teering on a pilot stewardship forestry project in hopes of creating local timber jobs and protecting the environment at the same time. "It's a test of patience," said Mike Schaff, president of the Priest River Chamber of Commerce. "Moving this slow is absolutely ludicrous, but that's the way it works. It's like, are we ever going to get there?"
But the U.S. Forest Service, and its new chief, Dale Bosworth, want such projects to succeed, because the polarization of the past isn't working.
"Right now, it's the only game in town," Thomas said.
Loggers, business owners, Forest Service employees and environmental activists attended the talk. When Thomas was finished, the diverse group gave him a standing ovation.
The response might have been different a few years ago, before the various factions of the community sat down to cooperate on the forest stewardship project at Priest Lake.
"There's still some distrust," said Craig Savidge, a timber consultant. "There's still some people in the chamber who can't talk to people in SCA (Selkirk Conservation Alliance), but now there are a lot of people who can, and I find that to be remarkable."
Steve Wilson, a forester, recently joined the board of the alliance.
"The course they've taken recently agrees with my philosophy," he said. "I'm an environmentalist, but I also agree we need to manage forests, too."
When Thomas came to town this week, he was like the keystone in the bridge the community was already building.
"He's drawn himself into a position in the middle," Savidge said. "He can criticize government, he can criticize industry and he can criticize environmentalists. He has the credibility to do it."
Thomas was chief from 1993-96. He also led the team designated to direct conservation efforts for the spotted owl.
To Thomas, none of the players in the divisive forest management debate is sacred -- particularly the politicians who made his job so difficult.
"Lawmakers are unhelpful," he said. "They'd rather drag the Forest Service chief in on a monthly basis and beat him senseless" instead of revising bad laws.
The required forest plans, for instance, call for a lengthy process and are out of date as soon as they're enacted, he said.
The salvage rider that Congress passed in 1995 to speed up harvest of dead and dying timber was one such bill that came back to haunt Thomas, he said. No one consulted the Forest Service before passing that bill.
But when the political heat grew, the administration let the Forest Service take it, he said.
"They'll write it on my tombstone, `Salvage,"' said Thomas, who defied the intent of the law by consulting with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service on salvage timber sales.
But Thomas also complained about the "enviros," who appeal and appeal, then sue and appeal, to stop timber projects. Then, even if the agency prevails, the work is out of date and they have to start over.
"There's no action that can't be driven into a huge deficit by an appeals process," he said.
As for one of the most recent hotly debated forest issues, the roadless initiative, Thomas called it a nonissue.
"Don't let anybody kid you; nothing's changed. We don't make roadless areas, we make roaded areas," he said. "We've pretty much roaded everything that makes sense."
Thomas predicts that in another 10 years, the forests harvested in the 1950s will be ready to harvest again.
"We might want to consider zoning that land ... as primarily for timber production," he said.
Thomas's remarks about the politics of timber management underscored the need for collaborative efforts such as Priest River's.
Now's the perfect time to launch such efforts, with a forest chief who supports stewardship programs and an administration that preaches local control, he said.
"It's hard to hate somebody you know," he told them. "If you don't hate them, you've got some capability to listen.
"Do we agree that we want a vibrant community? How do we do that and maintain such things as biodiversity and allow the people who come after us to have the same opportunities we have?"
Out of polarized viewpoints locally has emerged a community effort to bid on the 1,750-acre Lakeface Lamb timber sale at Priest Lake and the restoration projects that will go along with it.
Of the 28 stewardship projects nationwide, Priest River's community-based group is the only one that's actually bidding on a timber sale.
Under the stewardship pilot program, revenue raised from timber sales goes directly back into the project area for restoration and other improvements.
The bid could be awarded sometime this fall. If Priest River gets it, the community group will work together to hire subcontractors and start planning how to spend any extra money coming back to their nonprofit organization.
Thomas was so impressed with the passion and commitment of the community to the stewardship project, that he waived his $5,000 fee and came to Priest River for free.
Work like that in Priest River could help make public land management less contentious, Thomas said.
"You outlast gridlock by being damn sick and tired of being damn sick and tired," he said. "People will start to break ranks."
