If you saw a plan that’s already cut down 200,000 trees, with millions more in the crosshairs, you might think it’s an environmental apocalypse in the making. However, this seemingly drastic approach to forest restoration is actually preventing catastrophic wildfires, revitalizing fragile ecosystems, and turning once-homogenous forests into flourishing habitats for plants and wildlife.
It’s time to rethink everything you know about our nation’s forests …
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A few minutes into a casual conversation with Dylan Alsbach, and it’s quickly evident that he’s smarter than the average bear. His use of words like dendrochronology and riparian tipped me off early on that I needed to keep my trusty Merriam-Webster’s nearby.
Indeed Dylan’s vocabulary is impressive, but his work as the Foresty Program Manager of the Larimer Conservation District (LCD) and his passion for the history and importance of that work is nothing if not contagious — and insightful.
“The impetus for conservation districts started in the 1930s after the Dust Bowl,” he shares. “The federal government wanted a better way to find out what was happening with local land owners, especially farmers, and they wanted local people to go out and convene with these folks and figure out what was happening on the ground.”

One key contributor to the Dust Bowl in the early 1900s was poor farming practices, which led to soil erosion, massive loss of crops, widespread respiratory illness and ultimately the departure of thousands of families from what was intended to be the land of milk and honey.
©Dorothea Lange, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons – Original / License
From Dust Bowl Devastation to National Conservation
The Dust Bowl drought in the early 20th century was, in fact, the reason conservation districts were created, but the issues on the land started many years before. It was the Homestead Act of 1862 that provided settlers to the Great Plains with 160 acres of land per family with the agreement they would work the land and presumably, in so doing, improve it. And work the land they did. However, there was little provision for agricultural education, and therefore, little thought was given to how the land was worked. As a result of haphazard farming practices, the topsoil was disrupted, and the native prairie grasses that anchored it were farmed away. When massive winds swept through the land, as they were known to do, they carried with them the soil — now brittle dust. Crops were blanketed in the fine particles, thus destroying them. The dust also caused severe respiratory issues for inhabitants and ultimately displaced thousands of families.
In response to the Dust Bowl drought, the federal government established the Soil Conservation Service in 1935. A part of the Department of Agriculture, the service was created to educate people on better farming practices such as crop rotation and reforestation in order to stabilize the soil. One year later, in 1936, the government adapted its approach, appointing local groups — conservation districts — to be run by farmers and landowners to manage their land responsibly. (Explore the Soil Conservation Service Guide to Field Activities, circa 1941, here.)

This map, featured in the Soil Conservation Guide to Field Activities (1941), shows the various service administrative offices throughout the United States at that time.
©Public Domain
Today, according to the National Association of Conservation Districts, there are 3,000 conservation districts in the United States, 74 of which are in Colorado, each acting as a liaison between private landowners and the State Conservation Board. These districts are the boots on the ground, literally combing through Colorado’s vast and varied landscape in search of opportunities to improve everything from soil health and noxious weed control to riparian and forest restoration, while simultaneously educating landowners about this important work.
Why Fire Can Be Great: A History of Biodiversity
To understand the restorative work done by Dylan and the Larimer Conservation District, we must first understand the problem. Before the lands were colonized, regular fire cycles occurred, the variation of which depended on elevation and type of timber, among other factors. For example, in the Mountain West, the fire cycle was every five to 30 years for ponderosa pine forests, typically found at 5,500-7,500 feet of elevation. The cycles may be longer or shorter depending on the variables. It was that regularity of fire cycles, though, that actually maintained the fuels in the forest, keeping them at a healthy level for all plant and animal species to thrive.
The cause of these cyclical fires could be anything from lightning strikes to the measured use of fire as a tool by the Indigenous people who lived there. Regardless of how they started, because these fires were regularly occurring, it ensured the forest maintained a healthy amount of diversity. “We didn’t have all this buildup of overly dense canopy,” explains Dylan. “Because you had a mosaic of the landscape where the fire would come on a regular basis, it was in a lower intensity way than we see today. It maintained the [forest] fuels enough to where we didn’t have a full canopy anywhere. We had maybe some meadows. You had groups of trees, but you also had openings. And so you had a lot of variability in the forests to where you provided a whole range of habitats, especially for wildlife.” It’s that diversity that makes a forest resilient — openings that slow a fire down, for example, but that also invite various plant and wildlife species to the area.
Along Came Smokey
During World War II, the number of available firefighters was limited as many of them went off to war. That meant that wildfires were more difficult to fight or contain by untrained members of the community. Therefore, a heavy focus was placed on fire prevention — the need to stop fires from happening in the first place. The U.S. Forest Service, the National Association of State Foresters and the War Advertising Council created the Cooperative Forest Fire Prevention Program, which arguably vilified forest fires. The initiative, according to ForestHistory.org, featured a stern but friendly bear as its mascot, Smokey the Bear, and the goal was “to inform the public about how forest fires could undermine the war effort and destroy much-needed lumber.” Putting the onus on average citizens, Smokey’s iconic message was, “Only YOU can prevent forest fires.”

