Chuck Sleeps with General Grant

    California is a hard state to leave when you're on vacation!

    We were still obsessed--or rather I was still obsessed--with the giant sequoia and redwood trees. Seeing them. Breathing them in. We decided to pay a visit to Kings Canyon National Park and see one more famous giant sequoia. If you remember the General Sherman tree, this next tree was second only to that tree in trunk size. This Tree #2 on the Hit Parade of BIG TREES was estimated to be 1700 years old (can you imagine?) and was named after the great Civil War general and president Ulysses S. Grant.

   I know what you're thinking.

    Rascal Chuck did not have a good track record with giant sequoias. But he'd learned his lesson when he'd gotten stuck on the spongy bark of General Sherman. I was convinced Chuck could look and not climb the great General Grant.

    Plus, we had a ways to go before we reached General Grant and that journey involved a lot of walking. I was hoping the exercize would tire Chucky out. He would lose some of his rambunctiousness! Fingers crossed. 

    We first had to hike through glorious country to reach Roaring River Falls. The weather was in the low seventies. Despite the fires that were raging in parts of Yosemite National Park, up here in the Sierra Mountains the air was crisp and clear and there were no signs of smoke. 

    We traced the falls as they cascaded and broke along the rocks and wound along the river bed. Pure heaven. Maybe, for the first time, I understood, a cat's need to sniff. It's their way of interacting with nature. Here, near Roaring River Falls, you could taste the sweetness when you pulled that refreshing mountain air into your lungs.

    

    The riverbed water eventually dropped forty feet to a pool below, comprised almost completely of snowmelt from the mountains that ran through the canyons.  

   

    We then passed Kings River and the surrounding granite cliffs including two of the most famous. The first was named Grand Sentinel, and it measured 8,518 feet high. 

    

    The second equally famous structure was North Dome measured 8,717 feet high. 

     None of what we saw in the distance was of any interest to Chucky. He was focused on the trail that we walked and on the trees that surrounded us as we headed back to see General Grant. If he couldn't sniff it, he didn't want to know about it. 

    Finally, we reached out destination. There General Grant stood in all its glory in a fenced-in area, of course, so visitors won't stomp too close or touch the wonderful spongy bark (which makes these sequoias so impervious to insect attack or fire, but gives them that other world appeal). 

    

       I glanced down at Chuck, who was acting like a model cat. For the moment. I pointed to the fence. "Forbidden zone. Remember what happened the last time." 

    But was he even listening? Chucky has this annoying habit of looking directly at you as if he's hearing every word you're saying, but he's not really listening at all. 

    One of my all time favorite movies is Meet the Parents. Instantly I became the Robert De Niro character Jack in my favorite scene where he tries to intimidate his future son-in-law Ben Stiller. De Niro takes his two forefingers, points them at his eyes and then points them directly at Stiller. In other words--I'm watching YOU. I imitated that gesture to Chucky. He bounced back a little. 

      Satisfied I'd made my point, we took the wonderful boardwalk-like trail that went around the tree to the back. It was less crowded. Our guide was telling us about General Grant--the tree. 

    President Eisenhower declared it to be a National Shrine in 1956. It was dedicated to the men and women of the Armed Forces who fought and died to keep America free. General Grant is also called the Nation's Christmas Tree. 

    That piece of information--imagining this tree being decorated with bulbs and lights and tinsel--made me think about Chuck. One of his favorite places at Christmas is under our Christmas tree at home . . . Chuck. I looked down. No Chuck. 

    In the background I heard Dan ask when this magnificent tree was first called General Grant.

    "1867."

    I tugged on Dan's sleeve. "Chuck. Do you see him anywhere?"

    He shook his head.

    "Not again."

    Our guide and all the visitors were further ahead now. We stopped. "Chuck has to be here somewhere."

    We craned our necks upwards, both anticipating and dreading the inevitable--that Chuck, once again, was making an attempt to climb a giant sequoia. 

    We were dead wrong.

    It was only when we looked down that we spotted him--snoozing peacefully at the truck of General Grant. 

    

    Dan rescued Chuck from the forbidden zone. The poor kid, I thought. All that hiking and sightseeing had worn him plum out! Boy, could I sympathize. It was the end of a long day. 

    As we returned to our hotel that night, I thought about the day's events and wondered what I could have done differently. One thing for sure. I had to work on my Robert DeNiro I'm watching YOU impression. 

Chuck and the General Sherman Tree Scandal

 

    There are such things as sacred trees. In Sequoia National Park, in the southern Sierra Nevada Mountains (which are over 10 million years old), in California, giant Sequoia trees still live and breathe. This park, established in 1890, protects over 404,000 acres of forested mountainous terrain--most of it wilderness area--which means you can only get there by foot or horseback. 

    I was obsessed with seeing the sequoias in person. I wanted to stand next to one. I wanted to touch the bark. And I wanted to hear all the stories. They are legendary trees. 

    Dan and I (and, of course, Chuck) decided to visit California in the summer. Seeing the sequoias was number one on our list. Chuck was all in. It meant being outside. I also suspect the Chuckster had a secret desire to do more than just sniff one. 

