The road through the aspens

The sun beamed down onto the frosty mountain ridges of central Utah as we sped down the state highway. We were approaching our final destination, a grove of quaking aspens situated right next to an alpine lake. Surprisingly, there was no arduous, long hike to the grove as one might expect with what felt to me like such an auspicious moment. Instead, we were able to drive right up to and through the forest.

My parents and I were making our way from our home in northern Colorado to what is believed to be the largest single organism to ever live on Earth. Named Pando (latin for “I spread”), the quaking aspen grove weighs an estimated 6 million kg (6,600 tons) and is believed to cover over 40 hectares (100 acres). Estimated to have begun growing at the end of the last ice age, Pando is approximately 11,000 years old. That’s pretty incredible!

We rounded the final turn onto the road that leads to the Pando aspen grove, and quickly began climbing towards the highest point of the road before descending into the valley of Fish Lake. Sitting at roughly 2,700 metres (9,000 feet) in elevation, my ears popped several times as we got nearer. The serenity of the landscape quickly became apparent as we came to the grove. You don’t immediately realise the immensity of Pando. Rather than one organism, it feels like just any other aspen forest you might find across North America; but, knowing that all of these individual trees are connected by their roots makes this aspen species special.

The road sign marking the edge of Pando

Pando is a male quaking aspen, which is a sexually- and asexually-reproducing tree species. Sexually, the aspen releases thousands of little seeds that resemble the fluffy cottonwood seeds often seen floating in the air in spring in most of North America. The seeds are then fertilised and grow into a new aspen grove. Asexually, the quaking aspen root system expands through the soil and sprouts stems through a process called suckering. These root systems can be incredibly extensive, allowing a single aspen to spread across vast areas. When forest fires clear out the trees above the ground, the underground aspen roots can quickly grow new stems and cover the newly exposed ground. In these scenarios, aspens can increase their area with insane speed.

The Gear I Used

To carry most of my supplies, clothes, and tech, I used my trusty Wandrd backpack, a rugged pack built to last. I really love this backpack and all of its features.

The camera I used to capture the pictures seen here is the Nikon D3500, with either an 18-55mm lens or a 24-70mm lens. I also used a Manfrotto tripod for stabilising the camera, when necessary.

We approached the aspen grove from the southwestern side on US 25, a thin winding road that skirts the sides of a ridge before descending into the valley. From this direction, the size of the colony wasn’t apparent until we were right inside of it. After exiting the car, we were only able to see a small section of the aspens from the road since the almost knee-deep snow prevented us from venturing further into the trees. Another obstacle stopping our path was the fences surrounding some of the younger sections of the trees. Upon reading some signage and doing further research, I found out that these trees were being protected from the local fauna (such as deer, elk, and moose) grazing on the younger trees before they could grow to their full size.

A fence surrounds a section of the aspens

This is where the story of Pando becomes more melancholy. It is believed that due to several factors, the Pando aspen grove hasn’t grown a substantial number of new stems in decades and it is beginning to die off. Drought and harsh conditions have prevented successful sprouting, and as mentioned, the grazing of animals on younger saplings has stopped many from maturing. Furthermore, recent construction of roads, campgrounds, and private cabins in and around Pando required the cutting down of many trees. Bark beetles and diseases like root rot and cankers degrade the trees that have been established for many years.

Some private cabins nestled among the aspens

Walking along the road through Pando, I realised just how special this experience was. It’s not every day that you get to see the biggest living thing, no less walk through it. Seeing African elephants, the largest land animal, or blue whales, the largest animal, are incredible moments, but I think walking through Pando is on another level, entirely. When the sheer scale of this single organism strikes you, it seems almost magical being there. With the sun glinting off the snow and a breeze flitting through the branches of thousands of connected quaking aspens, it was a moment unlike any other.

Pando may be dying, but like most things, there’s a silver lining. The trees of Pando that have been dying will be decomposed and the nutrients will get recycled to support new life. In addition, researchers from nearby universities in Utah are collaborating to find ways to stimulate the roots to make them sprout new stems more frequently. It’s also possible that wild fires will spread through the surrounding areas, and the root system would be able to quickly grow new shoots in the exposed soil. One problem with this is the protection of human developments next to Pando could also prevent the forest fires from burning the surrounding area. This would then prevent Pando from spreading and growing.

Fish Lake, near Pando

The future of Pando hangs in the balance. Maybe I was fortunate enough to see it before it disappears, or it’s possible that it could continue living, being an ancient and theoretically immortal organism.

As we left Pando that afternoon, I was in mild disbelief. That didn’t really just happen, did it? That was mystical! I thought. Spotting a bald eagle soaring low in the azure sky, we climbed back up the mountain pass and out of the valley of the Pando aspen grove. The frigid mountain air passed by our car windows as we sped away towards home.

A Possible Rival

Located in eastern Oregon, there is a colony of honey fungus that could contend with Pando’s size. Through a different form of roots that fungi have, called mycelium, the honey fungus is able to spread into a humongous colony. It is estimated that, depending on how much of the colony is actually connected, the total weight could be between 5.8 million and 31.75 million kilograms (6,500-35,000 tons). This incredibly large range in estimates suggests that more conclusive evidence is needed to declare a clear winner.


Sitting here writing this article while stuck in a hotel in Sydney, I can’t believe just how beautiful that day was. Words can hardly describe the feeling of being there, and I’ve tried my best for this article. One of the highlights of 2020 for me, I love that trip to Pando. Walking among those great, ashen trees was unbelievable and just makes me think about the scale of life. These trees, estimated to be over 11 thousand years old, are incredibly bigger than me.

There is not a lot an individual like you or I could do to directly help prevent the destruction and death of Pando, but we can help the growth of new quaking aspens by doing our small part in trying to slow global warming. Global warming will cause more frequent drought conditions, which prevents the growth of new aspen saplings. We can only hope that luck and the research currently being conducted can help Pando maintain its size and splendour for many more to experience.

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