Category Archives: California interior chaparral and woodlands

Point Reyes Fire Lane Trail – Bear Valley loop hike

Leave a reply

I hike at Point Reyes all the time, so I was surprised to see that I still haven’t written about it. It’s a huge, wild peninsula filled with great trails, and the hour-and-a-half drive to get there makes it a reasonable weekend destination. Today, Elizabeth and I hiked a big loop through most of Point Reyes’s landscapes, and I thought it would be a perfect way to introduce the area.

The plan was to start from the meadows near the visitor center, hike through the ancient Douglas-fir forests on the leeward side of Inverness Ridge, then descend through Bishop pine and ceanothus to the coastal scrub and the Pacific Ocean. We’d stop at Arch Rock on the coast, then come back through the densely forested Bear Valley.

Elizabeth and I started our hike at 9:20. We walked across the meadows surrounding the Bear Valley visitor center and then climbed the forested east side of Inverness Ridge. The air was cool and fresh. Sunlight came in through the trees at a low angle. Elizabeth and I had both been a little cranky from waking up to an alarm early on a Sunday morning, but being out in the mountains quickly improved our mood.

Blue and white forget-me-nots (Myosotis latifolia) lined the trail. In the understory were California hazel (Corylus cornuta var. californica), California bay (Umbellularia californica), and tanoak (Lithocarpus densiflorus). Douglas-firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii var. menziesii) grew above everything else. Showy irises (Iris spp.) and huge cow parsnip (Heracleum maximum) grew in the forest clearings.

We stopped in a meadow for a break once we reached the top of Inverness Ridge. In the distance, the golden cliffs of Point Reyes’s western boundary dropped into the Pacific Ocean.

I looked behind us at the short spur trail to the summit of 1,407-foot Mount Wittenberg. I must have walked by it a dozen times, ignoring it each time. But not this time. We hiked to the top, but I’m sorry to report that it was not worth the effort. The summit was indistinct and covered with patches of dense Douglas-fir that blocked any views. I don’t think I’ll be going back.

We hiked north to the Fire Lane Trail. Two years ago, I’d hiked it too late to see all the blueblossom ceanothus (Ceanothus thyrsiflorus) blooming on it. Would we catch them blooming today?

Through the gaps in the trees I saw the dark green hillsides ahead of us dusted with blue. The blueblossoms were blooming! Their boughs were weighed down by masses of blue flowers. Tiny blue petals completely covered the trail.

As we approached the ocean, the forest thinned into Bishop pine (Pinus muricata) scattered between clumps of California blackberry (Rubus ursinus), coyote brush (Baccharis pilularis), poison oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum), and bracken fern (Pteridium aquilinum). Fluorescent-orange scarlet pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis) and bright yellow bird’s-foot trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) lined the trail.

When we got to the beach we sat in the sand below the cliffs. We had lunch and watched the surf. The wind blowing off the water was cold enough for me to put on my jacket.

After lunch we walked for miles along the ocean on the Coast Trail. We were in coastal scrub, a plant community that bears some resemblance to chaparral, but that I’ve never been able to bring myself to like. Maybe that’s because it’s usually choked with poison oak.

Lovely creeks trickled from Inverness Ridge down into the ocean. The combination of a sheltered ravine and fresh water supported surprisingly lush vegetation: alders (Alnus rubra), willows (Salix sp.), horsetails (Equisetum sp.), cow parsnips, big yellow monkeyflowers (Mimulus guttatus), and ferns stumbled all over each other above the creeks.

Next to one of the creeks a small, inconspicuous flower caught my eye. A closer look revealed it to be a species of Calochortus I’d never seen before: pussy ears (C. tolmiei). Their three petals were a dusty lilac covered with fine hairs on the inside.

Our last stop was Arch Rock, a popular headland with excellent views of the ocean. As usual, it was crowded, so I had to ask two guys if we could sit next to them. One of them looked familiar. Then I realized it was Stuart, whom I’d met on a hike with a mutual friend years ago. He was there with his friend Dave. We talked out for a while, and then walked back to the Bear Valley visitor center together.

We all talked and joked, a welcome break from the solitude Elizabeth and I had had all day. We finished at 6:15—Elizabeth and I were out for nearly 9 hours! A great day in the wilderness. We all stopped at the Marin Brewing Company on the way home for an excellent dinner.

Mount Diablo three-peaks loop

Leave a reply

It’s peak wildflower season in the Bay Area and I wanted a hike with lots of views and lots of blooms. A loop over three peaks around Mount Diablo promised a little challenge, some big views, and tons of wildflowers, so I decided on that.

