The base camp sits at the end of a dirt and gravel Forest Service road in an area set to be logged as part of the Clark Creek timber sale. The year-old protest encampment is quiet except for the muffled sound of voices coming from somewhere up in the trees. Its difficult to see the treesitters, but their voices echo throughout the forest. Midair walkways, made of rope no thicker than a childs finger, stretch between the six trees that house protesters in their canopies 160 to 200 feet off the forest floor. From the ground, these homes of scrap plywood, colorful tarps, and yellow Polypro rope look like mangled kites thrown to the trees in a storm. But at treetop level, they begin to look less like kites and more like something a person might live in.
Climbing into the trees to reach the platforms, or treesits, is work. There are no ladders and no pulleys. Using special rock-climbing slipknots, the protesters haul their bodies up a rope that hangs from each platform. The whole process of climbing into the forest canopy takes about 30 minutes, although there is one ewok who can do it in seven.
Another treesitter, Sorrel, a 20-year-old activist interested in botany, has been at the Red Cloud Thunder camp for three months. It took weeks of hauling up supplies and perching precariously on high branches to build the doughnut-shaped treehouse in Guardian, an ancient Douglas fir named by the treesitters. Only a black line of climbing rope links his platform to the ground 175 feet below.
Most mornings, Sorrel wakes up cold and hungry. He burrows deeper into his sleeping bag and thinks about what hell cook for breakfast on his propane stove. His choices might range from oatmeal to bagels to scrambled tofu. Food and supplies have been kept in the trees since freddies (a code word for Forest Service law enforcement) dismantled the base camp in November 1998. Craig says the raid was devastating for the group. They even took the dog food, he says.
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