I just discovered earlier this month the devastation of the famous Pioneer Cabin Tree, or Tunnel Tree, a sequoia in the North Grove of Calaveras Big Trees State Park in the Sierra Nevada mountain range of central California. My husband and I were visiting my brother and his family for the first time in several years and visited the park on October 6. The last time I was there was in 2015 with my mother, when we both walked under the tunnel of the now-fallen icon.
I thought I had pictures of it still standing, certainly, but I am unable to find them as of this post. The photos below of its erect status are borrowed as indicated. I took the other pictures.
There is a handful of other iconic sequoias in California and elsewhere, but this one was pretty famous. In the 1920s, cars used to drive under it after lightning strikes hollowed out the base, which was then squared off. About a year ago, heavy rains followed by a storm washed out the base, and the tree’s descent downed a nearby cedar tree.
These trees are incredibly tall and impossibly old, and they grow only in certain areas, including the west slope of the Sierra Nevada and in a portion of Yosemite National Park.
Unidentifiable from a distance, the pile of wood attracted us by the signs before it. It wasn’t until I read them that I realized what I was looking at. Aided by the shock, I was so sad to learn of this special tree’s falling, I almost teared up at the sight of it, especially since my husband had not seen it in person while it was still intact.
While all things end, and the tree’s condition made its position more precarious, it is no less poignant to see it flattened. As with a recognizable mountain, the traveler expects such a tree to be standing as it first existed, long after the visitor has sunk through the earth. It marks the land in a unique way, suggests a whiff of permanence in the world, enlarges our experience with its largeness, its resilience, and connects our lives in shared familiarity.
A New Yorker and World War I soldier, poet and journalist Joyce Kilmer likely never met the Pioneer Cabin Tree. The simple celebration of his famous if sentimental poem “Trees” effectively thanks God for making them. If the poem described any particular tree, there could hardly be a worthier candidate than the Pioneer Cabin Tree at Calaveras Big Trees State Park. Sentiment, if genuine, has its place where the tree once stood.
Farewell, old timer.
To learn more about the Pioneer Cabin Tree, or Tunnel Tree, at Calaveras, and other sequoias, the California parks department posted a brief, informative official release at the time of its falling.