We Walked Into a Forest Where 100-Year-Old Trees Are Only a Few Feet Tall

Some hikes give you a beautiful view. Some teach you a little history. Every once in a while, though, you find one that changes almost completely beneath your feet as you walk. That was the Jug Handle Ecological Staircase on California’s Mendocino Coast. Breezie and I started out beneath tall trees, crossed an old wooden bridge over Jug Handle Creek and followed a trail marked with numbered posts. Normally, you can use the interpretive brochure to learn what each marker represents. Unfortunately, there were no brochures left when we arrived, and we had no internet service. So we simply started walking. And maybe that made the experience even better. The bridge beneath our feet showed its age. The handrail had been worn smooth by years of people passing through. Birds called from the trees, ravens announced themselves from somewhere above us, and every once in a while the sound of the Pacific found its way through the forest. As we moved farther along, the trail kept changing. Near the creek, we entered a wetter world where willows grow. Farther inland came different trees, shrubs and manzanita. We passed huge old stumps left behind from the days when this area was heavily logged. Some were blackened by fire, silent reminders that the forest we were walking through had already lived several lives before we ever arrived. That is what makes the Ecological Staircase so fascinating. You aren't simply hiking from Point A to Point B. You're moving across ancient marine terraces, and as the age and condition of the soil change, the forest changes with it. Then we reached marker 30. And it was almost as if somebody flipped a switch. The tall, darker forest began opening up. More sunlight reached us. The vegetation became shorter and scrubbier. Trees that had towered over us earlier were suddenly giving way to an entirely different landscape. We were approaching the Pygmy Forest. A little farther ahead, the wooden boardwalk appeared. That boardwalk carries visitors across an incredibly fragile ecosystem. Beneath it is soil that has been weathering for hundreds of thousands of years. Rain has gradually washed away nutrients, the soil has become extremely acidic, and an iron hardpan beneath the surface makes drainage and root growth difficult. And somehow, life adapted. That may have been the most remarkable part of the entire hike. Some of the little Bolander pines growing here can be around a century old and still stand only a few feet tall. Other plants crowd around them, each finding its own way to survive conditions that would keep many plants from growing at all. Standing there, the word “pygmy” almost seemed misleading. Because nothing about the place felt small. The birds seemed louder. The sunlight felt different. Breezie and I both noticed that the entire place seemed to have a different feeling to it. Whether you call it energy, atmosphere or simply the effect of being somewhere so unusual, we could feel it. Walking that boardwalk together, surrounded by these ancient little survivors, I kept thinking about what the forest was showing us. Not everything successful grows tall. Not everything strong looks powerful. Sometimes life gets poor soil, too much water, not enough nutrients and every reason in the world not to flourish. And somehow it finds another way. We went to Jug Handle expecting a hike. We came away feeling like the forest had told us a story. If you ever find yourself traveling the Mendocino Coast, put the Jug Handle Ecological Staircase and Pygmy Forest on your list. Take your time. Listen to the birds. Pay attention when the landscape begins changing. And when you finally reach those little hundred-year-old trees, remember: There is nothing small about a life that refused to quit growing. You can follow along with Breezie and me, watch our videos, see where the road takes us next and catch up on all of our latest adventures at FiniusTheSkinniest.com.