If all the world's a stage and the forest is a movie set, which trees have star power? Settle back and enjoy our biennial look at what's changed in the world of big trees.

—Whit Bronaugh

Imagine two years in the life of a mixed-age forest condensed into a one-hour movie. You could rejoice each spring as you see thousands of seedlings popping up all over, then mourn as most of them are eaten, wilted, overshadowed, starved, or trampled less than a minute later.

Cheer the select few that shoot up to the sapling stage, reaching several feet, perhaps, by the end of the movie. Watch for larger saplings and young trees to noticeably increase in girth and height, but you'll have to look closely to see the nearly imperceptible addition of one or two annual rings on bigger trees.

Except for the annual flush and fall of flowers and leaves, the odd fall of a major branch, and the relatively rare death and fall of a mature tree, not much happens in this movie, and it ends pretty much like it began. You could snooze through most of it and not miss a thing.

Now imagine a similar movie of a forest with a cast made up of titleholders from the National Register of Big Trees. There would be trees of all sizes-except none smaller than the Register's definition of a tree. Instead of making its debut as a seedling, each tree appears on screen at, or near, its species' maximum size.

You would witness the same seasonal changes, loss of branches, and growth in height and girth as in a natural forest but, by the end of this film, about 15 percent of the "actors" would have exited or died, to be replaced by a similar number of new actors in the surprise ending.

The two years since the previous edition of the National Register of Big Trees have yielded a sequel with its own dramatic changes. The 2004 edition honors 889 champions representing 738 species. Of these, 156 are newly crowned champions or co-champions of 142 different kinds of trees, while 115 former members of the royal family have lost their crowns or passed away.

The numbers have changed slightly but the five states with the most champions remain: Florida, still at the top with 163 champs, followed by California (102), Arizona (84), Texas (80), and Virginia (56). Together, they account for more than half of all current national champion trees.

Arizona, which was just one champion ahead of Texas in 2002, has solidified its number three ranking with a net gain of 14, although Texas was close behind with a net gain of 11. Big tree hunters were most productive in Arizona where they found 34 new champions. Other particularly active states were Texas (21 new champs), California (15), Tennessee (8), and Georgia (8).

Due to small size, lack of trees, or low tree species diversity, some states have relatively little chance of big tree glory at the national level. In 2002, 18 states and the District of Columbia had fewer than three national champs, if any. Since then, Nevada nabbed crowns for intermountain bristlecone pine and co-champ big sagebrush, while Connecticut claimed the new champion sugar maple and a co-champion oneseed hawthorn, to double their totals to four champs each.

Kansas had been without a champion since 1997 when storms diminished, and vandalism destroyed, the Louis Vieux Elm near Louisville. Now Kansas is back with a 141-point champion eastern redbud in Topeka. The District of Columbia recently announced its first valid national champion (an alder in the 1960s was misidentified), a 167-point common jujube which handily surpassed by 50 points previous co-champs from Texas and Georgia. Although Delaware, Massachusetts, North Dakota, Oklahoma, and Wyoming remain without national champs, their state big tree programs have located some impressive trees.

Big tree enthusiasts are committed to finding the biggest individuals of each species of tree, no matter what its potential, but we can't help but be enthralled by the truly big finds. One of the most surprising was a gigantic Monterey pine near Carmel, California. Although introduced and cultivated as a timber tree in the southern hemisphere, Monterey pine is native only to the central California coast where exceptional trees are 100 feet tall and 3 feet in diameter.

The new champion is twice as tall, has three times the diameter, and, with 570 points, outscores the previous champion by 248! This find moves the Monterey pine from relative obscurity in the Register to an overall ranking of 17, just five champs removed from the megatrees.

The third biggest new champion, an intermountain bristlecone pine in Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada, ended the 50-year reign of the Patriarch tree of California's White Mountains by just 26 points. Both trees are contenders for the nation's squattiest trees. The new champ is 38 feet in girth with a 44-foot spread but stands only 52 feet tall. With differences of only a few feet here and a few inches there, and the blessing of great longevity, this could start a rivalry that could still be waged in the year 4000 and beyond!

The biggest new broadleaf champion-with 486 points-is a cherrybark oak in Tipton County, Tennessee. This is one of those big trees that is truly big in every dimension. It has a crown spread that just misses matching its 123-foot height, and a tape-stretching girth of nearly 28 feet. Thirteen other new members of the royal family score in the 400s: silver maple, Arizona sycamore, Pacific madrone, American elm, common hackberry, two longbeak eucalyptus co-champs, and the black, willow, swamp chestnut, Shumard, white, and Texas live oaks.

When the famous 528-point Council (Pacific) Madrone blew down in 2000, its throne seemed inadequately filled by a 276-point unknown. Was the Council Madrone an aberration, or was the new champion an undeserving usurper? The new 433-point champion, of Carmel Valley, California, settled that question decisively, although it too has room to grow.

