Climbing a 200 Foot Redwood Tree

Climbing a Giant: Fulfilling a Lifelong Dream in the Redwoods

March 2020 – Santa Cruz Mountains, California

A Bucket List Beyond Travel

My bucket list isn’t just about seeing the world—it’s about living it. While I’ve been to nearly every corner of the globe, many of my goals go beyond destinations. Some past milestones I’ve proudly checked off include:

The list is long, always evolving, and always calling me toward the next challenge.

The Elusive Redwood Climb

For years, one dream had lingered unchecked: climbing a redwood or sequoia tree. As a lover of wilderness and vertical adventure, it seemed like a perfect combination. But finding someone to guide such a climb? Nearly impossible.

Then one day, while flipping through National Geographic Adventure magazine, I stumbled on an article that changed everything. It featured a passionate tree climber dedicated to forest conservation and expanding the boundaries of rock climbing—by offering guided climbs of towering redwoods.

From Article to Action

Inspired, I immediately searched for him online. I:

  • Found his name

  • Tracked down his Facebook page

  • Sent him a message inquiring about joining a future climb

His response? He had a waitlist and hoped to launch climbs in about a year once logistics were in place. I thanked him and moved on—until a year later, when he reached out.

The Call Comes In

One year after my inquiry, he messaged me:
“Want to join a climb?”

He was organizing a private climb of a 200-foot-tall redwood tree, located on private land deep in the mountains outside Santa Cruz, California. I didn’t hesitate.

This was it—another life goal about to be crossed off.

Some Interesting Facts About Redwood Trees

Why I Had to Climb a Redwood

More Than a Tree—A Living Monument to Time

A Lifelong Fascination

Redwoods have captivated me for as long as I can remember. They are the tallest living organisms on Earth, reaching toward the sky like nature’s skyscrapers. But it’s not just their size—it’s their endurance.

These trees have stood for millennia, silently witnessing the rise and fall of civilizations, enduring fires, wars, droughts, and plagues. To climb one isn’t just a physical feat—it’s a spiritual one.

Climbing a Living, Breathing Giant

I’ve climbed rock faces before—vertical walls of lifeless stone. But a redwood? That’s different. Scaling an ancient, living organism that hosts its own micro-ecosystem of birds, insects, mosses, and lichens is a surreal experience.

Every crevice, every branch felt alive. I wasn’t conquering it—I was connecting with it.


What Makes Redwoods So Extraordinary

Here are just a few reasons why these trees are some of the most remarkable life forms on Earth:

  • They can live over 2,000 years
    Their tree rings serve as a climate history book, recording centuries of environmental data.

  • They are the tallest trees on the planet
    Some redwoods grow to nearly 400 feet tall—taller than the Statue of Liberty.

  • They are ancient survivors
    Perfected by nature to endure nearly everything—except human interference.

  • They grow only in a narrow strip of the Pacific Northwest
    From Northern California to Southern Oregon, this is their only natural habitat.

  • Only 5% of old-growth redwoods remain
    Logging decimated these forests. What’s left is precious.

  • They support an aerial ecosystem
    High in their branches, life thrives—ferns, mosses, insects, birds, and even small mammals.

Big Basin State Park

A Weekend in the Redwoods

Cabin Life and Exploration at Big Basin State Park

Making an Adventure Out of It

Since the climb was scheduled for Sunday, my wife and I decided to turn the experience into a weekend getaway. We booked a rustic, off-grid cabin at Big Basin Redwoods State Park—no electricity, just the warm glow of a woodfire stove to heat the chilly mountain air.

For two nights, this cozy, stripped-down cabin would be our base for exploring one of California’s most iconic natural treasures.

Discovering Big Basin

Nestled in the Santa Cruz Mountains, Big Basin Redwoods State Park holds a special place in California’s natural history. It’s:

  • California’s oldest state park
    Established in 1902, it’s the birthplace of the state’s conservation movement.

  • Home to the oldest redwood trees in the world
    Some trees here are over 2,000 years old.

  • A sanctuary for rare wildlife
    The park is home to a range of species, including bobcats, owls, and mountain lions.

While we didn’t spot any mountain lions ourselves (despite their reputation for frequenting the campground), knowing they roamed nearby added an extra layer of wilderness to our stay.

Our cozy rustic cabin

The rustic cabin surrounded by giant Redwood trees had a fireplace. Despite the fire, which we kept going all night, it was freezing. 

