Around the time of the Han Dynasty and just before the beginning of the Roman Empire, a tree began growing at an elevation of about 7,000 feet in what became known as the southern Sierra Nevada.
It is neither the tallest nor the oldest tree in the world today, but it is the largest when measured by volume, at 52,000 cubic feet.
The ancient sapling is believed to be about 2,200 years old and appears to be holding up well for a 275-foot tall, 2.7 million pound veteran. But a few dozen of its neighbors have sickened and died in recent years under the threat of drought and bark beetle infestations, so on Tuesday the giant sequoia known as the General Sherman tree underwent a checkup.
California is about to be hit by a wave of aging populations, and Steve Lopez is taking advantage of it. His column focuses on the blessings and burdens of old age and how some people are challenging the stigma associated with older adults.
A team of tree doctors from the Ancient Forest Society set up ropes and pulleys so they could scale the tan bark skyscraper and look for signs of trouble. Anthony Ambrose, co-founder and director of the group, explained what the trees are facing:
“Less snow is coming, it is melting earlier, so there is less water available and [these trees] They need a huge amount of water. A tree like General Sherman can use 800 to 1,000 gallons of water in a single day,” Ambrose said.
“Giant sequoias are generally thought to be very resistant to pests and pathogens. …And now…the double whammy of fire and drought is actually making them vulnerable to attack by beetles, when before they could fight them off.”
Visitors watch as scientists climb the General Sherman tree to conduct a welfare check in Sequoia National Park.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
A depressing thought, to be sure, especially considering the role humans have played in the deteriorating health of the planet.
But it's impossible to stand in the center of a magnificent grove of giant trees that are thousands of years old and experience only darkness, especially on a day when morning light breaks through the green canopy near the top of Sequoia National Park. I was reminded of John Steinbeck's description of the northern California redwood cousins, the coast redwoods:
“Redwoods, once seen, leave a mark or create a vision that stays with you forever,” Steinbeck wrote in 'Travels With Charley.' “Silence and amazement emerge from them. … They are ambassadors from another era.”
Larry Holland, 77, his son John, 53, and his wife Joyce, 72, watch scientists work on the General Sherman tree. “It makes you feel how small you really are,” Larry said.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
Indeed, human time is transformed by the enduring wonder of these treasures, and 70 years doesn't seem so old.
“I feel like I'm 21 again,” said Sheree Keohen, 65, of Huntington Beach, who was visiting the park with her husband Mike, 69.
“We could be fighting like cats and dogs, but once you get to the national park, forget it,” Sheree said. “You just forget the bills you have. Whatever it is, you don't think about it once you get to this beautiful landscape.”
“This is what you'll remember when you die, and who knows, it might be tomorrow,” Mike said. “I don't remember the years when the Lakers won the championship, but I do remember going to see the redwoods.”
Wendy Baxter, top left, and plant physiological ecologist Anthony Ambrose, both of the Ancient Forest Society, climb the General Sherman tree.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
Larry Holland, 77, of St. Louis, was visiting the park with his family and had the same feeling about the magic of the spectacle before him. There is an arrogance in our sense of importance and an illusion of control over our own destiny, he said, but we are here and gone in an instant, preceded and outlived by these gods of longevity.
“It makes you feel how small you really are,” Holland said.
Wendy Baxter, canopy ecologist and co-founder of the Ancient Forest Society, was about to board General Sherman for a health check, but she took a moment to reflect on the majesty of her subjects.
“I'm inspired by their resilience; the mere fact that this organism has been growing here in the same place for over 2,000 years is incredibly humbling,” Baxter said. “And I think they give an example to all of us of how, if you live your life within your means, if you live well and have the resources you need, you can be healthy and live to a ripe old age. “
A Sequoia Park ranger shows off a bark beetle in Sequoia National Park.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
Trees have been pretty good stewards of the planet, providing free shelter to spotted owls, Pacific fishers, flying squirrels, and a host of other tenants, while nourishing the soil beneath them and generating new life.
We, on the other hand, haven't been the best stewards, especially in the last few hundred years, when changes in an increasingly energy-dependent world have made big trees less resilient, Baxter said.
“We've recorded 40 large sequoia deaths” in just a few years, said Christy Brigham, chief of science and resource management for Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. The “relationship of trees to the landscape” is changing, she said, as a small beetle conspires with climate change to topple the giant ambassadors.
“We have never before seen beetles capable of killing an entire large, mature redwood tree,” Brigham said. “That is our concern here today.”
Botanist Cameron B. Williams looks at the crown of the General Sherman tree. Three other scientists on the team also climbed the tree to look for bark beetle activity and check the overall health of the redwood.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
That, along with the flood-drought cycle that has become the norm, with wildfires destroying millions of trees and ozone levels polluting even the national parks we've long escaped to for fresh air. . TO recent report by the National Parks Conservation Association found that 97% of the country's national parks suffer from ozone pollution, with Sequoia and Kings Canyon topping the list.
The popularity of the forest is part of the problem. Visitors from all over the world come here to stand before trees that count their age in centuries, rooted in the soil of a rotating sphere flying through space. Visitors speak different languages and bring different life experiences and political views to this altar of natural wonder, where they look up and remain silent, united in reverence. It's inspiring to see that, despite all our differences, what we hold dear can be a unifying force.
“When I was younger, I found solace…and resilience in nature. You see… the renewal that occurs, and it has been a very reassuring part of my life,” said Clay Jordan, who knew from the beginning what he wanted to do when he grew up and now serves, at 62, as superintendent from Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks.
A visitor communicates with a giant sequoia tree in Sequoia National Park.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
For Jordan, redwoods remain symbols of stability, serenity and perseverance. But he told me that he no longer takes them for granted and he knows that we can all play a role in their preservation, for his grandchildren and for ours.
“Maybe I even appreciate these trees more,” Jordan said, “because I now recognize a vulnerability… that hasn't existed for the last few thousand years.”
Scientists from the Ancient Forest Society, along with other members of the Giant Sequoia Land Coalitionare on the case, using drones, satellite imagery and tree-climbing surveys to better understand vulnerability and devise strategies to save the trees.
When the tree doctors completed General Sherman's physical examination, they went down to the ground to share the results with park officials, forest service representatives, and other interested parties, including the Save the Redwoods League.
“I have good news to give you,” Ambrose said.
“Maybe I even appreciate these trees more… because I now recognize a vulnerability… that hasn't existed for the last few thousand years,” said Clay Jordan, 62, superintendent of Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
Despite evidence of “attempted entry holes” in branches throughout the tree's canopy, the beetles “do not appear to have been very successful,” as they have been in foraging in nearby redwoods.
General Sherman, Ambrose said, defends himself bravely, defying the ravages of time. The tree “seems very vigorous, the foliage is very healthy and looks very good.”
Two thousand two hundred years and counting.
