The Guild Welcomes Michael McNorvell to Pacific Northwest Staff

My path to forestry was a bit circuitous, to say the least. I grew up in the sprawling metro of Los Angeles to parents who weren’t the biggest fans of being outdoors. I knew forests existed and that they were important, but a hike with elevation gain wasn’t in my scope of possibility until high school. A few friends dragged this city slicker kicking and screaming just up the road from Palisades Charter High School, my alma matter that was affected by a winter wildfire just over a year ago. As it turned out, I was pretty good at walking – even uphill! – and that feeling when I reached the top and looked out over the Pacific Ocean and Santa Monica Mountains was so novel, visceral, and emotional; I needed more, and the chase began.

Even then, peak-bagging was just an occasional hobby. Joshua Tree, Sequoia, Yosemite; those were just temporary weekend respites from daily, “real” life. My dream since elementary school had been to make a career out of playing music with talented and passionate people. When I attended the University of Washington for undergrad, it wasn’t for its world-renowned environmental science programs, but for its lesser-known known orchestral majors, intent on making this whole ‘cellist’ thing work. At a certain point I realized I was constantly finding whatever excuse possible to escape into the mountains; I just wasn’t fulfilled. A new chase began, to make a change and be able to fall in love with music again. On a whim I found myself in an old-growth ecology course taught by none other than the Jerry Franklin, a stalwart figure in the story of pacific northwest forests. No surprise then that after the first day of class, seeing clearly the wisdom that old trees had to offer me, I was hooked.

From environmental education with the US Forest Service, to ecological research in the Cascades and Rockies, to small-landowner stewardship in the Columbia Gorge, I’ve been hooked for almost a decade now, and sometimes find it hard to believe that working amongst the trees (when I’m able to get out from behind a computer screen) constitutes my “real” life. Though my focus has shifted throughout my career, one throughline has persisted that I hope to continue channeling in my work at the Guild: there is so much wisdom to be had from the old trees. The world of forest stewardship is complex. It requires patience, persistence, reciprocity, and resilience in the face of constantly changing conditions. If we stay intentional through the turbulence of the present world at large, there is valid cause for hope and optimism. I’m unbelievably excited to connect with members, collaborate with partners, and conserve northwest forests for generations to come.’