The White Pine
There is a white pine at Camp that towers above the rest of the forest. It is visible even from Nesbit Island, nearly a mile from Camp. We haven’t cored it -to determine its age, but best estimates from those who know these sorts of things put the age of the tree at 200+ years. In 1824 Minnesota was still 34 years away from becoming a state. Doc Green, the founder of Camp Mishawaka was not yet born, and Henry Schoolcraft- the explorer credited with finding the Headwaters of the Mississippi River was 7 years away from his “discovery.” Any residents of the Pokegama Lake area were surely indigenous members of the Dakota or Anishinaabe tribes.
In the course of its life, there is little doubt this tree suffered numerous insults.The most recent, and perhaps most drastic, came in the summer of 2021 when a big wind knocked down several of its biggest branches, cleaving a part of the branch union. I’ve consulted with several foresters about the health of the tree, but today got some of the best advice yet- and this from a man who makes his living cutting down trees. “Let it ride,” he said, when I asked if we should cut it down. “You’ll know when it’s time,” he added. (I should add that the tree is located in an area that doesn’t get much foot traffic, and poses no imminent risk.) I found myself surprised by his sentimentality, and more than a bit relieved.
Before Camp was a place with a dense hardwood forest of maple, oak, ash and birch, it was surely dominated by these majestic white pines. The “old” trees that give us sap and shelter each year are really not that old, as forest time goes. What we have now is often called “second growth.” Whether by intention, or oversight, this white pine survived the clear cut of the mid-1800’s. Or, maybe it just had no value at the time and was allowed to continue on. Either way, I felt a bit of gratitude for being able to help make the decision to spare its life, once again
Over the years, I have assisted in taking down hundreds of trees around Camp- either because they posed a danger, were damaged in a storm, or we needed to make room for a new building. In the 1990’s we lost nearly that many white and red oak trees which were attacked by an invasive beetle. In annual visits by the arborist who operated a tree service at that time, I would bristle each time he pointed up a leafless branch and proclaim that this tree was dying. It was not a stretch to say he could have found a reason to take each and every tree on the campus. “Aren’t they all dying?” I once asked him earnestly. I don’t recall that his response was anything more than a chuckle.
In the 200 years since the white pine seed took hold, much has changed in the area around Lake Pokegama. If that tree could talk, the stories it could tell. I doubt it realized how close it was to coming down today, but I imagine it, too, would be relieved. Let’s hope that any future insults won’t exceed a misdirected Belding camper finding relief at its base. We’ve got a lot more stories for it to witness at Camp, and with each ring it adds to its trunk this tree will surely have more stories to tell us all.
