Holy Crap, Trees Are Bigger Than I Thought
There are places you visit because they’re famous.
There are places you visit because Instagram told everybody to go there.
And then there are places you visit that quietly remind you that human beings are tiny, temporary creatures living on a damp rock hurtling through space.
Muir Woods is one of those places.
I expected beautiful trees.
I got existential forestry.
This place is absolutely magical.
Not “that’s a nice park” magical.
Not “that tree is pretty big” magical.
I mean standing underneath a living thing that was already hundreds of years old before Columbus accidentally discovered somebody else’s continent magical.
This is excellent crap.
The Crap at a Glance
Muir Woods protects one of the last remaining old-growth coast redwood forests near San Francisco.
Some of these trees are:
- Roughly 600 to 800 years old
- More than 250 feet tall
- Old enough to have witnessed entire civilizations rise and fall
- Still somehow healthier than most people I know
The tallest trees reach roughly 260 feet, and some redwoods can live for more than 2,000 years. That’s not a typo. That’s a tree casually outlasting empires. [en.wikipedia.org]
You don’t really appreciate those numbers until you’re standing next to one.
Then your brain simply gives up and starts making dial-up modem noises.
The First Thing You’ll Notice
The silence.
Or at least what passes for silence.
The forest absorbs sound in a way that feels almost unnatural.
You hear birds.
You hear the creek.
You hear leaves moving somewhere above you.
What you don’t hear is the constant background noise modern life has trained us to ignore.
For the first twenty minutes I felt like somebody had turned the volume control on reality down.
After an hour I didn’t want to leave.
The Trees Are Showing Off
Let’s be honest.
The redwoods know exactly what they’re doing.
Every corner of the trail seems designed specifically to make visitors say:
“That’s the biggest tree I’ve ever seen.”
Then you walk another hundred feet and immediately find a bigger one.
Redwoods are basically the overachievers of the plant kingdom.
Regular trees grow upward.
Redwoods grow upward and then continue growing until God personally asks them to calm down.
Beware of the Selfie Migration
Now we need to have an important conversation.
Not about bears.
Not about mountain lions.
Not about falling trees.
About tourists.
Specifically the small but determined population of people who apparently traveled hundreds of miles to photograph themselves proving they traveled hundreds of miles.
Near the entrance you’ll occasionally encounter a fascinating natural phenomenon.
A group of visitors will discover a large redwood standing next to a sign.
At this point they begin an elaborate ritual involving:
- Taking selfies
- Reviewing selfies
- Retaking selfies
- Taking group selfies
- Taking serious selfies
- Taking candid selfies that required twelve attempts
- Taking videos proving they were taking selfies
Meanwhile, approximately seventeen people are trying to walk through the same narrow space.
Look, I’m not anti-selfie.
Take a picture.
Take ten pictures.
Just remember the tree has been standing there since before Shakespeare was born.
It can wait.
The line behind you probably shouldn’t have to.
A Brief History Lesson
One of the coolest things about Muir Woods is that it still exists.
Because statistically, it shouldn’t.
Roughly 97% of the original old-growth coast redwood ecosystem has been altered or lost over time. [en.wikipedia.org]
The forest survives because multiple groups of people decided it was worth saving.
The Coast Miwok lived in this region for thousands of years before Europeans arrived.
Later conservationists, civic groups, and the Kent family worked to protect the canyon from development.
In 1908, President Theodore Roosevelt officially established Muir Woods National Monument. [en.wikipedia.org]
Which means that every visitor today owes a quiet thank-you to a whole chain of people who looked at these trees and correctly concluded:
“Maybe we shouldn’t chop all of this down.”
Things That Surprised Me
The Temperature
California can be warm.
Muir Woods frequently isn’t.
The forest is cool, damp, shady, and filled with fog influence from the coast.
Bring layers.
You may start your day dressed for California and finish it dressed for Seattle.
The Accessibility
I expected rugged mountain hiking.
Instead, much of the main grove is remarkably easy to explore.
The primary trails are flat, accessible, and extremely visitor-friendly.
This means nearly everyone can experience the giant redwoods without needing to summit a mountain first.
That’s a huge win.
The Creek
The trees get all the attention.
The creek deserves some too.
Redwood Creek winds through the monument helping create the conditions that allow these giants to survive.
If you slow down and actually look around, you’ll notice that the forest isn’t just trees.
It’s ferns.
Moss.
Birds.
Salmon habitat.
Fungi.
Thousands of interconnected pieces quietly doing their thing while tourists argue over camera angles.
What Sucks
Honestly?
Very little.
The reservation system can be annoying.
Parking requires planning.
Cell service is limited.
Popular times can get crowded.
And yes, certain tourists occasionally forget they’re visiting a forest and not conducting a professional modeling shoot.
But none of those things are enough to diminish the experience.
Why This Place Feels Different
A lot of national parks impress you.
Muir Woods affects you.
There’s something about walking among living things that have survived for centuries that recalibrates your sense of time.
The problems waiting for you at home suddenly feel a little smaller.
The emails can wait.
The deadlines can wait.
The news can definitely wait.
The trees have been standing there for hundreds of years.
They’re in no hurry.
After a while, you stop being in a hurry too.
Final Thoughts
I loved Muir Woods.
Absolutely loved it.
It’s beautiful.
It’s peaceful.
It’s humbling.
It’s one of the rare places that somehow manages to exceed the hype.
The photographs don’t do it justice.
The videos don’t do it justice.
Even the giant trees don’t seem real until you’re standing underneath them.
My only warning is to watch out for the occasional wandering selfie enthusiast who believes the entire monument has been reserved for their social media content.
Other than that?
Fucking magical.
Poop Score: 💩
1 Out of 4 Poops — Excellent Crap
Why?
Muir Woods combines ancient redwoods, incredible conservation history, accessible trails, beautiful scenery, and a sense of peace that’s increasingly difficult to find.
The reservation system can be a minor hassle and some visitors occasionally forget they’re sharing the forest with other humans.
But once you’re standing beneath trees that have been alive for centuries, those complaints fade away pretty quickly.
This is not just excellent crap.
This is the kind of crap that reminds you why national parks and protected places matter in the first place. 🌲💩🌲
