Setting up survival camps

A sleeping bag isn’t always as comfortable and dry as a homeless shelter bunk, but Jim Green got along pretty well living in a tent on the banks of the North Fork of the Coeur d’Alene River.

During Green’s stint along the river a few summers back, he found occasional work as a logger and didn’t have to spend a dime on rent.

While the woods have served as an escape from the hassles of city living, they also offer one of the last places where you can find a free place to sleep.

Homeless camps in national forests typically go unnoticed – the Forest Service doesn’t keep track of them, and it’s often difficult to distinguish between those who pitch a tent for fun or for basic survival. But the topic came to light recently after two children became separated from an extended transient family living along the same stretch of river once home to Green.

The family members had recently lost their homes and had been traversing North Idaho looking for work. Two young children from the group were reported missing July 30, but they were found unharmed three days later after a massive police search. The kids are now in state custody because investigators say they had been neglected.

Forest Service and Shoshone County officials say the North Fork has been a popular camping area for the homeless. It offers easy access to Interstate 90, but it is an atmosphere a world away from the dangers of street life. It’s not illegal for the homeless to camp free of charge at unimproved sites, as long as they do not stay longer than 14 days, said Mike Oliver, a spokesman for the U.S. Forest Service’s northern region office in Missoula.

Green moved his tent frequently to avoid scrutiny by Forest Service law officers. His bathtub was always full, and he could eat his fill of huckleberries. The forest also provided other meals.

“Once I found an elk hit by a logging truck. I ate on that for about a week,” Green said last week while thumbing through a paperback novel at the St. Vincent de Paul shelter in Coeur d’Alene, where he now lives.

Forest officials say Green and others like him are well within their rights. “No matter what your economic background, they certainly have the same right to use the forest as someone out camping with a Humvee,” Oliver said. “There’s no discrimination against anybody that’s following the regulations.”

The Forest Service has had long-standing overnight camping bans in place for certain heavily trafficked sites in Kootenai County, including Hayden and Beauty creeks and the vicinity of Fernan Lake. Much of Shoshone County’s vast tracts of public forest, however, remain free for the sleeping. The county lacks a homeless shelter, leaving few options for those in need of short-term emergency housing, said Cindy Patton, manager of the St. Vincent de Paul in Kellogg.

Patton recently helped find low-income housing for a pregnant Spokane woman who had been camping along the Coeur d’Alene River. The woman took to the forest after losing her job. She couldn’t afford the $40 credit check fee needed to apply for subsidized housing.

There’s no way to tell how many homeless are camping in North Idaho national forests at any given time, Patton said. Over the course of a summer, 15 or 20 homeless campers might stop at the St. Vincent de Paul looking for a gas voucher or money for a motel room to avoid a rainy night in the forest. Some are locals, others come from Seattle or Portland.

When the Silver Valley’s Bunker Hill smelter closed in 1981, unemployed miners set up camp in the forest after being evicted from their homes. This was before the 14-day camping limit was set. Some families even strung up fence to corral pets, goats and chickens, said Joe Peak, owner of the Enaville Resort.

The signs of a homeless camp aren’t usually as telltale today, but Peak said it’s not difficult to spot campers without permanent addresses. Some will have unusually large stacks of firewood, he said. Many of the camps are unkempt and littered. There’s often a truck or a car packed with belongings. After the recent missing children case, many Silver Valley residents are on the lookout for such signs.

“The locals are being more observant now than ever,” Peak said.

The numbers of homeless camping on national forest land will likely rise after Wednesday, when a new ban against camping in Spokane city parks and public land takes effect, according to Bob Peeler, homeless coordinator for the Spokane Neighborhood Action Programs. Spokane’s homeless shelters are full – about 20 families a week are being turned away, Peeler said. Those turned away sometimes sleep in cars or share a floor at a friend’s house. Others take to the forests and hope they won’t be noticed.

“They’re going to go wherever they can’t be found,” Peeler said. “They don’t want to be found. They’re fearful if they’re camping that (Child Protective Services) will come and take their kids.”

Challenge for social services

This fear of being found makes it doubly difficult for the handful of social service agencies in North Idaho that try to help the homeless. Obtaining federal funds or grants to provide housing, food and health care is nearly impossible without hard data on the number of homeless camping in the forest, said Deborah Baptist, director of the Bonner County Homeless Task Force. The task force operates two shelters in Bonner County, which can house up to 14 families. The shelters are typically full.

“Idaho has a very difficult time documenting their homeless problem because they’re not in doorways and street corners,” Baptist said. “It’s an invisible problem. There’s no way to count them.”

Low-income families that are one check away from homelessness are being drawn to North Idaho for the same reasons that lure wealthy Americans, Baptist said. Everybody wants clean air, good scenery and low crime. But when poor people arrive, they usually discover a hidden truth about towns that attract tourism: low wages and high rents.

“Most of the time, people are either tired of the city or they just think they’re going to have a better lifestyle up here,” Baptist said. “They just think it’s better up here. They don’t realize how difficult it is to make a living.”

Camping on national forest land is often the last choice for the homeless, said David, a 40-year-old man in Coeur d’Alene, who did not want his last name used. He said he plans to find an apartment soon.

David once lived in the national forest about 10 miles east of Coeur d’Alene. A bonfire under the stars and falling asleep to the sound of a rushing stream might sound romantic to some, but to David it meant long hitchhikes to find temporary work and days not knowing when he would next eat. He now lives in an old motorhome behind a friend’s apartment house.

“It beats living in a tent, and it’s got a lock on it,” he said.