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News

Collective Efforts

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Reforesting Hawai’i

Story by Amy Morrison

Acacia Koa 

A species of flowering tree in the pea family, Fabaceae. It is native to the Hawaiian Islands. The Hawaiian word “koa” means brave, bold, fearless, or warrior.


Getting dirt under your nails while on vacation is always a good sign that you’ve climbed a mountain, built a sandcastle, or scurried over a fallen log. During my family’s last trip to the big island of Hawai’i, we got dirty nails by planting koa trees in a large native forest restoration project. Little did I know, that bit of dirt would have a bigger story to tell.

Our story started in a rental car. That familiar moment when you realize how much you rely on your cell phone, when there’s no coverage and no directions. The road just keeps going and you’re not so certain you should follow it. But we do. Straight past the no trespassing sign, through a grove of eucalyptus trees, and into a small gated community with colorful pheasants running under old cattle fencing. We spot the house with the small sign we’ve been looking for: Hawaiian Legacy Forest. 

After a warm welcome, we pick out our three koa tree saplings and venture into the forest with our guide on a bumpy quad ride. This isn’t the Hawai’i forest you might be imagining. There is no tropical jungle. We’re up-country, at a higher elevation with windblown grassy fields and cows that have a million-dollar ocean view. The open landscape breaks on occasion with groves of young bushy koa trees, a mixed understory of ‘iliahi (sandalwood), and ‘õhi‘a trees. The contrast between grazed land and reforested land is easy for any visitor to see.

We stop on a bluff under a towering old-growth koa tree, the first we’ve ever seen. Its long, oak-like limbs have grown so big they fall back down to the ground before sprouting up again. In this grassy landscape, the koa tree is majestic and inspires my interest in the story behind this tree and this place.

On our ride, we have a chance to learn about Hawaiian Legacy Forest and its efforts to restore and preserve the valuable koa tree forest. The forest is valuable on a number of levels. Monetarily, it’s a sought-after hardwood for high-end furniture, crafts, and musical instruments. Ecologically, its habitat is scarce, impacted by logging and cattle grazing. 

Koa trees only grow on the Hawaiian Islands and support a network of other native Hawaiian plants and animals. Culturally, the trunk of mature koa trees have been used by Hawaiians in carving outrigger canoes, and smaller style surfboards. Koa is essential to the culture’s longstanding connection to the environment.

As visiting volunteers, we got our chance to be a part of the conservation effort. We cleared three small circles in the grass with shovels, then dug a small slot in the ground just the right size for this new tree’s tangle of roots. With our hands, we gently covered the roots with dirt and pushed down, making sure the ground was firm and supportive. Our guide brought a gourd full of water, and we took a moment to pour the tree’s first water in its new home over our hands and into the dirt, offering our good intentions to this good deed.

Yet this good deed is clearly reliant on a much larger collective effort. Through partnerships with organizations and businesses, Hawaiian Legacy has been able to plant and restore acres of koa forest. One business that contributes to this effort is Arbor Collective, a well-established snow, skateboard, and clothing company based in California.

Arbor’s story starts with their mission to source sustainable materials for their products and their sense of gratitude for Hawaiian culture. Longtime masters of the use of koa wood, Hawaiians took koa boards to the water, and inspired the world of boardsports that so many of us now know and love.

Thankful for this cultural genius, and intent to preserve its source, Arbor and its customers have been actively restoring Hawaiian Island hardwood forests for over 20 years. Not all of them have been getting dirt under their nails, but with every purchase of an Arbor board, a portion of that sale goes to planting and protecting this one-of-a-kind forest ecosystem.

Wanting to know more, I had a chance to speak with one of Arbor’s founders, Bob Carlson, who stressed the importance of not just planting trees and then feeling good about it. It’s also the quality of care that it takes to protect these trees and turn them into a healthy forest ecosystem. Having supported a variety of forest conservation efforts in Hawai’i, Arbor is proud to be part of the long-term vision and restoration success of Hawaiian Legacy Forest—and leaving a lasting legacy on this uniquely Hawaiian landscape.

For another perspective, I reached out to Arbor’s sponsored skateboarder, Kj Nakanelua. Kj is based in Hawai’i and has bombed the hill down from the reforestation project. 

“I’m an aspiring arborist, a novice woodworker, and just flat-out passionate about trees. So it’s easy to see why I’m behind this movement. Trees are my life’s work: studying them, working with them on a daily basis, and of course riding them downhill, in skateparks, and wherever I can.”

Whether your story starts with planting trees on a family vacation, buying a new skateboard, or running a conscious company, together our collective efforts can preserve the ecosystems that our lifestyles depend on. 


