At the Pinnacle Alone: Safeguarding Hyperion, the Tallest Tree on Earth

Viewed from the ground, the tallest tree on the planet can easily blend in: It shares the same rough, weathered bark as the other towering coast redwoods that dominate the fog-filled forests of Northern California, with foliage that mirrors the needle-like leaves of its companions. To truly appreciate what sets this tree apart, one would have to climb its massive trunk, as a botanist did in 2006. By lowering a measuring tape from the highest leaf, it would be revealed that this tree—known as Hyperion—soars above 380 feet, making it nearly 75 feet taller than the Statue of Liberty.

Yet, when hikers wander beneath Hyperion, they may remain unaware that they’re standing in the shadow of Earth’s tallest living organism, and one of its most renowned trees. Hyperion’s location is not found on any maps, and the exact site of its towering presence in the Redwood Creek basin is kept secret by the Redwood State and National Parks. The reason? Despite its towering size, Hyperion is delicate.

“When something globally extraordinary is discovered, people rush to witness it,” says Richard Campbell, director of restoration for the Save the Redwoods League, in an interview with Mytour [PDF]. “People want to take pictures, post them on Instagram, climb on it, and carve their names into it.” Such foot traffic can damage the tree’s surrounding flora and compact the soil around its roots. An influx of visitors could threaten the health of this 600-year-old giant.

Throughout history, the remarkable nature of coast redwoods has often been a significant threat to their survival. From the 1850s to the 1960s, over 90 percent of California’s original redwood forests were cut down for their precious timber. Hyperion survived this era, but keeping its location hidden might not suffice to protect it in the coming century. As the forests begin to recover, the threat of intense fires and other climate-related stressors now endanger their recovery. Conservationists are now hoping to leverage the redwoods’ natural allure to secure the species' future.

Fallen Giants

Being the tallest trees on the planet, coast redwoods have specific needs. To grow two to three feet each year, they require constant moisture. Even in regions with substantial rainfall, they depend on an additional moisture source, such as the thick fog produced by the ocean, which helps maintain damp conditions throughout the year in the redwood forests.

There are only a few places on Earth that fulfill these conditions. Today, the natural range of the coast redwood stretches across a 450-mile-long, 5- to 35-mile-wide stretch of coastline, running from Northern California into Southern Oregon.

Redwoods were once far more widespread in this region. However, their numbers began to dwindle starting in the mid-19th century, when an influx of white settlers arrived, hoping to make fortunes during the California gold rush. New towns emerged almost overnight, bringing with them a demand for building materials and furniture. The towering redwoods covering the land quickly became the go-to source for lumber. The wood, known for being beautiful, lightweight, and stronger than its close relative, the giant sequoia, was highly sought after. The same properties that allowed redwoods to grow so massive and endure for centuries—like tannins that resist decay and low resin that provides fire resistance—made their timber highly prized. Additionally, their size was an appealing factor. These trees often exceed 300 feet in height and measure 18 feet wide, yielding vast quantities of lumber.

Coast redwoods remain one of the most valuable species in the lumber industry. While Native American communities along the coast used redwood planks to build homes and canoes long before colonists arrived, they primarily harvested wood from fallen trees and encouraged new growth in the forests. The scale of destruction that began in 1850 was unlike anything seen before.

From the outset, redwood loggers faced opposition. California’s majestic giants stood out from any trees growing in the eastern United States, and conservationists felt compelled to protect them. In 1854, the San Francisco Daily Chronicle raised an alarm, warning, “Soon the whole neighborhood will be cleared of growing timber. Already the fairest and largest trees have fallen before fire, ax, and saw. Those magnificent pillars, which form so strange a crown to the mountains when seen from San Francisco and the bay, are slowly disappearing.”

The passion for California’s redwoods, including both the giant sequoia and the coast redwood, played a pivotal role in launching a broader conservation movement across the United States. In 1864, President Abraham Lincoln signed the Yosemite Grant Act, transferring control of Yosemite Valley and the Mariposa Big Tree Grove to the state of California, thereby creating the nation’s first state-controlled park. Sixteen years later, Sequoia National Park was established as California’s first national park and the second in the United States.

Although such legislation helped preserve a small portion of the state's oldest redwoods, the early 20th century brought even greater threats. Advancements in logging technology, paired with the post-World War II housing boom, led to an explosion in demand for lumber. Throughout the 1950s, redwoods were cut down at three times the rate seen in previous decades. The destruction of the redwood forests didn’t begin to slow down until the mid-1970s, by which time the majority of the ancient trees had already been harvested.

Conservationists have dedicated years to restoring the forests, but planting new trees isn’t a quick fix. Slowly growing trees, which take centuries to mature, are more robust, healthier, and better equipped to store carbon, making them crucial to the environment. “The old coast redwood forest has the ability to sequester and store more carbon than any place on land, pretty much,” says Campbell. “And the trees along the coast, especially up in Redwood State Park area, are sort of the epitome of that. They have the highest biomass of any forest. The most biomass of any tree.”

