Taiwan's Forest Ecosystems

30-Second Overview: Within a horizontal distance of just 200 kilometers, Taiwan rises from sea level to 3,952 meters, creating a complete forest spectrum ranging from the tropics to the subarctic. A forest coverage rate of 60.92%—double the global average—means this island condenses almost every forest type on Earth. From the salt-resistant Casuarina on the coast to the ancient Hinoki in the cloud forests, and finally to the Juniperus chamaecyparis var. formosana (Yushan round cypress) at 3,600 meters, this is the richest ecological journey over the shortest possible distance.

A Counterintuitive Fact

Taiwan is one of the islands with the highest forest density in the world, but it is simultaneously one of the most fragile.

2.186 million hectares of forest, a 60.92% coverage rate, and 460 million cubic meters of standing volume: these figures place Taiwan 26th in global forest rankings, with a coverage rate double the global average of 30.3%. However, nearly all of this forest is squeezed onto vertical mountain slopes, enduring annual tests of typhoons, earthquakes, and torrential rains, alongside the long-term threat of climate change.

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

From Coast to Sky: A 200-Kilometer Spatiotemporal Journey

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

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

The journey begins at the wave-beaten shoreline. It looks barren here—sand, gravel, salt spray, and strong winds—but look closely, and you will find a small vanguard legion.

The needle-like leaves of the Casuarina (wood tamarisk) sway in the sea breeze; these are not true leaves but rather reduced, needle-like twigs that minimize damage from salt. The Pittosporum (sea bamboo) uses aerial roots to grip the loose sand firmly, while the waxy surfaces of Aglaia (sea lemon) reflect the sunlight. These plants lack spectacular stature, yet they serve as the first line of defense protecting the interior.

In the Hengchun Peninsula, you can still find the last remnants of Taiwan's tropical forests—maoshi (Emblic), dayeshanlan (large-leaf Chinese olive), and xiangyushu (ivory tree). They are survivors of the Ice Age; when the entire Northern Hemisphere was frozen, the southernmost tip of this island became a final refuge for tropical plants.

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

Leaving the coast and entering the low-altitude hills, a spicy aroma begins to permeate the air. This is the scent of camphor—a scent that once made Taiwan world-famous.

From the late 19th to the early 20th century, Taiwan accounted for 70% of the world's camphor production. After the Japanese arrived, they engaged in large-scale extraction of this "green gold." Camphor was a key raw material for both celluloid (early plastic) and smokeless gunpowder. A single thousand-year-old camphor tree could yield dozens of kilograms of camphor, enough to make a family wealthy.

Today, original camphor forests are rare. Most of what you see are secondary forests—forests that have regrown after being logged during the Japanese colonial period. But if you smell carefully, the fragrance remains. The smooth bark of the jiuqiu (nine-temple tree) is so slick even monkeys struggle to climb it; red flowers of bougainvillea dot the woods; and the umbrella-like fronds of tree ferns serve as a reminder that this was once a forest resembling the dinosaur era.

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

Moving higher, temperatures begin to drop, and the protagonists of the forest shift to the Fagaceae family. Qinggangli (green oak), senshi-li (Morrison oak), changwei-jianye-li (long-tailed pointed leaf oak)—these names may be unfamiliar to most, but you have certainly seen their fruit: acorns.

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

In this elevation band, you begin to encounter true giants. Morrison oaks can grow to 30 meters tall with a diameter at breast height (DBH) exceeding 2 meters. Their lifespans can reach 500 years, witnessing the migrations 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 zone.

This is the home of the Hinoki (cypress). The Red Cypress (Chamaecyparis formosensis) and Taiwan Yellow Cypress (Chamaecyparis taiwanensis), the only two species of Hinoki endemic to Taiwan, have found their perfect survival environment at this altitude. With annual rainfall of 3,000–5,000 mm and relative humidity consistently above 80%, the clouds almost never disperse.

Why Hinoki? Why here?

The answer lies in the water molecules. The clouds bring more than just moisture; more importantly, they bring nutrients. Dust, pollen, and trace elements floating in the mist are absorbed directly by the leaves. This "fog fertilization" allows the Hinoki to grow into giants on barren ridges.

A 2,000-year-old Red Cypress can reach a DBH of 12 meters. Standing before it, you would need 20 people holding hands to encircle it. Its age spans human civilization—it was germinating before the birth of Jesus; by the time Han settlers arrived in Taiwan, it had already lived for 1,600 years.

💡 Did You Know?
Why do Hinoki trees live so long? The secret lies in their "hinokitiol." This natural chemical compound has powerful antibacterial and insect-repelling effects, ensuring the wood does not rot even after death. In Simakusu (Sima Kus), there is a fallen 1,000-year-old Red Cypress that has been on the ground for 300 years, yet its wood remains as hard as new.