Ever since the even more famous Wye Oak toppled in 2002, the competition to find a new champion white oak has been fierce. As the second tree ever nominated for the National Register of Big Trees, and the undisputed champion ever since, Maryland has always claimed the crown for its state tree. Maryland contributed five nominations while 10 others came from Virginia, Ohio, New York, and the District of Columbia. A white oak in Brunswick County, Virginia, prevailed with 427 points. Its girth is 6 feet slimmer than the Wye Oak, but it is otherwise a majestic and worthy replacement.

After 64 years of a national campaign to find the biggest trees you might think that the chances of finding a bigger specimen of a well known tree are slim, unless the former champion loses life or limb. But for the 2004 Register, sharp-eyed tree lovers nominated 76 trees that beat the 2002 champions in their prime. In addition to those mentioned above, these include such well-known trees as quaking aspen, boxelder, northern catalpa, American holly, chestnut oak, and saguaro.

Other new champs are not as familiar, particularly those near the small end of the spectrum, because, as a species, they are more often on the shrub side of the definition of a tree. About one-third of the new champions (57) score fewer than 100 points, including 15 under 50 points.

The smallest new champ, a fireberry hawthorn at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle, Illinois, just outside Chicago is a skinny 8 inches in circumference, and just 10 feet tall. At 30 points it is just 5 points bigger than the smallest champions on the Register-the northern bayberry and corkwood.

Among the other new small champions you may recognize are the Texas redbud, yellow paloverde, mountain-laurel, and big sagebrush. The most impressive new flyweight is an 88-point huisachillo in Maricopa County, Arizona, that is more than three times bigger than the previous champ in Hidalgo, Texas.

Sometimes big-tree enthusiasm gets in the way of an accurate ID, and the masquerading champions must be unceremoniously booted from the Register. State big tree coordinators, especially in Ohio and Kentucky, recently unmasked 12 imposters.

Most were a different but closely related and similar species or variety. For example, the sand live oak and Texas Hercules-club "champions" were actually just regular varieties of live oak and Hercules-club. Identifying trees is not always as simple as field guides convey; even experts are sometimes wrong.

In one case of mistaken identity, the nominator knew a champion when he saw one, he just didn't know Quercus shumardii. A 391-point fenceline tree in Powell County, Kentucky, held the scarlet oak crown for the last nine years until it was correctly identified as the very similar Shumard oak. By then, its expanding girth had increased its score to 430 points, which qualified it as the new champion Shumard oak!

The majority of champion trees, even if they are the biggest in the country and not just the biggest yet found, are only a point or a few ahead of their closest contenders. Sometimes the loss of a limb means the loss of its crown, a fate shared by seven members of the class of 2002. A black oak in Westmoreland County, Virginia, was fatally pruned by Hurricane Isabel, and a southern bayberry near Charles City, Virginia was pruned by its owner(!).

But not all champs that lose points lose their crowns. The biggest yellow birch, of Deer Isle, Maine, lost 80 points but still looks down on all others of its kind. The biggest Bishop pine of Mendocino County, California, lost 90 points when it was correctly measured above a fork under 4 1/2 feet but is still the king.

The last two years have seen the demise of 38 champions, mostly from natural causes. Notable were three former greats, each with more than 500 points: the white oak of Wye Mills, Maryland; an eastern cottonwood blown down in Cassia County, Idaho; and a Jeffrey pine in the Sierras Nevada of California that succumbed to a pine beetle infestation after a reign of 20 years.

Other notable losses were the deaths of a 423-point American elm in Karlin, Michigan; a 422-point sugarberry in Society Hill, South Carolina; a 366-point American chestnut in Cicero, Washington; a 352-point sugar maple in Kitzmiller, Maryland; and a 301-point shortleaf pine in Putnam County, Georgia.

The lives of least three national champions were sadly deemed less valuable than human enterprise. A 74-point small-flower tamarisk in Portland, Oregon, was cut down; a 498-point longbeak eucalyptus in Pinal County, Arizona, was burned for sucking too much water from nearby crops; and a 178-point Mexican elder near Tubac, Arizona, was bulldozed for road construction.

Champions were found for 30 of the 98 species that had vacant thrones in 2002, but losses since then means there 87 trees remain champ-less. The thrones of many of these species (see page 48) are hard to fill because the species is tough to identify, confined to extreme southern Texas or Florida, or usually a shrub. Some of the more accessible species you should keep your eye out for are red alder, pin cherry, Jeffrey pine, Virginia pine, and sugarberry.

Of course, the true champion for many trees probably grows in obscurity like a wannabe actor waiting to be discovered. With a field guide, a tape measure, and some time in the woods, you just might find the next big star, and get your name in the credits of the next big tree "movie." AF

Photojournalist Whit Bronaugh lives in Eugene, Oregon.