Mankind has celebrated the solstice with winter greens for thousands of years. From the Egyptians to Nordic Vikings, from palm to pine — trees have symbolized the return of the sun for the Northern Hemisphere. Well, America skipped the tradition for a couple hundred years with anxiety over its ties to pagan solstice rituals, but some German royalty influencers finally got us sorted. These days, we’re more concerned that people will think we’re trumpers for using American flag stamps on Christmas cards than whether our holiday decor suggests we’re pagan. And it has never felt so right to celebrate the return of the sun around a tree.

As a kid my family found our Christmas tree on my grandma’s farm pasture land. Eventually, the land was sold and we started going to a local tree farm like most who still get live trees. Our trees from the pasture were always oddly misshapen balls compared to the perfectly trimmed spruces and firs at the tree farm, but there was something special about walking through open prairie and forest to find the right tree. This is even more evident today as tree farms have become amusement parks with mazes and mini donut stands.

I suppose this all explains my interest in getting a permit to cut a tree in the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest while we lived in Utah, though I never committed to driving all the way to the Kamas ranger station the day they go on sale in order to actually procure one. Once we moved within casual driving distance of national forest back in Minnesota, I was pleasantly surprised to learn it was much easier to get a permit for holiday tree cutting than in Utah. Due to COVID, I could buy the permit online (they hadn’t even sold out on the first day of availability) and after a $2.50 service fee we were out $7.50 to harvest the tree of our liking.

The next step, determining a location within the Superior National Forest to find our tree, proved more challenging than expected. There are many parcels of private land scattered within the National Forest boundaries, so we really needed to select a good amount of space that was well within the actual forest for our search.

I had some crude forest service maps and a few screenshots downloaded in the likelihood that there was no cell service, and figured we’d probably run into some snafu with our selected tree area, but I guess that’s part of the fun.

We chose to go find our tree the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and the day came with perfect weather: sunny skies, temps in the low forties, no wind. We made the 80 minute-ish drive up 61 to our selected location without issue, and things started getting fun as soon as we got off the highway. The driving surface immediately became a narrow snow covered dirt road nestled between a mix of hardwood and pine. The path twisted along a river valley for a few miles before jetting fully into the woods. Within a mile of the national forest boundary we saw several stands of balsam fir (the preferred species for harvest) and parked the car along the side of the road. One of the few rules is to avoid cutting a tree visible from roads or campsites, so we had to identify an area that looked to have appropriate trees, then do a bit of bushwhacking in search of the perfect tree.

Emma and Amanda found a tree they liked early on, but needed to be reminded that our living room isn’t the size of a gymnasium. We agreed to continue walking the deserted road to look for other options.

Even compared to other hikes we’ve done up the shore, it was a serene experience — perfect quiet without wind or road noise.Though it was early afternoon, the sun was below the treetops in the Southern sky, giving us long shadows in the few places it peaked through. At this time of year, these woods get less than 9 hours of daylight.

We hiked out to another grove, and then we saw it — the perfect tree(top). This tree was also much too tall for our purpose, but by taking from a thick stand at least we allowed the neighboring trees a little breathing room. Despite its height, the narrow trunk made felling the tree with my dull handsaw a quick job. We had collected some additional pine boughs for a wreath and dispersed the remainder of the unused trunk in a few more minutes.

I tightly wrapped the tree in a tarp for a safe ride home. Though I was pretty aggressive with the ratchet straps the tree still proved slippery on the roof at freeway speeds. We’ll have to figure out a better system for next year because this is an activity that we definitely want to make a tradition.

Happy Solstice!