If she runs into trouble deep in the forest, Lewis knows that finding her would be difficult as no marked path leads to her destination. “Am I overthinking,” she asks herself. “Should I just zip in and get to this tree?” 

She texts her sister, an archeologist with experience in the forest, who points out the  danger of going in alone. She makes the tough decision to wait until she is in the company of others before embarking on her quest.   

Lewis, who has been a big-tree hunter since 2018, has been on a mission to visit each of the 43 champion trees in the B.C. Big Tree registry and chronicle that journey through her memoir, Tracking Giants. Like many big-tree hunters, Lewis’ passion for the environment continues to bring her back to the forest where ancient trees have stood for hundreds, sometimes even thousands, of years. But as each day passes, more ancient  trees in B.C. disappear, felled by logging.

Old-growth forests have significant ecological value and play a key role in climate resilience and biodiversity. They are home to many animals, including grizzly bears, black bears, coastal wolves and black-tailed deer, which all rely on these ancient forests for survival. Old-growth forests contain about 90 per cent more shrubs and forbs than second-growth environments, resulting in a complex heterogeneous canopy with light pouring into the understudy. Great reservoirs of biodiversity, old-growth forests also  boast an unparalleled ability to keep carbon out of the atmosphere. Yet, with each passing day, these ancient ecosystems continue to vanish, felled by intense logging.

An interactive map released by Conservation North, a science-based conservation organization, shows how much of B.C.’s last primary forests have been disturbed. A sea of red makes it obvious just how much of the province’s forests have been disturbed. According to the province, B.C. has about 11.1 million hectares of old-growth forest, 10 million of which are protected or not economical to harvest. However, despite the government’s promise to maintain these forests, logging continues apace, with  companies such as Drax Global, the UK’s largest renewable energy company, moving in, wiping large expanses of primary forest.

A forest technologist with British Columbia Timber Sales, Greg Herringer is a knowledgeable big-tree hunter who helps to manage a legacy big-tree program that  reserves large trees in the area he supervises. Herringer’s job requires him to target the best places for harvesting. “I walk a tightrope,” he says. “I am conflicted most of the time between satisfying the needs of what British Columbia Timber Sales is mandated to do and my ethics and moral values.”

Herringer explains that his supervisors view him as a “pain in the ass” because his job is to advocate for reserving trees in certain areas. He often explores with fellow big-tree hunters, as well as experienced outdoors people like Mick Bailey.

For more than 40 years, Bailey has searched the forests for big trees and documented his experiences on his blog, BCtreehunter. He wants more people to be aware of the consequences of cutting down these giants. As a mentor to younger big-tree hunters, he hopes their use of social-media platforms like Instagram will allow them to connect with like-minded individuals and reach a wider audience of concerned people. He often gets together with other tree hunters to venture into the woods. “We call ourselves the ‘tree crew,’” says Lewis. “I enjoy tree tracking a lot more now. Going out with a group is way more fun.”