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Funding cuts and firings strain Southern Oregon's national forests

Nine people wearing outdoors clothes and hardhats stand in front of sign that reads "Middle Fork Trailhead." Many of the people have loppers or other tools in their hands.
Juliet Grable
/
JPR
The Siskiyou Mountain Club hosts monthly stewardship days to maintain the region鈥檚 wilderness trails.

Staffing uncertainties and delayed reimbursements threaten to gut the U.S. Forest Service鈥檚 capacity to care for the 1.8 million-acre Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest.

On a wet March day, nine volunteers fanned out along the Middle Fork Recreation Trail. The Applegate River tumbled over boulders below the footpath, nearly drowning out an idling chainsaw.

Amanda Wood lopped off small branches encroaching on the trail, pausing to admire water dripping from the mossy rocks.

鈥淔or me, at least, what鈥檚 special is the softness of the forest, the birds chirping, the loveliness of it all 鈥 the peacefulness of it,鈥 Wood said.

The crew of volunteers from the Siskiyou Mountain Club was there to clear about one mile of trail near the Red Buttes Wilderness just south of Applegate Lake. The club was lucky to have a good turnout, despite the forecast of possible rain and snow.

While the club is doing what it can to maintain trails, the firing of U.S. Service Forest workers and funding delays are already straining the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest, threatening access to trails, campgrounds and facilities ahead of the summer season.

Recreation is big business in Southern Oregon. In 2019, outdoor enthusiasts spent $1.29 billion in the region, supporting nearly 14,000 jobs. The money ripples through communities as visitors purchase meals, lodging and gear.

From skiing and snowmobiling to hunting and fishing, camping, hiking, and backpacking, much of the recreation in Southern Oregon happens in the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest. This 1.8-million-acre forest stretches from the Oregon coast to the High Cascades and dips into northern California. It includes multiple mountain ranges; the Kalmiopsis, Sky Lake and several other wilderness areas; and six wild and scenic rivers.

Firings and reductions in force

A surprisingly small staff maintains the trails and facilities in this vast forest. One of the volunteers on the trail on that March day was Amalie Dieter, a Siskiyou Mountain Club board member and Forest Service employee since 2019.

A woman wearing a red hard hat and black coat stands, holding loppers in one hand. Her other hand is resting on a tall tool.
Juliet Grable
/
JPR
Before her career in the Forest Service, Amalie Dieter started as an intern with the Siskiyou Mountain Club.

As a forestry technician specializing in recreation, Dieter does a little bit of everything: she helps inventory and maintain trails and facilities, hosts saw training workshops and documents hazard trees at campgrounds. She was planning trail projects for the season when she received unwelcome news.

鈥淏ack on Feb. 14 鈥 a lot of people call that the 鈥淰alentine鈥檚 Massacre鈥 鈥 myself along with like about 30 others on this forest were illegally fired,鈥 she said.

The National Federation of Federal Employees says about .

In federal agencies, new hires or employees who move into new positions enter a probationary period, typically for one year. The status is not a reflection of their performance.

Last year, for the first time, Dieter was hired as a 鈥減ermanent seasonal鈥 Forest Service employee; that meant she was guaranteed at least six months of work per year, plus she was finally earning benefits and retirement.

Like many federal employees, Dieter was left in limbo after the mass firing. Federal courts quickly deemed the action illegal, and in March, the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which oversees the Forest Service, ordered all employees rehired with back pay.

The U.S. Forest Service did not respond to a request for comment.

In late March, Dieter learned she would go back on duty on April 7. She鈥檚 relieved to have a job, but she鈥檚 worried about both her job and the future of the agency.

Many rehired employees were immediately placed on administrative leave. Federal agencies have also been directed to develop reduction-in-force plans, stoking fears that more layoffs are on the way.

Dieter said staff cuts would further hamper management of the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest, where resources are already stretched thin.

鈥淧eople don鈥檛 understand what these agencies do and who the employees are,鈥 Dieter said. 鈥淎ll they see is a backlog of maintenance and facilities and campgrounds getting shut down.鈥

Decades of cuts

The federal government merged the Rogue River and Siskiyou National Forests in 2004, consolidating nine ranger districts into five. Before they were combined, the two forests employed about 1000 people between them, Dieter said. 鈥淏y 2007, they had about 100 permanent employees for the same 1.8 million acres.鈥

Steve Johnson, who spent most of his 33-year career working in recreation for the Rogue River National Forest, remembers the shift. After the merger, he covered territories from Gold Beach on the Oregon Coast to Fish Lake in the Cascades and administered permits at Mount Ashland.

