Under a damp awning of yellowing bigleaf maples, Judith Starbuck is laying waste to a patch of English ivy. A vine at a time, she rips and tugs at the menace creeping through Madrona Woods.
Starbuck and a small band of mud-stained volunteers are reclaiming these woods, saving native trees and shrubs from the stranglehold of fast-growing foreign invaders.
The sloping park, covering more than 9 acres above Lake Washington, is a valuable piece of urban forest -- a refuge where people can hike, learn a thing or two about nature and shed the stress of living in a big city.
Seattle's forests, though, are in trouble.
Thanks to decades of neglect, many of the city's parks and greenbelts are plagued by smothering ivy, Himalayan blackberry, holly, laurel, morning glory and other undesirables. Half of the acreage is seriously invaded, surveys show.
The invasion is unrelenting. Now, as many trees are dropping their leaves and taking a winter rest, the weedy vines keep growing, throttling native vegetation.
"We're losing the urban forests," said Cass Turnbull, founder of PlantAmnesty, a Seattle non-profit that works to protect trees.
In the worst cases -- such as the greenbelt running along the west side of the Duwamish River, Ravenna Park and Kinnear Park on the southwest edge of Queen Anne -- parts of the forest are completely overrun by invasive species.
"We're going to be left with fields of dead trees covered with ivy," warned Pieter Bohen, head land manager for the Cascade Land Conservancy.
If the invasion of foreign weeds isn't stopped, his group predicts, nearly three-quarters of the forested parks will become "ecological dead zones."
Restoring the city's 2,500 acres of wooded parks to healthy conditions would cost $48 million over the next two decades, estimates from the non-profit group show. And that's only to help the park trees.
There are also 120,000 trees lining Seattle's streets, and while the city claims responsibility for up to 40,000 of them, there are only two city arborists working to keep them healthy in a hostile environment.
Private trees, in most cases, receive no protection at all. Landowners with a developed piece of property can level every tree on their lot with no permits, no restrictions. At least one neighborhood bans trees taller than rooftops, resulting in the butchering of trees through pruning, if they are planted at all. Increasingly, modest single-family homes are being razed to make way for mega-houses or apartments, squeezing out vegetation.
The problem with weeds began a century ago, when Seattle was widely clearcut.
Native deciduous trees, mostly maples and red alders, grew back. In healthy Northwest woods, conifers -- Douglas firs, Western red cedars and pines -- would have grown up under their branches to gradually replace them. But those trees didn't take hold, initially because the clearcuts left few seed sources and later because of competition with weeds.
Today, seven out of 10 mature trees in the urban forest are bigleaf maples -- and they are reaching the end of their lifespan. All over the city, experts say, the trees are dying.
The guardians of Seattle's woods originally believed that the natural places could take care of themselves and didn't need weeding, pruning and helpful plantings of saplings. They took little notice as invasive weeds crept in.
Now, there's enough ivy on public land here to cover more than 630 football fields -- and enough blackberries to top more than 900, research shows.
At first glance, the most prolific tree-killers seem pleasant enough, aesthetically speaking -- a splash of green on a bare tree trunk, a burst of pretty flowers on the ground.
But tendrils of ivy, morning glory and clematis quickly spread up into the tree canopies, starving the trees by cloaking their leaves and blocking photosynthesis. Their weight breaks branches and bends tree tops, stunting growth. Blackberry thickets smother ferns and saplings.
Starbuck and other volunteers with Friends of Madrona Woods, who meet monthly to rip into the unwanted vines and shrubs, are part of a small cadre of residents trying to save the urban woods. Many are retirees like herself, a former jewelry maker.
Progress is slow, but clearly visible in patches where newly planted conifers are identifiable by their bright plastic ribbons.
Said Starbuck, with a veteran's resolve: "This was going to be a wasteland if we didn't do something about it."
'Beating these little beasties'
An antenna topped with what looks like a tiny flying saucer protrudes out of Nelson Salisbury's backpack.
