Madrone

Touch the bark of a madrone tree sometime. Put your whole hand on it, skin to skin. The tree’s covering is a blend of copper and green. The copper peels, the green stays. If you are in the United States, it’s called madrone, possibly madrona. If you are in Canada, it goes by Arbutus. In either country, the tree grows where it wants to, among rocks by the sea, or beneath Douglas firs in the forest. It is an understory tree, filling into spaces under the taller trees.

The Pacific madrone is mainly found in British Colombia, Puget Sound, and the coastal ranges of Oregon and northern California. It is an evergreen tree that can grow up to 100 ft tall and 6 ft wide. In the southern part of its range, it thrives from 2,000 to 4,300 ft in elevation. In the north, it starts at sea level and goes up to 3,000 ft.

The Scottish botanist, Archibald Menzies, described the Pacific madrone in 1792, saying, “its peculiar smooth bark of a reddish brown color will at all times attract the notice of the most superficial observer.”

My dad introduced me to the tree as we stacked it for firewood one fall. “This wood burns the hottest and the longest,” he said with notable reverence.

The tree is always producing something. Clusters of white flowers in the spring attract insects. Red berries in late summer and fall attract birds such as pileated woodpeckers, robins, varied thrushes, cedar waxwings, and band-tailed pigeons. The tree seems favored by birds over other trees for nesting.

The thin bark provides less fire protection, so it is vulnerable to flames. Yet, new growth bounces back after a fire or being cut down. Saplings pop up around the sides of the stump, forming a ring or crown around the former tree.

It is a hardwood, heavy, with a fine grain and little texture. It is so hard, nailing is problematic. Yet, it can make furniture, flooring, and paneling. The wood has no noticeable smell or taste.

The Saanich people (native to Puget Sound and British Colombia) did not traditionally use the tree as firewood. Chief Philip Paul said this was out of respect and honor to the tree, which was used to anchor canoes on top of Mt. Newton after the Great Flood around Vancouver Island. The story of the flood, passed down through the generations, is estimated to have happened 10,000 years ago. Mt. Newton was recently switched back to the name, ȽÁU,WELṈEW̱, its native name. 

Native cultures brewed tea from the bark and leaves to treat colds, stomach aches or stomach ulcers. Leaves were also crushed and made into lotions for mending cuts on horses and people.

The tree inspired Emily Carr, who was born to English parents, in Victoria, B.C. in 1871. She became a writer and a painter, including many madrone images in her work. She was a strong advocate for both the local environment and indigenous people. Carr’s native and nature themes in both painting and writing stood out and gave voice to the ways of people who were disappearing. Her work helped them to be seen.

There is a madrone tree in Portland, which got its start in 1957, and is now designated as a Heritage Tree. It was planted by Pat McDaniel, who, as a child, brought the tiny seedling back from a family camping trip in the Olympic Peninsula. Her father told her it probably wouldn’t survive, but it did, right on Bush street, near Southeast 82nd. If you are wondering what a heritage tree is, it is usually a large, individual tree that is considered irreplaceable. Heritage trees are protected because of their age, rarity, size, aesthetic, ecological, and historical value. 

Southern Oregon has a lot of madrone trees. It was used for the church doors at Trinity Episcopal Church in Ashland, as well as the pipe organs at Southern Oregon University, and St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Medford. 

Fact check about madrone trees. Here are the top three understandings, corrected:

1. They are all sick. Not true. They are declining in some areas, but many are still healthy.
2. If leaning, they are going to fall over. No. Not all leaning trees are going to fall over. 
3. It is a hard tree to transplant. Not necessarily true. Current tree conservation groups have successfully transplanted madrone trees.  

Another fact: I love madrone trees.

This article appears in the spring 2020 issue of Take Root magazine.