Tag: Nothofagus

  • Early steps towards ecocultural restoration of the ancient Araucaria araucana (Pehuén) forests in Caviahue, Northern Patagonia, Argentina. 

    Early steps towards ecocultural restoration of the ancient Araucaria araucana (Pehuén) forests in Caviahue, Northern Patagonia, Argentina. 

    By: James Aronson, Daniel R. Pérez, and Adam T. Cross 

    Daniel Pérez is head of the Laboratory for Rehabilitation and Restoration of Arid and semi-arid Ecosystems (LARREA) at the Faculty of Environmental and Health Sciences, National University of Comahue, Argentina. He also leads two ecological restoration projects in arid northern Patagonia, the first being the one described here and also the one described in his 2021 NHER post here. In addition, Daniel was coordinator of the Argentinian national Network for Ecological Restoration (ENREA) and organizer of its 3rd Congress held last November. James Aronson and Adam Cross are both members of the Steering Committee of the Ecological Health Network. James is also an Emeritus Scientist of the Center for Conservation and Sustainable Development, MBG, and Adam is Adjunct Senior Research Fellow at Curtin University, Perth, Western Australia.

    Straddling the Andes and the border between Argentina and Chile, an ancient ‘Lost World’-looking forest persists. It occurs in fragments, dominated by the extraordinary Gondwanan conifer Araucaria araucana, called Pehuén in the Mapuche Mapudungun language and widely known by that name today in southern South America. The name of this giant emergent (up to 80 m tall), and very long-lived (1500 years and more), fire resistant ‘living fossil’ tree, is evidently related to the Pehuenche, an ancient ethnic tribe of migratory hunters in south central Chile and adjacent Argentina, before the 16th century CE when Spanish colonists began to arrive and change the course of everything.

    Forest fragment of Araucaria araucana (Pehuén) right in the town of Caviahue, with an understory of the southern South American bamboo, Chusquea culeou. Credit: Laura Abraham.

    The Pehuenche were so named for their dependence on the seeds of the Pehuén as a food source. Between 1550 and 1850 CE, some of them migrated west and merged with other peoples of northern Patagonia, in a process described by historians as becoming Araucanized. In the 21st century these Peoples still retain rights to some of their ancestral lands in northern Patagonia, but just barely. Despite the name Mapuche, which means “people of the land”, their situation in modern day Argentina is truly precarious.  

    While the Pehuén forest is alive and well and regenerating in some large parks in Chile and Argentina, where livestock are excluded, the dominant species is considered critically endangered by the IUCN, and a poignant example of its vulnerability can be found around Caviahue (Roig et al. 2014).

    Typical degraded Pehuén forest remnant near the shores of Lake Caviahue. Credit: Adam Cross.

    Pehuén, the rather odd English common name of which is Monkey Puzzle Tree, is one of only two highly disjunct Araucariaceae representatives in southern South America. The other 18 extant species of this Gondwanan family all occur in the South Pacific region, in New Caledonia, eastern Australia, Papua New Guinea, and Norfolk Island. 

    In Caviahue, whose name most fittingly means “Sacred Place of Reunions”, there is an ambitious ecocultural restoration, rehabilitation, and transcultural sustainable development and educational program getting underway, centered on Pehuén (Pérez et al. 2020). The first activities began six years ago with tree plantations and restoration-based education. Since then, there have been countless meetings with all social sectors of Caviahue such as the Mapuche community elders, Caviahue-Copahue Provincial Park, the Caviahue Ski center, primary and high school principals, political decision-makers, and leaders of the tourism sector, all in search of a social consensus and support for the restoration project. This vocation to build common ideas through dialogue, respecting visions, expectations, and desires of the whole community, is one of the most notable features of the work program. It is partly inspired by the Mapuche name for the site. But, as yet there have been only very limited discussions between the dominant, Spanish speaking, sedentary Western community and the transhumant, Mapudungun-speaking Mapuche.