The survival of many of the old-growth redwoods along the coast can be attributed to the enlargement of Redwood National Park in 1978. This includes Hyperion, which narrowly escaped destruction in the last century.

On Top of the World

In the summer of 2006, naturalists Chris Atkins and Michael Taylor were exploring a secluded region of Redwood National Park when they stumbled upon a new contender for the title of the world’s tallest tree. Just two months earlier, they had discovered Helios and Icarus, towering at 376 feet and 371 feet, respectively—both surpassing the previous record holder, Stratosphere Giant in Humboldt Redwoods State Park.

This newly found coast redwood seemed to have the potential to surpass them all.

After identifying the tree, which they named Hyperion after the Titan father of Helios from Greek mythology, they reached out to botanist Steve Sillett of Humboldt State University, California. Sillett, the leading expert on coast redwoods, was the first scientist to climb the old-growth trees in 1987 and examine the rich ecosystems thriving in their canopies.

When Sillett arrived at the site, he assisted the researchers in measuring the tree with a laser rangefinder. The initial estimate put it at 378 feet, which would have easily made it the tallest tree. However, since laser rangefinders can sometimes be inaccurate, Sillett wanted to double-check. Using laser pulses to estimate distances between the viewer and the top and base of the tree, the measurements were decent, but Sillett gathered his ropes and mechanical ascenders to climb the tree and confirm.

Upon dropping a fiberglass tape from the top, it was revealed that their initial estimate had been off: Hyperion was 379.1 feet tall—three feet taller than the next tallest tree nearby. (It has grown over a foot since 2006.) What made this discovery even more remarkable was that Hyperion was located in the Redwood Creek basin, which was only recently protected. Lumber workers had cleared vast portions of the forest in the 1970s. In 1978, President Jimmy Carter signed the Redwood National Park expansion act, making the basin government-owned land. This legislation came just in time for Hyperion and the other towering trees in the area. From the tree's vantage point, Sillett could see where loggers had clear-cut part of the forest and estimated that Hyperion was probably no more than two weeks away from meeting the same fate.

Hyperion, the remarkable tree, is relatively young compared to other ancient redwoods. Experts estimate its age to be between 600 and 800 years, while the oldest coast redwood is over 2500 years old. In a 2006 interview with The New Yorker, Sillett remarked that Hyperion “could reach 390 feet within our lifetime.”

In order to stand a chance at surviving for another 600 years, the tree requires protection. This is why its exact location remains undisclosed by Redwood State and National Parks. However, it’s not entirely hidden; guides offer unofficial tours of the remote area where the famous tree grows. While the strenuous hike may prevent the location from becoming a major tourist attraction, the worsening climate crisis could soon present even bigger challenges for Hyperion, making foot traffic the least of its concerns.

Forest for the Trees

Wildfires have always been a natural part of the coast redwood’s ecosystem, but the new, climate change-fueled fires pose a unique and dangerous threat. In 2020, California experienced an unprecedented wildfire season, and by mid-October, 4.25 million acres had been scorched, including 81,000 acres of coast redwoods, with 11,000 of those acres being old-growth.

The changing climate has led to more frequent droughts and heatwaves in California, causing an accumulation of dry brush and dead wood on the forest floor. This, along with poor forest management, has resulted in unusually fierce fires.

Before the 19th century, Native Americans set controlled fires in the redwood forests to clear the underbrush and make space for new plant growth. When white settlers arrived, they worked to stop fires from spreading and allowed plant debris to build up. Fire suppression is now recognized as a key factor behind the destructive forest fires of modern times.

Despite their thick, fire-resistant bark, some coast redwoods cannot withstand such intense fires. Trees that survive may lose their crowns and take years to regenerate, disrupting entire ecosystems in the process. In addition to fires, climate change threatens the moisture essential for the redwoods' survival. As temperatures rise, the fog that nourishes these coastal forests evaporates. A 2010 study showed that the average fog coverage in the area decreased by more than three hours over the past century. It's uncertain whether this trend will continue with the worsening of global warming, and how, or if, coast redwoods will adapt.

In their struggle for survival, coast redwoods have an advantage that many vulnerable species lack: popularity. Campbell compares them to panda bears, noting that their global fame has helped raise awareness for wildlife conservation. He hopes redwoods can become just as iconic for forest and plant conservation as pandas are for wildlife.

This charisma draws people to hike through the wilderness just to see Hyperion in person. They’re astounded that such an organism exists and want to witness it for themselves. However, nature lovers don’t need to stand under the tallest redwood to appreciate the grandeur of the species. Every old-growth tree along the California coast deserves protection, and by not revealing Hyperion’s location, Redwood National Park has highlighted this important message.

"I’m not being cliché—it’s easy to focus on just one tree and forget the bigger picture, right? If you’re searching for the tallest among a forest of already towering 350-foot trees, you’re really just looking for the one that’s marginally bigger," Campbell says. "What the national park safeguards is the entire forest, and that whole ecosystem is truly magnificent."