    I did my research and was not shy about sharing the facts. We were on our way to the park. It was a beautiful California summer day. "Did you know," I said to Dan and Chuck, "that sequoias belong to the cypress tree family? They are the longest living organism on earth. They can live up to 2200 years or more. How's that for a startling statistic?"

    "Pretty impressive," Dan said.

    Chuck snorted.

    "Their bark, which is a bright red brown color, is about a foot thick which makes them disease and insect resistant. Also, fire resistant."

    "The bark feels spongy when you touch it," Dan added.

     I hadn't heard that. We were riding along for what seemed like hours, steadily gaining altitude, literally climbing a mountain, and about to see our first sequoia tree. Our tour guide Jeff was looking for a good parking spot. I was making a video, trying to capture all the trees that we passed.

    "Look. Look there." We passed our first giant sequoia." The bark of the tree was reddish. The trees themselves were wide in girth. Majestic looking. I was getting more excited by the minute. 

    Fast forward . . . in the park, we were in a kind of tree wonderland. 

Trees surrounded us: sequoias, redwoods--a distant cousin, lodgepole pines, sugar pine, red fir. We could get close and touch them. I took a moment and issued a silent thank you to the man who made it possible. John Muir. He believed it was important to protect the wild places in nature. He founded the Sierra Club. He is often called the "Father of our National Park System". He led a movement that resulted in Yosemite becoming a National Park. 

But the tree we were headed for was the most famous tree of all--the General Sherman Tree.

    This tree--as measured in 2022---is the largest tree on Earth by volume. It grows in the Giant Forest with five of the ten largest trees in the world. 

    As we got closer, the path became busier. Visitors, like ourselves, with backpacks and binoculars and cameras, crowded the path. To appreciate this natural wonder, you have to crane your neck back and look up--a long ways up. General Sherman is tall and wide. You have to step back to see how big it is. 

  

        Most people come to gawk. To take a photo of it. I had a different idea. It's hard to experience the tree with people milling around, talking and laughing.

    We decided to go around to the back of the tree. 

    You have to imagine General Sherman stands in all its magnificence as it has stood for 3,200 years. A wide expanse of land surrounds the tree. A gate made of logs surrounds the entire area so there is no way you can get close to the tree. The gate not only protects the roots but it prevents people from carving their names in the precious bark. It was quiet in the back. Deserted. Perfect.

    Chuck, believe it or not, was on his best behavior. I wasn't sure if he was more interested in General Sherman, however, or in the squirrel who was scampering near General Sherman.

    "Let it go," I said to Chucky. "That area inside the gate is the forbidden zone. General Sherman is a national landmark. You can get into big trouble if you try to go near it.

    My best approach was to distract him with interesting information. "Sequoias can drink up to 160 gallons of water a day. Now prepare to be amazed. Most plants get their water through their root system. But in these trees, the roots are not deep, they run sideways, so the roots can only provide about 60% of the water they need. The other 40% comes from the air."

    Dan interrupted. "What do you mean?"

    "Sequoias and redwoods can only grow in very wet areas--near an ocean, a stream, where there's a lot of fog. Their leaves literally have to pull the water out of the--" I stopped.

    Near the base of the General Sherman tree, an orange and white cat who looked suspiciously like Chuck, was sniffing the bark. 

    "Chuck, do not sniff--"

    He stopped sniffing. That much is true, but then he leapt up onto General Sherman, his claws latching onto the bark.

    I couldn't believe it. "Chuck."

    With no hesitation, he started to climb up General Sherman. One paw reached up and grabbed on. The other paw reached up.

    Sniffing was bad enough but climbing was an outright scandal. 

    "We have to get that cat down from that tree!"

    "Just give him a minute," Dan calmly said.

    Luckily, there was no one in sight. It was amazing how no one came around to the back of the tree. 

    "Does he actually think he's going to climb to the top?"

     Chuck took his third step. His fourth step.

    "How tall is it anyway?" Dan asked.

    "275 feet," I choked out. 

    "Well, Chucky has a long way to go."

    Suddenly he stopped climbing. 

    "Do you think he's stuck?" I asked.

    By this time, I'd had a chance to feel the bark on these sequoias. Dan was right when he'd described it as spongy. Had Chucky's nails somehow become embedded in that spongy substance, and now he was clinging there for dear life, hoping to be rescued?

    "Come on, Chuck," Dan called in his best fatherly voice.

    Chuck gave a little shake as if he were shaking off some kind of voodoo spell that had taken him over. Then with no preamble, he jumped to the ground and flew back, his paws barely touching the earth, through the danger zone. One second he was clinging to the tree, the next he was sitting, grooming near our feet, as if he hadn't done the worst possible thing.

    "Chuck--"

    Dan touched my arm. "If you're going to tell him off, don't waste your breath."

    Well, Dan was right. I decided to change tactics. "What did General Sherman smell like?" I was more than a little jealous that Chuck had gotten close to this historic tree when I'd had to admire the General from a distance. 

    "A tree," said a snarky voice.

    But it wasn't Chuck's voice. It was Dan's. 

    I gazed down at the Rascal Cat who always dares to do more than I'll ever do. I guess that's why I take him places when I travel. I often call him my alter ego, and I guess he is!!