Coniferous Forests of the Sierra Nevada. I.
CONIFEROUS FORESTS OF THE SIERRA NEVADA. VIEW IN THE SlliKKA l-OREST. The coniferous forests of the Sierra Nevada are the noblest and most beautiful on earth. So short a time, however, has elapsed since they were first discovered, and so ftw comprehensive explorations have been made, that they are a...
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Scholarly Commons
1881
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| Summary: | CONIFEROUS FORESTS OF THE SIERRA NEVADA. VIEW IN THE SlliKKA l-OREST. The coniferous forests of the Sierra Nevada are the noblest and most beautiful on earth. So short a time, however, has elapsed since they were first discovered, and so ftw comprehensive explorations have been made, that they are as yet but little known. Thousands of appreciative travelers have beheld them in the distance, stretching darkly along the range, the snow-clad summits towering imposingly above them, the great central plain of California outspread beneath; and many have passed through the lower and middle zones on their way to Yosemite .Valley, obtaining'fine glimpses of the yellow and sugar pines and silver-firs along the edges of roads and trails; but few, indeed, have gone far enough, and remained long enough, to gain anything like a fair conception of the real grandeur and significance of these glorious lore--! manifested in the harmonies of then d bution and varying aspects through'"'! seasons, as they stand arrayed in winter garb rejoicing in storms, p'"1 forth their fresh leaves in the spring steaming with resiny fragrance, or ivjw heavy-laden with ripe cones in the rich gold of autumn. For knowledge til kind one must dwell with the trees and g with them, without any reference to linn the mechanical sense. The distribution of the general Ion zones is readily perceived. These c\i' in regular order, from one extremity ,,! range to the other, a distance of nemo hundred miles; and however dense somber they may appear in general \ ' neither on the rocky heights nor duwi Him the leafiest hollows will you find anything to remind you-of the dank, malarial selvas of the Amazon and Orinoco, with their boundless contiguity of shade, nor of the monotonous uniformity of the Deodar for- I ests of the Himalaya. The giant pines, |j and firs, and sequoias hold their arms wide I;, open to the sunlight, rising above one i another oh the mountain benches, marshaled Bin most imposing array, each species keeping fits own appointed place, and giving forth I the utmost expression of tree grandeur and ll.beauty with inexhaustible variety and har- Ismony. The inviting openness of the Sierra woods Hs one of their most distinguishing characteristics. Alb the species stand more or less apart in groves or small, irregular roups, enabling one to find a way nearly |everywhere, along sunny colonnades and (through openings that have a smooth, park- jike surface, strewn with brown needles and burs. Now you cross a wild garden, now meadow, now. a ferny, willowy stream; |ind ever and anon you emerge from all the proves and flowers upon some granite pavement or high, bare ridge, commanding glorious views above the waving sea of ever- jeens far and near. p;; One would experience but little difficulty riding on horseback through the successive belts, all the way up to the storm-beaten "ringes of the alps. The deep, precipitous afions, however, that come down from the xis of the range, at intervals of eight tr ten miles, cut the belts more or less completely into sections, and prevent the nounted traveler from tracing them length- se. 1; This simple arrangement in zones and ctions brings the forest, as a whole, within |lne comprehension of every observer. The pifferent species are ever found occupying goe same relative positions to one another, M|;,controlled by their various capabilities, ffifl, climate, etc.; and so appreciable are |pe relations, one need never be at a loss |determining, within a few hundred feet, elevation above sea-level by the trees ?ne; for, notwithstanding some of the .fecies range upward for several thousand |t| and all pass one another more or less, (.even those possessing the greatest ver- W range are available in this connection, smuch as they take on new forms corre- Shding with the variations in altitude, grossing the level treeless plains of the "lamento and San Joaquin from the west, Reaching the Sierra foot-hills, you enter the lower fringe of the forest, composed of small oaks and pines, planted so far apart that not one-twentieth of the surface of the i ground is in shade at clear noon-day. After advancing fifteen or twenty miles, and making an ascent of from two to three thousand feet, you reach the lower