Brief-Form Post #58: Forest Discoveries While Measuring Tree Heights on Monte Sano State Park
I am pleased to add the 58th of my GBH Brief-Form Posts (Less than five minutes to read!) to my website. I get wordy with my routine Posts. I don’t want my enthusiasm for thoroughness and detail to discourage readers. So, I will occasionally publish these brief Posts.
Alabama State Parks Northwest District Naturalist Amber Coger, fellow retired forester Chris Stuhlinger, and I measured selected tree heights on the morning of February 10, 2026, at Monte Sano State Park. We chose the exceptionally fertile lower, concave, northeast-facing slopes along the Sinks Trail. The soils are limestone-derived, deep, and well-watered. I visit the area several times annually… and marvel at the diversity of hardwood species, the towering heights of the trees, and the straight boles. I refer to this stand as a cathedral grove.
I brought my measurement tools for the tasks, positioned below with my trekking pole for scale: a 100-foot reel; a diameter tape; a 10-factor basal area prism; and a clinometer. Don’t look for a detailed exposition on their use. We used the reel to measure 100 feet horizontally from the tree base. At 100 feet, the clinometer percent scale translates directly to vertical feet below and above eye level. The diameter tape measures the tree diameter at breast height (DBH). The prism estimates the square feet of basal area per acre (at breast height).

Amber quickly learned the fine art and skill of employing these basic forestry instruments, in this case tallying basal area.

A Magnificent Chestnut Oak
From my exhaustive experience in New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, and here in Alabama, chestnut oak commonly dominates ridgetops and upper slopes, poorer sites with shallow rocky soils that can be drouthy and of low fertility. Here’s a particularly gnarled ridgetop chestnut oak, squatty and mishapen, on the Rainbow Mountain Nature Preserve in nearby Madison, Alabama.

My chestnut oak stigma paints chestnut oak unfavorably. On better quality sites, chestnut oak doesn’t compete effectively with faster growing species like yellow polar, basswood, northern and southern red oak, and hickories. This chestnut oak along the Sinks Trail had caught my eye on previous visits. Stately, straight, and fat, this individual is 35.8″ DBH, and stands a remarkable 122 feet tall. Across the 53 years since earning a forestry bachelors degree, I don’t recall seeing such a superb chestnut oak. 
But low and behold, my search of the Alabama Forestry Commission’s 2025 State Champion Tree List revealed a different image than the one I’ve held for years. The Commission lists 32 oak species, including the chestnut oak champion, which stands at 147 feet, 25 feet taller than the Monte Sano specimen. Only the champion cherrybark oak is taller at 156 feet.
I pledge to adjust my chestnut oak stigma. I assure you that this is not the first time I have altered an impression based on knowledge, experience, and time, whether it be of people, places, or things. Another teachable moment surfaced during the morning. I have known this species as Quercus prinus since taking Dendrology in 1970, more than a half-century ago. Amber and Chris informed me that the esteemed gods of systematic botany and plant classification have recently (RECENT to me alone perhaps!) changed the species from prinus to montana. The Missouri Botanical Garden online reference reduced my chagrin:
Quercus montana, commonly called chestnut oak (also commonly called basket oak, rock oak and rock chestnut oak) is a medium to large sized deciduous oak of the white oak group that typically grows 50-70’ (less frequently to 100’) tall with a rounded crown. It is native to wooded slopes in dry upland areas, often with poor soils, from Maine to Indiana south to South Carolina and Alabama. It grows tallest in rich, well-drained soils.
The old timber beast occasionally resurfaces within me. This baby is a beauty: veneer log quality to at least 32 feet. Clear lumber all the way to the live crown. The thought just as quickly faded. Come on, Steve…for God’s sake, this is a State Park you old fool! Yet, I can’t shake the aroma of fresh sawdust and the rich patina of finished oak furniture. Or the heavenly warmth of a fine whiskey aged in a white oak barrel!


Whether commercial forest product or State Park forest treasure, its value is high wherever it grows. Measured and noted, the tree will stand as a lesson within the park’s information and interpretation portfolio. Why is this specimen special? What site factors (soil, slope position, nutrients, moisture, aspect) enable this individual to succeed?
Yellow Poplar Reaching Skyward
A few hundred feet downslope, I made note of the cathedral grove of primarily yellow poplar when I entered the stand near the lowermost signatory sink on the trail five years ago (March 12, 2021).


I photographed Jerry Weisenfeld, Alabama State Parks Advertising and Marketing Manager, standing beside the very same specimen that Amber, Chris, and I measured this February.

The prominent sink captures all surface water within the karst basin, directing it to subsurface. I have not encountered anyone who can tell me where the subterranean flow surfaces.
I have told many groups that some of these poplars exceed 140 feet.

The state champion yellow poplar stands at 172 feet. The three of us measured DBH at 28.1″ and height at 155 feet, 17 feet short of the champion! Keep in mind the champion designation is based on three measures: height, crown width, and bole cicumference. There may be, and often are, trees of the same species that are taller than the winner.
Two complementary Delights
We found a colony of scarlet elf cup mushrooms near the yellow polar. I love the moniker, the cup shape, and its spectacular scarlet and white.

Here is my 57-second video of the elf cup forest floor population.
Within the sheltered poplar stand, I found a cankered hickory, a tree form curiosity posing near the poplar.

Leonardo da Vinci studied Nature’s forms and shapes:
To such an extent does nature delight and abound in variety that among her trees there is not one plant to be found which is exactly like another.
Nature is the source of all true knowledge.
Closing
I accept the challenge of distilling these Brief-Form Posts into a single distinct reflection.
I often observe that every tree, every stand, and every forest tells a story. Sometimes we can’t discern the individual tree’s tale while we are distracted by the forest. We chose to focus our attention on two trees. We know them now as individuals. We hope that Amber and future park naturalists will share their stories and the lessons drawn from them.
Leonardo da Vinci would have appreciated our intent:
To such an extent does nature delight and abound in variety that among her trees there is not one plant to be found which is exactly like another.


























































































































































































