Daniel Felix, 10, stands atop a gargantuan redwood stump on his tribe’s ancestral land, looking out over a canopy that hides a fractured history. Once, this stretch of California’s North Coast was home to ancient behemoths capable of living more than 2,000 years. Today, only a fraction of those old-growth giants remain, many having been felled by logging companies before the state acquired the land in the 1940s.
This is the Jackson Demonstration State Forest, a 50,000-acre expanse of unique public land. While trees are plentiful, the forest is governed by a legacy of industry. California’s 14 demonstration forests are currently mandated to produce and sell timber to “demonstrate” sustainable logging practices. That industry generates roughly $8.5 million annually, funding the management of these lands by the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, known as Cal Fire.
But a new legislative push seeks to dismantle that mandate. Assembly Bill 2494, introduced by Assemblymember Chris Rogers (D-Santa Rosa), proposes a fundamental shift in how California manages these forests—moving away from timber production and toward a model of tribal co-management, carbon sequestration and wildfire resilience.
The bill marks a historic alignment between Indigenous tribes and the environmental movement in a region long defined by “timber wars.” If passed, it would not only prioritize biodiversity over board-feet but would provide a legal pathway for tribes to help manage the lands from which they were forcibly evicted more than a century ago.
Redefining the ‘Demonstration’ Forest
For decades, the “demonstration” aspect of these forests served as a blueprint for the timber industry. However, critics argue that the financial dependency on logging creates a perverse incentive to harvest larger, older trees to meet budget requirements. Environmentalists and tribal leaders contend that the true “demonstration” should now be about climate mitigation.
Under AB 2494, logging would not be banned entirely, but it would be stripped of its primary mandate. Any future harvests would have to align with new priority values: carbon storage, the protection of biodiversity, and the creation of wildfire-resilient landscapes. To replace the $8.5 million in annual logging revenue, the bill proposes a new funding mechanism—a tax on lumber and engineered wood products.
The shift is viewed by some as a long-overdue act of justice. Polly Girvin, a retired lawyer and former partner of the late tribal activist Priscilla Hunter, noted that such victories are rare in “Indian Country.”
“It’s what we dreamed of,” Girvin said. “And to have it come true? I’m used to movements that sometimes take 30 years in Indian Country to get to the justice you’re seeking.”
A Legacy of Resistance and Unlikely Alliances
The fight for Jackson Demonstration State Forest is the latest chapter in a region legendary for its fierce logging battles. In the 1980s and 1990s, the area was a flashpoint for Earth First! campaigns led by iconic environmentalist Judi Bari. For years, environmentalists and Native American tribes operated in separate spheres, but the threat to the redwoods eventually forged a coalition.
About five years ago, plans to harvest towering redwoods near the coastal town of Caspar galvanized “forest defenders.” They employed tactics reminiscent of the Bari era—camping in the high canopy and using their bodies to block logging equipment. Some were arrested; others became symbols of a growing resistance.
Central to this movement was Priscilla Hunter of the Coyote Valley Band of Pomo Indians. Her daughter, Melinda Hunter, the tribe’s vice chairwoman, recalled how her mother felt a spiritual connection to the trees. “She could hear them crying—it was our ancestors,” Melinda Hunter said. “Then she had to protect [the trees].”
While Cal Fire eventually created a tribal advisory council to incorporate Indigenous perspectives, tribal leaders argue the council lacks actual decision-making power. AB 2494 would move beyond advisory roles, integrating traditional ecological knowledge—such as cultural burning—directly into the forest’s management plan.
The Economic Divide: Timber vs. Tourism
The proposal has created a sharp divide between the region’s blue-collar logging community and those envisioning a “post-timber” economy. Loggers and mill owners argue that sustainable harvesting provides essential jobs in a region where employment has dwindled with the decline of the timber and cannabis industries.
Myles Anderson, owner of a multi-generational logging company in Fort Bragg, views the bill as an existential threat. He argues that California’s strict regulations already make local logging difficult, forcing the state to import wood from Oregon, Washington, and Canada.
“California has the most rules and regulations of anywhere in the world so all they’re doing is exporting the environmental impact to somewhere else, still using the product,” Anderson said. “It’s pretty disgusting, really.”
Conversely, some local officials see a path toward economic diversification. Mendocino County Supervisor Ted Williams suggests that shifting toward recreation—such as mushroom foraging, ultramarathons, and nature tourism—could provide a more stable financial base through lodging taxes.
| Feature | Current Management Model | Proposed Model (AB 2494) |
|---|---|---|
| Primary Mandate | Timber production & sustainable logging | Carbon storage, biodiversity & resilience |
| Funding Source | Logging revenue (~$8.5M/year) | Tax on lumber & engineered wood |
| Tribal Role | Advisory (non-binding) | Co-management & decision-making |
| Ecological Focus | Sustainable yield | Climate mitigation & Indigenous knowledge |
The Road Ahead
The bill currently faces a critical juncture in the state legislature. Having cleared an initial committee in March, it is now held in the Assembly Appropriations Committee’s suspense file. This stage is often where bills stall due to the projected “ongoing state costs,” which legislative analysis suggests could be in the low millions of dollars annually.
The California Forestry Association has signaled that the proposal is a “nonstarter,” while Cal Fire has defended its 80-year history of managing the forest. Kevin Conway, Cal Fire’s staff chief for resource protection and improvement, asserts that under state management, the landscape has seen an increase in habitat and tree size.
For the InterTribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council and the Pomo Indians, the bill represents more than a policy change; it is a restoration of guardianship. Buffie Campbell, the council’s executive director, hopes the next generation will grow up in a world where their role as stewards is the norm, not a hard-won victory.
The next confirmed checkpoint for the legislation is a scheduled hearing in the Assembly Appropriations Committee, where lawmakers will weigh the environmental and cultural benefits against the projected fiscal impact on the state.
Do you believe tribal co-management is the future of public land conservation? Share your thoughts in the comments or share this story on social media to join the conversation.
