Driving through a redwood tree is one of those quintessential California bucket-list items that feels like it belongs in a grainy 1950s postcard. It's weird. It's a bit tacky. Honestly, it’s a total blast if you’re into roadside Americana. But if you just type "drive-through tree" into your GPS while cruising down Highway 101, you might end up frustrated or stuck in a line behind a dozen Sprinter vans.
There isn't just one. There are three. All of them are privately owned, all are located in Northern California, and none of them are actually inside Redwood National Park. That's a huge misconception. The National Park Service generally frowns upon carving giant holes in 2,000-year-old living organisms for the sake of a Honda Civic. These trees are on private land, preserved—and modified—long before modern conservation standards became the norm.
The Big Three: Where They Are and What Makes Them Different
You've got choices. They aren’t identical.
The Chandelier Drive-Through Tree in Leggett is probably the one you've seen on Instagram. It’s a massive coast redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) standing about 276 feet tall. The hole was carved back in the 1930s. It’s wide. Mostly. If you’re driving a standard SUV, you’ll probably be fine, but I’ve seen people lose side mirrors because they didn't fold them in. It costs about $15 per car. The setting is pretty—there’s a gift shop and a pond nearby where you can stretch your lungs after a long stint on the 101.
Then there’s the Shrine Drive-Through Tree in Myers Flat. This one is unique because the "tunnel" is partially natural. A fire hollowed out a good chunk of the trunk centuries ago, and humans just finished the job. It feels a bit more "authentic" in a rugged way, though that’s a strange word to use for a tree with a road through it. They also have "drive-on" logs and tiny fairy houses built into stumps, which makes it a hit if you have kids who are getting cranky in the backseat.
Finally, you have the Klamath Tour Thru Tree. It’s further north. It’s often less crowded than the Chandelier tree. The carve-out is remarkably clean, almost rectangular. This one was cut in 1976, making it the "newest" of the bunch. Because it’s right off the highway near the mouth of the Klamath River, it’s a convenient pit stop if you’re heading toward the Oregon border.
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Why These Trees Still Exist
You might wonder how this is even legal today. It wouldn't be if you tried to do it now. These trees are "grandfathered" in. Under current environmental protections like the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA), trying to chainsaw a tunnel through a redwood would result in massive fines and probably a few protestors chained to the bark.
But because these were done decades ago, they serve as historical curiosities. The trees are surprisingly resilient. Redwoods have a thick, tannin-rich bark that resists fire, rot, and insects. The sapwood—the outer layer that actually transports water and nutrients—is still intact around the edges of the tunnels. This allows the trees to stay alive, though their structural integrity is obviously compromised. They are essentially living bridges.
The "Will I Fit?" Anxiety
Let’s talk logistics. This is where people get stressed. Most standard cars, crossovers, and small trucks fit through the Chandelier Tree. The opening is roughly 6 feet wide and 6 feet 9 inches tall.
If you’re driving a Ford F-250 with towing mirrors? Forget it. You’ll be that person who has to do the "rebound of shame," backing out while a line of twenty cars watches you. Dual-wheel trucks are a hard "no." Most rental car companies won't be thrilled if you bring back a car with redwood bark embedded in the door panels, so use a spotter.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Experience
The biggest letdown for travelers is usually the scale of the surroundings. People expect a remote, mystical forest clearing. In reality, these are tourist attractions. You’ll see gift shops selling redwood burls, postcards, and Bigfoot magnets. There will be pavement. There will be the smell of exhaust.
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If you want the "sacred" redwood experience, you go to Founders Grove or Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park. You walk. You listen to the silence. But if you want the kitschy, "look what we did to this giant tree" experience, the drive-through options are exactly what you need. They represent a specific era of American travel where the goal was to dominate nature rather than just observe it. It’s a weirdly honest look at 20th-century tourism.
The Ethics of the Drive-Through
There is a legitimate debate about whether these attractions should exist. Conservationists point out that the soil compaction from thousands of cars driving over the root systems every year is objectively bad for the trees. The weight of a 4,000-pound vehicle crushes the delicate "feeder roots" that sit just below the surface.
On the flip side, these private parks often use the revenue to protect the surrounding acreage from logging. Without the "gimmick" of the drive-through tree, some of these parcels might have been cleared for timber decades ago. It’s a complicated trade-off. By paying your entrance fee, you're essentially funding the preservation of that specific grove, even if the "star" of the show has a hole in its gut.
Timing Your Visit for Google-Level Photos
If you want that perfect shot without a stranger's bumper in the frame, timing is everything.
- Go early. Like, right when they open (usually 8:00 AM or 9:00 AM depending on the season).
- Avoid mid-day Saturdays. The 101 gets packed with weekend trippers from the Bay Area.
- Winter is underrated. It rains, sure. But the moss on the redwoods turns a neon green that looks incredible in photos, and you’ll often have the place to yourself.
The light in the redwoods is tricky. It’s dark under the canopy but bright in the patches where the sun breaks through. If you’re using a phone, tap on the brightest part of the screen to lock the exposure so your car doesn't end up looking like a black silhouette. Or, lean into the silhouette. It looks moody and Pacific Northwest-ish.
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Beyond the Tunnels: What Else is Nearby?
Don't just drive through a tree and leave. You’re in the middle of some of the most spectacular terrain on the planet.
Just south of the Chandelier Tree is the Avenue of the Giants. It’s a 31-mile stretch of old Highway 101 that parallels the new freeway. It’s free. It’s slow. It’s lined with some of the tallest living things on Earth. If you want to feel small—really small—pull over at the Bolling Grove.
If you’re up near the Klamath tree, make the drive out to Fern Canyon. You might recognize it from The Lost World: Jurassic Park. It’s a narrow canyon where the walls are completely draped in prehistoric-looking ferns. You’ll have to drive through a couple of shallow creek crossings to get there, but it’s worth every bump.
Actionable Insights for Your Road Trip
- Measure your vehicle: If you are over 6'6" wide (including mirrors), skip the Chandelier tree and try the Shrine tree instead, which has a slightly more forgiving clearance.
- Bring cash: While most take cards now, the internet in the deep woods is spotty. If their card reader goes down, you'll want those twenties in your pocket.
- Check the weather: After heavy rains, the dirt paths around some of these trees can get muddy. Don't take your freshly washed Ferrari through the Shrine tree in January.
- Fold your mirrors: Seriously. Just do it.
- Look up: Once you're parked inside the tree (most places allow a quick 30-second photo op), look up through the sunroof if you have one. It's a perspective you can't get anywhere else.
The drive-through redwood is a relic. It’s a bit silly, and maybe a little sad if you’re a die-hard naturalist. But it’s also a piece of California history that won't last forever. Trees fall. Tunnels collapse. Eventually, gravity wins. Catch it while you can, take the cheesy photo, and then go for a long walk in the actual, untouched forest to balance out your karma.