    Transhumance – a disappearing way of life

    Transhumance is a form of animal husbandry and pastoralism that is remarkably well-adapted to arid and semi-arid lands. The word derives from the Latin trans (beyond) and humus (land), and thus means ‘beyond the land of origin’. It involves biannual movements of flocks between high summer pastures and winter grazing grounds at lower altitudes, or vice versa. In some cases, the entire tribe or group moves with the herds, while in others, only the herders make the biannual trek. This way of life was once widespread, in drylands on most continents, but is now lost and almost forgotten in most places. In Neuquen Province it still survives among the Mapuche. They camp in their ancestral lands near Caviahue lake (1646 meters above sea level) during the warm months, and then during the cold months they and their mixed herds migrate to Huncal (1204 masl) approximately 100 km east and much drier in summer than Caviahue.

    Typical Mapuche settler in transhumance, herding Neuquén Creole goats, a genotype especially well adapted to the region. Credit: Agustín Orejas.

    Although there is a transhumance law in Neuquén that seeks to protect this ancestral practice, Mapuche farmers are often forced to travel along paved roads to reach their destinations because many fields have become the private property of the colonizers and are blocked in with wire fences.

    The Caviahue site joined the Ecological Health Network in 2022 (see here), and a lot has happened since then. The first and third authors of this blog have been offering support to weave together a holistic, ecocultural approach with a focus on human health for the program. Numerous other colleagues in restoration science, and social sciences, from Argentina, Chile, Mexico and Brazil have started getting involved following a visit to the site led by Daniel Pérez of the 3rd Congress of the Argentinian National Ecological Restoration Network held last November, in Neuquén. 

    Field trip near Caviahue. Credit: Adam Cross. 

    The project was initiated with the goal of studying how to restore the Araucaria forest in Caviahue, one tree at a time. It is daunting because the trees grow very slowly and there is little previous research on similar species in xeric regions providing a template to build upon. 

    It has gradually become clear that the restoration of this ancient, isolated Araucaria forest must be ecocultural, and include ecological rehabilitation and landscape reintegration of the degraded grazing lands of the Mapuche pastoralists who camp with their herds of sheep, goats, cows and some horses at one end of Caviahue lake for 6 months of each year. Additionally, the town of Caviahue needs restorative work, because of the planting of invasive Pinus contorta from Western North America, which is escaping and naturalizing in a heritage landscape where this highly competitive conifer does not belong (see below). 

    Araucaria araucana emerging among a dense formation of invasive Pinus contorta in the town of Caviahue. Credit: Laura Abraham.

    At the same time, Daniel and his colleagues came to understand that a truly great context for ecocultural restoration exists here. Caviahue is an extremely interesting town of ca. 1000 permanent residents. There is a strong sense of community among the westerners, and a desire to keep the quiet, nature-based quality of their lifestyle in the town and its valley, despite the interest of many real estate developers to ‘grow’ the ski station and the town, with all its charming low-key tourism services into something much bigger. They are aware that the isolated, relictual population of Pehuén is of great cultural value, but they don’t necessarily see that something can be done to change the nature of the broadly degraded and fragmented landscape where only a few ancient trees remain with little evidence of regeneration. Such change can only come about through trust-building and cooperation with the Mapuche pastoralists. 

    Xeric Araucaria araucana forest remnant, extremely degraded by intensive livestock farming. Credit: Eliane Ceccon.

    If one visits the land of the Caviahue Ski centre, not far from the ski slopes, a spectacular remnant of primary-type Pehuén forest of a few hectares there reveals what the ancestral forest was like, and provides a reference model, at least for the more mesic sites in the valley, to those who would entertain the concepts and a project of ecological restoration.

    Primary-type forest of Araucaria on the protected lands of the Caviahue Ski Center. Credit: Laura Abraham.

    There, one can see the awe-inspiring, living fossil Pehuén trees towering over a thick understorey with Araucaria seedlings and saplings emerging from the deep humus, leaf litter, and topsoil, rather than bare rock and skeletal sands seen more generally in the area. Among the spectacular Pehuén are also seen stands of Antarctic Beech (Nothofagus antarctica), locally known as Ñire, and in the more humid places, the related Lenga (Nothofagus pumilio); both species belong to another Gondwanan genus often co-occurring with Araucariaceae (Peri et al. 2016Veblen et al. 1996). These areas are in stark contrast to the heavily grazed forest remnants where the Nothofagus persist only as rare, isolated stands, the lower two meters or so of which are stripped bare of foliage (Martínez et al. 2023).

