Josh Matz

Meet our Guests: Kerry Holcomb

Kerry Holcomb

Biologist, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

Mojave Desert, CA

11/12/21

 

     Deep in the Mojave Desert, giant boulders are playfully stacked atop one another while Joshua trees tilt and dance in the mid-day sun. The scene fits better into a Dr. Seuss novel than a modern-day conservation story.

      Amidst the fantasia, Kerry Holcomb, a biologist for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS), proclaims, “you can’t do conservation if you ignore the human element.”

      After moving from Appalachia to the desert, Kerry turned his focus to the endangered desert tortoise. At one time, desert tortoises were the dominant herbivores on the landscape, sequestering carbon and changing the mosaic of plant communities. But now, Kerry explains, “we have functionally extinct populations [of desert tortoises] in parts of the Mojave.” And he believes ravens are to blame.

     Thanks to the advent of the air conditioner, non-native people started settling in the desert, and raven populations began to multiply rapidly. Ravens are generalists, meaning they can adapt to a wide range of ecological conditions. Ravens adapted well to their new food source at landfills and as their populations soared, they added the desert tortoise to their menu as well.

     Both ravens and tortoises are holy to the Mojave and Chemehuevi people, but Kerry explains, “the Tribes see the dichotomy of the tortoise being higher than the ravens.”

     In a desperate attempt to save the desert tortoise, the USFWS has resorted to oiling, which causes suffocation of raven eggs to diminish their population. But, with new houses popping up in the desert every day, Kerry recognizes that the desert tortoise has a human problem, not a raven problem.

 

By Josh Matz

Meet our Educators: Sarah Gilman

Sarah Gilman

Freelance writer, editor, illustrator

Methow Valley, WA

9/6/21- 9/8/21

Gliding up a small hill covered with crunchy bluebunch wheatgrass, Sarah Gilman tosses a juniper branch to her rambunctious terrier, Taiga, and looks out over the expansive North Cascades in the Methow Valley. Twenty students walk with her, and as she crests the peak, she motions for them to find a seat before giving a journal prompt: “Write about something that gives you hope.”

Sarah, a member of the first Semester in the West in 2002, is a writer whose illuminating work about the intersection of people, landscape, and other species has been featured in The Atlantic, High Country News, National Geographic News, Smithsonian.com, The Guardian, Patagonia’s The Cleanest Line, and The Last Word on Nothing.

Sarah joined Semester in the West 2021 to host a writing workshop, helping Westies digest their experiences with biologists, fire experts, ranchers, land managers, and tribes in rural Washington and Oregon, into short, creative essays known as Epiphanies. To some, it may seem odd that Sarah encouraged Westies to walk the landscape, write poetry, and journal about topics unrelated to their papers’ focus. But with a soft smile, she candidly explained, “The best ideas don’t come from staring at a computer screen.”

Every afternoon for three days, Sarah met with Westies one-on-one to brainstorm, workshop, and edit their pieces. She encouraged concise and focused writing by challenging students to make sure every part of the essay actively grounded the main idea in evidence and tangible experience.

During the last evening of the writing workshop, Westies read their creations to their peers under the night sky. The next morning, as Sarah drove away with Taiga barking out the truck window, Westies smiled knowing her presence will undoubtedly guide their future as writers, critical thinkers, and community members. 

By Josh Matz

Photo Credit: Nathaniel Wilder

Meet our Guests: David Schmidt and Spenser Shadle

David Schmidt and Spenser Shadle

CEO, CFO Heartwood Biomass

Wallowa, OR

8/24/21

David Schmidt and Spenser Shadle are two affable entrepreneurs whose timber mill, Heartwood Biomass, is redefining the timber industry by building a web of symbiotic relationships between environmental, community, and economic interests.

In Wallowa County, fire suppression over the past century has led to unnaturally dense forests susceptible to catastrophic wildfires. Thinning of small diameter trees is widely accepted as a necessary fire mitigation practice. Unfortunately, standard timber mills are designed to process old-growth trees and thus are mechanically and financially unable to take on forest restoration projects.

By processing small diameter trees from fire suppression projects into poles, firewood, and woodchips, Heartwood Biomass creates a niche market for sustainable forest management. While showing Semester in the West around the mill, David charismatically proclaimed, “I see humans as part of the landscape.” This sentiment guides David and Spenser’s philosophy of creating economic opportunity to incentivize healthy landscapes. They hope the mill will help move the community away from an extraction-based economy and toward one that promotes the stewardship of both natural resources and local jobs.

By Josh Matz