margin of the main pine-belt, composed of the gigantic sugar-pine, yellow-pine, Douglas spruce, incense-cedar, and sequoia. Next you come to the magnificent silver-fir belt, and lastly to the upper pine belt, which sweeps up the rocky acclivities of the alps in a dwarfed, wavering fringe to a height of from ten to twelve thousand feet. It appears, therefore, that the trees forming the upper and lower margins of the general forest are somewhat alike, dwarfed and scattered by snow and frost, drought and sun-fire, while colossal proportions are attained only in the middle regions, where both soil and climate are most favorable. This general order of distribution, with reference to climate dependent on elevation, is perceived at once, but there are other harmonies, as far-reaching in this connection, that become manifest only after patient observation and study. Perhaps the most interesting of these is the arrangement of the forests in long, curving bands, braided together into lace-like patterns, and outspread in charming variety from one end of the range to the other. The key to this singularly beautiful harmony is the ancient glaciers; where they flowed the trees followed, tracing their wavering courses along canons, over ridges, j over high rolling plateaus. The cedars of ' Lebanon, says Hooker, are growing upon j one of the moraines of an ancient glacier. j All the forests of the Sierra are growing upon moraines. But moraines vanish like the glaciers that make them. Every storm that falls upon them wastes them, cutting gaps, disintegrating bowlders, and carrying away their decaying material into new formations, until at length they are no ' longer recognizable by any save students, ! who trace their transitional forms down from the fresh moraines still in process of formation, through those that are more and more I ancient, and more and more obscured by j vegetation and all kinds of post-glacial weathering. These studies invariably show that the soils on which the forests are growing were not produced by the slow erosion of the atmosphere, but by the direct mechanical action of glaciers, which crushed and ground them from the solid flank of the range, and, INDIANS GATHERING NUTS OK THE DIGGER-PINE. It appears, therefore, that the Sierra forests in general indicate the extent and positions of the ancient moraines quite as clearly as they do lines of climate. For forests, properly speaking, cannot exist without soil; and, since the moraines have been deposited upon the solid rock, and only upon elected places, leaving a considerable portion of the old glacial surface bare, we find luxuriant forests of pine and fir abruptly terminated by scored and polished pavements on which not even a moss is growing, though soil alone is required to fit them for the growth of trees two hundred feet in height. \ Having thus outlined the forest as a Vrtlole, 1 will now endeavor to sketch the ,8Pecies of which it is composed, excepting -the sequoia, which will be presented in a .Separate chapter. Vol. XXII.—. NUT-PINE. DIGGER-PINE. (Pinus Sabiniana.) The first coniferous tree met by the traveler in ascending the range from the west is the nut-pine, remarkable for its loose, airy, tropical appearance, suggesting a region of palms rather than cool, resiny pine-woods. No one would take it at first sight to be a pine or conifer of any kind, it is"so loose in habit, and widely branched, and its foliage is so thin and gray. Full- grown specimens are from forty to fifty feet in height, and from two to three in diameter. At a height of fifteen or twenty feet from the ground, the trunk usually divides into three or four main branches, about equal in size, which, after bearing away OttlHI in their slow recession at the close of the ice- period, left them outspread in beds available for tree-growth. For, notwithstanding the many august implements employed by I Nature as modifiers and reformers of soils, the glacier thus far has been the only great producer. But however great the quantity thus produced, had the ice-sheet that once covered all the range been melted simulta neously from the foot-hills u, .summits, the Hanks would |, been left almost bare of mora matter, and these noble liir would as yet have had no d no matter what the climate may be. NUT-PINE (PINUS SABINIANAJ. from one another, shoot straight up and form separate summits; while the crooked subordinate branches aspire, or radiate, or droop in loose ornamental sprays. The slender, grayish-green needles are from eight to twelve inches long, loosely tas- seled, and inclined to droop in handsome curves, contrasting with the stiff, dark-colored trunk and branches in a very striking manner. No other tree of my acquaintance, so