I lived in southern Oregon from 2011-2015 and the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park was an indescribably scenic hour-and-a-half drive from my home.
Many Saturday mornings during those years, I woke at dawn and filled two backpacks with snacks and essentials — one for my dog, Mickey, one for me. Packed and car loaded, the two of us headed to the Redwoods. On the way, we stopped for breaks in small rustic towns, then held our breath around the mountains’ hairpin curves. The nearer the park, the more excited Mickey became. If I’d let him out of the car to run to the park, he would have likely arrived first.
When we did arrive (together), we couldn’t get out of the car fast enough and to the trails. Early on, I discovered a remote spot where Mickey could run, leash free. Many of those mornings, we had that entire area of the park to ourselves.
The magnificence of those trees— and the vegetation and wildlife they protected and nurtured — lifted my heart and soul. Their silent strength and eons-long resilience took my breath away. Every single visit. Mickey’s joy was equally boundless. A Greyhound-Labrador born to run, he did just that.
When I moved to Oregon, I was aware all Redwoods have endured and thrived through devastating climate events, disease and more. I’d never seen what that looked like. In 2014, I did.
Forest fires took center stage that year. From my home, those trees I’d come to love burned from reckless, furious flames that seemed to simultaneously torch the moon and stars.
In the past decade, forest fires have burned countless Redwood and Sequoia trees to ash and have left many scarred.
Many scientists and others have thought these trees were lost for good.
The trees are telling a different story. A hopeful story.
In 2020, a massive fire incinerated much of California’s 18,000-acre Big Basin Redwoods State Park. As with many recent international fire events, unprecedented in scope, the damage appeared permanent. However, scientists researching Big Basin have discovered just how resilient these trees can be.
The Big Basin Redwoods are drawing on energy and resources hidden deep in their trunks to nurture and sprout 1000-year-old buds.