©National Archives at College Park, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons – Original / License
For decades that messaging persisted — that fires were both bad and preventable. This failure to acknowledge the fact that no fires means increased canopy, and thus increased ignitable fuel, has been at the detriment to the land and its inhabitants. “If you frame it in the context of a 30-year fire interval, we’ve lost the opportunity for maybe four or five fires in the last 150 years,” Dylan explains, of the opportunity to maintain healthy forests and a nice balance of biodiversity. “And if you lose that, that means there’s a lot of extra fuel out there. That means the forest starts to homogenize.”
It wasn’t until 2001 that Smokey’s messaging was updated to say, “Only you can prevent wildfires,” a nod to and acknowledgement of the ecological benefits of controlled forest fires for the overall diversity of both flora and fauna.
Cutting to Conserve: Why Fewer Trees Means a Healthier Forest
That brings us to the work of the Larimer Conservation District — and all conservation districts. With decades of messaging to reverse, Dylan says that reaching enough of the landowners and having the time to educate them on the benefits of properly managing the land and protecting it from massive wildfires through tree removal is perhaps the most challenging part of his work. “[Landowners] understand the problem, and a lot of it is oriented towards community protection — wildfire protection. And people can get on board with that,” Dylan shares. “Where we run into a problem is getting on board with the rest of it — a restored forest, wildlife habitat, diversity. People don’t like to make that step. They like to hang out where it’s nice and easy and comfy. If they’re able to cut a few trees, then they feel better about their wildfire risk. And what we’ve seen recently is that’s probably pretty naive. It’s time to be aggressive.”

Field workers mark the property for careful and intentional tree removal.
©Larimer Conservation District
According to Dylan’s estimations, the LCD has completed treatment on 500-600 acres of land over each of the past five years. “For reference,” he says, “if we think about how many trees are on an acre of ground if you have an unhealthy forest, you can get up into the hundreds of trees per acre.” He estimates that cutting that number in half — half of the trees being removed per acre of unhealthy forest — and “you’re quickly into the hundreds of thousands” of trees the LCD has removed over the past five years — approximately 200,000 trees when you do the math. The results, Dylan shares, are happy landowners, healthy land, and the slow return of biodiversity, all of which prove the efficacy of this work.
“When you vary the landscape — have a section of trees and then an open meadow and then perhaps a grove of smaller trees — there will inevitably be a more diverse array of plants, animals and insects that dwell there,” explains Dylan. “And if you have a diverse mix of plants everything builds from that.”

In the top photograph, you see a property before LCD’s work. Below is the same land after the LCD’s tree removal. Spaces have been opened, inviting opportunities for new growth and the return of wildlife as well as a decreased risk of a destructive wildfire.
©Larimer Conservation District
Where to Go from Here: What You Can Do to Help
While there is still plenty of resistance to the work, it’s largely due to not understanding the full scope — the why — of the LCD’s work. But it all boils down to one thing: A healthy forest devoid of overgrown canopy and thus unhealthy amounts of fuel housed within is less likely to perpetuate a catastrophic wildfire. Additionally, it’s more likely to create an environment in which a rich and biodiverse array of plants and animals can thrive.
“When you have a diverse mix of those, all of a sudden your soil is starting to develop a capacity to sequester your carbon. Your soil is developing more ability to hold water, to hold life, and to hold carbon,” Dylan says.
To learn more about the work done by the Larimer Conservation District, visit larimercd.org. To find a conservation district where you live, check out the conservation district directory on the National Association of Conservation Districts website.
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