California Forests
From Forests to Condos
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Uncertainty paves the way for forestland development
Small landowners face tough choices
By Allen Edwards
In 1993, the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection gave me "the last permit you'll ever need" to harvest trees on the 500 acres of timberland my family has owned for almost 60 years.
Well, it wasn't. I have needed additional permits every time I have harvested trees since then. I'll need more permits, from more agencies, in the years ahead. The regulations keep changing, making compliance more expensive and frequently shrinking the area of land that tree farmers like me can harvest.
My family and I have spent tens of thousands of hours nurturing our land in the Sierra Nevada foothills northeast of Sacramento, restoring into productive forestland what had been cut over for railroads and mines. We practice sustainable forestry that keeps our forest healthy, picturesque, and resistant to forest fires.
Yet, the regulatory maze we face adds costs and uncertainty that are pushing other forestland owners toward the "sure thing" of selling out to real estate development - the very thing regulators and "leave-the-forest-alone" protesters don't want.
Think about it. My land is zoned for timber production. If I'm going to make a living, I have to grow and harvest trees. I'm not trying to get rich quick -growing trees for lumber on a small scale is no formula for that, believe me. Trees only grow in value 2-5 percent a year and take decades to mature.
The uncertainty caused by constantly changing regulations - on top of the natural uncertainties of fire, beetles, drought or disease, and the economic uncertainties of a marketplace dominated by larger players - makes selling out very tempting, possibly even necessary.
My operation is frequently inspected, held to some of the highest forestry and water quality standards in the world. If I fail to install proper erosion controls or operate machinery too close to the creek, I face crippling fines.
Because I manage my land carefully, when a half-inch of rain falls, the creeks in my forest run clear. On the other hand, in the neighboring city and subdivisions, the creeks run brown.
My neighbors, with up to 20 acres each, can do as they please on their land. They can harvest trees without replanting. They can cut firewood without restriction; can subdivide and build - scraping the earth with road graders and sealing soils with asphalt - with virtually no requirement to protect wildlife or streams.
When neighbors are subject to regulations, it seems they are not always equally enforced.
The city sewage treatment facility on my boundary answers to the same regional water quality control board I do. But public records show the sewage plant has violated its permit conditions hundreds of times in the past few years, including dumping partially treated sewage into creeks. Yet there has been virtually no punishment.
In contrast, I have never violated a permit. Yet I have been subject to any number of delays.
Values beyond economics
Why haven't we sold out? Because this land is our home. We love it - that's why we take such good care of it with sustainable forestry. Yet, the many city dwellers that leave the urban life behind to enjoy the pleasures of the forest - without ever having worked in it - constantly cry out against our tree harvesting.
Our neighbors had a true awakening in 2001 when a catastrophic fire ripped through too-thickly forested, unmanaged lands, torched a nearby canyon, and raced toward their homes. It was on our land, thinned through selective logging and protected by our shaded fuel breaks, where the fire crews got the upper hand, saving the homes of the neighbors who protested our harvesting. I lost 100 acres to fire, and 10 acres more to bulldozer lines. But I was glad for the sake of my neighbors' homes. It was only then that some of them began to appreciate the value of good, sustainable forestry.
Uncertainty spells trouble
Our delays go beyond regulations and fire. In 1993, for example, protesters delayed our planned-and-approved harvest by a whole year. Markets shifted, and we lost a lot of money. Small forestland owners like myself all have tales like this to tell.
It's why so much forestland is being developed - there is far more certainty in selling out than in trying to sustain a forest and a family business at the same time. There is certain profit, and certain relief from changing regulations and personal attacks from people who don't understand forestry or natural resource management. There is also certain and permanent environmental change for the worse.
The Sacramento area is growing by leaps and bounds, with new development stretching further into Sierra communities. Until California policymakers start helping small forest landowners survive, the lure of sure profits will outweigh emotional ties to the land, and doom private forests one small parcel at a time.
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Allen Edwards a life-long tree farmer. Edwards retired from the California Energy Commission as a senior economist, and has been the owner/manager of the Edwards Family Tree Farm since 1976. He was California's Tree Farmer of the Year in 2002.