Green Harvest Alternative Businesses Growing On Forest Floor

When Joan Kerttu earned her degree in forestry, she didn’t see herself as a manufacturer of Christmas wreaths. But the seasonal, home-based business suits her perfectly.

“I wanted to incorporate my forestry knowledge into what I did. But I’d become a mom, and I wanted to be at home,” she said.

When her son was 3 years old, those needs came together in a solution. Kerttu’s sister sent her a bay wreath for the kitchen. One day, as she was plucking a leaf off for cooking, Kerttu hit on the idea of crafting evergreen wreaths.

The following Christmas, she sent handmade wreaths to friends and family. Each gift included a questionnaire. Did the wreath arrive in good condition? How long did it last? Was it enjoyed?

Response was positive, and Kerttu went into production. Seven years later, she’s turning out about 1,500 wreaths a year.

Kerttu’s business is one of many new operations that use special forest products. Among them are edible mushrooms, dried flowers, wild berries and medicinal herbs.

“Special forest products will never replace timber, but they have much more value than they’re generally given credit for,” said Chris Schnepf, a forester with the University of Idaho’s Cooperative Extension System.

Edible wild mushrooms returned $20 million to harvesters last year in Washington, Idaho and Oregon, according to a study done by Washington State University and the University of Idaho.

That doesn’t count dollars that aren’t reported as income. That could increase the figure by up to 40 percent.

And the same pound of chanterelles for which an Idaho harvester gets $2 or $3 sells in Seattle for $10. A pound of dried morels retails for as much as $150.

Schnepf’s workshops on how to tap into the market for special forest products have grown increasingly popular since he began researching the subject in 1988.

At that time, he was stationed in Orofino.

“I became interested because beargrass pickers were coming to Orofino all the way from Tacoma. If they were driving six hours to harvest what most people considered a weed, there had to be some value there,” he said.

He found that a harvester receives from 30 cents to $1 for a bundle of beargrass. A retail florist pays $5 for the same amount.

Beargrass is just one of the floral greens harvested in the Northwest. A 5-year-old survey of Oregon, Washington and British Columbia showed $50 million per year returned to harvesters for floral greens.

Schnepf wanted to make locals aware of the opportunity.

“If something’s in your back yard, you’re more likely to harvest for sustainability, to care for the land,” he said.

“And a lot of our traditional industries are hurting. People are looking for alternative ways to make money.”

It doesn’t take a lot of money to get into harvesting. A beargrass permit costs $10. Lately, beargrass permits have been selling like hotcakes in the Idaho Panhandle National Forests - primarily on the Fernan Ranger District near Coeur d’Alene.

“In fiscal year 1993, we sold 95 permits. In 1994, we sold 336. This year we’ve already sold 112. It amazes you,” said resource specialist John Carlson.

“It’s not like beargrass hasn’t always been around.”

The new popularity of forest products other than timber has sparked debate over how much harvest these species can withstand.

A newly created permit for the harvest of huckleberry branches already has been temporarily suspended in the Fernan district.

The public feared that floral greens harvesters would leave them no berries to pick.

“Harvesting may actually stimulate some plants,” said Schnepf.

“If somebody says harvesting damages the resource, be suspicious. On the other hand, you should also be suspicious if somebody says harvesting has no impact.”

One benefit of the new commercial value of certain forest products, said Schnepf, is that it’s stimulated research on the forest’s understory. “We know a lot about trees. This new research will help us learn how to manage the forest overall, to manage it as an ecosystem.”

A conscientious forester, Kerttu originally had hoped to use greenery left behind by loggers. Since her husband is in charge of logging operations for Bennett Lumber, access would have been easy. But she didn’t find high-quality boughs after the heavy equipment had been through a site.

So she made a deal with Bennett to cut her own branches. She thins trees to provide spacing, and prunes the lower branches from young white pines to reduce their susceptibility to disease.

Kerttu knows that most special forest harvesters lack her qualifications. But she said she recommends education, not regulation, to address that problem.

“There needs to be a conscience about going out into the woods,” she said.

“The resources are available, but if they’re overrun, they’re not going to be there.”