The Lost West - New From Tree Ring Co.

Press play — then read.

I got lost in the mountains of Montana.

In Montana's backcountry I walked off the trail and into an unusal stand of Douglas-fir trees. A hundred years old — with stems 1.5" across. Rings packed so tight they look like fingerprints.

These trees sprouted after 1910, the point when we began silencing the fires that had shaped these forests for thousands of years. They grew up in the dark, packed shoulder to shoulder, starving for light, but persisting.


The landscape carries its grief and its grandeur together. So much has been lost out here — and still, so much beauty remains

Perdido means lost — both kinds. The West that was lost, and the West where you can still get lost or lose yourself.

So you can see the heartbeat.

A rotor that only turns because you're moving through your day. No battery, no winding — it only runs because you carry it. Some things only stay alive if someone carries them forward.

Automatic · $525

OESTE PERDIDO — 1926-A

Oeste Perdido 1926-A — automatic watch with wood dial from a 100-year-old suppressed Douglas-fir

A hundred years old and barely 1.5" across.

The Oeste Perdido watch is a slice of that century. The 1926 ring is engraved as a reference point — find it, then count outward. Every ring after it is a year of persistence.

Specs

  • Dial: Montana Douglas-fir, suppressed growth, ~100 years, 1926 ring engraved
  • Movement: Miyota 9015 automatic, 28,800 bph
  • Caseback: Sapphire exhibition
  • Date: None — clean dial (date window available as a custom option)
  • Mark: Lone pine, lightly engraved below 12
  • Edition: 2026 annual edition. When it's gone, it's gone.
  • Made in Missoula, Montana
Closeup of 1926-A dial rings

Count the rings. A century in an inch and a half.

The song

The Portuguese have a word for it: saudade — the presence of an absence. Love for something gone that's somehow still here. There's no English word for that feeling, but there's a whole Western landscape full of it.

Oeste Perdido started as a place, became a watch, and somewhere along the way became a song — three chords, slow, the way the light comes through the smoke in August. Gone, but still here.

Press play.

"Oeste Perdido (The Lost West)" — written by Dave Wager. Produced with AI (Suno).

In Loving Memory of Geoff Wager, 1939–2023. Gone, but still here.