Taiwan's Forest Ecosystems

30-Second Overview: Within a horizontal distance of 200 kilometers, Taiwan rises from sea level to 3,952 meters, creating a complete forest spectrum from the tropics to the subarctic. With a forest coverage rate of 60.92%—twice the global average of 30.3%—this island condenses almost every forest type on Earth. From the salt-tolerant casuarina along the coast to the millennium-old red cypresses in the cloud forest, and finally to the Formosan juniper at 3,600 meters, this is the most ecologically rich journey possible in the shortest distance.

An Counter-Intuitive Fact

Taiwan is one of the most densely forested islands in the world, yet simultaneously one of the most fragile.

With 2.186 million hectares of forest, a 60.92% coverage rate, and a timber volume of 460 million cubic meters, Taiwan ranks 26th in global forest rankings. Its coverage rate is double the global average of 30.3%. However, this forest is almost entirely squeezed onto steep vertical slopes, enduring annual tests from typhoons, earthquakes, and torrential rains, as well as the long-term threat of climate change.

📝 Curator’s Note
Many people do not know that Taiwan’s forest coverage rate is higher than that of Germany (32%), France (31%), and even exceeds Norway (38%), a country famous for its forests. But Taiwan’s forests grow almost entirely on slopes steeper than 30 degrees—a "vertical forest" that is rare worldwide.

From Coast to Sky: A 200-Kilometer Journey Through Time and Space

Standing at the Port of Keelung and looking south, the main peak of Yushan (Jade Mountain) is 200 kilometers away. This distance is equivalent to that between Taipei and Hsinchu, but the elevation rises from 0 to 3,952 meters. If you could teleport through this vertical sequence, you would experience a complete climatic belt from the subtropics to the subarctic.

First Stop: The Vanguard in the Salt Spray (0–100 Meters)

The journey begins where waves crash against the shore. It looks barren—gravel, salt spray, and strong winds—but look closely, and you will find a small vanguard.

The needle-like leaves of the casuarina sway in the sea breeze; these are not true leaves but branches reduced to needle-like forms to minimize salt damage. The pandanus uses aerial roots to firmly grip the loose sand, while the wax-covered leaves of the Pittosporum reflect the sunlight. These plants may lack imposing stature, but they serve as the first line of defense protecting the inland.

In the Hengchun Peninsula, you can still find the last remnants of Taiwan’s tropical forest: Diospyros morrisiana (Chinese persimmon), Ficus hirta (large-leaf fig), and Elaeocarpus decipiens (ivory tree). They are survivors of the Ice Age; when the entire Northern Hemisphere was frozen, the southernmost tip of this island became the last refuge for tropical plants.

Second Stop: The Kingdom of Camphor Aroma (100–500 Meters)

Leaving the coast and entering the low-elevation hills, the air begins to fill with a spicy fragrance. This is the scent of the camphor tree—the scent that once made Taiwan world-famous.

From the late 19th century to the early 20th century, Taiwan’s camphor production accounted for 70% of the global output. When the Japanese arrived, they exploited these "green gold" resources on a massive scale. Camphor was a key raw material for celluloid (early plastic) and smokeless powder. A single millennium-old camphor tree could yield dozens of kilograms of camphor, enough to enrich a family.

Today, original camphor-nanmu forests are rare. What you see are mostly secondary forests—forests that regrew after being logged during the Japanese colonial period. But if you smell carefully, that fragrance remains. The smooth bark of the Cinnamomum kotoense (nine-bark) is so slippery that even monkeys cannot climb it; the red flowers of the bougainvillea dot the forest; the fern leaves of the Cyathea spread out like umbrellas, reminding you that this was once a forest of the dinosaur era.

Third Stop: The Abundant Table of the Oak Forest (500–1,800 Meters)

As you go higher, the temperature drops, and the protagonists of the forest shift to Fagaceae (oak) species. Cyclobalanopsis glauca (green oak), Lithocarpus fuscus (Sen’s oak), and Lithocarpus glaber (long-tailed leaf oak)—these names may be unfamiliar to most, but you have certainly seen their fruits: acorns.

