It sounded like my kind of day! The thought of visiting some of British Columbia’s finest western hemlocks was more than enough to get my attention, and despite the long drive, Greg had assured me that it would be time well spent. After all, what else would I be doing on a rainy day in the middle of February? The destination was Florencia Bay, within Pacific Rim National Park Reserve, not far from Ucluelet, on Vancouver Island’s west coast.
Better still, I would finally have the opportunity to meet two people I’d spent a fair amount of time chatting with during the past several years. Amanda Lewis is currently writing a book called Tracking Giants, all about seeking out the largest trees of each species in the province of British Columbia. I have long enjoyed her storytelling and eccentric take on the world, the latter being something we most certainly share. Sean O’Rourke, though only in his mid twenties, has already spent a considerable amount of time in pursuit of forest giants. I had already been well impressed by his dedication and good natured enthusiasm. Like Greg and Amanda, he is also a standing member of British Columbia’s Big Tree Committee.
Since Amanda lives on Gabriola Island, the two of us began the day by driving up to Port Alberni together. Sean, who lives in Hope, had already arrived there the previous day. After loading up Greg’s truck with gear and his trusty canine companions Angus and Ben, it was off to Riverbend Cafe for morning refreshments, then off to the west coast!
I’m not sure exactly why, but the search for ancient trees seems to attract people that are all at once focused and intrepid, yet relaxed and quick with a joke. This day proved no exception, and within five minutes we’d dropped all formalities in favour of sharing tales of discovery. Sean described a very old petroglyph he had been examining on the banks of the Fraser River, which had been exposed by the massive floods British Columbia had experienced in November of 2021. Archaeological finds are an important part of his work, and it was expected this one might disappear after the spring freshet, leaving very limited time to examine its intricacies.
The trials and tribulations Amanda had experienced while researching her book were every bit as riveting, not to mention funny. Anyone who has searched for big trees can tell you that things don’t always go according to plan, and let’s just say you can find yourself in some awkward situations! Naturally, some of the trees were ridiculously easy to locate, while others proved quite difficult. Tracking Giants will hopefully hit the shelves in the spring of 2023, and I can’t wait to read it!
We also spent a fair amount of time discussing late tree hunting legend Maywell Wickheim, who had passed at the age of 90 in 2015. Years ago I had corresponded with him in the hope that we could talk trees at his home in Sooke. Unfortunately, his health failed before I ever had that opportunity. Both Sean and another friend, fellow tree enthusiast Colin Spratt, had seen a photograph of a massive Western red cedar which once hung on the wall of Mr Wickheim’s office. Maywell had supposedly visited this giant with a companion decades ago, but he had never revealed its location. Shrouded in mystery as this fabled tree is, we spent ample time speculating on where it might be found, or whether it truly existed!
While I had been to Pacific Rim National Park Reserve many times, I’d never once laid eyes on Florencia Bay. In order to visit this particular forest, Greg had asked the permission of the Ucluelet First Nation, as the area was of strong importance to their history and culture. Fortunately, by the time we had arrived on the coast, rains had dissipated somewhat, leaving only a fine mist drifting down from skies above. Our trek would begin with an easy ten minute stroll on the well used boardwalk of a national parks trail, but that luxury was soon to be forgotten.
“Well, this seems as good a place as any to enter the brush. Everybody ready?” There was something matter of fact about Greg’s announcement that immediately elicited hearty laughter. Of course, that might have had everything to do with the wall of salal we were looking at, which was about three metres tall! I plunged into the thicket with little hesitation, hearing Amanda chime in with “Hey now, stick to the trail, Mick,” as I tried to figure out exactly where it was Greg had disappeared. Bushwhacking in places like these can be an acquired taste, to put it mildly.
We soon located several trees worth recording, including a Sitka spruce, and a cluster of western red cedars which we documented for the Ucluelet First Nation. This was truly a unique forest stand, and as we progressed, it became clear that the western hemlock was the dominant tree. This was surprising to me, as most of the lower elevation hemlock forests I had explored seldom saw them reaching this advanced stage of maturity. On the mainland of British Columbia, pathogens tend to contribute to their demise, and larger specimens are generally found in subalpine environments, above 700 metres in elevation.
As we meandered back and forth through the brush, the sun tried valiantly to break through, but drifting fog held its rays at bay. The magic of this forest enclave, by then, had made a lasting impression on us all.
