If a hike is included, I encourage the reader to visit for one of two reasons. First, I believe the hike or area has a need for better stewardship. Some places rightly have a reputation because of the natural beauty—and hence see heavy use. It is exigent that these places be saved from the banality of visitation for the sake of visitation—the definitive reason for a visit should ultimately not be about us. You, the ever enlightened explorer, need to be around to set the example. What might you have to offer? How about proper wilderness ethics, an intrinsic love of botanical wonderlands, or a vote for an elected official willing to work for preservation.  

Next, I have included hikes which highlight the diversity and rarity of conifers along the trail—I hope to send you on a journey to a coniferous wonderland. While some conifers, like Douglas-firs, are met with on almost every hike, each of the 32 species of conifers treated in this work is represented on at least two hikes. For the most part, this book includes well known destinations that need—and deserve—a higher degree of understanding, as well as the resulting stewardship an informed visitor might provide. Observe carefully, however, and you will intuatively discover hidden gems: places and special trees that are rarely seen. But then again, there are gems everywhere in northwest California—some still undiscovered.

Additionally, Conifer Country is a reflection of personal epiphany. The wild, natural, and unspoiled bring me extreme joy and this is my attempt to share that joy. My objective, however, goes beyond merely identifying locations and tree species. I hope to provide an understanding and an appreciation; this corner of the world is not just a place to kayak, hunt, or botanize for that matter. Please take note: northwest California needs us. It needs comprehensive protection including corridors that link unprotected old-growth forests with formerly protected wilderness. While elk are returning, we also need the wolves and grizzly bears back here—there is enough space for them.  Let us teach people to share. Again, the reason for a visit, inherently, should not be for us but for them—the other biota—so that we can better understand their world.

While northwest California is large, around the size of the state of Virginia, it is fragmented. However, there is still time to save it, to bring it back together, to return it to a primordial state with all the charismatic megafauna that are supposed to be here while maintaining the charismatic megaflora that have been here for millenia. The region’s economy should be able to depend on the natural splendor that can be witnessed through visitation rather than the natural resources that can be extracted and can never be fully renewed. I hope this book motivates both you and me to do more for this geological jumble with a consonant climatic character.

As a culture, we need a closer connection to our world. We are losing touch every day as we zoom from place to place so that we can get home in time for the next episode of How real is their life? Conifer Country is one way I have attempted to find my own connection. All too often, humans slide down the surface of things without feeling or touching the earth, an earth that has provided us a solid place to root on our journey. This is not the slick and easy, fast and cheap way to see the Klamath. You are going to have to get your hands dirty and probably develop a smell. Patience and frequent visitation are a necessity if you really want to appreciate the place. Take these suggestions for a ride or a walk, and have some fun.