No place for myth in future of Minnesota forest industries

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Waves of people arriving in North America over thousands of years found massive forests of 300-foot pine. For obvious reasons, they didn’t take pictures. Instead, they told stories, some of which survive in Indigenous oral history, others as tall tales like the popular but misleading Minnesota myth of the giant logger Paul Bunyan.

Myths thrive deep in the woods. Yet, the truth is just as compelling.

Old Paul and his blue ox Babe obscure the fact that powerful 19th century logging interests chopped down the greatest pine forest on Earth using greedy, irresponsible forestry practices. They destroyed natural habitat and nearly burned down the state in 1918.

Meantime, the hearty, plaid-clad lumberjack of our historical memory was likely an immigrant worker. He was treated like migrant workers today within an industry that prioritized short-term profits over long-term planning.

Minnesota author Willa Hammitt Brown exposes this in her new book “Gentlemen of the Woods: Manhood, Myth, and the American Lumberjack.”

The woods were just another part of America’s industrial apparatus, one that treated workers like replaceable cogs until they were replaced by safer and more efficient machines. Even self-sufficient local logging businesses found themselves dickering with mills over prices just to survive, a dynamic that remains unchanged.

But myths never left the North Woods; in fact, many still believe them.

For instance, there are more trees in Minnesota now than at any point in recorded history. Today’s loggers harvest about the same amount of lumber each year as they did during the white pine glory days of yesteryear, though aspen now dominates the state’s forests. They do so responsibly, replanting more than they cut, and working within local, state and federal laws to preserve forests and prevent fires.

The stumpage is great; it’s the workforce that shrank.

“One guy now does the work of 8-10 guys then,” said Brad Lovdahl, a retired logger from Effie, Minn.

As a child, Brad witnessed the last of the old logging camps in the 1950s. He pointed them out to me on a big map in his workshop. Most were nearby, not far from the homes of his extended family. Lovdahl recalls many colorful characters among the lumberjacks, including one who once arrived back to camp without any clothes or memory of where they went.

But then came the saws and skidders, the diesel machinery that groaned through the cold months but dramatically improved safety and profit margins. Now, the federal Bureau of Labor Statistics lists only about 500 people working as loggers in Minnesota, though thousands more work in related wood and paper industries.

Scott Pittack, a logger from Bovey, Minn., said working in the woods is highly technical now.

“Before, if someone could pull on a saw or swing an ax, you were good to go,” said Pittack, the reigning Logger of the Year for the Minnesota Timber Producers Association. “Now it’s a lot different. To really be a well-rounded person, you need a background in mechanics and some training.”

Logging is still seasonal, with 50- to 60-hour weeks during winter and early spring, said Pittack.

Insurance costs are rising, in part because of the expense of hiring the young drivers who are more willing to work the long hours. At the end of the road is a mill that sets prices based on their markets, not the loggers’ expenses.

Buying equipment is a huge barrier, as any large-scale grain farmer will readily agree. Lovdahl said skidders now cost about $300,000, while feller bunchers cost $700,000.

That’s why family businesses like Pittack’s and Lovdahl’s are still the most successful; they’ve already paid off their first machines and maintain just enough cash flow to keep up with depreciation and replacement costs. From generation to generation, they hold on for dear life.

One last remaining myth must be slain. The small businesses that harvest the trees for wood products are not staffed by historical re-enactors. They are the leading edge of a massive industry that produces products we use every day. Stories about the past no longer apply to where this industry is going.

Most of the timber harvested in Minnesota becomes pulp wood for paper, packaging and building supplies. Fans of “The Office” know that paper is a tough business these days. Recent decades were marked by decline.

Like mining and agriculture, Minnesota logging must supply modern value-added markets to thrive in the future. As consumers, we should not fear logging in federal forests. That can be done responsibly and to the benefit of the taxpayer, if we demand it. Instead, we should encourage investment in new technology and improved markets for American wood products.