Pando Forest
- Alex Cabrero
- Oct 26
- 5 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
(Fishlake National Forest) There are places we visit because we want to see something new. And then there are places we visit because our hearts quietly ask us to. For Kylie and I, the Pando Forest has become both. Before I get into why this forest is special to us, it’s important to explain why this place should be special to everybody.
Pando really is an extraordinary place. I had always heard of it before I ever visited, but it wasn’t until I stood among its white trunks that I understood how incredible it really is. Pando isn’t just a grove of quaking aspens.
It’s one single living organism.
Scientists call it a “clonal colony,” meaning every tree you see is actually a stem connected to the same massive underground root system. Genetically, all the trunks are identical and it’s one large living organism. The trees are individual in appearance but physically part of the same being. What?! Yes. It’s basically one tree and is considered one of the world’s natural wonders. Pando is an appropriate name because it’s Latin for “I spread.”
This massive quaking aspen clone spreads across more than a hundred acres in the Fishlake National Forest. It’s also known as the Trembling Giant, and standing among its white trunks and rustling leaves, you feel like you’re in the presence of something ancient and alive in a way few places are. It’s estimated there are about 50,000 trees in this grove weighing about 13 million pounds, making it one of the heaviest living organisms on Earth. The root system itself could be thousands of years old, possibly dating back to the last Ice Age.
Standing within the trees of Pando feels different from standing in any other forest. You’re not just surrounded by trees… you’re inside a single giant lifeform. It’s ancient, fragile, and strong all at once. And when the wind moves through those leaves, you feel like you’re listening to something timeless.
But for Kylie and I, Pando is much more personal.
One year ago, on the day our dog Timber died, Kylie and I found ourselves in an unbearably quiet house. Timber had been with us everywhere on every trail, every adventure, and every drive down a dirt road. And then all of a sudden, every corner of our home echoed with the feeling that she wasn’t there. We needed to get out. We needed somewhere that didn’t hold memories of her simply because everywhere did. Pando felt far enough, quiet enough, and different enough. So, the next day, we went to Pando. But as soon as I stepped out of the Jeep far from the main road, I heard the wind move through the aspens and the weight of it all hit me. Tears just rolled down my face. Kylie and I knew Timber would’ve loved it there with all the new smells and dirt roads. That thought alone felt like a punch to the chest. That first trip to Pando was what we needed, but it was also incredibly sad.
So, on the 1-year anniversary of Timber’s death, Kylie and I decided to come back. We didn’t return to Pando to relive grief, but to create something better. This time, we had our new puppy Aspen with us. We wanted happy memories of this place instead of sad memories.
In a funny way, maybe we named her Aspen after these trees without realizing it. I didn’t really make the connection until we were there, but it seemed like Aspen thought the whole grove was named after her. As far as she’s concerned, Pando is her kingdom. And seeing her bouncing around, posing for pictures, and fetching sticks, it was obvious this entire forest was her playground. Watching her run where Timber never got to felt strangely healing. Not replacing, not forgetting, just… healing.
We visited in October, which is the off-season here. It meant many lodges and places to eat were closed, but that just made the forest feel even more peaceful. There is a small store that was still open where you could buy snacks, drinks, and some small souvenirs. The campsites were closed as well, but we saw a few people in boats on Fish Lake fishing. There were some people fishing off the docks as well. I think this would be a great place to visit during the busy season.
One thing that was new when we visited the second time is a large fence surrounding parts of Pando. The Forest Service and conservationists are working to help young aspens grow. Some areas of Pando are struggling due to age, disease, and insects. Even though individual trunks live roughly 80–130 years, the organism survives by constantly sending up new shoots. It regenerates from itself, which is part of what makes it so resilient, but livestock and deer often eat the new plants before they ever have a chancd to grow.
There’s a gate you can pass through at the main entrance to the forest as long as you close it behind you. We also noticed a laminated sign explaining some of the restoration efforts taking place. It gives you a sense of how fragile even a “giant” can be.
Not everything was perfect, of course. It was upsetting to see the scars people carved into the trunks. Initials and names that shouldn’t be there. I understand ”leave no trace” wasn’t really a thing decades ago, but a lot of the carvings were recent with current years and initials cut into the bark. In a place this special, you hope people would treat it like the living organism it is.
I bring Timber’s little paw-print pendant holding some of her ashes on many of our adventures. I felt like this was a place where I should bring her and placed it on one of the trees for a photo. Not as a goodbye, but as a reminder she’s still with us in the ways that matter. This time, it didn’t feel like grief. It felt like growth, much like the new aspen shoots trying to rise inside that fenced regeneration area. She’ll always be my good girl and I wish Aspen could’ve met her.
It’s beautiful. It’s quiet. And it’s one of the most scientifically fascinating places in Utah. Pando is a reminder that even when things break our hearts, life finds a way to continue, grow, and to spread. Just like those aspen roots beneath your feet. There are several different dirt roads through the forest. Just take one or two or three and explore.
Whether you’re an outdoor enthusiast, a photographer, a nature lover, or someone who just wants to see something genuinely unique, Pando is worth the trip. More importantly, it’s a place that reminds you of resilience. If you visit, please treat it carefully. Respect the fences, follow the signs, and never carve into the bark. Pando has survived thousands of years. With our help, it can survive thousands more.
LOCATION The main section of Pando is along Highway 25 just outside of the small towns of Loa and Koosharem. I think most people access Highway 25 from Highway 24, which is the main highway between Richfield and Loa. Beautiful views along this highway. Just make sure you have plenty of gas. There is a small gas station in Koosharem, but that's about it.
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