Campers Chip In to Make 'Tree Project' a Success

By Kathy Dix

Ogichi’s campus buildout began in 2011. Imagine the number of trees that were removed to make space for 32 new structures and the paths connecting them. Imagine years of storm damage. Imagine the natural cycle of trees dying out.

For the past three years, a team of professionals from the Duluth Tree Service has spent four days at Ogichi clearing dead trees, removing safety hazards and “parking up” the views. Climbing, felling, chipping, dumping, spreading. A truckload of wood chips weighs 8,800 pounds. Each time the tree men come, they produce 30,000 pounds of wood chips. The tree men can clear half an acre in a single day.

A camper uses a saw to remove a dead birch. (Liz Hattemer)

“The next time you’re at Ogichi, look around at the trees. As the tree men say, no one notices when they do their job well. It’s just the way it should look: beautiful and pristine.”

Brandon Vaughan, a local professional and the father of two Ogichi campers, has also been helping out over the years. Brandon has rescued several buildings from untimely storm damage, including the cabins Fawn and Owl. And he’s taken the lion’s share of tree trunks that are too large for the chipper and cut them down for firewood.

The other half of what we call the Tree Project is the planting of hundreds of saplings that were ordered by Tom Deupree.

A tree nursery houses white pine, red pine, tamarack, cedar and various fruit trees. Over the past five years, campers and staff members involved in the project have come to learn how large each species will grow and what conditions it likes best—information they use to decide where on campus to plant them.

This preseason, while the ground is still covered in snow, the Duluth Tree Service will return to Ogichi to revitalize the tree-strewn peninsula between Ogichi and the Foundation House so that the photo-journaling hut and Woodcraft Island can be better utilized.

The next time you’re at Ogichi, look around at the trees. As the tree men say, no one notices when they do their job well. It’s just the way it should look: beautiful and pristine.

This article was originally published in the Spring 2020 issue of Songs of the Paddle.