The Douglas fir is an indelible symbol of the Pacific Northwest.
The thick-barked native represents the aesthetics of biologically rich Cascadia and the checkered past of overlogging.
Suzanne Simard of the University of British Columbia has experienced both sides. One of the world’s foremost forest ecologists grew up in a logging family in British Columbia’s interior.
But she is no friend of Big Timber after her groundbreaking research elevated the understanding of preserving healthy old forests. Her best-selling memoir, “Finding the Mother Tree,” highlighted revolutionary research that helped unlock the mysteries of the Douglas fir and other Pacific Northwest trees.
Simard elicited controversy after her 1997 studies showed how individual trees communicate with each other through a fungal network to benefit the ecosystem. The prevailing opinion then, and even among some scientists today, is that species fiercely battle each other for sugar-making rights.
It made sense the Douglas fir was central to Simard’s early research.
In 2018, famous redwood expert Stephen Sillett of Cal Poly Humboldt co-authored a paper in Forest Ecology and Management that highlighted old-growth Douglas fir’s ecological contributions.
Because of their large biomass, they store significant volumes of carbon and help stabilize soil by regulating temperature and hydrologic functions.
With such an outsized role in the ecosystem, I was excited to learn that Simard and colleagues from the UBC forest and conservation sciences are focused on the species’ survival in the face of climate stressors.
Last month, they reported conclusions of a novel study in Global Change Biology exploring how the harvesting and regenerating of forests might affect the growth of Douglas fir seedlings.
The researchers planted 3-year-old seedlings of the Rocky Mountain variety of the tree in its natural range of interior British Columbia to examine the interactive effects of climatic transfer distance and silviculture systems.
Silviculture is a segment of land management that develops and cares for forest trees to address conflicting needs such as logging, wildlife habitat, restoration and recreation.
Simard told me the findings likely correlate to the beloved coastal species that dominate our local forests.
One of the chief discoveries reported is the need to help the species migrate to cooler environments to offset the coming ecological disaster of human-caused climate change.
The warming planet is like a violent Saharan windstorm that trees cannot outrun.
Without assisted migration, conifer forests could face dire consequences. Two years ago, I wondered about their futures while backpacking to a lake basin in the Klamath Mountains of Northern California.
The 640-acre parcel known as the Miracle Mile boasts more plant diversity than almost any temperate forest in the world. It is where Cal Poly Humboldt biologist Erik Jules has searched for similar clues as Simard. He told me some of the 18 conifer species found in the magical square mile lead a tenuous existence because their range has shrunk.
Findings add concerns about ongoing clear-cutting
Simard’s findings add another dimension to the concerns: they suggest that continued clear-cutting of forests will hinder the promotion of new individuals because retaining a tree canopy helps seedlings prosper by buffering them from climatic extremes.
“If we want to have forests and try to mitigate carbon losses to the atmosphere, it is in our best interest to be working with these genotypes,” she said.
Forests seem capable of taking care of themselves without human intervention. But Simard notes that humans have been moving forests around the West Coast for 10,000 years.
The latest study provides hope when megadroughts and destructive wildfires threaten a way of life. It’s difficult to imagine the Pacific Northwest without the Douglas fir, the largest and tallest tree of the pine family and among the tallest species on the planet.
Yes, the pine family; they’re not true firs. Even their common name is questionable, according to the foresters Stephen F. Arno and Carl E. Fielder in “Douglas Fir, The West’s Most Remarkable Tree” (The Mountaineers Books, 2020).
The authors write that the prolific conifer got its name from Scottish botanist David Douglas, who was not the first scientist to discover the flagpole-straight tree and stake a claim for naming rights.
Douglas’ tree is coveted by loggers because of its abundance, hardiness and resilience. When left undisturbed, the species can grow quickly and tall, and live 1,000 years under the right conditions.
Early 20th-century loggers have recounted tales of a 400-foot giant felled in Lynn Valley in North Vancouver and another 400-plus-footer along the Nooksack River near Kendall. But today’s big tree experts say a 393-foot Douglas fir in Skagit County was the tallest ever reliably measured.
That one would tower over today’s tallest known Douglas fir; two titans Sillett and a colleague found in southern Oregon are more than 320 feet high. By comparison, the world’s tallest tree is a 381-foot coast redwood in California.
UBC study offers roadmap for preservation
The UBC study offers a roadmap to preserve a vital resource.
Firstly, migrating genotypes or provinces northward gives the seedlings a chance to take root. Secondly, saving remaining old trees perpetuates the life of a budding generation.
Simard remains buoyed despite cataclysmic forecasts because hundreds of experimental trees in her study plots have matured to adulthood over the decades.
“That shows me the healing capacity of the forest — I will never forget that,” she said. “It will grow and become old-growth again.” Combine the trees’ resilience with human ingenuity “and we have this incredible ability to solve climate change.”
The study gives her a platform to counter grim reports about pending environmental concerns by encouraging individual action.
A recent example of how people make a difference can be found at the Fairy Creek watershed on Vancouver Island. A few years ago, authorities arrested about 1,200 protesters who stopped the imminent cutting of giant trees. Now, Canadian officials have extended a moratorium on logging in Fairy Creek to next year.
“It’s not that one watershed is going to change the world, but the movement changes the world,” Simard said.
Then she adds, “The trees are still there, communicating with each other.”
If that doesn’t offer hope then nothing does.
Elliott Almond's outdoor column appears monthly. Email: elliottalmond4@gmail.com.
