Land of the little giants: Wild-dillys. Blollys. And champion trees you can wrap your hand around. Welcome to Key Largo, where less is more

American Forests, Spring, 2002 by Whit Bronaugh

To a temperate naturalist in search of big trees, the tropical forest of Key Largo Hammocks Botanical State Park did not look promising. In fact, with short, spindly trees and a canopy that tops out at about 40 feet, it looked more like a thicket than a forest of champions. Yet, according to the National Register of Big Trees, Key Largo is a hotspot for champion trees.

The Florida Keys have more species of native trees-about 110-than any other location north of Mexico. Since most of these trees can survive only in the Florida Keys and nearby mainland, tiny Key Largo has relatively little competition, which translates to an astounding 20 national champions. In fact, only 11 states have more title holders than this area, which covers less than 30 square miles! As one who has logged thousands of miles in pursuit of the biggest trees, I felt this was something I had to see.

Fortunately, I decided to visit in February, when the chances of becoming addlebrained from the heat, anemic from the mosquito horde, or battered by a hurricane were mercifully low. Unfortunately, I didn't know a stopper from a strongback, much less a wild-dilly, myrtle-of-the-river, gumbo-limbo, blolly, or any of a host of equally strangely named trees. Also, even if I correctly matched a tree to a description and name in my field guide, I wouldn't know whether that particular specimen had champion potential or not. Fortunately, I knew someone who would.

Joseph Nemec, a park ranger at Key Largo Hammocks Botanical State Park, grew up about 5,300 miles from Key Largo, in Czechoslovakia, but he knows the native flora as well as any degree-laden botanist. After learning of AMERICAN FORESTS' Big Tree program a few years ago, he quickly located 14 new champions, all within the boundaries of his park and the adjacent Crocodile Lake National Wildlife Refuge. This combined area has the largest tracts of subtropical West Indian hardwood hammock in the United States.

"This is my park here," said Nemec as we drove into the northern section. "No people, more trees."

Nemec parked his truck and led the way into the thickety jungle, holding a stick to catch spider webs, and warning me not to touch the Florida poisontree and mind the curved spines of the devil's claw vine. Soon we emerged from the hammock and followed its edge until Nemec stopped and pointed out what I took to be a large sapling. Standing next to it, he was eye level with the trunk's halfway point, and his hand easily encircled the tree's girth.

"This is a Florida crossopetalum," he said. "The national champion." Right, I thought, but I could see from the pride on his face that it was no joke. An ultra-featherweight at 17 points, the Florida crossopetalum is the smallest champ on Key Largo, as well as the smallest one in the entire 2002 National Register of Big Trees. In fact, it wins every smallest-of-the-biggest category with an 11-foot height, 3-foot crown, and 5-inch girth.

In the arena of champion trees, of course, Florida crossopetalums don't compete with sequoias or any other tree that is not a Florida crossopetalum. Relative bigness is especially relevant on Key Largo, where the average Big Tree is 29 feet tall with an 8-inch diameter, 14-foot crown spread, and a score of only 58 points.

Nemec showed me six other champs that weigh in under 40 points: hopbush, tallowwood, boxleaf stopper, myrtle-of-the-river, roughleaf velvetseed, and graytwig. Every time Nemec showed me a point-challenged champion, I found it hard to get enthusiastic--until he pointed to a specimen half as big and said, "Usually they are that size."

The relatively small stature of Key Largo champion trees may actually have less to do with their true growth potential than with other factors. All reside at the northern limit of their species distribution, which means growing conditions are less than optimal. Every few years they get pummeled by hurricanes. Freezing weather, though rare, can have a big impact. The hammocks of Key Largo, built on relatively young limestone deposits, have very thin, rocky soils. And no place on the island has been free from major human disturbance in recent times.

Not far from the biggest crossopetalum, Nemec showed me an impressive West Indian mahogany. It and the 278-point champion mahogany in Key West are more representative of the Florida Keys' precolonial forests than are the younger trees of today. Mahogany and other trees valued for their wood were the first to be cut, and in the early 1800s settlers cleared and burned parts of the hammocks for agriculture.

The most devastating impact came from cutting trees for firewood and charcoal. Today, most of the Keys' remaining tropical hardwood hammocks are privately owned and therefore threatened by development. Fortunately, Key Largo's protected hammocks are on their way back. While Nemec's champions are big now compared to their peers, they may have many years of growth yet to come.

Most of the Key Largo champs are not yet big enough to hide behind, but there are a few that are well above the you've-got-to-be-kidding size. The biggest is the longleaf blolly, which checks in at 103 points with a girth of more than 5 feet.