Sequoia

A half-century has passed since my father worked for the National Park Service. It was high time for me to make the trek to his former stomping grounds in Sequoia and Kings Canyon national parks.

The adjacent California parks are home not only to the largest trees in the world, but also underground caverns, diverse wildlife species and stunning scenery. With nearly 900,000 acres, the jointly managed areas have a combined space that is larger than Yosemite, yet receive one-fourth as many visitors. Together they provide plenty of space for a true wilderness experience.

Once common throughout western North America, the Sequoiadendron giganteum, or giant sequoia, now grows only in a limited area of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Forward thinkers such as George Stewart, a newspaper editor, and conservationist John Muir influenced the establishment of Sequoia National Park in 1890.

Larger than anything else alive on Earth when measured by volume, the giant sequoia is a fascinating species. The trees can live more than a mind-boggling 3,000 years, meaning some began growing around the start of the Iron Age and the reign of Israel’s King David. Their roots extend up to 100 feet, and their thick bark, sometimes 2 to 3 feet deep, is fire-resistant. Wrote John Muir in a letter to his friend Jeanne Carr in 1870, "Do behold the King Sequoia! ‘Behold! Behold!’ seems all I can say."

Our first stop in Sequoia National Park was Lodgepole Village, where my husband, children and I oriented ourselves at the visitor center with its intriguing hands-on exhibits and well-informed rangers. We decided to start with the Congress Trail, a one-hour, self-guided hike past many of the park’s most famous trees: President, McKinley, the Senate Group and the House Group. The highlight, General Sherman, is the biggest tree in the world in terms of volume. With a circumference of 103 feet, the 275-foot-tall General Sherman is 2,100 years old, weighs 2.7 million pounds and continues to grow. It’s a humbling experience gazing up at this giant of giants, which existed at the time of Christ’s birth.

South of Congress Trail is the Giant Forest Museum, where displays compare sequoias with other trees, explain the plant’s growth cycle, and demonstrate how fire is a catalyst for forest regeneration. Further on are other sights that we reluctantly bypassed, as traversing the mountainous winding roads took longer than we had expected. However, we put them on our list for next time: Steep Moro Rock, with its panoramic views; Tharp’s Log, a cabin built in a fallen trunk; Auto Log, through which cars can drive; peaceful Crescent Meadow; Mineral King Valley, with its numerous lakes; and Crystal Cave, which out of the parks’ hundreds of caves is one of the few that can be accessed by visitors.

However, we might not ever do the 22-mile hike to Mount Whitney, which at 14,494 feet is the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States. My father, however, once surprised me by stating offhandedly that he had reached the summit back in the day.

Three days after graduating from high school, my dad began interning at the civil engineering department of the Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. He conducted surveying and engineering work for various park projects such as employee housing, visitor centers, parking lots, roads and utilities. Around campfires at night, he would talk story with his colleagues from around the country. Rangers would sit up high in their lookouts alert to forest fires, and occasionally ask my dad to bring them needed items.

"Like what?" I queried.

"Like ice cream!" my dad chuckled. Although summer park temperatures average in the 70s, they can climb into the 90s at times.

Unlike my dad, who slept in a trailer back in the 1950s, we stayed at the modern Wuksachi Lodge. Constructed of cedar and stone, this is the nicest accommodation in the park, but we were reminded that we were still in the wilderness when we saw a mouse scurry past our beds.

Heading north the next day into Kings Canyon National Park, we arrived at the main visitor center in the Grant Grove area. Conveniently situated a short walk away was our accommodation, the John Muir Lodge. Directly behind is the start of the narrow Panoramic Point Road. Navigating switchbacks, the 2.3-mile drive upward takes longer than planned, but the vistas of the park and beyond from the 7,700-foot elevation are expansive.

At night we returned to stargaze. Despite the reported air pollution levels in the park, the sky appeared thick with stars as the silhouettes of the giant sequoias stood out against the swath of the Milky Way. It was indeed memorable, but being alone in complete darkness made us nervous, and we clung to our flashlights.

"Ah, you’re just city slickers," commented my dad when we recounted our adventure.

We felt better, though, or at least closer to civilization, back at Grant Grove, sitting around a campfire listening to an environmental lecture. The parks offer some nature programs, such as ranger walks and talks, but emphasis is on simply enjoying the solitude and quietude of the surrounding wilderness.

One mile westward is General Grant Grove, where a self-guided tour of the 0.3-mile loop took us past the Fallen Monarch, which is so huge you can walk through it, and Gamlin Cabin, built in 1872. The most famous tree in Kings Canyon is General Grant, which ranks close behind General Sherman as the world’s second largest tree. General Grant is a memorial to U.S. military service personnel, and is also known as "The Nation’s Christmas Tree." Along the trail the sequoias continued to dwarf us.

Deep Kings Canyon with its frothy Kings River caused Muir to declare it "a rival to the Yosemite." The road, twisting thousands of feet up and down, is not for the faint of heart. We made sure we had ample gas before entering the parks, and shifted gears when heading downhill instead of riding and overheating the brakes as the utility truck ahead of us did (it pulled over safely to the smell of burning rubber).

Those who make the drive are rewarded with picture-perfect views of the emerald Kings River flowing through the angled granite of Kings Canyon. Boyden Cavern, a limited but steep trek upward from a parking lot, is a worthwhile place to stop and cool off, as the cave temperature is a continual 55 degrees. Its stalactite and stalagmite formations are impressive, and while we did not encounter any bats, we did get a taste of what pitch-dark means when the guide turned off his flashlight for a minute.

Further on is the gushing Roaring River Falls. A short walk from the parking lot is the well-situated viewpoint, where we watched the powerful falls plunge amid huge boulders.

Continuing on, we reached Zumwalt Meadow. This picturesque self-guided trail starts off winding across a bridge through forests and past marshes. It then opens up to stunning views of the verdant meadow framed by the more-than-8,000-foot-high granite cliffs North Dome and Grand Sentinel. At this half-mile point, the trail ceases to be universal access, and goes on to make a one-mile loop around the meadow.

Finally, we reached the end of the road — literally. Road’s End is located a few miles east of Zumwalt Meadow. We were now at the edge of the continental United States’ second-biggest stretch of land without roads. Here the pavement ends and the High Sierra begins. We turned around and headed homeward, but not without taking one last look at the giant sequoias, which in silent majesty will exist for millennia beyond us all.

Monica Quock Chan is a Honolulu-based freelance writer and former marketing executive. She has lived in Europe and Asia, and traveled to 75 countries.