    Ñire (Nothofagus anctarctica) on pedestal caused by massive loss of topsoil over many years due in part to over-browsing by goats and cattle. Credit: Daniel Pérez.

    The impacts of tree-felling for timber, overgrazing, and resulting topsoil loss over most of the valley are clearly profound. 

    The species is listed in IUCN’s Appendix I – Threatened with extinction, trade only in exceptional circumstances. Elsewhere, in Lanin Park in Argentina, and Conguillo Park in Chile relatively large stands occur but here in Caviahue, its future depends on local people, of two highly contrasting cultures.

    The Ecocultural Restoration Program led by LARREA at Caviahue will include both the Mapuche pastoralist, transhumant communities, made up of three groups of approximately 600 people each, and the sedendary community of ca. 800 non-Indigenous, European and Levantine descended people in the growing town at the other end of the lake. But how?  At present, there is little interaction among the communities, with one major exception, namely the population of teenagers in the public high school in the town. Roughly 60% of the teenagers in town are Mapuche, and 40% are Western, or non-Indigenous. In a meeting we attended last November, with Oscar Mansegosa the Elected Intendente (Mayor) of Caviahue, and four people from his staff, we learned that many young people in Caviahue experience mental health-related challenges, no doubt linked to the intense cold weather and meters of snow present on the ground for 5-6 months of the year. 

    Additionally, we learned that approximately 80% of the Mapuche students experience some form of blockage to obtain higher education. To help reverse this problem, a programmed diploma course which is being designed by the LARREA team will comprise periods of in-person learning in classrooms combined with practical learning in the field, plus virtual classes and modules. There is an integrated list of classes to be identified, and teachers to be named. Daniel has already begun inviting several of the people who attended the conference (including James) to contribute modules or units to the training course. Daniel will be pursuing further discussions with the university about this Diploma program and hopes EHN and others are willing to help not only with the training course but also with projects in and around the town. He has had clear signals from the senior administration of his University that they are keen on moving ahead with restorative projects like this.

    Class on dormancy and germination of Araucaria araucana seeds offered by LARREA for teachers and students of the Transhumante School No. 6 of Caviahue. Credit. Daniel Pérez.

    Controlling invasive Lodgepole pines: a way to bring people together

    One thing many young and older people in Caviahue do seem to understand is the problem of invasive Lodgepole pines (Pinus contorta) which is escaping from gardens and nearby tree plantations and competing with the native Pehuén

    And that’s something that will be part and parcel of any ecological restoration proposed for this town, its lake, and its valley. If people from different cultures work together to fight the spreading of the pines, and then go on to roll up their sleeves to do other interventions in the spirit of ecological restoration, then we’re in the realm of reciprocal, ecocultural restoration. Note that this Western North American pine, known in English as Lodgepole Pine, is considered one of the world’s worst weeds (CABI Digital Library). Yet in Caviahue many families, and tourism and forestry companies continue to plant this invasive tree, despite the fact that it is invading surrounding properties and fields, radically modifying and degrading the unique heritage and life-sustaining landscape of the Araucaria araucana forest. This needs to be corrected through environmental education, citizen science and community-based restoration and horticulture.

    Indeed, a pathway to help reverse this problem has begun in Caviahue. In 2023, the educational work began at Escuela Transhumante No. 6. The identification of traits of conifers of the genera AraucariaPinusPicea, and Abies, all present in the town of Caviahue, was addressed with teachers and students. In addition, the incessant spread of Lodgepole pine was discussed and the proposal to cut and remove the unwanted pine trees from town parks was accepted.

    A Pine-cutting field course with Caviahue teenagers. Credit: Daniel Pérez.

    The joint task allowed for dialogue and reflection on the value of Araucaria seeds as food for Mapuche communities, their cultural and ecological value, and the risk of the continued invasion of Lodgepole pine to the native forest and the ecocultural restoration program getting underway.

    A young student from the National University of Comahue cutting an invasive Pinus contorta in Araucaria forest with gusto. Credit: Daniel Pérez.

