North America · Sierra Nevada, California · September 2026

Sequoia National Park

Walking among the giant sequoias — the largest living trees on earth — in California's Sierra Nevada.

Towering giant sequoia trunks in a misty Sierra Nevada forest with morning light and a lone walker on the trail — Giant Forest, first light

The journal

Some places recalibrate your sense of scale. Sequoia does it in a single step off the path — one moment you are a person on a trail, the next you are a small thing standing beside a trunk that was already old when Rome was young.

September 2026, with Becky and our grandson Kayden: Tunnel Rock on the way up, the Giant Forest, the General Sherman Tree, and the long paved path we rolled and walked together.

September 2026 · Morning

Up the foothills, under Tunnel Rock

Foothills Visitor Center & Tunnel Rock

We started low and dry, at the Foothills Visitor Center, where the hills are gold and the air still feels like the valley floor. Becky checked the map, Kayden checked how far the walk would be, and I checked the one thing I always check first now — how flat the path is, and how far it runs.

A little way up the road, Tunnel Rock sits balanced over the old carriageway like something left behind by giants. Kayden wanted to know how it stays up there. I told him it has managed so far, which satisfied him for about thirty seconds.

Foothills Visitor Center building below dry Sierra Nevada hills under a clear blue sky — Foothills Visitor Center — the start of the climb

Tunnel Rock, a huge granite boulder resting over the old road, with people standing on top — Tunnel Rock, on the way up

September 2026 · Midday

Into the Giant Forest

Giant Forest & Giant Forest Museum

The road climbs and the world changes. Pine gives way to cinnamon-coloured columns, the temperature drops, and the light comes down in long slanted bars. We stopped at the Giant Forest Museum first, mostly for shade and a map, and stayed for the sign that explains why these trees grow so big and live so long — thick fire-resistant bark, patient roots, and an unhurried few thousand years.

Outside, the paths are wide and mostly paved, which matters more to me than it used to. With Parkinson's, a trip is planned around surfaces. Sequoia turned out to be kind: smooth path, gentle grade, benches when I wanted them. I rolled, Becky walked, Kayden ran ahead and doubled back the way children do.

We kept stopping to look up. You cannot help it. The trunk fills your vision and then keeps going, and your eye runs out of tree long before the tree runs out of sky.

The Giant Forest Museum building with its green-trimmed windows and hanging sign — Giant Forest Museum

Park sign explaining why sequoia trees grow so big and live so long — Why so big, and so old?

A wide sequoia trunk flaring at the base, seen from below against a blue sky — Roots wide as a room

Looking up the full height of a sequoia to its crown against a clear sky — All the way to the crown

A tall sequoia catching afternoon sun above a wooden railing — Afternoon light on the bark

A woman and a boy walking a shaded forest path beside a split-rail fence and a giant sequoia trunk — Along the fence line, in the shade

September 2026 · Afternoon

Standing with General Sherman

General Sherman Tree

Then the big one. Kayden saw it before we did and went quiet, which for him is the highest form of praise. He tipped his head back so far his cap nearly came off, trying to find the top.

The sign does the arithmetic for you: about 275 feet tall, roughly 2,200 years old, some 1,385 tons of living wood. Numbers like that do not really land. What lands is standing at the base of something that was already ancient before almost every story you know was written, and realising it is still growing.

We stayed a long while. Becky took the photographs. I mostly just looked.

A boy in a blue cap looking toward the General Sherman Tree — First sight of General Sherman

A boy craning his neck to see the top of the General Sherman Tree — Trying to find the top

Interpretive sign showing the height, weight and volume of the General Sherman Tree — 275 feet, 2,200 years, 1,385 tons

The General Sherman Tree rising above the surrounding forest — The biggest tree on earth by volume

Looking up the length of a giant sequoia trunk into a bright blue sky — Straight up, into the blue

September 2026 · Late afternoon

The paved path, the fallen log, and the Sentinel

Congress Trail & the Sentinel Tree

The best part of the day was the simplest: the long paved path back, Kayden walking beside the tricycle, the two of us setting the same easy pace. No hurry, no stairs, nobody waiting on anybody.

We stopped at a fallen sequoia hollowed out into a doorway — a century of initials carved into the grain — and took the photograph I will keep from this trip. The Sentinel, standing outside the museum, saw us off on the way down.

Sequoia gave us a day where the size of everything made our own difficulties feel about the right size too. Small, manageable, worth the drive.

A man on a tricycle and a boy walking along the paved path toward a giant sequoia — Rolling the paved path together

A man on a tricycle and a boy posing inside a hollowed fallen sequoia log — Inside the fallen log

The Sentinel Tree behind its wooden name marker at the Giant Forest Museum — The Sentinel

Highlights

Tunnel Rock

A granite boulder balanced over the old road — the first stop worth getting out for.

Giant Forest Museum

Shade, maps, and the story of why these trees grow so big and live so long.

General Sherman Tree

275 feet, about 2,200 years old, 1,385 tons — the largest living tree on earth by volume.

The paved forest path

Smooth and gentle enough for the tricycle, so we all went the same way at the same pace.

The Sentinel Tree

Standing outside the museum, seeing visitors in and out all day.