April 30, 1996 & fet Press ee ;

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   
    
 
   
   
   
  
 
   
  
 

renewal in

Valley

e by Shari Ackerman

_ hours displaying dozens of foreign numbers. Finally, we manage to tear ourselves
away from the exciting atmosphere of the Excel Spreadsheet, and head for a block
(an area designated to be planted) called Caramanah 10-2. I find myself clutching
the sides of the truck as we escalate up a steep mountain in the Carmanah. The
gravel road, or I should say “path”, is so narrow that one false move would send you
~ tumbling down to the clearcut below. Karen shows no signs of stress as she
maneouvers her truck easily through the deep water holes dug in the path to prevent
rain from flooding the area (not that it ever rains on the West Coast). As we get
higher, the holes become frighteningly deeper, and every five minutes I find myself
asking; “Are we almost there yet?”

We are greeted with a forlorn, burnt patch of clearcut sticking out among tall,
healthy cedar trees. The air is incredibly clear and refreshing, a powerful drug. |
_indulge in it, drawing in deep breaths, until I feel slightly dizzy. Heavy fog settles

over the landscape below, slowly making its way over to us, concealing everything
in its path. A slight drizzle sprinkles the scattered debris, leftover from the fire.
“There was a fire set up deliberately to burn a certain area of the mountain, but the
fire got out of hand and spread to this part. Now the whole block has to be replanted
from scratch,” Karen explains. “Heartwood has just finished planting here, so now
it’s my turn to check it over.”

Karen begins with using her shovel as a marker and a piece of flagging tape to
check how many trees have been planted within a certain area. She stretches the
tape out to its full length and walks around in a circle. Average tree amount planted -
_ within that distance should be six to seven trees; being too crowded can be damaging
to their growth. We slowly descend as Karen carefully checks the pissing quality
by pulling out the odd hemlock and examining its body, or “plug”.

“T think Pll give them about a 94% rating for this one, “ says Karen, obviously
= pleased with their work. The hours fly by as we scour the side of the mountain. The _
grip of my caulk boots does not prevent from slipping and sliding, and I find
myself grabbin burnt branches and tr oe