Barking up a tree
High drama among the majestic redwoods trees--YES! REALLY!
This is Cool Book Facts, the random information we authors unearth while doing book research (aka procrastinating). I’m guest blogging for Sierra this week, so I thought I should introduce myself. Hi! I’m Mara Williams, and I write contemporary fiction. I also write a bi-weekly Substack called The Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction with observations about writing, family life, and everyday absurdities.
Note from Sierra: I went to high school for two years in Massachusetts and a boy I dated thought California was all Bay Watch beaches and desert and he said, “Idk know why you want to go back there, it has NO TREES.” And all these years later I am STILL pissed off about that. At the time, I yelled, “HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD OF REDWOOD TREES” and I guess he hadn’t. Anyway! Thanks Mara— I consider the following excellent post to be a big giant 🖕to that statement.
I was raised in California by a couple of hippies whose idea of vacation was a week in the woods with no electricity. We camped in the Santa Cruz or Sierra mountains, amongst the coastal redwoods or giant sequoias. At the time, I had no idea that the redwoods I spent so much time playing hide-and-seek behind weren’t a core childhood memory for everyone. I’m not sure when I learned that redwoods (I use the coastal and sequoia versions interchangeably here) were native to the West Coast, but it still blows my mind that the rest of the world does not get to experience their majesty.
So, of course, every book I write features these impressive giants. My second book, coming out in February 2026, is set in a fictional town surrounded by giant sequoias—the earth’s most massive trees—which live in only about 75 scattered groves on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevadas. They aren’t to be confused with their coastal redwood relatives, which grow taller but not as stout, and decorate the coast from Silicon Valley (where I call home) to Oregon. Below I share the random research I’ve uncovered while digging deep in the rabbit hole and redwood roots (which strangely enough, are not that deep at all).
It takes a village forest
Coastal redwoods are the tallest living things (not just trees) on earth and grow to well over 300 feet (imagine a football field standing upright). But their root systems are only 6-12 feet deep, which is absurd. That’s like Shaquille O’Neal trying to balance in toddler shoes. It’s a wonder these giants don’t topple—especially in earthquake territory. And yet, they somehow survive floods, tremors, fires, and drought.
That “somehow” is through cooperation. Their roots spread outward as far as 60-80 feet, and intertwine with the roots of other trees for stability. These miraculous creatures essentially hold hands to survive the whims of an inhospitable Earth.
Trees are often found in circles called “family circles.” They sprout from the roots of parent trees, and the parent nourishes them as they grow. Even when the parent dies, the siblings bolster each other (humans could learn from this level of dedication and loyalty). These trees are often clones of one another, but not always.
Sometimes you’ll see a ring of trees that are even closer together, a “fairy ring” or “redwood cathedral” that sprouts from the stump of a dying tree. It creates what appears to be an enclosed fort made of redwood giants whispering to each other for centuries.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way
Coastal redwood trees aren’t picky when it comes to reproduction. They scatter their genetic material all over the forest floor (or even in the suburbs as seen in the photo below). New trees sprout from roots, tree stumps, and from seeds. Tiny redwoods emerge under larger ones, all striving to survive in whatever conditions they face.
Approximately 80% of baby redwoods are clones, which means that the DNA of living trees can be traced back generations. Since one tree can live 2,000 years, estimates suggest that the cloned material originated tens of thousands of years ago. Talk about a legacy. (The first redwoods appeared right after the dinosaurs, 240,000 million years ago—they’ve seen some shit.)
For the 20% of trees created from seed, redwoods are continually experimenting with new mutations, with new versions more resistant to fungi, pests, or fire. Each new mutation tests a novel approach to survival. Some are better than others, though…
Ghost trees
One experiment that’s pretty cool, but maybe not particularly useful to the survival of the species, is the growth of albino trees, also known as “ghost trees.” As the name implies, these trees are stark white, like phantoms haunting the vibrant forest. There are a few chimera trees, which feature albino and green leaves entwined on the same tree. Since plants need chlorophyll to turn sunlight into energy, it’s not exactly a strategic adaptation. These wild, white, waxy trees grow up beside parent trees, a parasite on their root systems—like forty-year-olds playing video games in their mom’s basement. They don’t grow as tall, typically reaching only 20-30 feet. But apparently, they capture heavy metals from the atmosphere and function as a filtration system in areas with higher levels of air pollution. So, maybe the forty-year-old son isn’t a total drain. He cleans the kitchen every once in a while. I guess he can stay.
