There are people here who know the ins and outs of this issue far better than I do. But there are a couple of things that strike me as worth noting.

First, it's not just "some clown who builds in the wrong place." Example:— During the past few decades, Western Washington has been going through a population boom (sometimes called the "Californication of the Pacific Northwest"). People come here because of the high-tech jobs and the "lifestyle," which involves forests, mountains, water, mild climate, and outdoor recreational activities. This has made developable real estate extremely valuable. Real estate developers and contractors have been indulging in an orgy of "hack it out, pave it over, build on it, sell it for a wad of money, then go somewhere else and do it again." Once the houses are sold, the developer takes no responsibility for the fact that the whole housing development is built on a flood plain. There are several areas in this part of the state where old-time residents can and do say, "Don't build there!" But the developers do it anyway. By the time the waters rise, the developers and the real estate salesmen are long gone with their bags of money. It's no stretch of the imagination to assume that the same kind of thing goes on in lovely, pristine-looking forest areas that go through periodic burn cycles (which nobody cares to mention). By the time the place goes up in flames, the developer is long gone and forgotten.

And how forestry policies in this area are supposed to work, I haven't a clue. It seems that the future—and people—are just not part of the equation. The "bottom line" rules everything. Not too many decades ago, the Olympic Peninsula was covered by lush, thick virgin forest nurtured by rich soil and watered by moisture drifting in off the North Pacific—the habitat of thousands of species and a perfect example of The Forest Primeval. Not just "old growth." This was the essence of the Timeless. Within the past decade I've had a couple of occasions to drive the Olympic Loop Drive. Now, one sees vast stretches—mile after square mile—of tree stumps. Whole mountainsides have been denuded, making this once breathtakingly beautiful forest look as if it has been attacked by some gigantic plague of mange. Unless you actually drive through and see it for yourself, it's impossible to grasp the mind-boggling extent of the defoliation. A friend of ours visiting from Chicago had wanted to see the Olympic rain forest, and to get there from any direction, one has to drive through this landscape. As we drove, feeling a bit stunned at the devastation surrounding us, she said quietly, "It looks like a graveyard, with piles of bones scattered among the tombstones." Now, they want the Olympic Rain Forest itself (take a brief tour and let the forest soothe your soul). It's just about the only patch of old-growth forest left. "They" are not small, local logging companies trying to keep all the forestry workers who live on the Olympic Peninsula employed. "They" are multi-billion dollar companies like Weyerhauser, who clear-cut the forest and ship the logs to Japan! The Japanese who buy the logs saw them up into lumber over there, and then sell them back to us. A by-product of this little fandango is that a few years back the small cities of Aberdeen and Hoquiam, Washington had a depression all their own because they had to close the sawmills due to lack of business. All the logs were going overseas. But I guess I'm too naïve to grasp how this "keeps people working." [And then a little side-benefit of this is that all the clear-cutting is allowing run-off to silt up the rivers and streams where the North Pacific salmon spawn. Between this and overfishing, the salmon are dying off. The timber industry and the fishing industry blame each other for this.]

Just about the only laws to protect these few remaining patches of old-growth forest are those to preserve habitat for endangered species. It's creatures like the spotted owl who are saving—or, at least, delaying—the clear-cutting of these few remaining areas (I've often wondered why the Sitka Spruce, the Douglas Fir, and the Western Hemlock don't qualify as "endangered species."). If you raise any objection to allowing the timber companies to come along and log off the little that remains of the national forests, you're dismissed as some kind of "environmental radical" or a "tree hugger." Of course, the war-cry is "Logging is a dying industry and we must do something to preserve it! People need jobs!" The reason logging is a dying industry is that there are damned few trees left to cut! Yet, if they are turned loose, in another decade or two, there won't be any trees left at all! If you were to get a good look at what they've already accomplished on the Olympic Peninsula, you'll see that that's not an exaggeration.

Am I an environmental radical tree hugger? No, but I think a few trees are worth preserving just for old times' sake. And I'm just generally opposed to idiocy on such a Cosmic level.

Don Firth