Standing among the maples and cedars of Llandover Woods in Broadview, he stares intently at the Global Positioning System device in his hand.
"I was hoping I could get a reading down here," he tells his colleague, Ella Elman. The two are ecologists with the Seattle Urban Nature Project, a non-profit that has spent years inventorying the city's open spaces in an effort to preserve them.
The researchers string measuring tape over sword ferns and through leafless salmonberry bushes to mark a plot measuring one-tenth of an acre. "This is a nice piece of wood over here," Elman says, pointing to a decomposing log.
They're taking stock of the woods, estimating the area covered by ferns and a patchy carpet of geraniumlike fringe cups as well as the amount and size of fallen branches and trees.
Five years ago, the same group analyzed all 8,000 acres of the city's open space, from freeway shoulders to parks. They found that one-fifth of the forested areas alone were completely covered with invasive weeds.
Armed with this groundbreaking research, the city and the Cascade Land Conservancy are devising a way to save the woods.
The ambitious 20-year strategy -- the Green Seattle Partnership -- aims to beat back the invaders and replace them with native vegetation. Last year, Mayor Greg Nickels and the conservancy agreed to the project and last month 28 volunteer leaders were trained.
In a triage-style approach, the plan prioritizes the most important forests to save first, such as those with uncommon native species. Heavily invaded groves of maples are low on the list.
The formal strategy, which is expected to be publicly released by the end of the year, increases the current rate of restoration of 10 new acres a year to 160 by 2010. The total acreage being worked on will be even higher, because earlier projects will need maintenance.
The draft plan calls for $2.5 million in annual funding by 2010, up from the $550,000 spent on restoration and volunteer support this year. In a recent interview, though, Nickels stopped short of committing taxpayer dollars to that goal. He is currently focused on raising donations.
Under Green Seattle, the amount of volunteer labor would also be boosted -- from 60,000 hours a year to 100,000. That means doubling the volunteer force from about 8,000 to 16,000, with each person devoting six hours a year to the woods, on average.
"The reality is we are in a battle, and the invasives have the upper hand," said Mark Mead, senior forester with Seattle Parks and Recreation. We needed strategies "for beating these little beasties. We have the strategy, so now we need the army."
Volunteers fill void
In the wilds of Seward Park, Al Smith is an army of one. Rain or shine -- but not gusting winds -- he's there.
For the past seven years, the retired carpenter has scrambled nearly every day through the park's understory, pulling whatever non-native plant comes his way. He avoids only windy weather, which in the past has snapped tree tops perilously nearby.
Sporting a Foss Maritime cap and ragged jeans and boots, Smith, 58, slips through the woods, his legacy passing by -- mound after mound of dead, moldering weeds. His two backpacks hold plant-identification books and gloves -- lots of gloves, many gratefully gleaned from the side of the road. Thorny shrubs quickly take a toll.
"I've got a lot of lefties," he said, though he doesn't know why.
Smith, who lives nearby, thought he'd be able to weed-whack his way through 10 or so acres and move on to other areas or parks. That hasn't happened.
"It's a lot more work than I expected," he said. "New kids on the block keep showing up."
Once ivy is defeated, blackberry vines can come prickling in. Or the trumpet-shaped flowers of morning glory. Or holly.
Vigilance is crucial. The Parks Department has a crew of seven to keep the urban forest healthy, and non-profits such as EarthCorps and Seattle Conservation Corps also help out, funded by grants from the city and other sources.
The city is heavily dependent on volunteers like Smith and his younger brother David, who is restoring Frink Park in the Central District -- an eco-friendly rivalry.
Joining them are "Friends of" groups that adopt specific parks, with help from corporations and schools. While their efforts have yielded heartening success stories, some caution against such a heavy reliance on free labor.
If a group loses steam, valuable work is lost as weeds recolonize the woods. The volunteers also require training, support and direction.
"A lot of municipalities and volunteer organizations are looking perhaps unwisely to volunteers to backfill what they're unable to provide," said Dan Moeller of Portland Parks and Recreation. " 'Free' sounds good all the time, but you really get what you pay for."
