I almost feel sorry for the rest of the trees in the forest: white firs, sugar pines with cones the size of loaves, fragrant incense cedars. Magnificent performers though they are, no one looks at them. No one photographs them, except as green backdrops for the kings of this sylvan court. And that, I suppose, is as it should be. After all, Sequoia National Park is named after the arboreal behemoths that grow here—and only here––between five and seven thousand feet on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California. Provincial though the giant sequoias may be, these monarchs command a retinue of reverential visitors from around the world. Amongst the babbling brooks, I heard the babel of French, German, Japanese and some decidedly British- sounding English.

You might want to bring a thesaurus when you come to contiguous Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks so you can find synonyms for the word big: you’ll use it a lot. From the highest peak in the lower 48—Mt. Whitney, at 14,491 feet—to 8,000 foot deep Kings Canyon, to the giant sequoias these parks boast some of the biggest, grandest, largest, most immense, prodigious natural phenomena in the world.

Giant sequoias are not the tallest trees in the world: they are topped by the slenderer coast redwoods of northern California. The Árbol del Tule, a Montezuma Cypress in Oaxaca, Mexico, has a greater girth. However, for sheer volume, no other creature, plant or animal approaches them. Three of the largest are right here in the park, two a short walk from parking lots: the General Sherman weighs in as the world’s biggest tree. Still growing, it produces enough new wood each year to equal a lesser tree 60 feet tall. The General Grant tree has two honors: President Calvin Coolidge named it the Nation’s Christmas Tree in 1926 and in 1956 President Dwight D. Eisenhower proclaimed it a national shrine to all the men and women who gave their lives in the service of their country.

The sequoias’ size is so great that it prompts giddiness in the minds of those who try to describe them. Listen to these comparisons that I found on a plaque in the General Grant Tree grove. If the General Grant Tree was the gas tank of a car that got 25 miles per gallon you could drive around the earth 350 times without refueling. If the trunk of the General Grant tree could be filled with sports equipment it could hold 159,000 basketballs, or more than 37 million ping-pong balls. Wait a minute! What about hockey pucks for our northern neighbors, or soccer balls for the rest of the world? I myself succumbed to the temptation, telling a friend that the sequoias were the blue whales of the plant kingdom. (The occasional fallen giant does seem like the bleached skeleton of a beached cetacean.) Fool that I was! During my visit to the fascinating Giant Forest Museum I was informed that it would take ten of those minnows to equal the weight of just the trunk of the General Sherman Tree! Ironically, these forest leviathans start from seeds the size of an oat flake.

All facts and folly fade, however, before the feeling of actually approaching one of these cinnamon-barked beauties. Take a cue from John Muir, who wrote that, “one naturally walked softly and awestricken among them.” After all, they are our elders. Sequoias can live for thousands of years through drought and fire, and resist the onslaught of fungus and bugs. They might as well have been called Super Trees, because only two things can kill them: toppling by wind or a saw. Fortunately, the latter cause became a menace of the past when the park was formed in 1890.

Sequoia is a popular park in a populous state, so reserve a site before coming. RVs are welcome, though you’ll want to drive in via Highway 180 from Fresno, not 198 from Visalia, because vehicles longer than 22 feet are not advised on an extremely curvy section of this road between Potwisha and the Giant Forest Museum. (You can reach this museum, and the Giant Forest walk, by coming from the north on the General’s Highway.) Likewise, lengthy vehicles are not recommended on the road to Crystal Cave, though there is an accessible alternative, Boyden Cave, in Kings Canyon should you desire to complement the vertical wonders above ground with the macabre marvels beneath.

Here’s something to bear in mind once you’ve secured your site—bears. Sequoia abounds in black bears. They are smart, strong, hungry and they’ve heard good things about human food. The idea is to keep them eating bear food, so the park has provided strong boxes with diabolically clever handles (nearly too difficult for humans) to store coolers and other victual containers. I camped on this trip and, during dinner, heard a telltale rattling just outside of the circle of my light. When I turned the flashlight on my omnivorous interloper (a young bear of not more than 150 pounds) she scurried away with the look of someone who has knocked on the door of a promising restaurant, only to find it closed. Alas, it was berries for that bear. Talk to a ranger about the best way to store your food, even within your vehicle (for instance, don’t leave food out on counters) and your stay will be quite bearable.