In the early 1990s, a five-person crew helped maintain trails. That shrank to three, then two 鈥 and then just him. 鈥淪o it's really been, in my judgment, a spiral,鈥 Johnson said. 鈥淎nd I think the public loses.鈥

A person standing on a dirt trail bends over to cut some brush using loppers in a green forest setting. Further up the trail, other people are doing similar work.
Juliet Grable
/
JPR
Volunteers use hand tools to clear the first mile of the Middle Fork National Recreation Trail.

Each national forest has a set budget and cap on permanent employees. Dieter said neither has increased significantly or even kept pace with inflation for the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest.

鈥淭hose two things are the biggest hindrances for the Forest Service and other public agencies,鈥 she said.

Last fall, even before the election and the firing of probationary employees, the Forest Service froze seasonal hiring, except for firefighting crews. Seasonal staff are boots-on-the-ground employees who do everything from botanical surveys to trail maintenance.

Johnson said that if further cuts go through, visitors to Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest should prepare to find dirty bathrooms, unmaintained signage and trails that haven鈥檛 been cleared of logs. He also worries about annual events, such as mountain bike and trail races, which require special-use permits.

鈥淪ervices are going to be really, really in bad shape from campground maintenance to trail maintenance, of which we've been behind on that for a long time,鈥 Johnson said. 鈥淚f it weren鈥檛 for the Siskiyou Mountain Club things would be even worse.鈥

Filing in the gaps

As Forest Service staffing levels decreased, private concessionaires and nonprofits stepped in to fill some of the gaps.

The Siskiyou Mountain Club maintains 400 miles of trails in southwest Oregon and northern California, many of them within Wilderness Areas in the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest.

A man wears a white hat with noise-reducing ear muffs hanging off his head. He holds loppers in one hand and has stuff sticking out of a backpack. He is standing on a trail in a wooded area.
Juliet Grable
/
JPR
Program Manager Trevor Meyer leads trail crews for Siskiyou Mountain Club.

The group鈥檚 work became necessary after the Forest Service lost logging revenues in the 1990s, said Gabe Howe, the nonprofit鈥檚 executive director. 鈥淲hen we started, we were working on trails that hadn't been touched in oftentimes like 15 years,鈥 he said.

The club revisits each trail every three years. It also hosts stewardship days, multi-night volunteer trips and first-aid and saw-training workshops.

About half of the Club鈥檚 funding comes from memberships, private donors, and sales. The rest comes from federal sources, typically 鈥渃ost share agreements鈥 with the Forest Service.

鈥淵ou do the work, and then you submit for reimbursement,鈥 Howe said. 鈥淎nd then payments come in for those eligible expenses.鈥

Earlier this year, President Donald Trump issued executive orders that froze funding across thousands of federal programs. In February, the Siskiyou Mountain Club stopped receiving reimbursements. Howe said when the club inquired about these payments, it didn鈥檛 get a response, which was unusual.

The club has since had some of its invoices approved, but it is still waiting for the money to be deposited. The delay has disrupted operations. The organization has cut staff hours, and Howe said the club is rethinking its funding model.

鈥淎nd I think what you're going to see in the next few years is a real pivoting toward the community and through funding things through the community,鈥 he said.

Two people stand on a trail working on something.
Juliet Grable
/
JPR
Amanda Wood is one of several volunteers out on their first or second stewardship day with Siskiyou Mountain Club.

Caring for special places

Trevor Meyer, program manager for Siskiyou Mountain Club, jokes that what keeps volunteers coming back is the food. After a long day on the Middle Fork Trail, the hungry crew can look forward to pulled chicken sliders on Hawaiian rolls, salad and a garlic and pepper dip. In truth, volunteers come to connect 鈥 with each other, with wild places and to give back.

The Club has stepped up recruitment of volunteers and donors on social media.

The stakes feel high right now, said Amanda Wood, who is on her second trip with the club. 鈥淕iven the climate鈥攖he political climate,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 feel like it鈥檚 all hands on deck for people that have a heart.鈥

Amalie Dieter has also been posting on social media, sharing updates about federal employees, the Forest Service and layoff rumors. She said there is little information or direction coming from higher-ups, and she worries, at worst, the entire agency could be dismantled.

She knows she鈥檚 risking her job 鈥淚f you鈥檙e going to watch it all disappear, it鈥檚 better to speak up now than not say anything,鈥 she said.

Juliet Grable is a writer based in Southern Oregon and a regular contributor to JPR News. She writes about wild places and wild creatures, rural communities, and the built environment.
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