In Qilan Mountain, you can see Taiwan's most complete primary Hinoki forest. It contains the largest natural pure stand of Taiwan Yellow Cypress in the country and was recommended by the Council for Cultural Heritage as a potential World Heritage site in 2003. Walking through it, you understand what is meant by "divine trees"—not out of superstition, but out of awe. These trees have survived Ice Ages, volcanic eruptions, and massive earthquakes; they are living fossils of Earth's history.

But the story of Hinoki is also the most painful memory of Taiwan's forests.

The Japanese Logging Catastrophe: The Vanished Cloud Forests

In 1912, the Alishan Forest Farm began operations. The Alishan Forest Railway was not built for tourism, but to transport thousand-year-old Hinoki down the mountain. The zigzagging tracks, the small locomotives, and the wooden stations—today's tourist attractions—were all originally born for the sake of cypress.

Over 33 years, the Japanese logged 9,773 hectares of forest in Alishan, transporting 3.47 million cubic meters of Hinoki. This timber built shrines and palaces in Japan and even crossed oceans to support Japanese military expansion. Taipingshan, Baxianshan, and Alishan were collectively known as "Taiwan's Three Great Forest Farms."

When a thousand-year-old giant falls, the sound can be heard 5 kilometers away.

Loggers at the time said that whenever a large Hinoki fell, the entire valley would echo with a thunderous roar, sending wildlife scattering in terror, as if the mountain gods were weeping. Indigenous peoples felt this loss deeply—the sacred trees they had worshipped for generations were being turned into timber, one by one, to build the homes of invaders.

In the early post-war period, the Nationalist government took over the forest farms, and logging continued. It was not until 1991 that the government officially announced a "total ban on natural forest logging," ending nearly a century of large-scale extraction. However, more than 95% of Taiwan's primary Hinoki forests have already disappeared.

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

Leaving the realm of Hinoki and climbing higher, you enter Taiwan's boreal zone. This is the domain of the Tsuga and Fir.

Taiwan Hemlock (Tsuga chinensis var. formosana) looks like a Christmas tree, but the environment it endures is far harsher than that of Northern European Christmas trees. At altitudes above 2,500 meters, winter temperatures can drop to -10°C, accompanied by constant strong winds and intense UV radiation. Trees must complete a year's growth in a brief summer and conserve energy through long winters.

Taiwan Fir (Abies kawakamii) is the king of this forest belt. They form vast pure stands that look 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 snapping under the weight.

In Xueshan (Snow Mountain), Hehuanshan, and Yushan, you can witness the spectacular sight of Taiwan Fir forests. Especially in the early morning after the mist clears, sunlight hits these dark green spires, making the entire forest shimmer with a metallic luster. This is the landscape closest to Northern European forests, yet it sits on a subtropical island at 23.5°N.

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

Above 3,600 meters, true forests end, but there remains one last guardian—the Yushan round cypress (Juniperus chamaecyparis var. formosana).

These trees no longer strive for height and loftiness; instead, they creep along the ground, forming a green carpet. Fierce winds cannot topple them because they stay lower than the wind; frost and snow cannot kill them because their cellular fluids contain natural antifreeze; and the scorching sun cannot dry them out because their waxy needles reflect the intense light.

Standing near the summit of Yushan and looking down at the Yushan round cypress forest, you will notice a strange phenomenon: these seemingly small shrubs may actually be older than the large trees below. A Yushan round cypress that appears only half a meter tall might have lived for 500 years. They are the sentinels of the treeline, marking the absolute limit of woody plant survival.

Taiwan Cypress: The Last Refuge of Earth's Oldest Species

In this vertical journey, one species deserves special mention: the Taiwan Cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa).

The Taiwan Cypress is one of the oldest coniferous species on Earth, widely distributed across the Northern Hemisphere as far back as the Tertiary period. During the Cretaceous period, dinosaurs walked through Taiwan Cypress forests. But when the Ice Age arrived, almost all Taiwan Cypress in the Northern Hemisphere disappeared, surviving only in a few refuges in Taiwan and southwestern China.

It is the only plant genus named after Taiwan; it consists of a single species, making it a fellow Tertiary relict alongside the Wollemi Pine and the Metasequoia—a true living fossil. The Taiwan Cypress had already taken root on this island during the Ice Age, between 50,000 and 35,000 years ago.

Today, a small patch of Taiwan Cypress forest exists in the Da'an River basin. Among them, the famous "Three Sisters of Taiwan Cypress" stand 80 meters tall, making them the tallest trees in Taiwan. These living fossils have witnessed 65 million years of Earth's changes; they are older than human civilization and more ancient than the uplift of the Himalayas.

⚠️ Controversial Viewpoint
There are differing opinions regarding the conservation of Taiwan Cypress. Conservationists argue for strict protection, prohibiting all human interference; however, some scholars advocate for moderate scientific research and educational access to allow more people to recognize this precious species. Balancing conservation with education is a long-term challenge facing Taiwan's forests.

