Well, I guess I am one of those people who have to see something firsthand to believe it. In the case of the dying Eastern Hemlocks (Tsuga canadensis), it has been more a matter of me not wanting to believe. For years now, I have pointed out the signs and evidence to others and I have lamented on how bad it would be if we lost this majestic species. Yet my reluctance to accept their fate remained. The Eastern Hemlock, one of the region’s most prevalent species and the largest type of conifer on the Eastern seaboard, is now beyond sick and, in fact, many are now dead.

It was on a recent outing that the reality of the situation slapped me in the face. On a run up the Baxter Creek trail in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, there are many 100-year-old (and perhaps older) Eastern Hemlocks. I found myself stopping frequently to hug (yes, I am a self-pro- claimed “tree-hugger”) these giants and take value in their age and majestic stance. I couldn’t help but feel as though I was looking straight into a coffin and saying good-bye to a loved one.

This 6.3-mile trail just off the Big Creek picnic area goes straight up to a fire tower at nearly 6,000 feet. We’ve all heard about the woolly adelgid (Adeleges tsugae), the aphid that has taken up home on the underside of millions of Hemlock branches. The adelgid was originally introduced into this country from China in the 1920s. With no natural predators in this country to manage its population, the adelgid has become prolific and, in turn, has decimated the Eastern Hemlock population. Although the younger trees seem healthy, the older specimens fall victim to the veracious appetite of these invaders.

As I ran past these dead giants and farther up the mountain, I thought about what plant, tree, or species would soon take its place. Nature shows us that what seems like devastation today can actually mean the pathway for new life tomorrow. A great demonstration of this fact is the evidence left in the aftermath of a major forest fire. Several times in the past few years, I have gone to areas, including Table Rock State Park, that have been devastated by fire. At the time, the destruction seemed permanent. Just a few short years later, I returned to these sites to see a whole new world of life and new growth. When one species dies off, another will take root. When one is weakened, another, stronger species takes the main stage.

I wonder what the forest will look like in another decade or two. Will there be more poplars, birch, oak, or maple? Will there be a different conifer that will triumph? Just as when a loved one passes, I will mourn. For now, I will stop and hug my dying friends remembering their strength and beauty and say, “Good-bye, old friends.”

Stuart Cowles is the owner of ClimbMax (climbmaxnc.com) at 43 Wall Street and is an Appalachian Trail thru-hiker. He can be reached at 828.252.9996.
(Photo by Robert H. Mohlenbrock)