    Perspectives for Restoration-Based Education and training in ecocultural restoration for local people 

    An educational program is being undertaken with the main high school in town, called CPEM 47. This has already provided results published in an article in Spanish. Among the achievements, various tasks carried out by local secondary school students to plant Araucarias and generate participatory maps stand out.

    The educational experiences carried out with students of the Transhumant school to date were extracurricular, that is, in free time. 

    The next step to be developed in 2024 is the participation of the restoration team of the LARREA in formal education programs throughout the school year. 

    Informal class in the field of a member of LARREA with young Mapuches from Transhumante School No. 6. Credit: Daniel Pérez.

    Health and political issues

    In relation to the above-mentioned, non-trivial health issues among teenagers, a very good bond has been built with the medical staff of the Caviahue Health Center. In the meetings held, addictions and depression among young people emerged as the main topics to be addressed. Medical personnel consider that activities such as plant production, plantations, and sowing can contribute to the mental health of young people and within this framework they hope to design activities that in turn will need to be evaluated for their effectiveness and feasibility in terms of time and resources.

    Finally, at the political level, the election of a new mayor for the next four years has just taken place. There are good prospects for including ecological restoration in public policies given that the newly elected mayor had the courtesy to hold a meeting with his cabinet for three hours with restoration experts who visited the town. Next, some work priorities were established, such as the promotion of restoration tourism (direct seeding of Pehuén) and the creation of a diploma course in restoration for local youth. This course will be managed at the National University of Comahue with support in infrastructure for demonstration sites from the Municipality. The training will enable the teenagers and young adults of Caviahue to be better prepared to enter the workplace and discover new opportunities. Hopefully, it will also have positive effects socially through building relationships among Mapuche and Western youth.

    The Mapuche communities have shown great pleasure in participating in actions such as plantations, sowing and extraction of Pinus, although these actions thus far have always been mobilized from LARREA. It is hoped that in the future restoration activities will be assumed as their own by the two communities, Mapuche, and Westerners.

    May it be so.

  • What’s going on in the Land of the Long White Cloud?

    What’s going on in the Land of the Long White Cloud?

    James and Thibaud Aronson post here the first of two reports from New Zealand, where they spent the first three weeks of January 2017, learning about the remarkable restoration and conservation work going on there.

    New Zealand, or Aotearoa (Land of the Long White Cloud, as the Maori call it), is one of the world’s leaders in terms of conservation and restoration. However, it certainly did not start off that way.

    New Zealand was first settled by Polynesian sailors about 750 years ago, one of the last places on Earth to be colonized by humans. These pristine islands, which had stood in isolation for 80 million years, harbored a wealth of unique lifeforms, from the iconic kiwi (of which few people know there are in fact 5 species), to the weta (cricket relatives in one of several genera endemic to New Zealand, some of which  are among the largest insects in the world), and the tuatara, large, endemic, lizard-like reptiles, the last survivors of an order that thrived 200 million years ago.

    The island did not lack predators: just think of the now-extinct Haast’s eagle (Harpagornis moorei), the largest eagle to have ever lived, and the fierce, flightless moa (nine species in six genera; all extinct), giant relatives of the ostrich, the biggest of which stood fully 3.6 meters (12 feet) tall and weighed 230 kg (510 lb). However, Aotearoa harbored practically no land mammals, the only exceptions being two species of bats. Therefore, many native animals were flightless, absolutely unafraid of humans and their dogs, and thus very easy to hunt.

    Faced with this incredible boon, the Maori did what humans have done on every single island and continent they have ever reached: they took and took without restraint. All 9 species of moa, the most rewarding of prey, were gone within 200 years. Seals, once abundant along all coastlines, vanished from many areas. Forced to change their ways, the Maori shifted to eating more fish and shellfish, and took to cultivation, burning down forests for cultivation, and also started eating the bracken fern that grew back in abundance after fires. However, and very unusually, having caused widespread extinctions, the Maori eventually introduced rāhui, a strict system of preventing all unauthorized persons  to enter an area, or harvest a specific resource. The intention was to allow regeneration, such as certain animal food sources, or plant materials – such as wood from a certain tree species prized for carving,  thus avoiding local depletion of resources or even further extinctions. This system is still in use today among Maori, and can also be declared by different agencies of the NZ government!