substantial in body, is in its foliage so thin and so pervious to the light. The sunbeams sift through even the leafiest trees with scarce any interruption, and tin- weary, heated traveler finds but little protection in their shade. It grows only on the torrid foot-hills. seeming to delight in the most ardent sun heat, like a palm; springing up here and there singly, or in scattered groups of five or six, among scrubby white-oaks and thickets of ceanothus and manzanita; its extreme upper limit being about four thou sand feet above the sea, its lower abotu from five hundred to eight hundred feel. The generous crop of sweet, nutrition?, nuts which it yields, makes it a great favor ite with Indians and with bears. The cone are truly magnificent, measuring from fivct eight inches in lengdi, and not much less in thickness, rich chocolate-brown in color, and protected by strong, down-curving hooks which terminate the scales. Nevei theless, the little Douglas squirrel can opci them. Indians gathering the ripe nuts malo striking picture. The men climb the in, like bears and beat off the cones wnl. sticks, or recklessly cut off the more fruit ful branches with hatchets, while the squaws gather them in heaps, and roast them until the scales open sufficiently to allow ih hard-shelled seeds to be beaten out. Then in the cool evenings, men, women, ami i'-1 dren, with their capacity for dirt gi'caih ft'ER MARGIN OF THE MAIN I'l NI- SMOWINi; OPEN CHARACTER OF' WOODS. increased by the soft resin with which they are all bedraggled, form circles around their camp-fires on the bank of some stream and lie in easy independence, cracking nuts, and laughing and chatting, as heedless of the future as bears and squirrels. THE GROVE FORM. THE ISOLATED FORM (PINUS TUBERCULATA) Units tuberculata. This curious little pine is found at an elevation of from fifteen hundred to three thousand feet, growing in close, willowy groves. It is exceedingly slender and graceful in habit, although trees that chance to stand alone outside the groves sweep forth long, curved branches, producing a striking contrast to the ordinary grove form. The foliage is of the same peculiar gray-green color as that of the nut-pine, and is worn about as loosely,. so that the body of the tree is scarce at all obscured by it. At the age of seven or eight years it begins to bear cones, not on branches, but on the main axis, and, as they never fall off, the trunk is soon very picturesquely dotted with them. The branches also become fruitful after they attain sufficient size. The average size of the older trees is about thirty or forty feet in height, and twelve or fourteen inches in diameter. The cones are about four inches long, exceedingly hard, and covered with a sort of silicious varnish and gum, rendering them impervious to moisture, evidently with a view to the careful preservation of the seeds. No other conifer in the range is so closely restricted to special localities. It is usually found apart, standing deep in chaparral on sunny hill and canon sides where there is but little depth of soil, and, where found at all, it is quite plentiful; but the ordinary traveler, following carriage- roads and trails, may ascend the range many times without meeting it. While exploring the lower portion of the Merced Canon I found a lonely miner, seeking his fortune in a quartz vein, on a wild mountain-side planted with this singular tree. He told me that he called it the hickory-pine, because of the whiteness and toughness of the wood. It is so little known, however, that it can hardly be said to have a common name. Most mountaineers refer to it as " that queer little pine-tree covered all over with burs." In my studies of this species I find a very interesting and significant group of facts, whose relations will be seen almost as soon as stated. 1 St. All the trees in the groves I examined, however unequal in size, are of the same age. 2d. Those groves are all planted on dry hill-sides covered with chaparral, and therefore liable to be swept by fire. 3d. There are no seedlings or saplings in or about the living groves, but there is always a fine, hopeful crop springing up on the ground once occupied by any grove that has been destroyed by the burning of the chaparral. - 4th. The cones, all of which are persistent through life, never discharge their seeds until the tree or branch to which they belong dies. A full discussion of the bearing of these facts upon one another would perhaps be out of place here, but I would at least call SUGAR-PINE 220 FEET HIGH. attention to the admirable adaptation of the tree to the fire-swept regions where alone it is found. After a grove has been destroyed, the ground is at once sown lavishly with all the