Everyone has heard of the wonders of California’s coast redwoods. They can live for hundreds, even one or two thousand years, braving the fires, storms and pests of the West Coast.

But there’s an equally fascinating native tree in California: the bishop pine. Although it’s not a household name, this drought-resistant, rocky-soil-loving plant has found its own way of surviving the centuries.

Bishop pines are everything redwoods are not. They get cankers and break like pencils. When their root balls are mushy, a strong breeze will topple them over. In a forest fire? Whoosh, they’re gone.

But the fragility of the bishop’s pine is probably also its strength.

The largest natural bishop pine forest in the world is located in Tomales Bay State Park in Point Reyes. Just like the groves of their majestic cousins, the coast redwoods, bishop pine forests can last for thousands of years. But that’s because each individual bishop pine can quickly make way for the next generation.

The distribution of the pencil tree

Bishop pines were once widespread throughout western North America. That was in the Tertiary period, over 2.5 million years ago. Today, their range is largely limited to a narrow strip along the California coast. And it’s still shrinking!

A bishop pine in the Jepson Memorial Grove, along the Johnstone Trail, in Tomales Bay State Park on August 20, 2024.

One culprit is a fungal infection that causes bishop pines to develop cankers, which appear as large bulges in the tree’s branches and trunk. Cankers girdle the tree’s branches and trunk, causing them to bulge and leak resin. The girdle reduces nutrient flow and weakens the trunk, eventually causing it to break in two like a broken pencil.

There are many broken and fallen trees in Tomales Bay State Park and in Inverness, a small unincorporated community between the state park and Tomales Bay.

Cleaning up after the pines

To fully appreciate the largest and oldest remaining bishop pine forests, hikers can take the Johnstone Trail in Tomales Bay State Park. There, they’ll wander through trees and other vegetation still blanketed by the dew of coastal fog, and hike up the low hills to see Tomales Bay glittering in the distance—vistas glimpsed between the trunks of bishop pines that now stand more than 100 feet tall.

While hiking the trail, it’s more or less a matter of time before you come across local man Emmanuel Serriere as he clears away the tangle of trunks and branches that results when a huge tree falls, taking unfortunate neighbors with it to their deaths.

Serriere has been clearing the Johnstone Trail of pine and other trees for 14 years. He started when he retired next door and began walking the trail regularly. One day, the trail was blocked by a fallen tree. Instead of waiting for someone else to do something, he took his chainsaw and cleared the trail himself.

Emmanuel Serriere clears the Johnstone Trail in Tomales Bay State Park.

Serriere walks the trail almost daily for his own enjoyment, but he pays attention to how he can improve the experience for everyone: He removes loose roots, which he calls “widow makers”; he fills in huge potholes left by overgrown root balls; and, of course, he clears away fallen logs.

The state park works with numerous volunteers and staff to keep the Johnstone Trail open and safe for visitors, but Serriere is particularly active. He enjoys his work and, more than that, he enjoys the experience of a pleasant hike, something he is proud to share with other hikers.

Serriere estimated that he had removed over a hundred logs from the Johnstone Trail. He often works with colleague Gerald Meral and coordinates with park rangers during particularly bad pileups.

However, you know Serriere cut down a tree when you see one. The evidence is still visible on the slowly decomposing trunks that lie beside the trail – literally on every cross-section, where Serriere has noted in thick felt-tip pen the date he removed the fallen tree in question.

A fallen tree lies beside the Johnstone Trail in Tomales Bay State Park. Emmanuel Serriere clears the trail as part of his maintenance work and dates the trunks with a permanent marker as a reminder of his work.

Suitable for success

However, not all locals share Serriere’s disdain for the pesky bishop pines.

Tom Gaman, a professional forester who has studied the bishop pine forest in Tomales Bay in depth, grows bishop pines on his property. Gaman said he likes that they are native and thrive in the right natural conditions. If they are healthy enough, they can even overcome canker infections.

Tom Gaman next to a bishop pine that he grew from seed.

Gaman showed me a dozen mature bishop pines in his garden that he had planted from seed.

Bishop pine seeds are not something you can just buy. Gaman collected the cones himself. Even his 5-year-old bishop pines had small cones. The hardest part was getting the seeds out. Bishop pine cones are sealed with resin. The seeds stay trapped in these sealed cones until a fire melts the resin and the cones can finally pop open.

Bishop pine seedlings growing in Tom Gaman’s garden.

Gaman extracted the seeds by roasting the cones in his oven, but wild bishop pines rely on wildfires to reproduce. While wildfires often kill mature bishop pines, the heat also opens their cones and the fiery winds disperse the seeds, which then grow into new trees.

Because bishop pines require wildfires to thrive, they increase wildfire risk as they age. The forest surrounding Johnstone Trail is filled with dead trees, fallen branches and dense piles of dried needles. “Around here, you can walk through a bishop pine forest and it hasn’t burned in so long that the leaf litter can be a foot deep,” Gaman said.

This buildup of organic material is fuelling fears of an exceptionally large and rapidly spreading wildfire in Inverness. Until that happens, however, the debris is indeed a major problem for the bishop pines.

Tom Gaman keeps his collection of extracted bishop pine seeds. The seeds are encased in pine cones sealed with pitch. Gaman opens the cones by roasting them in his oven. Bishop pines rely on wildfires to reproduce in the wild.

Gaman said bishop pine seeds only germinate when planted on what foresters call “bare mineral soil.” In 1939, twelve years before Tomales Bay State Park opened, there was a major fire that devastated the land. The bishop pine forest we see today grew back naturally after that forest fire.

The forest is now 80 years old and the dying bishop pines are being replaced by oaks and laurels. Without another wildfire, this native bishop pine forest – the largest natural bishop pine grove in the world – will eventually disappear.

Resilience of the forest, not the trees

Gaman explained that it’s not because bishop pines are fragile. “In the lifetime of a sequoia, there can be 40 generations of bishop pines,” Gaman said. “So bishop pines are resilient in the sense that the young trees can break out into the landscape after a fire.”

The beauty of bishop pines is that they make room for the next generation. While it is a chore to clear away fallen trees, it is a task that is better enjoyed after hiking the Johnstone Trail.

Emmanuel Serriere hikes through the bishop pine forest along the Johnstone Trail in Tomales Bay State Park.

After I watched Serriere clear a lower part of the trail, we hiked up to a ridge. First he pointed to the fallen tree he had cleared, marking the highest point of the trail. Then he turned to the clearing left by the dead tree.

“Look, we have new babies,” Serriere exclaimed. “New bishop pines are coming.”

A bishop pine (left center) is seen from Heart’s Desire Beach in Tomales Bay State Park on August 20, 2024.