Flogging treesitting to the '85 Washington Rendezvous-ers Read a flyer/handout

Friday June 14, 1985 5:30 pm. "Do YOU know where we're going?" asked Mike Roselle with a strained expression, as I walked back from his van to the red rabbit, enroute through a dry east central Washington landscape toward the Washington Earth First! Rendezvous.

"Well, yeah, we're taking 97 north to Wenatchee."

"No, the SITE of the rendezvous," he said and as I shook my head my suspicions were confirmed: Nobody in our two car caravan knew where the rendezvous was to take place! Farce!

Middle of the sagey plains, the Washington part of the Great Basin desert region, and not one of the six people aboard our two cars knew the actual route to the gathering. But Doug Fir (Mike Jakubal) sez he can find it in Wenatchee, so...

Saturday June 15, 1985 1:45 pm. We made for the Rendezvous site last night, hours rolling past like drizzle, and finally Roselle flashed his headlights, we pulled to a stop and conferred; he was royally pissed at the great length of time (10! 12! hours) the journey to the rendezvous was taking. Finally we pulled over and out at a large turnout, partied, slept.

Sunday June 16, 1985 Next morn, a five mile ride over bumpy roads lands us at the site. Alongside a roaring stream, a half hearted camp is set up w/an enormous fire pit. We make cheery contact with the Washington Rendezvousers, make coffee, Roselle energizes the scene, and finally I push bashful Mike Jakubal into arranging a tree climbing demonstration.

It was a big hit! Mike rigged himself up, pounded his way up a practice tree, rappeled down. Then he proceeded to suit up a succession of would-be tree climbers with gear. A succession of hithertofore landbound Earth First!ers traveled up and down the big tree.

Aloft at last myself! Amazing feeling. More like climbing a wooden cliff than clambering about in the smaller branches of the hardwoods of my childhood's rural maryland. I rise up the spikes on etriers, slowly but surely elevate out of cops' reach! Yet tense because I'm relying on ropes and carabiners I don't know; after 20 feet its no easy drop to the ground. But I persevere, rise to the branch, rappel down, I become comfortable with prussik-knotted etriers (stirrups) and a belly carabiner. Tree climbing IS a doable action.

The Challenge: excite this transitory molecule of Earth Firstian humanity into action on the middle Santiam. So far, I've talked talked talked, Doug Fir has explained climbing, Roselle, people have gaped at it, tried it out.

Sunday Morning. A wildish partying night passed; George Draffan's sacred quest for comprehensible plant/human communication dissolved amid whiskey and sound staging by Northwind.

A night of watching: while the music played and all reveled mightily, I crept about, pursuing my aims of a nutsy skit about the Oregon Blockade. George, tall and stoic as a Douglas Fir, I the logger, sheriff and narrator, Mike Roselle the Forest Supervisor and Mitch, reelingly drunk, playing the EF!er that slimbs the tree named George and prevents the logger from choppy-chopping.The tree then quietly urged Mitch to stay up there, while the sheriff breathed threats and the narrator appealed to the audience to urge Mitch to stay up there, a la tinkerbell's saga in Peter Pan.

But Mitch passed out; I tried to get Valerie Wade to be the tree climber in the skit but no soap.

June 17, 1985 Monday morning. Val's dulcet tones stir us from sleep. I am comfortably esconced in the back of the Red Rabbit hatchback, but stagger out, beer-soaked breathedly, make coffee, shit, plan for to climb trees later, gad about with Roselle and Ian, a Greenpeacer.

Plans:

(A) Hijack Mitch to the Event of the Decade: the High Village in the EWOK forest.

(B) Make posters, "Climb! ye humans" and Kipling's "We be of one blood, ye and I" and Leguin's "The word for World is Forest"

(C) Gather momentum, head south, blaze in on Corvallis, set up command post/rally point at the Earth First! House, send out reconners, build platforms, acquire climbing gear and hit the woods climbing.

Monday noon. Valerie and Mike Jakubal and Ron head south to Oregon. A spaced female hitch hiker we'd picked up along the way weirded out Mike and Val, who overruled me and got her left behind at an REI store north of Corvallis that we stopped briefly at for climbing gear.

Thursday June 20 : Fresh million pound shithammer heading our way: Can we organize something im time? In the throes of preparation for our action, coming up fast - "Operation Arbo-Realism.

An arborealist sees trees as mega-necessitous, notes their needless killing, and reaches out to prevent it. Arbo-Realists can live in trees; it is done around the world, quite matter-of-factly. But it seems a lost art here in the Pacific NW.

Saturday June 22, 1985. Pre-Climb Tree Time. What a forest we choose now to inhabit! Our circle is tightened to a steely ring of resolve. Disappointing report on Pyramid Creek action site: the loggers have flattened it already. On the other hand, Squaw Creek's Unit 9 timber sale looks sooo good. A series of press releases will shortly emanate from "Millenium Grove" aka "Unit Six, Squaw Three Timber Sale", Willamette National Forest from

We have found the Elder Trees. The eagle is landing.