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    Billy Boy, a Maori guide in the Waipoua forest, whose connections to New Zealand’s wilderness is an essential part of his identity. Whenever one of his grandchildren was born, the first thing he did was to take them to the forest and begin their introduction to the natural world.

    However, things took a significant turn for the worse 200 years ago, when Europeans reached New Zealand. They rapidly established large-scale logging activities, targeting the various species of native conifers, which can live for millennia and reach enormous sizes. For a few decades, whaling and sealing were vastly profitable as well, until populations crashed. What’s more, the Europeans brought with them cats, black rats, and later possums, stoats, and other carnivorous mammals. All of these species have since gone feral, and become one of the foremost ecological problems the country faces today. Since human settlement, 47 endemic bird species have gone extinct, about half from Maori over-hunting, and the remainder in the last 2 centuries, wiped out by feral predators, as were various species of reptiles, amphibians, and invertebrates. Many more species have no doubt suffered the same fate, disappearing before they were even documented.

    However, in recent decades, New Zealand has made an impressive and inspiring commitment to preventing future degradation and in fact taken many great strides towards rolling-out restoration at a national scale. This merits celebration and emulation. During our 3-week trip, we got to see first-hand some examples of the conservation and restoration work underway.

    One of the most iconic trees of New Zealand is the kauri (Agathis australis). These massive conifers once dominated the forests in much of the warmer, nearly subtropical, northern part of the country. They can live well past a thousand years, grow 50 meters tall, and reach a girth comparable to that of the Californian sequoias. The largest individual known today is called Tane Mahuta, or Lord of the Forest, the name of one of the main gods in Maori cosmology. It is hard to describe how insignificant one feels when standing below these giants.

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    Te Matua Nhgahere (Father of the Forest), the oldest and second-largest remaining kauri in New Zealand. The age of this tree is variously estimated to be between 1200 and more than 3000 years old. Such longevity is exceedingly rare in tropical or subtropical rainforest trees.

    The kauri also happen to yield excellent timber, once particularly valued for ship-building. Their logging was only banned in 1972, and less than 4% of the original kauri forests are left today. Happily, no native forest can be legally logged anywhere in New Zealand today, thanks to an election promise of the Labour government which passed into law in 2002.

    Waipoua forest, on the north-west coast of the North Island, is the largest kauri forest left in New Zealand. Great efforts are being made today to preserve the remaining stands, particularly focusing on halting the spread of kauri dieback disease, a horrific, recently-arrived fungus-born infection that spreads through soils and kills every kauri tree it infects. Part of the campaign to save the tree entails education and consciousness-raising among all visitors to the kauri forests as to the importance of cleaning their shoes and boots both when entering and leaving the area.

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    Skeleton of a kauri killed by the dieback disease in Waipoua forest. Can the disease be stopped?

    Some forest areas have fared better, such as the Nothofagus forests of Fiordland National Park, in the south-west of the South Island, well protected as they are by billions of biting flies, which have successfully prevented any significant human settlement in the area. However, stoats, rats and possums are not so easily deterred, and the whole area is a prime example of empty forest syndrome.

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    Southern Beech forest (Nothofagus spp.) in Mt Aspiring National Park.

    Therefore, enormous amounts of money are being spent on large-scale trapping and poisoning throughout the country, to try and control these non-native pests which wreak havoc both on native fauna and flora. For instance, we visited the private Pupu Rangi Sanctuary, 100 hectares of forest south of Waipoua, in the North Island. Its owner, Octavian Grigoriu, and a diverse team of volunteers work tirelessly in the forests, maintaining traps and poisoned bait around the whole perimeter of the forest, and deep in the bush as well. Octavian hosts paying guests, which helps pay for the expensive traps and poison. As a result, native species, including the North Island brown kiwi, are doing significantly better than in the nearby Waipoua forest, which is much larger, and therefore exponentially harder to protect effectively.

    In sum, all over New Zealand, many initiatives, both top-down and bottom-up, are doing excellent work, which we will discuss in our second blog post.

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    Octavian Grigoriu setting possum bait laced with cyanide in his privately-owned forest reserve.