This is the dining hall for Taiwan’s wildlife. In autumn, acorns fall from the trees, and Formosan black bears, Formosan macaques, and wild boars come to feast, storing fat for the winter. The biodiversity of oak forests is extremely rich; a single century-old oak tree can support hundreds of species of insects, birds, and small mammals.

At this elevation, you begin to encounter true giant trees. Lithocarpus fuscus can grow up to 30 meters tall with a breast diameter exceeding 2 meters. Their lifespan can reach 500 years, witnessing the migration of indigenous tribes, the reclamation by Han settlers, Japanese rule, and the birth of modern Taiwan.

Fourth Stop: The Realm of Kings in the Clouds (1,800–2,500 Meters)

Then, you enter the sanctuary of Taiwan’s forests—the cloud forest.

This is the home of the cypress. The Formosan red cypress (Chamaecyparis formosensis) and the Taiwan flat cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa var. formosana), the only two Taiwan-endemic cypress species on Earth, find their perfect survival environment at this elevation. With annual rainfall of 3,000–5,000 millimeters and relative humidity consistently above 80%, the clouds rarely dissipate.

Why cypress? Why here?

The answer lies in water molecules. Clouds bring not only moisture but also nutrients. Dust, pollen, and trace elements floating in the clouds are absorbed directly by the leaves. This "fog fertilization" allows cypresses to grow into giants on barren ridges.

A 2,000-year-old Formosan red cypress can have a breast diameter of up to 12 meters. Standing before it, you would need 20 people holding hands to circle it. Its age spans the entire history of human civilization—when it sprouted, Jesus had not yet been born; when Han people first arrived in Taiwan, it had already lived for 1,600 years.

💡 Did You Know?
Why are cypresses so long-lived? The secret lies in "hinokitiol." This natural chemical substance has powerful antibacterial and insect-repellent effects, allowing cypress wood to remain unrotted even after death. In Sima Kusu (Simaqusi), there is a millennium-old fallen red cypress that has lain on the ground for 300 years, its wood still hard as new.

In Qilan Mountain, you can see Taiwan’s most complete original cypress forest. It contains the largest natural pure stand of Taiwan flat cypress in the country, recommended by the Council of Cultural Affairs in 2003 as a potential World Heritage site. Walking through it, you will understand what "divine tree" means—not due to superstition, but due to awe. These trees have survived the Ice Age, volcanic eruptions, and great earthquakes; they are living fossils of Earth’s history.

But the story of cypress is also Taiwan’s forest’s most painful memory.

The Japanese Logging Catastrophe: The Vanishing Cloud Forest

In 1912, the Alishan Forest Railway began operations. The Alishan Railway was not built for tourism but to transport millennium-old cypresses down the mountain. The zigzag tracks, the one-eyed steam locomotives, and the wooden stations—these tourist attractions today were originally born for cypress logging.

Over 33 years, the Japanese logged 9,773 hectares of forest in Alishan, transporting 3.47 million cubic meters of cypress wood. This timber built Japanese shrines and palaces, and even crossed the ocean to support Japan’s military expansion. Pingshan, Baishan, and Alishan were known as "Taiwan’s Three Major Forest Reserves."

When a millennium giant falls, the sound can be heard 5 kilometers away.

Loggers at the time said that whenever a large cypress fell, the entire valley would echo with a thunderous roar, and wildlife would scatter in panic, as if the mountain god were weeping. Indigenous peoples were heartbroken—their sacred trees, worshipped for generations, were turned into timber and transported down to build the invaders’ houses.

In the early post-war period, the Nationalist government took over the forest reserves, and logging continued. It was not until 1991 that the government officially announced a "total ban on logging natural forests," ending nearly a century of large-scale logging. But Taiwan’s original cypress forests had already lost more than 95%.

Fifth Stop: The Extreme Challenge of the Boreal Coniferous Forest (2,500–3,600 Meters)

Leaving the realm of cypress and continuing upward, you enter Taiwan’s boreal zone. This is the domain of hemlock and fir.