seeds ripened during its whole life, and which seem to have been carefully held in store with reference to such a calamity. Then a young grove immediately springs up out of the ashes—beauty for ashes. SUGAR-PINE. f Pi//us Lambcrtiana.) Tins is the noblest pine ever yet discovered in the forests of the world, surpassing \ \'.v V all others, not merely in size but also, in kingly beauty and majesty. It towers sublimely from every ridge and canon of the range, at an elevation of from three to seven thousand feet above the sea, attaining most perfect development at a height of about five thousand feet. Full-grown specimens are commonly about two hundred and twenty feet high,and from sixtoeight feet in diameter near the ground, though some grand old patriarch is occasionally met that has enjoyed five or six centuries of storms, and attained a thickness of ten or even twelve feet, living on—undecayed, sweet, and fresh in every fiber. The trunk is a smooth, round, delicately tapered shaft, mostly without limbs, and colored rich purplish brown, usually enlivened with tufts of yellow lichen. At the top of this magnificent bole, long, curving branches sweep gracefully outward and downward, sometimes forming a palm-like crown, bin far more nobly impressive than any palm crown I ever beheld. The needles are about three inches long, finely tempered. and arranged in rather close tassels at the ends of slender branchlets that clothe I In- long, outs weeping limbs. How well thev sing in the wind, and how strikingly bar monious an effect is made by the immense cylindrical cones that depend loosely from the ends of the main branches! No one knows what Nature can do in the way oi pine-burs until he has seen those ol ih sugar-pine. They are commonly from lil teen to eighteen inches long, and three in diameter; green, shaded with dark purple on their sunward sides. They are ripe m September and October, Then the lUn scales open and the seeds take wing, bm the empty cones become still more heauti ful and effective, for their diameter is nearh doubled by the spreading of the scales, am their color changes to a warm yellowish brown; while they remain swinging on d" tree all the following winter and summer, aim continue very effectively beautiful even the ground many years after they fall- '" wood is deliriously fragrant, and fine m gin| and texture; it is of a rich cream-yellow, as formed of condensed sunbeams. Rclii "* Japanese; the sugar-pine is the sun-uee the Sierra. Unfortunately it is greatly p"' beaten to the finest dust, and is shed oil " myriads of minute sparkles that seem i! come from the very heart of the trees- if, like rain falling upon fertile soil, il s—a had been absorbed, to re-appear in flowers of light. This species also gives forth the finest music to the wind. After listening to it in all kinds of winds, night and day, season after season, I think I could approximate to my position on the mountains by this pine- music alone. If you would catch the tones of separate needles, climb a tree. They are well tempered, and give forth no uncertain sound, each standing out, with no interference excepting during heavy gales; then you may detect the click of one needle upon another, readily distinguishable from their free, wing-like hum. Some idea of their temper may be drawn from the fact that, notwithstanding they are so long, the vibrations that give rise to the peculiar shimmering of the light are made at the rate of about two hundred and fifty per minute. When a sugar-pine and one of this species equal in size are observed together, the latter is seen to be far more simple in manners, more lithely graceful, and its beauty is of a kind more easily appreciated; but then, it is, on the other hand, much less dignified and original in demeanor. The silver-pine seems eager to shoot aloft. Even while it is drowsing in autumn sun-gold, you may still detect a skyward aspiration. But the sugar-pine seems too unconsciously noble, and too complete in every way, to leave room for even a heavenward care. DOUGLAS SPRUCE. (Abies Douglasii.) This tree is the king of the spruces, as the sugar-pine is king of pines. It is by far the most majestic abies I ever beheld in any forest, one of the largest and longest-lived of the giants that flourish throughout the main pine zone, often attaining a height of nearly two hundred feet, and a diameter of six or seven. Where the growth is not too close, the strong, spreading branches come more than half-way down the trunk, and these are hung with innumerable slender, swaying sprays, that are handsomely feathered with the short leaves which radiate at right angles all around them. This vigorous spruce is ever beautiful, welcoming the mountain winds and the snow as well as the mellow summer light, and maintaining its youthful freshness undiminished from century to century through a thousand storms. Vol. XXII.