Sherwood State Forest in Washington’s Mason County escaped the industrial clear-cutting that transformed much of the Northwest last century.
It was selectively logged in the early 1900s, but while nearby areas were converted to farmland or tree plantations, Sherwood was left largely undisturbed, eventually regenerating into a forest with 100-year-old trees.
“Seeing cedar trees that were harvested here by my ancestors gave me great pride,” said Redwolf Krise, a Squaxin Island tribal member who advises the group Mason County Climate Justice. “But knowing this is one of the last remaining forests around the Squaxin territory where I can go and harvest from the same trees as my ancestors has been disheartening.”
Last year, those islands of protected forest shrank even further as Washington’s Department of Natural Resources auctioned off rights to log almost 160 acres of Sherwood Forest, located about 40 miles southwest of Seattle.
The area with its big trees was clear-cut soon after.
This story is hardly unique. Throughout Western Washington, pockets of state forestlands that were logged in the early 1900s have regrown into ecosystems that sequester tons of carbon and serve as valuable wildlife habitat.
Their trees haven’t yet attained the 160 years that qualifies as old growth west of the Cascade Range, but they could reach that point well within the lifetimes of people alive today.
“These forests are the old growth of the future,” said Joshua Wright, a Mason County Climate Justice board member who also works for the Legacy Forest Defense Coalition.
These regrown forests also represent a potential bonanza for timber companies, however, and they don’t benefit from protections given to most old growth on state lands. The Department of Natural Resources has proposed or completed timber sales in many of them, including several forests in Mason County.
The issue isn’t that the Department of Natural Resources must log old trees to keep up with demand for wood. Most of the agency’s holdings consist of younger forests, many of which are already managed as industrial tree plantations.
However, old forests’ big, dense trees are highly valued for their lumber.
“DNR is deliberately targeting older forests to satisfy the logging industry,” Wright said. “As long as that’s their guiding star, there’s going to be mismanagement.”
‘Legacy forests’
“Most climate mitigation work focuses on reducing emissions,” said Lynn Fitz-Hugh, a longtime climate activist from Olympia. “But what actually draws carbon from the atmosphere, subtracting from the problem instead of just lessening it, are trees, plants and the oceans. That’s why I started concentrating on forests.”
Fitz-Hugh directs Restoring Earth Connection, one of several Washington environmental organizations advocating protection of what they call “legacy forests.”
Some groups are concerned with big trees as endangered species habitat, while others worry about the role of forests in stream health. The ability of old trees to sequester vast amounts of carbon adds another dimension to the conversation.
“There’s a lot of out-of-date science about the forest carbon cycle,” Fitz-Hugh said. “We used to think young, fast-growing trees were best at absorbing carbon. But the new science shows something different.”
A paper published last year by the independent research nonprofit Resources for the Future found mature forests sequester more carbon than younger trees do. Environmental groups have coined the term “legacy forest” to describe ecosystems that are old enough to fulfill this and other vital functions, but that haven’t yet attained old-growth status.
“These naturally regenerated, second-growth forests are often the closest thing to old growth left in their watersheds,” said Stephen Kropp, founder of the Center for Responsible Forestry and the Legacy Forest Defense Coalition. “They were logged back when there were no chain saws, herbicides or gasoline-powered logging trucks. The harvesting was done by hand and left a lot behind.”
This type of logging allowed legacy forests to grow back with a rich diversity of tree and other plant species. Some are even sprinkled with surviving old growth.
For example, Stimson Hill in Snohomish County, called a legacy forest by groups such as the Legacy Forest Defense Coalition of Washington, contains 400-year-old Douglas firs.
The Department of Natural Resources generally protects forests in which 20 percent or more of trees qualify as old growth, but Stimson Hill doesn’t meet this definition. Last spring, the department put 152 acres of the forest up for auction, and modern logging methods are unlikely to leave many of the original trees.
“Current forestry means bulldozing almost everything, spraying the land with herbicides, then turning it into a tree plantation,” Fitz-Hugh said. “This eliminates the possibility of it returning to the state older forests are in today. It’s a devastating loss.”
According to the Legacy Forest Defense Coalition, just 13.2 percent of state forest lands in Washington are legacy or old growth.
Evolving attitudes
Washington’s Department of Natural Resources oversees some 3 million acres of forestlands, managed to generate revenue for counties and the state.
State trust lands, which make up the majority of Department of Natural Resources holdings, are legally mandated to produce money for public institutions including K-12 schools, universities and prisons. Historically, the Department of Natural Resources has fulfilled this obligation mainly by holding timber sales.
Timber sale money “funds school construction and maintenance across the state, and … directly benefits individual counties and the local taxing districts,” Duane Emmons, assistant deputy supervisor for state uplands at the Department of Natural Resources, told Columbia Insight in an email. “We generate an average of $200 million per year in non-tax revenue from our timber sales.”
