In search of the perfect Christmas tree

Finding the perfect Christmas tree in a national forest is harder than finding the classic needle in a haystack.

It's like finding one particular piece of hay in a haystack.

Counting everything from the tiniest seedling to old-growth giants, there are probably billions of trees in the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest (or at least it seems like it), and the one my wife, Kathy, and I were looking for was less than 12 feet tall (to meet the restrictions on our $10 permit), filled out on all sides and in the cone shape of the classic Christmas tree.

We didn't find it.

But we had a thrilling day searching for it.

The search began when we bought a permit at REI at Alderwood Mall. We were disappointed the store didn't have maps of the designated tree-cutting areas but figured we would get one at the Forest Service's Verlot Public Service Center, 11 miles east of Granite Falls, our destination.

We packed a lunch, brewed a thermos of coffee and loaded the truck with saw, tire chains, shovel, tarp, extra clothing and blanket.

The Forest Service recommends an early start to have as much daylight as possible, and for us that meant arriving at Verlot by 11:30 a.m. — and discovering our first mistake.

The center was closed.

A more careful reading of the Forest Service Web site would have shown that the center is not open on weekdays.

We decided to push on to Darrington via the Mountain Loop Highway, which would have been our second big mistake, had we not called ahead. The highway is still closed from damage done in the winter of 2003. It is one of many closed roads, in fact, and the Forest Service advises checking with them before you go.

The information about the Mountain Loop Highway was helpfully supplied by the Darrington Ranger Station, which we had telephoned to make sure it was open. We also asked about maps to the tree-cutting areas and were told that the maps were simply recommendations and that we could cut anywhere (the Forest Service Web site says the Mount Baker Snoqualmie Forest is generally open except for a few restricted areas — shown on the maps).

The woman at the Darrington station also advised us that the higher you go, the better the trees.

So we decided to head up.

A quick look at the map ... the map? Big Mistake No. 2: failure to pack an up-to-date map of the Mount Baker Snoqualmie Forest. Fortunately, rifling through the never-cleaned truck produced a 1970s vintage fire-district map of the area.

We turned onto a Forest Service road and drove by some denizens of the modern-day woods: young men with semi-automatic weapons blazing away at abandoned kitchen appliances. No wonder the Forest Service advises wearing hunter's orange or other brightly colored clothing.

About eight miles in, we were alone, above the day's fog and in the sunshine — until we rounded a bend to the shady side of the mountain and found a road full of snow. The all-weather tires were brand new so we pressed on — until my wife's white knuckles threatened to press through the dashboard.

We were traveling in tracks left by some behemoth vehicle, but our truck was only clearing the snow by inches, or so said my wife, who was out directing me as we tried to turn around. That required the four-wheel drive, some rusty winter-driving skills and Kathy's shouted instructions to keep from backing over the edge of the mountain.

It wasn't until we had the truck headed back to the sunny side of the mountain that we relaxed enough to start looking again for the perfect tree, parking at a trailhead and setting out on foot.

Here, trees towered a hundred feet in the air, blocking out the sun. No perfect trees under this canopy. In second-growth areas with thousands of trees bunched together, they all looked the same, like sticks of hay in a huge haystack. Most of the trees were spindlier than the trees we usually get from a tree farm.

And that's no wonder, says Paul Dierck, who is partners with his father Dan in the Pilchuck Secret Valley Christmas Tree Farm, just north of Arlington on Highway 9.

"You can't just put a tree out there and expect it to turn into a perfect Christmas tree," he told me later.

The Diercks plant their trees with 6-foot-square spacing so the trees don't crowd each other. They prune the trees every year to shape them. They fertilize once a year.

"That keeps the trees blue," Dierck said. "You may have noticed the trees in the forest have a yellow tint."

Still, the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest sells more than 10,000 tree permits each year, said Ron DeHart, public-affairs officer with the forest.

"We offer a recreational experience," he said, "not sheared or flocked trees. These are trees in the wild and will ultimately grow to maturity."

We didn't find the perfect tree, but we found an acceptable one. There will be plenty of room between the layers of branches to show off the hanging ornaments. The bare, flat side will have to go against a wall, but we've had to do that with farmed trees. And won't that yellow go nicely with our new drapes?

We cut down the tree, hauled it to the truck, attached the permit to the trunk as required and headed down the mountain, stopping at a sunny overlook to eat lunch.

And after my sandwich, dried cherries and some dark chocolate laced with espresso beans, the imperfect tree didn't seem to matter so much. I was lying on my back on the blanket, the sun above, Mount Pilchuck across the valley below and my wife's head resting on my chest. We talked about our family, about other Christmases and the trees that came with them.

The day — and our tree — was perfect.

John B. Saul, a former Seattle Times deputy Metro editor, lives in Shoreline.