Mead defended the role played by volunteers. "Without them," he said, "we wouldn't get anything done."
One arborist, 20,000 trees
At 9 a.m. on an overcast morning, Tim Griffith is already a couple of hours into his shift as one of the Seattle Department of Transportation's two arborists, responsible for maintaining close to 40,000 street trees.
He wears a battered hard hat and an orange vest striped with reflective tape. Today's assignment: Prune the maples at the foot of the Alaskan Way Viaduct to allow for inspections of the aging thruway. Other days it's clearing trees that fall from private property onto roads, or clearing branches growing close to signs and awnings.
"It's a lot of work, especially for two of us," Griffith said. "We have to pace ourselves. There's no routine maintenance; it's just putting out fires."
These most urban of the urban trees survive extremely inhospitable conditions, wedged into small gaps in the pavement, sometimes choked by metal grates ringing their bases, hit by cars and peed on by dogs.
At the base of the viaduct, Griffith's partner, Jeremy Rowan, scales a red maple using a rope and safety harness. Branches rain down, ready for mulching.
In September, Nickels issued an executive order pledging that for every tree cut down on city property, two will be planted. It was a feel-good proclamation, but it troubled Griffith, given the city's anemic tree-maintenance budget.
"Who are you going to have maintain these trees?" the certified arborist said. "I guess they figure they can take care of themselves."
Nickels vowed to increase the number of arborists working the streets and to make sure there was enough money to take care of the newly planted trees. The City Council is considering how much to spend on the two-for-one tree plan, which would cost between $270,000 and $485,000 a year.
This sort of effort has foundered before.
At the turn of the millennium, then-Mayor Paul Schell launched an effort to plant about 20,000 trees around the city, on both public and private land.
Joyce Moty, a Mount Baker resident and parks volunteer, helped with some of the plantings, including a 10-block stretch along 31st Avenue East in her neighborhood. But she said the city didn't follow up to make sure the trees got enough water and other care. Almost half died.
"Every time I walked down the street, I kind of cringed," she said.
The value of a tree
Trees are credited with controlling stormwater, cleaning the air, providing places for birds to nest, but can they really cure what ails you? Boost retail sales? Calm hyperactive children?
It may all be true, according to national studies.
"If people have a view of nature from a hospital window ... they recover more quickly and require less pain-killing drugs," said Kathy Wolf, a researcher at the University of Washington's College of Forest Resources, citing a Texas study.
People will pay up to 12 percent more for items in businesses located in tree-lined shopping areas and believe merchants are more knowledgeable, Wolf's research shows.
Kids benefit from exposure to nature areas, too, experiencing less severe attention-deficit disorder symptoms, she said.
From an ecological perspective, trees inhale carbon dioxide -- a global warming gas -- and exhale oxygen. Their leaves capture dust, pollen and smoke, cleaning the air.
"You might want to look at all the leaves as very big Swiffers," said Mead of the Parks Department.
When it rains, trees capture some of the water and help it soak into the ground slowly, controlling erosion and stemming the flow of dirty stormwater rushing off driveways and roads into Puget Sound.
If the city were to lose its urban forests, it would cost more than $220 million in new stormwater-treatment facilities and drainage systems, according to an environmental group's analysis.
City officials say the costs would be higher, possibly topping $1 billion.
Three years ago, researchers with the University of California-Davis and the U.S. Forest Service released a study that put a price tag on the benefits of urban trees in the Northwest.
Considering all of the good that trees provide -- such as reduced energy costs because of shade and protection from wind, less pollution and higher property values -- a small residential tree netted a $12 annual benefit, while a large tree was worth $53.
So what's the value of an urban forest?
On a recent visit to Seward Park, Bohen of the Cascade Land Conservancy marveled at the towering firs and cedars.
Even in a Seattle downpour, the evergreen canopy forms an effective umbrella. Only a fine mist penetrates.
"This is what we want to give our grandchildren in Seattle," he said. "And we can do it in our lifetime."Seattle Post-Intelligencer