—56. OLD AND YOUNG SPECIMENS OF PINUS PONDEROSA. It makes its finest appearance in the months of June and July. The rich brown buds, with which all its sprays are tipped, swell and break about this time, revealing the young leaves, which at first are bright yellow, making the tree appear as if covered with gay blossoms; while the pendulous bracted cones with their shell-like scales are a constant adornment. The young trees are mostly gathered into beautiful family groups, each sapling exquisitely symmetrical. The primary branches c/w? OLD INCENSE-CEDAR. are whorled regularly around the axis, generally in fives, while each is draped with long, feathery sprays, that descend in curves as free and as finely drawn as those of falling water. In Oregon and Washington Territory it grows in dense forests, growing tall and mast-like to a height, it is said, of three hundred feet, and is greatly prized as a lumber tree. But in the Sierra it is scattered sparsely among other trees, or forms small groves, seldom ascending higher than five thousand five hundred feet, and never making what would be called a forest. It is not particular in its choice of soil—wet or dry, smooth or rocky, it makes out to live well on them all. Two of the largest specimens I have measured are in Yosemite Valley, one of which surpasses eight feet in diameter, and is growing upon the terminal moraine of the residual glacier that occupied the South Fork Canon; the other is nearly as large, growing upon angular blocks of granite that have been shaken from the precipitous front of the Liberty Cap near the Nevada Fall. No other tree seems so capable of adapting itself to earthquake taluses, and many of these rough bowlder- slopes are occupied by it almost exclusively, especially in Yosemite gorges moistened by the spray of water-falls. INCENSE-CEDAR. ( Libocedrus decurrens.) The incense-cedar is another of the giants quite generally distributed throughout this portion of the forest, without exclusively occupying any considerable area, or even JNCENSE-CEIMR IN ITS PRIME. THE PEOPLE'S PROBLEM. 723 making extensive groves. It ascends to about five thousand feet on the warmer hill-sides, and reaches the climate most congenial to it at about from three thousand to four thousand feet, growing vigorously at this elevation on all kinds of soil, and in particular it is capable of enduring more moisture about its roots than any of its companions, excepting only the sequoia. The largest specimens are about a hundred and fifty feet high, and seven feet in diameter. The bark is brown, of a singularly rich tone very attractive to artists, and the foliage is tinted with a warmer yellow than that of any other evergreen in the woods. Casting your eye over the general forest from some ridge-top, the color alone of its spiry summits is sufficient to identify it in any company. In youth, say up to the age of seventy or eighty years, no other tree forms so strictly tapered a cone from top to bottom. The branches swoop outward and downward in bold curves, excepting the younger ones near the top, which aspire, while the lowest droop to the ground, and all spread out horizontally in flat, ferny plumes, beautifully fronded, and imbricated upon one another. As it becomes older, it grows strikingly irregular and picturesque. Large special branches put out at right angles from the trunk, form big, stubborn elbows, and then shoot up parallel with the axis. Very old trees are usually dead at the top, the main axis protruding above ample masses of green plumes, gray and lichen-covered, and drilled full of acorn holes by the woodpeckers. The plumes are exceedingly beautiful. No waving fern-frond in shady dell is more unreservedly beautiful in form and texture, or half so inspiring in color and spicy fragrance. In its prime, the whole tree is thatched with them, so that they shed off rain and snow like a roof, making fine mansions for storm-bound birds and mountaineers. But if you would see the Libocedrus in all its glory, you must go to the woods in winter. Then it is laden with myriads of four-sided staminate cones about the size of wheat grains,—winter wheat,— producing a golden tinge, and forming a noble illustration of Nature's immortal vigor and virility. The fertile cones are about three-fourths of an inch long, borne on the outside of the plumy branchlets, where they serve to enrich still more the surpassing beauty of this grand winter- blooming golden-rod./p https://scholarlycommons.pacific.edu/jmb/1198/thumbnail.jpg |
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