Learn more about Hawaiian Legacy Reforestation Initiative

legacytrees.org

Together we can rule the galaxy

Stay Wild

The annual Pow Wow mural fest just happened in Honolulu and our favorite fresh paint came from Wooden Wave. It's a reminder to empathize with the bad guys. Bad guys think they're doing good, so be kind when you tell them they're intentions to rule the galaxy are fucked up.

Our friends at Olukai sponsored the mural fest and hooked us up with these rad shots. Mahalo!

Show Your Support!

Stay Wild

GINEW X L A N D X JUNGMAVEN for STANDING ROCK

“The atmosphere at Sacred Stone Camp was peaceful, prayerful, and vibrant. Elders from across Indian Country - one from Obashing, Red Lake Nation - shared insights, stories, and prayers with the many gathered around the arbor. It made us proud to see our tribal flags flying in support of Standing Rock, the Water Protectors, and the young women with the vision to start what has grown into an awakening movement. Water Protectors, we stand with you. -Ginew owners Erik Brodt and Amanda Bruegl 

Native owned clothing co. Ginew of Portland, Oregon has teamed up with L A N D of Austin, TX and Jungmaven. The collaboration resulted in a new shirt design to raise funds for Water Protectors at Standing Rock. 100% of proceeds will be donated to the legal fund providing assistance to water protectors. Many Water Protectors are facing legal action in North Dakota for their peaceful and prayerful resistance to the Dakota Access Pipeline.

More info about the water protector fundraiser here >>>

Bolivian Salt

Stay Wild

Bikepacking Across Salt Flats

by Abe Ramirez

We were cycling across Bolivia on a bicycle heading straight to the Atacama Desert in Chile.

 After our summit up Huayna Potosí, we set off to ride through the Bolivian Salt flats: about 10,000 square kilometers of flat and dense salt near the driest region in the world. Passing through the large mining town of Oruro, Christian Wuflestad, a close friend from home who decided to sell his car and join me for a few months, and I both knew this would be our final contact with civilization for the next few days. We were heading toward isolation and the thought of being far away from any cars, roads, or people excited us. 

We met two American bicycle travelers who decided to drop their route and join us through a rugged backcountry road toward the Salt Flats. We rode 50-80 km at a time, on average, and about four to five hours without seeing a single person. But when we did cross through small towns and villages, we were reminded of the kindness people had in these lesser-traveled places. We entered to what seemed to be the largest town we would pass through, San Martin. About five square blocks of mud brick houses, a town square, an old beaten up church, and one small tienda to bring the whole place together. Christian and I paused beside what seemed to be a mud brick daycare with a few kids no older than 10 sitting on the curb eating candy. I stripped my hat and shades off my face as I wiped the sweat off my brow and looked at those kids. They looked back at me in awe. To them I might as well have been a spaceman heading to the moon with my steel frame, 29-inch tire rocket ship. The kids progressively made their way toward us and before we knew it that small group of kids turned into about 25 crowding us, touching our bicycles, panniers, and asking us questions about our route, where we came from, and where we were going. We exchanged smiles and laughter and eventually continued down the dirt road to the Salt Flats. 

The pavement ended and the dirt roads were often blocked with dunes. The headwind made us feel like we were stuck in quicksand and the windy nights pierced right through every bit of clothing we wore. We had finally made it to the Salt Flats after a week of riding and we were excited to learn that the salt was so dense it felt like pavement again. We were an hour in when all of the sudden the clouds above us turned to grey and it began to hail. And to make things worse, Christian’s back rack snapped off his bicycle. The hail continued to worsen and I thought of the only possible solution to get us out of this mess: duct tape and zip ties. We proceeded to stick his rack together to avoid it hitting his cassette as I bungeed both his back panniers to the back of my bicycle. Already holding about 70 kilos of weight, I added another 30 and we set off to our shelter for the night, a cactus island in the middle of the Flats. 

Upon waking the following morning, we opened our tents to find two alpacas and a guanaco headed straight toward us. A guanaco is a type of camel native to South America. It stands between one meter at the shoulder and weighs 90 to 140 kg. We assumed that they would not walk any closer, but these animals were not afraid of us. They continued to get closer and I snapped a quick photo hoping the guanaco was not a llama and would not spit on my face. The animals hung around our campsite for a few minutes, bold and unafraid. We packed our things together and headed 130 km toward the closest town with a bicycle shop to repair Christian’s bike.

I have been on this bicycle adventure from Nicaragua heading straight to the continental end of South America for the last year. We have tested the elements and pushed our bodys’ limits to make it to where we are today. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that most things in life aren’t worth their value unless you put in the work to get it. I enjoy the moments I get to share adventure with old and new friends alike. I am here with an open mind and heart to learn and experience something new.