There’s still time to hunt down your own wild Christmas tree

If, for any of a number of good reasons, you have yet to get a Christmas tree, it’s not too late.

Maybe you’re wrestling with whether to go real or artificial, a topic that’s divided households. The American Christmas Tree Association reports that 83% of homes in the U.S. planning to display a tree this year were going artificial. Another report noted the increased popularity of pink fake trees, among other colors.

While fake trees have improved, nothing matches a real tree.

That settled, let’s review your real tree options: farmed or wild. Having worked at a tree lot in my high school days, I have only love for those sellers. Most of their trees are farmed, though some, like the Christmas Tree Guy (Pike Brant) carry a few wild trees. You can also cut your own farmed tree.

For some of us, nothing beats a tree from one of the national forests in our area. We prefer wild trees for several reasons, especially because they have room for more hanging ornaments.

Usually, Christmas tree -cutting in the Colville National Forest in northeast Washington requires a $5 permit. This year, it’s free. Megan Bush, a spokesperson for the Colville National Forest, said that they wanted to “remove any barrier for families in our communities to find that perfect tree” and spend time in the forest. She also noted that while the mild recent weather means less snow and ice on roads, the wet and unfrozen surfaces still require care and planning.

A permit is still required for the Idaho Panhandle National Forests, which typically issues between 2,500 and 3,000 permits per year. Nationwide, the Forest Service issued more than 312,000 permits in 2024, generating more than $2.9 million in revenue.

Whether it’s free or $5, it’s an incredible deal.

That may convince the innocent that a wild tree is much cheaper than buying a tree.

Oh, were it so.

We’ve been mostly gathering our own trees for many years, and I’d hate to add the costs up. One early example illustrates. We were late in getting a tree, about exactly this time of December. My wife was 81/2 months pregnant with our first child. Still, it seemed like a good idea to head out from the Fernan Lake U.S. Forest Service office with a permit and map and into the hills, during a heavy snowstorm in our 1980 (non-all-wheel-drive) Subaru.

As we drove up the Forest Service road, it was already heavily covered in snow, and visibility was falling in the thick storm. Being one of those “better parking space” guys, I kept driving into the wild.

Before long, even I admitted that it was getting dicey. After a careful five-point turnaround, we headed back, but still slid off the road into a ditch.

This was long before cell phones. We were miles from town, and the snow was dumping. I had no shovel, chains, or other useful accessories (still learning in my early years in the Inland Northwest). I dug with my hands as best I could a pathway back to the road, and as my wife moved the seat all the way back to accommodate the, uh, extra load she was carrying, I pushed with all my might. The tires spun and the car, a manual, repeatedly stalled. Finally, my wife rolled down the window. “Maybe you should give driving it a try. I’ll push.”

I was dubious and a bit concerned about having to help deliver a baby in a snow-filled Idaho ditch. She insisted.

Soon, she pushed us back on the road as I tenderly let out the clutch and gave it some gas.

So far, so good. We thought well, we’re here, might as well get a tree. I was able to convince her to hang out in the car while I post-holed through knee-deep snow across a field and into the woods. Not too long later, we were headed back to Coeur d’Alene with a tree on the roof rack and decided to stop and enjoy a late lunch.

As we parked and walked around the corner, we came face to face with our family doctor, whose first words were “What are you doing here?” Pointing at the pager attached to her side, she continued, “You’re the reason I’m wearing this!”

Did I mention that she’d, just days prior, ordered “bed rest” until delivery, due to some concerns?

The good news is that a week or so later, we were blessed with a healthy 10-pound baby boy, and we all enjoyed the tree.

Despite shaky beginnings, our tree hunting continues. After that year, I carried a shovel, a come-along, ropes, chains and extra clothes. I also got better tires.

Challenges still arise. Several times, we’ve pulled people back onto the road. Were an accountant reviewing this activity, it wouldn’t look good. Between the time, gas, food, auto repairs, occasional medical treatment and marriage counseling, it adds up.

But the memories. Our adult kids recall tramping in the snow, getting cold and wet and warming up with Thermoses of cocoa before heading home with our prized tree.

Whatever your preferred approach – including a small live tree you can plant – don’t let the season pass without a tree. Finding spiders accidentally carried inside or needles still lurking in the carpet months later are merely pleasant reminders of the cheer a real tree brings.