The Formosan hemlock looks like a Christmas tree, but the environment it endures is far harsher than that of Nordic Christmas trees. At elevations over 2,500 meters, winter temperatures can drop to minus 10 degrees Celsius, with constant strong winds and intense UV radiation. Trees must complete a year’s growth in the short summer and conserve energy during the long winter.

The Formosan fir is the king of this forest belt. It forms large pure stands, looking like a dark green ocean from a distance. Each tree maintains a perfect conical shape, not for aesthetics, but to allow snow to slide off easily, preventing branches from breaking.

In Xueshan, Hehuan Mountain, and Yushan, you can witness the spectacular sight of Formosan fir forests. Especially in the mornings after the fog clears, sunlight spills on these dark green spires, making the entire forest shine with a metallic luster. This is Taiwan’s most Nordic-like forest landscape, yet it is located on a subtropical island at 23.5 degrees north latitude.

Final Stop: The Last Guardians of the City in the Sky (Above 3,600 Meters)

Above 3,600 meters, the true forest ends, but there are still last guardians—the Formosan juniper.

These trees no longer strive for height; instead, they creep along the ground, forming a green carpet. Strong winds cannot blow them down because they are lower than the wind; frost and snow cannot freeze them because their cell sap contains natural antifreeze agents; scorching sun cannot dry them out because their waxy needles reflect strong light.

Standing near the main peak of Yushan, looking down at the Formosan juniper forest below, you will discover a wondrous phenomenon: these seemingly dwarf shrubs may actually be older than the large trees in the valleys. A Formosan juniper that appears to be only half a meter tall may have lived for 500 years. They are the sentinels of the forest boundary, marking the limit of woody plant survival.

Taiwan Cedar: The Last Refuge of the World’s Oldest Tree Species

In this vertical journey, one species deserves special mention: the Taiwan cedar (Cunninghamia konishii).

Taiwan cedar is one of the oldest coniferous species on Earth, widely distributed in the Northern Hemisphere since the Tertiary Period. During the Cretaceous Period, dinosaurs strolled through Taiwan cedar forests. But when the Ice Age arrived, Taiwan cedars in the Northern Hemisphere almost completely disappeared, surviving only in a few refuges in Taiwan and southwestern China.

It is the only plant with "Taiwan" as its genus name, existing as a single genus and species, alongside the giant sequoia and the dawn redwood as Tertiary relicts—true living fossils. As early as 50,000 to 35,000 years ago during the Ice Age, Taiwan cedars had already taken root on this island.

Today, a small patch of Taiwan cedar forest exists in the Daxi River basin in central Taiwan. The famous "Three Sisters of Taiwan Cedar" stand 80 meters tall, making them Taiwan’s tallest giant trees. These living fossils have witnessed 65 million years of Earth’s changes; they are older than human civilization and older than the uplift of the Himalayas.

⚠️ Controversial Viewpoint
Regarding the conservation of Taiwan cedar, opinions differ. Conservationists argue for strict protection and prohibiting all human interference; some scholars advocate for moderate scientific research and educational access to help more people understand this precious species. Balancing conservation and education is a long-term challenge for Taiwan’s forests.

The Climate Change Crisis of Cloud Forests

The greatest threat to Taiwan’s forests is not logging, but climate change.

According to research from the Department of Forestry and Nature Conservation at National Taiwan University, Taiwan’s temperature will rise by 2–4°C in the next 50 years, causing forest distribution belts to shift significantly upward. The latest computer simulations show: spruce forests will shrink by 77–82%, facing near extinction; cypress forests will decrease by 52–54%, with their distribution range shrinking drastically; low-elevation broadleaf forests will expand by 37%, invading upward.

📊 Data Source
These predictions come from the National Taiwan University Forestry Research Team, published in a special report by The Reporter. The study used IPCC climate models and 30 years of Taiwan’s forest survey data.

The most worrying aspect is the future of alpine plants. They already live at the mountain tops and have nowhere higher to migrate. Alpine species like the Formosan juniper and Formosan fir may face a "nowhere to retreat" dilemma by the end of this century.

