In 2001, the Organized Village of Kake, a sovereign tribal government in Southeast Alaska, supported the U.S. Forest Service’s proposal to protect roadless portions of national forests across the country, including the nearby Tongass National Forest. The Tongass, a vast and mostly roadless temperate rainforest, is “the most beautiful cathedral you will ever walk into,” said Joel Jackson, who served on the tribal council at the time. Kake’s people are the people of the Tongass, he added, and they wanted to end clear-cutting in the forests where their ancestors have lived for at least 10,000 years.
Twenty-five years later, on April 3, the Organized Village of Kake, now led by Jackson, reiterated that support. But this time, the tribe’s leadership did so at a “people’s hearing,” co-hosted by the tribe and the Southeast Alaska Conservation Council.
Jackson would have gladly told federal officials exactly why the largest intact temperate rainforest in the world still needs protection. But the Forest Service has neither held any public meetings nor signaled any intention to do so yet — even as it rushes forward with plans to roll back the Roadless Rule.
Under federal law, agencies like the Forest Service must seek public comment before any major land-use change, often through lengthy comment periods and public meetings. In fact, President Bill Clinton’s administration held more than 600 hearings over two years before the Forest Service approved the original Roadless Rule, which now covers 45 million acres of forest. But the agency’s current attempt to undo its protections has followed what advocates say is a disturbing pattern of shorter public comment periods and a refusal to hold public meetings, disenfranchising the very people who live, work and play on and near the lands in question.
In response, community groups have begun holding meetings like the people’s hearing where Jackson testified. These hearings enable local and national nonprofits, tribes and conservation organizations to inform locals about the Roadless Rule repeal, answer their questions, build community around the issue and record testimony to submit for comment, said Nathan Newcomer, the Southeast Alaska Conservation Council’s federal campaigns manager.
The meetings have ranged from raucous gatherings of up to 150 people in cities like Bend, Oregon — where professional athletes and climate advocates spoke about the importance of roadless areas — to smaller assemblies in rural towns like Libby, Montana, where locals lined up to offer impassioned testimony in support of the rule. Across the country, from Washington and Arizona to New Hampshire, North Carolina and Indiana, local nonprofits like the Southeast Alaska Conservation Council and various Sierra Club chapters are organizing meetings, working in partnership with groups like Protect Our Winters and Great Old Broads for Wilderness. It’s a true grassroots effort, said Alex Craven, the Sierra Club’s forest campaign manager.
Some people attend because they understand the rollback’s ramifications and are determined to offer public testimony. Others are coming to learn more, only to discover that the land that would be reopened to logging and mining includes beloved trails or hunting grounds, said Lia Brewster, a campaign strategist for Washington state’s Sierra Club.
Portland resident Kristin Faulkner, who supported the Roadless Rule in 2001, was shocked to see maps at a local “people’s hearing” showing that many of her favorite places could be clear-cut without the rule: Tamanawas Falls, for example, a 100-foot waterfall surrounded by old-growth trees, which she often visits with her family, as well as Elk Cove on the north side of Mount Hood, where she went backpacking for the first time.
“This is a country-wide issue, and it’s imperative everyone has a voice,” Faulkner said. “How they’re doing this, without public hearings, is very anti-democracy.”
“This is a country-wide issue, and it’s imperative everyone has a voice.”
At a hearing in Arizona, some of the youngest speakers had not yet been born when the rule was first adopted. They couldn’t imagine a future in which roads, mines, logging and extraction could scar Arizona’s 1.1 million acres of roadless areas, said Sandy Bahr, director of the Sierra Club’s Grand Canyon Chapter.
A military veteran at the Tucson meeting spoke about how remote roadless areas helped him deal with his post-service trauma. Others talked about the climate resiliency and wildlife abundance offered by Arizona’s forests.
Meeting organizers are recording all the testimony and will submit each person’s comments individually when the Forest Service releases its draft environmental impact statement and finally opens a public comment period, which it is expected to do next month. Attendees are also encouraged to fill out postcards at the meetings. The demise of roadless protections can feel like a foregone conclusion, given the rushed process, Newcomer said. But, he added, it’s important to “make a clear public record of how strongly opposed Americans are (to) getting rid of the Roadless Rule.”
This story is part of High Country News’ Conservation Beyond Boundaries project, which is supported by the BAND Foundation and the Mighty Arrow Family Foundation.
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