There are so few stands of true old-growth timber left in the Pacific Northwest that it would be unthinkable to cut down ancient trees at Rockport State Park to preserve a few campsites.

These trees, some of them as tall as a football field is long, should not fall victim to the narrow calculation of risk. Rockport Park was closed to camping last year after the top 80 feet of a 700-year-old tree broke off and fell to the ground.

The state is understandably concerned for the safety of families that come to camp amid these magnificent trees, some old enough to predate the arrival of Columbus in the New World.

True, old age and disease has as many as 80 percent of the towering Douglas fir, red hemlock and red cedar trees approaching their demise and threatening to topple. Rockport’s 600 acres of forest is, as one parks official put it somewhat indelicately, an arboreal “geriatric ward.”

By one estimate, as many as 1,300 trees would have to be removed to assure an adequate margin of safety for campers.

We sympathize with the state’s dilemma. To cut down that many of these magnificent trees is to diminish the very thing that draws campers to the park. To leave weakened and dying trees standing until they fall is to allow an unacceptable risk to campers.

Many of the trees are vulnerable in their old age to fungus and other diseases and their shallow root systems may not always be able to withstand the hammering of the upper Skagit Valley’s occasional gale-force winds.

In the normal course of time trees die, topple to the forest floor and their decay feeds nutrients to the forest ecosystem and a new life cycle begins. New trees are born and stretch to the heavens.

Owners of some upriver small businesses that rely on the commerce from Rockport campers have suggested that cutting the trees is necessary to preserve the campground.

But we suggest that a landscape stripped of its majestic old-growth trees could well cause those customers to keep moving down the road.

Ideally, the parks department might be able to establish a new campground in the same vicinity, although current budget constraints could make that a distant prospect.

If it is possible to thin out some of the most at-risk trees without significant visual impact that is something the parks department might consider. But toppling hundreds of these giants seems almost a sacrilege.

So, what is it to be? A primeval forest that is among the last of its kind, or a campground among giant stumps?

We cast our vote for the tall trees.

* Editorials reflect the consensus opinion of the editorial board and are written by its members: Publisher L. Stedem Wood, Editor Don Nelson and City Editor Dick Clever. Signed columns reflect the authors’ viewpoint.