Birthed from fire
Since redwoods have made their home in California, it’s no wonder that they have adapted to fire and drought. They are designed for the hazardous conditions we locals dread. Periodic forest fires clear competing vegetation, cleaning the underbrush so their seeds can take root. Their bark is thick, fire-resistant, and nearly impenetrable. You can often spot fire scars on bark, but it’s nothing more than a skinned knee for these beauties.
But with climate change, the seasons are drier, and the fires are bigger, hotter, and more deadly. Redwoods are bearing the brunt. Some estimates suggest 20% of the remaining Giant Sequoias have been lost to fire since 2015. Unlike their coastal cousins, they can’t grow from living roots, so when they burn, they’re gone forever. Coastal Redwoods are not quite as vulnerable since they thrive in foggier conditions, so the fires tend to be less severe. Also, their ability to regenerate is unmatched.
Humans, unsurprisingly, are the villains in this story
Since 1850, when colonizers began moving into the West, 95% of old-growth redwoods have been cut down. Indigenous communities had lived beside and within these forests for centuries, honoring and respecting the giants that dwelled within them. Fallen trees were used for housing and canoes, but the ecosystems thrived under their care.
While giant sequoias can live up to 3,000 years and coastal redwoods up to 2,000 years, there are very few of those ancient trees left due to clear-cutting by early colonizers. Some of the damage was done after the 1906 earthquake. Redwood structures fared better and survived the catastrophic fires after the tremor, so the demand for redwood skyrocketed, leading to the deforestation of ancient landscapes. However, this inspired the early conservation movements, which stalled the devastation. The forests that remain are but a fraction of those that once covered the land, with second-growth redwoods barely beginning their lifespan and nowhere near full size.
The location of most albino trees is hidden from public record, as is the location of The Hyperion Tree—the tallest tree on Earth—because people cannot be trusted to protect them. Case in point, some websites lead overzealous site-seers right to the path of the fragile and rare trees.
And sometimes the hero
In December 1997, an activist climbed into a 1,000-year-old coastal redwood and lived there for TWO YEARS! With the support of local environmentalists, she staged a sit-in on a 180-foot-high platform to protest Pacific Lumber Company’s plan to clear-cut the forest in Humboldt County. They reached a deal in December of 1999 to protect the tree, named Luna, and the nearby forest from clear-cutting.
But most of the time, the bad guy
A year later, some idiot took a chainsaw to Luna, cutting three feet into her flesh halfway around her circumference.
We’re not all trash, because within a day of the discovery of the injury, the Department of Forestry, environmentalists, and even the Pacific Lumber Company worked together to stabilize Luna with steel brackets and cables. Twenty-five years later, she’s still healing and showing signs of growth.
A perfect metaphor
I knew I wanted to set my second book against the backdrop of the Sequoias because the book deals with themes of healing and resilience. What better running metaphor than these adaptable and enduring giants?
Learn more:
· The Sempervirens Fund is California’s first land trust and the only organization dedicated exclusively to protecting the redwood forests of the Santa Cruz Mountains. They have fun facts and information about conservation efforts.
· Save the Redwoods League envisions vibrant redwood forests of the scale and grandeur that once graced the California coast and the Sierra Nevada, protected forever, restored to grow old again, and connected to people through a network of magnificent parks and protected areas that inspire all of us with the beauty and power of nature.
· The National Park Service has a wealth of information about the redwoods, especially as they relate to several of the national parks that host Sequoias and Coastal Redwoods: Redwood National Park, Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park, and Yosemite.
· The Sanctuary Forest is the organization dedicated to protecting Luna, If you’re interested in hearing more about her story, visit their site. They provide yearly updates on her healing journey.
Thank you SO MUCH, Mara! And just so you know, Mara’s next book cover has been announced….and it has redwood trees on the cover!! It’s gorgeous!! 😍
Preorder it here and order her first book, The Truth Is In the Detours, too. (I read it and LOVED it!) In fact, I officially blurbed it:
"Clever, funny, and wonderfully romantic, The Truth Is in the Detours tells the story of a woman who finally gets to know herself. It delivers all the best story elements: delicious banter, tension, a road trip, gorgeous California settings, and hot romance. I devoured this sharp story. Mara Williams is a talent." --Sierra Godfrey, author of A Very Typical Family
Find Mara on Instagram or her website.
Thanks for reading! Don’t miss the other Cool Books Fact posts:
Do not miss Forgotten and unloved lions!
Read now about the Ishtar Gate!
Read about the dancing egg!