The Climate Change Crisis in Cloud Forests

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

According to research from National Taiwan University's Department of Forestry, temperatures in Taiwan are projected to rise by 2–4°C over the next 50 years, which will cause forest distribution zones to shift significantly upward. The latest computer simulations show: Spruce forests will shrink by 77–82%, facing near-extinction; Hinoki forests will decrease by 52–54%, with their range shrinking drastically; and low-altitude broadleaf forests will expand by 37%, invading higher elevations.

📊 Data Source
These predictions come from the National Taiwan University Department of Forestry research team, published in a special report by The Reporter. The study utilized IPCC climate models and 30 years of forest survey data from Taiwan.

Most concerning is the future of alpine plants. They already live at the summits; there is nowhere higher for them to migrate. High-altitude species like the Yushan round cypress and Taiwan Fir may face a "nowhere to retreat" dilemma by the end of this century.

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

Even with the total ban on logging, Taiwan's forests still face the threat of illegal extraction.

In 2022, the largest illegal logging case in recent years occurred in Miaoli, where a group of "mountain mice" (illegal loggers) poached over 60,000 kg of precious timber. In 2023, another group in Le'yi Township, Pingtung, conspired with a biotech company to illegally harvest Niuzhang (Taiwan camphor tree) wood, generating illegal profits exceeding NT$400,000.

Why do people still risk illegal logging?

The answer lies in the massive profit margins. A burl from a Hinoki tree might only be worth tens of thousands of New Taiwan dollars on the mountain, but after carving and processing, its market price can soar to millions. Even though the 2015 amendment to the Forest Act allows for sentences of up to 10 years and 6 months and fines of up to NT$20 million for poaching precious species, the temptation of extreme profits still drives people to take risks.

Even more heartbreaking is that these illegal activities often target the rarest species. Because the Niuzhang tree is the host for Niuzhangzhi (a medicinal fungus), it has been heavily poached and is now extremely rare in the wild. Some thousand-year-old Red Cypresses have had their burls "peeled" by loggers; while the trees may not die, they are left with permanent scars.

Indigenous Forest Wisdom

When discussing Taiwan's forests, we cannot overlook the contributions of Indigenous peoples.

The Atayal people use gaga (communal norms) to protect sacred Hinoki trees; the Tsou people establish no-logging zones to maintain ecological balance; and the Paiwan people have developed a sophisticated woodcarving culture. This traditional ecological knowledge often understands the mysteries of the forest more deeply than modern science.

The conservation of Hinoki in Simakusu is the best example.

After discovering these giant tree groves, this Atayal village chose not to log and sell them, but instead developed ecotourism, making the giant trees the economic pillar of the community. Today, Simakusu is known as "God's Village," attracting tens of thousands of tourists annually to witness the thousand-year-old Hinoki.

There is a significant difference between Indigenous views on forests and modern conservation concepts: they do not believe that "protection" means "never touching." Moderate gathering, rotational harvesting, and forest management are all ways of maintaining forest health in their traditions. This wisdom of "coexisting with the forest" is being re-emphasized by modern conservation science.

The Future of Forests: Challenges and Hope

The story of Taiwan's forests is a story of loss and rebirth.

We have lost 95% of our primary Hinoki 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 use education to help more people understand the value of forests.

Today's Taiwan forests are writing a new chapter. Reforestation projects are underway; the Forestry and Nature Conservation Agency promotes "forest restoration" by planting native species in appropriate locations. Technology is aiding protection—satellite monitoring, drone patrols, and AI recognition systems allow forest rangers to monitor forest conditions more effectively. A younger generation is awakening, with more Taiwanese youth dedicating themselves to forest conservation through new mediums like VR, podcasts, and social media.

The End and Beginning of a Journey

From the Casuarina at sea level to the round cypress on the summit of Yushan, we have completed this 200-kilometer vertical journey. In just 15 minutes of reading, you have experienced the most concentrated ecological diversity on Earth.

The story of Taiwan's forests tells us: Natural richness and fragility often coexist. A 60.92% forest coverage rate makes this island lush and green, but the threat of climate change fills the future with uncertainty. The grandeur of thousand-year-old Hinoki inspires awe, yet they nearly vanished amidst the sound of chainsaws.

Every tree is a history book, recording Earth's changes, human footprints, and the tenacity of life. Next time you wander through Taiwan's forests, remember that you are walking on one of the most spectacular natural stages on Earth. This is a museum of biological evolution, a frontline of climate change, and a testing ground for the relationship between humans and nature.

Protecting Taiwan's forests is protecting a microcosm of Earth's biodiversity. On this 36,000 square kilometer island, our imagination and responsibility for the future of Earth are concentrated.