Greg, having visited before, assured us that the best was yet to come, and no sooner had he spoken, than Sean spied the massive trunk of a tall and ancient hemlock rising high into the forest canopy. It would take us ten minutes and a character building thrash to gain an audience with that tree, and once there, we decided it was an ideal place for lunch.
I’ve always felt one of best things about getting outside is bringing along treats to share with your companions, so Amanda’s box of doughnuts immediately brought a smile to my face. It’s always about the food, isn’t it? In the ensuing conversation and laughter, we worked in more serious topics including the massive cedars of Vancouver Island’s Cheewhat Lake, the correct methods of big tree measurement, and the fact that western hemlocks are not one of the species protected on Crown land by any specific size regulations (thankfully, in national park reserves, all trees are protected, of course).
Once we had finished eating, under the ever watchful eyes of Angus and Ben, we continued with the business of measuring the hemlock. I found myself imagining what it must have been like for the Ucluelet First Nations people to live their lives here centuries ago. Tofino and Ucluelet are now popular tourist destinations, but life here was once much more isolated. It was centred around making a living on the the rugged expanse of Vancouver Island’s western shores, where storms are legend. Today, as we all know, that lifestyle has been forever changed, and traditions have been altered. Indeed, in the depths of the forest we walked, a village of great cultural significance had once stood, now sadly lost to time.
Including all of the chiding about cell reception, potential Instagram posts, bushwhacking through old growth salmonberry thickets (yes, that’s a real thing ), and making story suggestions for Amanda’s upcoming book, another hour passed before we moved on. While we had grown accustomed to the terrain, at the same time, the brush now seemed more forgiving. Greg led us to a significant pair of western hemlocks which had survived many centuries, and along the way, the forest revealed other peculiarities. Once we had reached those towering twins, the sounds of the ocean could be heard, and clouds had all but disappeared. Attention was once again given to gathering data, before we moved on to other revelations.
Our next encounter came in the form of yet another towering western hemlock, this one being the second largest of its kind in the province of British Columbia. Measuring 2.56 metres in diameter, its weatherbeaten limbs have certainly seen better days, but somehow this veteran still survives, a witness to centuries of raging storms. In my experience, it can be hard to know exactly how long such trees will endure. This giant might leave us tomorrow, or continue hanging on long past our days on this planet! Even Greg, who had already made its acquaintance several times, remains no less impressed by its character. I found myself wondering whether there might be rival specimens nearby!
Now it was time to work our way down to Florencia Bay, so we opted to explore a part of the forest Greg had not examined before on our way toward the ocean shores. We were but a few hundred metres from the previous giant, when an unusual sight appeared in a nearby clearing. At first I was not exactly sure what we were looking at, but upon closer inspection, we identified the tree as yet another massive western hemlock! Its gnarled and twisted trunk had fractured late in life, giving rise to four distinct leaders, each reaching skyward in helter skelter fashion. There was some speculation on what we might call this unusual creation. My first suggestion was “Freak Show”, or “The Four Tops”, but eventually we settled on “P.T. Barnum”, since the tree seemed like a circus attraction, of sorts. It will also be nominated for the BC Big Tree Registry, boasting a diameter of 2.48 metres!
Minutes later, we followed the sounds of the sea to Florencia Bay, where surfers were enjoying some late afternoon waves, and blue skies now framed the horizon. With little deliberation, it was deemed unanimously that all coastal bushwhacks must end on the shores of sandy beaches! And why not? We savoured the ocean views, found a crab scuttling on the sands, searched for the tracks of wolves, and wondered aloud what other mysteries the forest still held.
Amanda even found a couple more drift stumps which seemed doorstop worthy. Could she really be fixing to give Wayfair a run for its money? Stay tuned to find out, the possibilities seem promising!
Several flights of worn wooden stairs would lead us back to the parking lot, where we’d soon be planning our next adventure. On the drive back to Port Alberni, we also visited the Canoe Creek Cedar, a most fitting conclusion to an eventful day. Mr. Wickheim, no doubt, would have enjoyed it well!
*******AUTHOR’S NOTE*******
This story is dedicated to Maywell Wickheim, his love of the forest, and unending thirst for knowledge. He educated himself by reading every volume of an entire encyclopedia cover to cover, after all! He was also a self taught mechanic of considerable skills, and a true renaissance man. Take that, World Wide Web! I don’t know why he never divulged the location of his mysterious cedar, but in a sense it’s better that it remains hidden, thus protected from the unscrupulous. If the tree remains a dream, maybe it can inspire a new generation of big tree seekers, and that may be the ultimate reward.
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