A nature hike in the mall
By Andrew Smith

It's probably been said before that too much politics is a blight on the soul. We humans like to bicker, and to argue, and to force our points of view upon our poor fellows. And, in so doing, we make life tolerably miserable for the greater part of humanity the greater part of the time. And sometimes a person just needs to get away.

That's what the forest is for, among other things; it's a nice place to get away. In the forest you can walk amongst the silent trees and say anything you want. Or better yet, listen. You'll never hear an argument out of them. Even if you've come to cut one down, they'll never complain. Trees just are. They don't have to justify it. They're just there. Like it or not.

The forest, it seems, is a place beyond politics. It's a place where things just are. Some people won't believe this, but there are spots in the Black Hills where you can still find timber stands that have never been cut. Stands of virgin, relatively ancient, forest. The old punkins arch over the forest floor, sending snaky limbs like twisted arms reaching for the ground. They're rotten, and hollow, and as free from political affiliation as any living thing can be. Real old-growth.

Wait! Did I say old-growth!? Eeeks! Here we are back in politics again!

Old-growth! The very word makes so-called environmentalists get all misty eyed at the same time it makes so-called resource users, like myself, cringe in dismay. The word has become the battle cry of the tree huggers, and darn near a cussword to the rest of us. Save the old-growth! Or save us from those who would save the old-growth!

But what is old-growth, anyway? As I understand it, old-growth is an area of forested land that has had minimal human impact for a relatively long time. The prevailing stereotype of an old-growth forest is one where the trees are large and old, and the canopy is dense. The old trees are frequently rotten, and provide nesting places for many animals in their hollows. Also, many standing, and down, dead trees provide even more wildlife habitat. The forest is at a mature successional stage, meaning that it contains a diverse mix of species.

So that's old-growth, but what's so good about it? Environmental groups are always hammering the Forest Service for not preserving enough old-growth. Why?

I think, first of all, old-growth is a powerful political tool. Everyone likes big trees. I certainly do. It's relatively easy to crusade against cutting old-growth forests. They look great in photos. Secondly, there are some species that prefer old-growth habitat, and can't, or won't, live elsewhere. This can bring the Endangered Species Act into the picture, which, again, makes old-growth a very powerful tool. I probably don't need to mention that knowledgeable people on both sides of the issue can argue for days about which species actually need old-growth, and how much they do need.

Here in the Black Hills, the Forest Service has taken to identifying and setting aside some "old-growth" in every management area. Of course, or I would have nothing to write about, the environmental groups say it's not enough. They want more of the forest returned to this dense, primeval condition. They want less logging. They want a condition closer to what the forest looked like before man "interfered."

Look at the ongoing appeals of the timber sales in the Norbeck Wildlife Preserve. For 20 years now the Forest Service has been planning to open the forest, remove some timber, and in the process let light into the forest floor to stimulate the growth of shrubs and forbs that big game actually eat. The Sierra club argues that the area should be protected as an old-growth forest; that is, it should remain dense.

And that's where they lose me, I guess. Because I don't think there ever was a great deal of large, dense, decaying "old-growth" in the Black Hills. The model of old-growth that is commonly used here was developed in the wet Pacific Northwest, and doesn't really apply to a dry forest, like the Black Hills. I don't think that what the Sierra Club is trying to preserve really is old-growth. It's a myth of old-growth, from someplace else, transported to the Black Hills.

Look at any pictures of the Black Hills taken before the 1930's and you will see a very barren forest, compared to what we have today. Custer's photos show a very open landscape, not a dense, dark forest. Photos of Pilot Knob, near where I live, taken in the 1920's show an almost bare rock with a few trees on it. Today you cannot see the rock at all, except near the very top.

Walk through the forest. Occasionally you will come across areas that were logged at the turn of the century, or before. These areas are identifiable because the stumps of the trees that were cut still remain. Cut with a crosscut saw and an axe, they are usually nearly waist high. The old wood is rot resistant enough that it's often still hard, even after over a century.

But when you look at the wide spacing of these old stumps you get the impression of a very open, grassy forest; not a dense one.

So you could make the argument that to return the Black Hills to something closer to its natural condition, if that's a desirable goal, more logging would be required, not less.

The forest we see around us today is largely man-created. With fire suppression and logging we have created a forest that's artificially dense. Even those ancient stands of "virgin" timber are in an unnatural condition, because they haven't been allowed to burn in over 100 years. And if they did burn, those big dead snags, even those big trees, probably would not be nearly so numerous.

So where does this leave a guy like myself, someone who fantasizes about going out in the woods to avoid politics?

I guess there is no avoiding it. If man is a part of nature, then his politics are a part of nature as well. And any choice we make will be as natural as can be.

So on second thought, maybe I should just go to the mall.