogether. In his office, which has photos of him and his father at a logging site decades ago, he points out that it is sponsored by the Environmental Protection Information Center. Why would they and other environmental organizations “support you if they didn't see the same thing that I see?”
Last month, anti-logging activists in Jackson held their first large rally in nearly four years, encouraged by the bill, which they see as an important step in the right direction.
(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)
A new but old war
About five years ago, community members caught wind of plans to cut down the towering redwoods in Jackson, near the coastal town of Caspar. Priscilla Hunter would go out into the woods “and she could hear them crying – it was our ancestors,” said her daughter Melinda Hunter, the tribe's vice chairwoman. “Then he has to protect [the trees].”
Environmental activists and Native Americans, who are historically allies in the region, are joining forces to fight it. “Forest guards” stand high in the canopy and block the logging machines with their bodies. Others were arrested.
The uprising began in the 1980s and 1990s, when environmentalist Judi Bari led the Earth First! campaigns against logging in the region. Many of the old tree sitters – white haired and full of Bari stories – came out of the woodwork in the recent war.
For them, it was a victory. Cal Fire has temporarily halted sales of new logs and, citing public safety, halted others in progress — including one expected to make millions of dollars for Myles Anderson's logging company.
“We were left with nothing,” Anderson said.
Then last year, Cal Fire approved the first harvest plan since the rest period. It developed a large, environmentally conscious society.
Jessica Curl, 47, remembers growing up near “the place with the trunks” as trucks hauled logs. Now the redwoods are regrowing, “beautiful” and a great carbon sink, she said.
“We're lucky to live in a place where we have this amazing tool for mitigating climate change, so if we just left it alone we could do this amazing job of trying to think of all these great and smart things to do.”
Isidro Chavez receives burning sage, or blasphemy, after running in the Jackson Demonstration State Forest. Shame is a ritual used to cleanse places and individuals of negative energy, promote calmness and improve mood.
(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)
Tears of sorrow, resolve
A group of “spirit runners” – a Native American tradition of offering prayer – run through the Jackson forest as rain pours down on the canopy. The mid-April event marked the first large-scale gathering of activists since the protests subsided in 2022.
Those who attended the event gathered and formed a circle to wait for them. Misty Cook, of the Sherwood Valley Band of Pomo Indians, read the statement as misty eyes spread throughout:
“All living things around us, they miss us. They miss language. They miss our touch, our hands, touching everything – water, plants. They miss songs. They miss the sound of our steps and our voices, and they miss the laughter and play of children, which was very important. They want us to collect them, use them and share them. Otherwise they will get sick and possibly sick.”
Cal Fire has launched a national advisory council to bring aboriginal input to Jackson. But some local tribes say it is not enough because they do not have the power to make decisions.
When the runners arrived, the crowd absorbed them. They then proceeded to the proposed harvest site, Camp Eight. They wrapped Priscilla Hunter's belt around a small tree – a silent, mournful act in which she took her final stand. The runners took turns hugging each other.
The Redwoods at the Capitol
In March, Rogers' bill cleared committee and is now on file in the Assembly Appropriations committee. The case is scheduled for Thursday.
Funding is a major point of contention. Environmentalists say that funding these forests by cutting down trees encourages large-scale deforestation. Cal Fire keeps decisions driven by forest health, not industry need.
AB 2494 would fund forestry through a tax on lumber and engineered wood products. Change can create “[o]ongoing state costs and cost pressures of an unknown but potentially significant amount, likely in the low billions of dollars annually,” according to the legislative analysis.
The California Forestry Assn., a timber industry trade group, says the idea is a no-brainer.
Cal Fire declined to comment on the pending legislation but Kevin Conway, the agency's chief of staff for resource protection and improvement, said its nearly 80-year history of managing Jackson shows “care and attention.” Since the state acquired the forest, “we have more trees in the area, more habitat and those trees are getting bigger,” he said.
In nations that have gathered and prayed, the burning question is whether the country will once again express its opinion, or will it always be shaped by the decisions taken by others.
Buffie Campbell, executive director of the InterTribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council – co-founded by Priscilla Hunter and one of the groups supporting the bill – said young people will not be able to understand the importance of the legislation. Maybe that's a good thing.
“Maybe they don't need to know about all the fighting we have to do before they can go out and enjoy themselves and be tribal guardians in charge of their land.”