Road through redwoods in Big Basin State Park

Hiking Through Rain and Fire

A Day in Big Basin’s Living Forest

Rain-Soaked Beauty

It rained most of the day as we hiked Big Basin’s trails, but the downpour only added to the magic. The forest shimmered with life—ferns sparkled, bark steamed, and the redwoods stood like ancient guardians cloaked in mist.

Trails Covered in Salamanders

The rain brought out brightly colored salamanders, scattered across the trails. We stepped carefully, amazed by how alive the forest became with just a little water.

Fire: A Partner in Growth

Though soaked in rain, the redwoods also rely on fire for regeneration. Their fire-resistant bark and need for fire-cleared soil make wildfires essential to their life cycle.

Big Basin reminded us that this ancient forest thrives on contrast—rain and fire, destruction and renewal.

Salamander that came out in the rain.

Paula admiring giant tree

Tree fungus on Redwood

The Climb

Meeting the Team and Prepping for the Climb

Where Crossbows Meet Canopy Science

Arrival at the Redwood Grove

We arrived at a private property nestled in the mountains, home to a grove of ancient old-growth redwoods. There, we met Tim Kovar, our lead climber and forest conservationist, along with two assistants who would guide us up the tree.

The Ropes Were Already Set

Tim and his team had already rigged the ropes in place—a process far more technical than I imagined. Using a special crossbow, they launched ropes over the high limbs, then anchored them securely at the canopy. How they managed to get them safely tied up there still baffles me, but it was impressive.

Gear Check and Safety Briefing

After introductions, we geared up:

  • Tried on harnesses and helmets

  • Adjusted everything to fit perfectly

  • Received a quick but crucial abseiling tutorial—what to do, what not to do, and how to stay safe while ascending a 200-foot living tower

We were ready. The climb was about to begin.

Richard getting a climbing lesson 

A Moment of Respect Before the Climb

Trial, Error, and a Tree’s Blessing

Learning as We Go

After a quick 30-minute intro to the climbing system, the rest would be learn-by-doing—on the tree itself. It sounded a bit daunting, but our guides reassured us they’d be nearby to assist if needed.

A Spiritual Pause

Before we began, Tim gathered us in a quiet circle at the base of the tree. He offered a prayer of thanks, asking the redwood for permission and protection during our climb.

Whether spiritual or not, it was a powerful gesture. Standing before a living being that’s weathered centuries of storms, fires, and history, it was impossible not to feel reverence.

The Ascent Begins

Climbing Into the Canopy, One Foot at a Time

Assigned Guides and Separate Routes

Each of us had our own tree climbing guide. The redwood was so massive that I couldn’t even see my friend Richard—he was climbing on the opposite side of the same tree, completely out of view.

Learning the Rope System

We used a combination of ascender and descender devices clipped to ropes anchored high in the canopy. These were attached to our harnesses, allowing us to inch upward with leg power and technique.

The first 100 feet were branchless, requiring us to:

  • Use our feet against the tree for balance to avoid spinning

  • Push upward one step at a time by unclamping the ascender and leveraging a rope loop underfoot

  • Rely heavily on core and leg strength for momentum

It was slow, exhausting, and mechanical—but also deeply meditative.

Resting in the Air

Every ten minutes or so, we’d need a break. If a branch was within reach, I’d settle on it to catch my breath. Otherwise, I’d just hang in the harness, suspended in the stillness of the forest, swaying slightly with the wind.

The view below during the climb

Photo Paula took of us while climbing the tree

Reaching the Canopy

Lunch With the Birds, 200 Feet in the Air

At the Top of the Redwood

After 1.5 hours of climbing, we finally reached the top—where the rope anchor was secured. We rested on a massive branch, surrounded by an aerial world few humans ever see.

Up here, the air was thinner, the light filtered through high foliage, and the birds weren’t thrilled by our presence. They chirped and darted around us, disturbed by intruders in their rarely visited domain.

A Quick Break Before the Descent

We took a short break, eating a protein bar, sipping Gatorade, and switching from ascenders to descenders. After a quick tutorial from our guide, we leaned back, put our trust in the rope—and began our descent.


The Way Down

Faster, But Still Demanding

Descending took about 30 minutes—far quicker than going up—but it came with its own challenges:

  • The key was to stay stable and avoid spinning

  • You had to carefully manage the descender device, which could get stuck if the rope tension wasn’t just right

  • If it jammed, you had to lift slightly in your harness and pull the rope free manually

Despite the minor struggles, the descent was smoother, and the forest seemed to welcome us back down.

View of us climbing

Relaxing at the top of the tree

View of us descending 

Me descending down the tree. I look tiny against the massive girth of the tree.

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