The legal framework for managing Department of Natural Resources lands dates to 1889, when Washington attained statehood. Then, trees were seen as crops whose value lay in the boards they produced.
Public attitudes have shifted since, with scientists recognizing the roles of older forests as havens for endangered species and bulwarks against climate change.
A 2022 Washington Supreme Court decision, Conservation Northwest v. Commissioner of Public Lands, affirmed that while the Department of Natural Resources must manage state lands to generate revenue, it may do so through means other than logging.
“They don’t have to be cutting legacy forests,” Wright said. “They could make money from these lands by selling carbon credits, or even berry-picking for that matter. There’s no mandate to do it by logging.”
However, the conversation about logging in the Pacific Northwest is as much about a way of life tied to using the land as it is about money generated directly from timber sales.
“Our sawmill relies on mature timber from DNR state trust lands that are being politically labeled as ‘legacy forests’ by anti-forestry groups,” said Jake Hambidge of the Everett-based Canyon Lumber Co. “Our company and other specialty mills across Washington rely on this mature timber to produce renewable, climate-friendly wood products.”
Counties that receive timber revenue have historically supported logging Department of Natural Resources lands. Many still do, but others have shifted positions as voters embraced environmental values.
Last year, a majority of King County Council members wrote to the Department of Natural Resources opposing the Wishbone timber sale northeast of Seattle. The Thurston County Commission unanimously opposed the Carrot sale in the Capitol State Forest.
Court Stanley, a timber consultant for the Washington State Association of Counties, said the organization “supports each individual county’s right to say what they want done within their lines. At a higher level, though, our perspective is DNR practices state-of-the-art, environmentally sustainable forestry.”
“This whole controversy over older forests is only possible because DNR managed forests to a level of maturity most industrial timberlands never reach. But they’ve always done so with the intent of harvesting these lands eventually,” Stanley said.
Uncertain future
Since part of Sherwood State Forest was clear-cut last year, activists have watched logging trucks haul large trees away from another Mason County timber project, the Plumb Bob sale northwest of Belfair.
Now, local climate groups and members of the Skokomish Tribe are fighting yet another: the 92-acre Next Contestant timber sale near Lake Cushman.
“The Next Contestant sale affects legacy forest that’s vitally important to both Skokomish tribal members and the general public,” said Julianne Gale, Mason County Climate Justice’s executive director. “Clear-cutting it would impact historic and cultural sites and habitat for plants, fish and other wildlife.”
Logged legacy forests in Mason County and elsewhere will be replanted. However, what grows back won’t closely resemble the ecosystem that activists sought to protect.
Industrial timberlands are generally replanted with fast-growing Douglas firs, sometimes mixed with another species like cedar, that give rise to plantations of even-aged trees designed to maximize wood production. They support less biodiversity than the complex ecosystems in old-growth and legacy forests.
Some legacy forests have been saved from bulldozers by legal challenges, at least temporarily. For example, the 102-acre Wishbone sale in King County was sent back to the drawing board in 2023 when a judge ruled that the Department of Natural Resources hadn’t properly considered its climate impacts.
However, it’s often unclear whether court decisions will ultimately stop the forests in question from being cut.
The Department of Natural Resources could approve new sales on the same blocks of land with only minor changes. This is possible partly because, as the agency that both manages timber sales and permits projects on state lands, it effectively acts as its own permitting body.
“DNR claims its timber plans are prepared and reviewed by separate divisions within the agency,” Kropp said. “But the people involved sit and work next to each other every day. You can draw your own conclusion about whether that creates a conflict of interest.”
The Department of Natural Resources is an unusually independent agency with sweeping jurisdiction over state lands. Its top job, commissioner of public lands, is an elected position that doesn’t report directly to any other state office.
The current commissioner, Hilary Franz, has overseen an increase in logging of legacy forests. Franz, a Democrat, will step down in January and is running for Congress in Washington’s 6th District.
One choice for Franz’s replacement is Jaime Herrera Beutler, a Republican former congresswoman supportive of the logging industry, who finished first out of seven candidates in August’s open primary for the lands commissioner seat.
Herrera Beutler will advance to November’s general election along with Democratic King County Commissioner Dave Upthegrove, who secured the second spot in the primary by just 49 votes. He has pledged to protect older forests.
Meanwhile, for remaining legacy forests and the activists who want them saved, the future is uncertain.
“These forests are our heritage and a vital part of our identity,” said Christopher James, a Skokomish tribal member who opposes the Next Contestant timber sale. “DNR should safeguard them so they can flourish into old-growth forests for our grandchildren’s future.”
Columbia Insight, based in Hood River, Ore., is nonprofit news site focused on environmental issues of the Columbia River Basin.
