Jace Junker, left, poses for a photo with his dad Bruce Junker, of Junker Logging, near Littlefork.
The following member feature was published in the January/February 2015 edition of the Timber Bulletin, a publication of the Minnesota Timber Producers Association, and is reprinted with permission.
It’s mid-morning just south of Littlefork, and Bruce Junker is slashing tamarack with a Barko 295ML, and loading it onto a waiting truck for delivery to Boise’s mill in International Falls, almost 40 miles away.
Today’s production is going well. Temperatures are in the single digits above zero with bright sunshine, making this day typical of Northern Minnesota’s winter of 2014-15: good cold temps with little snow, ideal for logging.
“The logging conditions don’t get any better than they have been this winter,” Junker says. “To start with, you have a freeze up in November before the snow came, and it wasn’t just two nights of it. It was like about three weeks or a month of nice freeze up at night and then freeze all day long before we even got snow. This freeze up was about as good as it comes. When you can scoot across an ash swale—and it was dry this fall, which is a plus too—it’s as good as it gets.”
Plus, the few inches of snow the region has received over the past several weeks is enough to smooth out some of the rough spots of logging roads and landings, but not so much that valuable production time is used plowing.
When you add in the fact that diesel prices are lower than they were a year ago, it’s all adding up to a good year so far for Junker Logging, a business that’s steeped in the tradition of this area’s timber industry.
The business is headquartered on Koochiching County Road 8, just southeast of Littlefork. To locals, the road is known as Cingmars Road, the center of Cingmars Township. Cingmars Hall was established in 1928, where locals have gathered for everything from dances to 4H meetings to voting on election day. The Hall still stands, less than a mile from Junker’s place. Back in the day, families like the Imhofs, Hardwigs, Hauners, Promersbergers, and Junkers all farmed and logged in the area, and they’re all still represented in some fashion — Bruce Junker’s maternal grandfather was Andrew Hauner and Bruce’s uncle was Johnny Promersberger — in the area’s logging community.
Back in the 1950s, both Andrew Hauner and Bruce’s dad Carl had dairy farms and logged a little on the side, getting 25 cord contracts from the M&O Paper Mill in International Falls—Boise today.
“The dairy cattle put food on the table,” Junker says, “but if you wanted to get ahead, you’d better be logging because you weren’t going any place with the dairy cattle.”
By the time Bruce came along and was growing up in the 1960s, like many kids who grew up in the region — particularly boys — he started heading to the woods with his dad.
“As soon as you were able to go to the woods with him rather than stay home with your mother,” Junker recalls, “you’d go out and help a little bit, maybe running the measuring stick, which I did.”
As time went on, Bruce’s dad Carl would not only fill his own 25-cord contract at Boise, but he’d also go to his father-in-law and uncles and get their 25-cord contracts and fill those too. Over time as the business grew and he showed he could handle more production, Boise made Carl one of their company loggers. In 1972 when Bruce graduated from Littlefork-Big Falls High School, he basically took over the family logging operation.
“I remember going to get my contract with my dad,” Junker recalls. “He’d go get his contract and I’d go along with him. I think my first contract was probably 100 cords, it may have been before I even finished high school. And you’d always go up there and you’d always see how much I could get. How much will they give me? And you’d take all they could give you. Now the mills are all in need of wood. You can’t cut enough. I never thought I’d see that.”
It wasn’t the best time to get into the logging business, however. By 1973, a global oil crisis caused not only long lines at the gas pump but also a stock market crash as well as a spike in unemployment. The resulting recession lasted for the next few years, making conditions tough on everyone, including Minnesota’s logging community.
Fortunately for the Junkers, at the same time Bruce was getting into logging full-time, Carl sold the dairy herd and started growing oats, with father and son helping each other out. That decision was pivotal in helping Bruce weather the difficult economic times of the 1970s.
“We had a few years of good weather,” Bruce says, “and a few years of a good crop. And prices were good, so that was good for three or four years.
“Times were tough, but I never thought about doing anything else. I was living at home and I wasn’t married, so I didn’t have that pressure of supporting a family. I was able to wait until the good times came around again.”
The work ethic Junker was blessed with didn’t hurt, either.
“With logging,” he says, “the harder you work the more reward you get. And I love to work, so that’s where the fit is.”
The 1980s were different. For one thing, the economy was in much better shape. Soon, forest products mills in the state were growing, including the Boise mill with its I-1 paper machine that started production in 1990.
These days, Junker Logging remains a small operation, but steady, with one four-person conventional logging crew and four truck drivers. Bruce’s son Jace runs the Tigercat 822C feller buncher, and also services the trucks on the weekend and moves equipment from job site to job site as needed. Nick Franko driving the John Deere 748 G-III skidder, and Clayton Kimball operating the Link-Belt delimber with a ProPac boom. In addition, Bruce handles most of the slashing and loading with help from Ron Horn as needed, and William Reller, Bruce Budris, Peter Bortnik, and Reba Kessler handle the hauling.
Right now most of the crew is working on this 167 acre, 3,350 cord state sale south of Littlefork, featuring 1,800 cords of tamarack, 1,300 cords of spruce, and smaller amounts of ash, balsam, jackpine, and aspen. Half of it was harvested last year, and they’ll finish the job before break-up. The vast majority of the wood is headed for Boise, but a small percentage is being hauled to the Verso Paper mill in Duluth, 150 miles away.
Junker is optimistic about the future. With mills hungry for wood, last year was a good one for the business, and 2015 is shaping up to be the same way. Plus, Bruce has his son Jace working alongside of him. A graduate of Littlefork-Big Falls, he initially went to Minnesota State Community and Technical College in Wadena to be an electrical lineworker, but changed his mind and came back to join the family business, representing the fourth generation of Junkers in the logging business. Jace is even back living on Cingmars Road, right down the way from Bruce’s place, in the house where his father grew up—remodeled and updated, of course.
In fact, the whole family is involved. Bruce’s wife Bonnie runs parts and handles the books, making sure everyone gets paid on time, all while also holding down a part time job at the post office.
“She’s the backbone,” Bruce says of his wife of 28 years. “Thank God I have her.”
The Junkers also farm a little on the side. When his dad sold the dairy cattle he bought ten or so head of beef cattle, and they’ve been increasing the herd gradually ever since. Now they have 90-some head. But logging is his first focus.
“With logging, I like that you can see what you’re getting done,” Junker says. “You’re accomplishing things. But it’s very challenging. The weather is the biggest thing. It can be for you or against you. You have to be able to adapt.”
Junker’s hoping as well that the agencies adapt to the increasing demand for wood in Minnesota.
“There’s no doubt they’ll need to step it up or we’ll be in dire straits,” he says. “I would rather see a young healthy forest than old mature forest blow-down. It’s as simple as that. And the popple is going to blow down. What looks better if it’s managed right? It’s not going to look any more scenic if it’s logged or not logged.”
It’s a sensibility learned from the generations of Junkers, Hauners, Imhofs, and Promersbergers of Cingmars Road. Bruce’s father lost a battle to cancer in 1991 at the age of 77, and his mother passed away in 2004, but the lessons aren’t forgotten. If all goes well, he’ll be able to see the family business continue to thrive as the torch is passed on to the next generation and the continuation of what his grandfather and father passed on to him.
“My dad was awesome because he’d always help me,” he says. “I hope I can do the same for my son.”