The Shadow of Illegal Logging: The Invisible Threat to Modern Forests

Even with a total logging ban today, Taiwan’s forests still face the threat of illegal logging.

In 2022, Miaoli experienced Taiwan’s largest recent logging case, where a group of "mountain rats" illegally harvested over 60,000 kilograms of precious timber. In 2023, Laiyi Township in Pingtung saw a group colluding with biotech companies to illegally harvest Cinnamomum kotoense (牛樟) wood, generating illegal profits exceeding 400,000 NTD.

Why are people still willing to risk illegal logging?

The answer lies in the huge profit disparity. A burl of cypress wood may cost only tens of thousands of NTD as "mountain price," but after carving and processing, the market price can skyrocket to millions. Even after the 2015 amendment to the Forest Act, the heaviest penalty for illegally logging precious tree species is 10 years and 6 months imprisonment, plus a fine of 20 million NTD. Yet, under the temptation of huge profits, some still take the risk.

More heartbreakingly, these illegal loggings often target the most rare species. Cinnamomum kotoense is heavily logged because it is the host for Ganoderma sinense (牛樟芝); it is now extremely rare in the wild. Some millennium-old red cypresses have been "barked" by loggers to extract burls; although the trees survive, they bear permanent scars.

Indigenous Forest Wisdom

When discussing Taiwan’s forests, we cannot ignore the contributions of indigenous peoples.

The Atayal have gaga (common norms) to protect sacred cypress trees; the Tsou designate no-logging zones to maintain ecological balance; the Paiwan developed exquisite woodcarving cultures. These traditional ecological knowledge systems often understand the mysteries of the forest more deeply than modern science.

Sima Kusu’s cypress conservation is the best example.

After discovering the giant tree cluster, this Atayal tribe chose not to log and sell them but developed eco-tourism, making the giant trees the economic pillar of the tribe. Today, Sima Kusu is called the "Tribe of God," attracting tens of thousands of tourists annually to worship the millennium-old cypresses.

There is an important difference between indigenous forest views and modern conservation concepts: they do not believe that "protection" equals "never touching." Moderate harvesting, rotational logging, and forest management are ways to maintain forest health in their traditions. This wisdom of "coexisting with the forest" is being revalued by modern conservation biology.

The Future of the Forest: Challenges and Hope

Taiwan’s forest story is one of loss and rebirth.

We have lost 95% of our original cypress forests, but the remaining 5% are strictly protected. We cannot reverse climate change, but we can establish ecological corridors to help species migrate. We cannot stop all illegal logging, but we can educate more people to understand the value of forests.

Today’s Taiwan forests are writing a new chapter. Restoration plans are underway; the Forestry and Nature Conservation Agency promotes "forest restoration," planting native species in suitable locations. Technology is helping protection: satellite monitoring, drone patrols, and AI recognition systems allow rangers to monitor forest conditions more effectively. The younger generation is awakening; more and more Taiwanese youth are投身ing in forest conservation, using VR, podcasts, and social media to protect the forests.

The End and Beginning of a Journey

From the casuarina at sea level to the juniper at Yushan’s summit, we have completed this 200-kilometer vertical journey. In just 15 minutes of reading, you have experienced the most condensed ecological diversity on Earth.

Taiwan’s forest story tells us: Nature’s richness and fragility often coexist. A 60.92% forest coverage rate makes this island lush, but the threat of climate change makes the future uncertain. The majesty of millennium cypresses inspires awe, yet they once nearly vanished in the sound of chainsaws.

Every tree is a history book, recording Earth’s changes, human footprints, and the resilience of life. Next time you walk in Taiwan’s forests, remember that you are walking on Earth’s most spectacular natural stage. This is a museum of life evolution, a frontline of climate change, and a testing ground for human-nature relationships.

Protecting Taiwan’s forests is protecting a microcosm of Earth’s biodiversity. On this 36,000-square-kilometer island, we condense our imagination and responsibility for Earth’s future.