Northwoods Logging Industry Faces Uncertain Future as Mills Close

The sound of chainsaws and skidders has echoed through Northwoods forests for generations. But that familiar rhythm is changing as paper mills across Wisconsin shutter operations, leaving local loggers scrambling to find markets for their timber.

It’s a quiet crisis unfolding in real time. Fewer mills mean fewer buyers, and for the small logging outfits that have sustained families in places like Rhinelander, Tomahawk, and Eagle River, the math is getting harder to work out.

The latest blow came when Ahlstrom announced plans to close its pulp mill and two paper machines at the Mosinee facility. That decision will cost 200 mill workers their jobs — and ripple through the Northwoods logging community in ways most folks outside the industry don’t see.

When Your Buyer Disappears, So Does Your Business Model

James Wilson knows this reality firsthand. The master logger and owner of Wilson Forestry in Athens has run his operation for over 12 years, supplying mills throughout central and northern Wisconsin.

When Mosinee closed, Wilson lost a major customer. “Several of our products that we cut we only supply to that mill,” he explained. “Now going forward we’re gonna have to find a different avenue to move that product if possible.”

The alternative? Trucking logs over 100 miles to the nearest mill willing to take them — if they can even secure a contract. That extra hauling distance eats into already thin profit margins, turning marginal jobs into money-losers.

Wilson’s situation isn’t unique. Across the state, loggers are competing for contracts at the handful of mills still operating. “It crunches a whole group of guys into these few remaining mills and we’re getting contracts cut and slashed to keep everybody alive,” he said.

A Pattern Two Decades in the Making

The closures aren’t new — they’re accelerating. In the last 20 years, around 15 paper mills have ceased operations in Wisconsin.

Mills in Park Falls, Wausau, Neenah, and Wisconsin Rapids have all closed or significantly scaled back in the past decade. Each closure removes a piece of the infrastructure that made Northwoods logging economically viable.

The decline stems from several forces converging at once:

• U.S. demand for print paper has dropped 70% since 2000 as digital media replaced newspapers and magazines
• Energy and labor costs have climbed 15-20% in recent years, squeezing mill profitability
• International competition from countries like China and Brazil undercuts domestic producers on price
• Automation upgrades require massive capital investments many aging mills can’t afford

Henry Schienebeck, Executive Director of Great Lakes Timber Professionals, sees the bigger picture. His nonprofit supports sustainable forestry practices across the region, and he’s watching a critical ecosystem break down.

“A lot of people recreate and hunt, and if you have healthy forests, the only way to do that is to have a healthy forest industry to absorb the wood.”

It’s a point worth understanding. Forests need active management — selective harvesting, thinning, and removal of diseased or invasive species. Without loggers and mills to process that material, overgrown forests become fire hazards and less hospitable to wildlife.

The Northwoods Feels It First and Hardest

Logging isn’t just an industry here — it’s woven into the economic fabric of counties like Oneida, Lincoln, Vilas, and Forest. The sector accounts for 5-10% of jobs in these areas and generates over $200 million in annual economic activity.

When a logger scales back or shuts down, the effects spread fast. Trucking companies lose routes. Equipment dealers see fewer sales. Local diners and gas stations notice the drop in weekday traffic.

School districts feel it too. Timber revenue helps fund rural schools, and population decline in timber-dependent towns like Tomahawk threatens already-stretched budgets.

For the loggers themselves, the options are limited. Some crews sit idle during what should be prime winter harvest season when frozen ground makes forest access easier. Others take on non-logging work — land clearing, excavation, anything to keep equipment payments current.

Stumpage prices — what landowners receive for standing timber — have dropped 10-15% in northern Wisconsin as supply outpaces demand. That means less incentive for private landowners to harvest, which further reduces the timber flowing to market.

What Comes Next for Northwoods Timber

The immediate future looks challenging. No new mills are opening to replace the ones that closed, and the remaining facilities are focused on specialty products like food packaging materials rather than traditional pulp and paper.

Some loggers are exploring Canadian markets or longer hauls to Michigan mills, but the extra trucking costs make those routes barely profitable. Others are banking on packaging demand — the one paper sector still growing as e-commerce creates steady need for cardboard and protective materials.

The Wisconsin DNR limits harvests to 70% of annual forest growth to ensure sustainability, which is good forestry practice. But when mills can’t absorb available timber, that unharvested wood becomes a management problem — denser forests, increased disease risk, and reduced wildlife habitat quality.

Climate factors complicate things further. Warmer winters mean shorter periods of frozen ground, reducing the window when loggers can safely operate heavy equipment in sensitive forest areas without causing soil damage.

Yet there’s cautious optimism among some in the industry. Sustainable forestry certification programs are opening doors to specialty markets. Carbon credit programs might eventually create new revenue streams for managed forests. And Wisconsin’s vast timberlands — over 16 million acres — aren’t going anywhere.

For now, though, Northwoods loggers are holding on and adapting. They’re cutting different species, exploring new markets, and hoping the next mill closure isn’t the one that finally tips their operation from viable to finished.

It’s the kind of quiet resilience you see a lot of up here — folks who know the woods, understand the work, and aren’t ready to walk away just yet. But they could use a break, ya know. Maybe a mill that stays open. Maybe a market that holds steady. Just something to build on for another season.