Oak grove chainsaw massacre

Robin McCollum had just begun talking about a field of fallen trees by the Chico Creek Nature Center when a white SUV slowed to a halt and the driver rolled down the front passenger window.

“Is this where the village is going to go?” the woman asked, referring to the Mechoopda living history exhibit proposed to be sited adjacent to the center.

“No,” replied McCollum, chair of local environmental group Chico Tree Advocates. The tribal installation would go in the old deer pens nearby. This clearing owes its existence to ignoble circumstances.

Monday afternoon (March 11), McCollum re-examined events of a week earlier, when a Cal Fire corrections crew cut down 27 valley oaks that weren’t slated for removal. The thinning project, as planned by city staff, called for cutting into the grove’s catalpas—trees known for their heart-shaped leaves and narrow seed pods—to reduce fire fuels in Lower Bidwell Park. With marks painted on trunks coded unclearly, collateral damage ensued.

“This is a failure, based on two things: lack of knowledge and lack of professional responsibility,” said McCollum, a retired Butte County tree foreman. He specifically faults on-site supervisors for not distinguishing healthy oaks from dispensable catalpas, and for not recognizing a job that rose to the level of review by not only the city’s urban forester but also the Bidwell Park and Playground Commission. McCollum said he since has surveyed the scene with two commissioners, Elaina McReynolds (the chair) and Lise Smith-Peters.

“The integrity of the whole forest is harmed by the improper removal, this assault,” he added. “Nature takes its toll in due course, but when we come in and stupidly [fell healthy trees], this is an injury to the whole system.”

Erik Gustafson, the city’s public works director-operations, didn’t minimize the cause or effects in a phone interview with the CN&R. While “the intent had a lot of merit and was good,” he said—cleaning out an overgrown area, thick with deadwood and brush, to reduce its fuel load—“from my investigation, once they got in there and started removing a lot of those trees, it became a lot larger than anyone anticipated. At that point, the brakes should have been put on.”

The city, in taking responsibility, will utilize part of a grant for planting valley oaks, previously received from Cal Fire, to replace the fallen trees.

“This particular area looks different [without the oaks],” he said. “But, we think after our replanting efforts and mitigation efforts, it’s going to be a place that’s going to be enjoyed by all—and a fire and safety hazard will be dramatically reduced.”

So, how did this happen? Both McCollum and Gustafson cite communication as the prime problem. City staffers who identified trees for trimming and felling did so with marks misinterpreted by the Cal Fire supervisor as well as the two city supervisors on-site intermittently.

Chico pays $200 a day for crews from the Salt Creek Camp, a minimum-security correctional facility in the Redding area. Cal Fire trains and oversees the workers.

“Their heads are down, they’re working hard, and all of a sudden they look up and it’s quite a bit different viewshed,” Gustafson said.

Public Works immediately instituted standardized marks for tree crews, including contractors, whom the city will make sure to inform. A full ring with an identifier at the base indicates a tree for removal, and a green dot signals pruning. Urban Forester Richie Bamlet wasn’t consulted before this project—Gustafson said Bamlet will review “field operation plans and tree removals” moving forward.

The city will chip some of the wood for ground cover there, then sell the rest at auction. As for the trees it will plant, based on Bamlet’s recommendations, McCollum estimates at least 20 years before the grove resembles its previous self.

“We lost a part of the valley oak riparian forest that is Lower Bidwell Park that was given to the city for the promise to take care of it,” he said.