If possible, bring a second vehicle because these two parks are––you guessed it––big and driving is part of the fun. (Gas and diesel are sold in adjacent national forests.) Spur roads off of the General’s Highway take you to overlooks, visitors centers, restaurants (at Lodgepole, Grant Grove and Wuksachi Lodge) and sights worth discovering. If you like short walks, take the stroll through the General Grant Grove and the quarter mile descent to the General Sherman Tree. A bit of a drive and a short jaunt through the forest will take you to Moro Rock for a panoramic overlook of the mountainous back country. Stop by Hume Lake for a splendid high country picnic––do remember that you are usually between 5,000 and 7,000 feet here, so drink plenty of water and wear sunscreen and a hat. If you’re a waterfall nut like me and like a little longer walk—about a mile—take the beautiful trail along the Kaweah River to Tokopah Falls.

The Kings Canyon Scenic Byway is a must-drive. Give yourself at least half a day to do this trip. If you’re an incurable shutterbug, make that a delightfully full day. I found myself stopping about every eighth of a mile––turnouts abound––to click in the scenery of wild rivers and peaks. Start at the Kings Canyon Visitor Center at Grant Grove to gain an increased appreciation of the canyon you’re about to plunge into. You can drive out to a panoramic viewpoint from there, but you will get plenty of these wending your winding way down into the canyon. At the entrance to the canyon proper is the ultra-rustic, historic Kings Canyon Lodge where you can stop for lunch or a cool drink. From there on you’ll descend quickly to the level of the Kings River, a roiling rushing gush of water so white it was hard to tell if there was anything but foam. (Signs along the river warn you about taking a dip, as if that was necessary!) The mountains gradually steepen as you proceed, thrusting their granite heads into the clouds. While your eyes are aloft, keep a look out for golden and bald eagles, peregrine falcons, swifts and swallows. Boyden Cave makes a

The sequoias’ size is so great that it prompts giddiness in the minds of those who try to describe them.

convenient stop at about the halfway point. The cave is small, but highly decorated, and the tour is a short 45 minutes. I declined, having recently visited Carlsbad Caverns, but I did have a cool ice cream cone. I happened to hit California during a record heat wave and the temperature in the canyon was an abnormal 95 degrees. So it was that the growling of thunder above Grizzly Falls, a little further on, was a welcome sound indeed. These are some of the most exquisitely formed falls I’ve seen and right off the road. By the time I got to Roaring River Falls (I told you, I can’t pass a waterfall!) big, splotchy drops of rain plopped on my windshield and lower clouds hugged the heights. I was coming to road’s end––from here on in it’s all backpacking into the rugged country of the high Sierras.

Stop here and take a brief walk to the river (finally calmed down) to find a large flat rock that John Muir once stood on to deliver impassioned talks on protecting such treasures as Kings Canyon—he found the canyon the equal of better known Yosemite. Then take a look around, craning your neck to see the summit of Grand Sentinel at 8,518 feet––you’re surrounded by cathedral-like domes here. I gave a silent thanks for the visionaries who defended this wonder of the world—without them I would have been scuba diving at the bottom of a reservoir. On the way back, at Canyon View, I set my camera on the tripod and pointed it into the canyon. To the west the clouds were clearing and I waited for the light of the lowering sun to awaken the peaks. I was awhile waiting, but I could not think of a place on earth I would rather have been. Towering silver granite

The Kings Canyon Scenic Byway is a must-drive. I found myself stopping about every eighth of a mile—turnouts abound—to click in the scenery of wild rivers and peaks.

is the great beauty of the Sierra Nevada to me. Perhaps that’s because I grew up camping around Lake Tahoe, fishing and hiking among the wild, boulder-strewn streams that cascade from the gray peaks high above tree line, but I don’t believe you can come here and not find a home in your heart for this “Range of Light”—as Ansel Adams called the Sierras. They rank high not only in height, but in area as well––at 60 miles wide by 400 miles long, they are larger than the entire system of the Alps. Walk here, following in the footsteps of conservationist giants like John Muir, stare up at the sheer sides of vaulting towers of luminous rock, gauge your human size against that of a giant sequoia and I feel certain that you’ll say with me, “Long live the Kings.”