When veteran logger Don Hamann talks about the future of a profession whittled down in recent years by a growing economy and environmental restrictions, he beams with optimism.
"There is an incredible opportunity out there," he said. "Not only an opportunity but an incredibly important task that needs to be done.
"Part of it is educating people, particularly the next generation, to do the work and understand the need," said the Butte Falls resident.
"There is lots and lots of work out there."
No, the man who has been harvesting timber for more than a quarter of a century in southwestern Oregon hasn't had his hard hat rung by one too many logging chains.
He is referring to a future in which former adversaries — loggers, environmentalists and the U.S. Bureau of Land Management — work together to improve forest health, reduce potential for catastrophic wildfires and create more jobs.
His logging firm, Don Hamann Inc., has teamed up with the BLM, Lomakatsi Ecological Services Inc. and the Siskiyou Project, an environmental group based in Josephine County, to manage up to 2,000 acres in the Illinois Valley over the next seven years.
Called the South Stew stewardship, it's in the BLM's Grants Pass Resource Area. Lomakatsi, a community-based ecological forestry group, is the lead contractor.
"Restoration forestry is about trying to recover a site," explained Marko Bey, president and co-founder. "We get the product out as a by-product of the work. The goal of stewardship is also to find new markets, to be innovative on how we deal with this material."
Thinning projects provide small logs for local mills, smaller-diameter wood products to niche markets and woody debris to bio-electricity generators.
Not everyone within the environmental community is supportive of the effort, acknowledged Shane Jimerfield, executive director of the Siskiyou Project.
"We are going to get some criticism for supporting people with chain saws," he said. "But the reality of it is the work needs to be done. In order to get where we need to go, some work needs to happen in these forests.
"I've seen the polarization, the demonizing of both sides," he added. "It's time to move on. I'm hoping the war is over."
"The time has come for people to work together," Bey said. "Everybody involved in this is putting their necks out. It's part of an evolution in the woods, a lot of which is being pioneered in Southern Oregon. But the mutual goal is to recover these lands."
Congress gave the BLM the authority to issue stewardship contracts in 2003. They provide a goods-for-service exchange that allows community groups to harvest and sell merchantable material that most large commercial timber firms would not find cost-effective to harvest.
"Stewardship allows the conservation community to be a key member at the table," said Oshana Catranides, a Siskiyou Project member.
The contracts that are aimed at boosting local employment save taxpayers money, said Jim Whittington, spokesman for the BLM's Medford District.
"With a stewardship contract, we have the flexibility to move around different areas where we need some kind of treatment," he said.
"It's a restoration-based treatment which includes a bunch of different things we might normally do under individual contracts," he added. "For instance, it's not just reducing the potential for a hazardous wildfire but also doing things like protecting red tree vole habitat."
The stewardship contract has more than two dozen objectives, thus saving money over having one contract for each goal, Whittington noted.
"We want to see these contracts increase significantly over the coming years," he said, noting that South Stew is one of three such contracts now under way in the district. "We're learning a lot from the ones going on now. We want to increase the speed of getting these projects on line in the future."
Some of the planned work on the South Stew is being held up by a decision by the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in San Francisco. To comply with the Endangered Species Act, the court said, the BLM must conduct a second biological opinion regarding the impact on northern spotted owls in consultation with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. The service had withdrawn its earlier biological opinion.
On a recent visit to a stewardship site a few miles southeast of Selma, a chipper could be heard chomping up slash for biomass. Near the top of the ridge, a D-4 bulldozer dragged fir logs about a foot in diameter to a landing. Several chain saws buzzed away as workers thinned brush and small trees, leaving the large black oaks, sugar pine and madrone.
Thanks to decades of wildfire suppression, Douglas fir has been encroaching on the pine and oak habitat, Whittington noted.
"We are going to open it up and let the pines and oak and madrone that are used to this environment have more space to grow," Whittington said.
Taking a break after falling a fir tree perhaps a foot in diameter at the base was Jake Hamann, 26, youngest son of Don Hamann. The young timber faller, who had gotten up at 3:30 a.m. that day, relaxed with his Stihl chain saw and 32-inch bar resting on his shoulder.
"I love being out here," he said. "I grew up in the woods. You can't beat it. You make a lot of good friends out here."
Noting the pay is between $17 and $20 an hour, he doesn't have any complaints when it comes to a paycheck.
"We make a pretty good living," he said. "It's better than any job I could get in town. Of course, you do get wet in the winter and hot in the summer."
Lomakatsi has a core group of 40 people working on the contract with hourly pay ranging from $12.50 up to $30, depending on the work being done, Bey said.
"We pay a decent wage — that's part of our mission," Bey said.
A living wage for people working in the woods is essential, said Don Hamann, who has five people employed at the site.
The 1970 graduate of Eagle Point High School said it took him some time for his perspective on logging to evolve from cutting mainly large trees to taking a more ecological approach.
"Thirty years ago I didn't understand as much as I do now about working in the woods," he said. "I didn't have the same understanding of our national economy, of the global economy, of the need for management."
He cited local forestry consultant Marty Main and others for giving him a new perspective.
"About 1994 Marty began to plant little seeds in my little brain," Hamann said. "Now I love doing the management work. It's a wholistic approach."
That means an approach that involves the local community, ecology and the economy, he explained.
"Teaching people about the environment, about what goes on out here, that's one of my passions now," he said. "And I like to share knowledge about managing our natural resource — that's what it's all about.
"As you get into one of these projects, you realize there is a lot to collaboration," he added of working with Bey, Jimerfield and others. "Their skills are very valuable to me to complement what I do."
Yet the loggers are also teaching them, said Justin Collumbine, vice president of Lomakatsi.
"We are teaching them about a different approach on the ground," Collumbine said. "But the loggers are teaching us that impacts are a reality, that things are going to look a little mucked up at first.
"People are telling us we should have started doing this 20 years ago," he said. "But a lot of this is trust building between the agencies, environmental groups and contractors."
Building trust and learning from each other are vital if collaboration is going to work in the woods, Bey stressed.
"It's people like Don on the timber side with a willingness to bend that can make this work," Bey said. "We're coming at it from the restoration side. But we're not loggers. We need their expertise."
The BLM, which normally marks trees to be cut, has demonstrated its willingness to work with the diverse factions, he said.
"We laid out the prescription — we marked the trees," Bey said. "We meet the end result they want by meeting it on the ground in an ecologically sound fashion. We are developing a trust."
The Siskiyou Project will monitor the sites where work is being done to keep tabs on the ecological impact, Jimerfield said.
"We feel this is a short-term disturbance for what is hopefully a long-term gain," he said. "For us, the ecology is largely the most important thing — that is our niche. But everyone involved is carrying their interest. We can all move forward together. No one is carrying a disproportionate power or interest."
Before heading down the ridge to thin more trees, Jake Hamann considered the future. He observed that he and his wife, Marlisa, have a 4-month-old boy named Gage.
"I don't know if he will follow my footsteps," he said. "I guess we will see what happens in the next 15 or 20 years. A lot will unfold between now and then.
"But I think there is a future with this work," concluded the second-generation logger.
Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at pfattig@mailtribune.com.