Elizabeth and I got to the trailhead at the Juniper Campground at 9. It was a sunny morning with a crisp, cool breeze. We had an excellent view of the sprawl-filled San Ramon Valley and the broad green hills that bordered it.

We didn’t hike for long before we found wedgeleaf ceanothus (Ceanothus cuneatus) covering entire hillsides with white blooms.

An hour and a half later, we got to our first summit of the day: 3,849-foot Mount Diablo. There were no cars on the summit parking lot yet, only some cyclists and a trail runner. The summit was cold and windy and Elizabeth and I took shelter behind the walls of the visitor center for a snack.

The flowers had been just OK so far, but as we descended onto the north side of Mount Diablo on the North Peak Trail, they became great.

We found bright yellow Goldfields (Lasthenia sp.) all over the ground, and orange wallflowers (Erysimum capitatum), fiddlenecks (Amsinckia sp.), and California poppy (Eschscholzia californica) shooting up above them. Red larkspur (Delphinium nudicaule) grew from the rocks.

Our next stop was North Peak, a 3,557-foot summit northwest of Mount Diablo. The road to it was so steep, Elizabeth and I had trouble climbing it—I couldn’t believe it was used by wheeled vehicles. But the summit bristled with radio antennas, so they must make it up there. We enjoyed the views, then made our way back down. On the way I noticed that the road was lined with pink-blooming gypsum springbeauty (Claytonia gypsophiloides).

Our last stop was 2,369-foot Eagle Peak. I wanted to get there via the Bald Ridge and Eagle Peak trails, a route I first thought of on my direct hike up Mount Diablo a year ago. The Bald Ridge Trail was brushy, and we had to dodge poison oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum) and wade through clouds of bugs, but the views and wildflowers were excellent. There were beautiful bird’s eye gilia (Gilia tricolor ssp. diffusa), purple larkspur (Delphinium sp.), and lovely but inconspicuous checker lily (Fritillaria affinis). Indian warrior (Pedicularis densiflora) lurked in the shadows.

It was warm now and the tall chamise (Adenostoma fasciculatum) on the trail to Eagle Peak blocked the wind, making us hot. Once on the summit, we stopped for snacks and a rest.

All that remained was the walk back to Juniper Campground. The best part of this was a huge patch of blooming white wedgeleaf and blueblossom (Ceanothus thyrsiflorus) ceanothus near Deer Flat Creek on Meridian Ridge Road.

Their flowers mottled the hillsides with blue and white and scented the air. We finished at 4, wrapping up our excellent hike in seven hours.

Hiking in huarache running sandals on Mount Diablo

Leave a reply

Elizabeth and I started today’s hike at 9:15 from Borges Ranch. She was wearing her usual trail runners, but she was also carrying a pair of huarache running sandals in her backpack. She asked for them for her birthday and had taken them on short runs around town and loved how light and simple they were. Today she would try hiking in them, but she had her trail runners as a backup if the sandals didn’t work out.

A storm soaked the Bay Area a week ago, but it was followed by warm, sunny days that would continue through today and the coming week. The hills are luminous green, wildflowers are blooming everywhere, and the wet season is coming to an end.

We started on the Briones to Mount Diablo Trail, walking through miles of pasture and rolling hills dotted with budding blue oaks (Quercus douglasii) and valley oaks (Quercus lobata).

Next was a lovely blue oak woodland on Wall Point Road. The meadow below the trees was filled with white-flowered miner’s lettuce (Claytonia perfoliata), violet blue dicks (Dichelostemma capitatum), and orange fiddlenecks (Amsinckia sp.).

From the woodlands we walked onto a chaparral-covered ridge, weaving through through a variety of shrubby plants—chamise (Adenostoma fasciculatum), black sage (Salvia mellifera), and a couple types of manzanita (Arctostaphylos sp.)—growing among gray pines (Pinus sabineana).

We stopped under a grove of coast live oaks (Quercus agrifolia), where Elizabeth took out her huarache sandals.  She put away her trail runners, slipped on the sandals, and tied the laces around her feet. They were so simple: just Vibram soles and nylon laces.

I’d first heard of huarache running sandals years ago on Scott Carrier’s wonderful Running After Antelope story on This American Life. In it, Carrier describes the Tarahumara, an indigenous people of Mexico whose long-distance running ability is legendary. In the early 1990s they shook the American ultramarathon scene when they entered some of the toughest 100-mile foot races in the Rocky Mountains and set new course records:

In the 1993 Leadville….Tarahumaras took first, second and fifth place. The most amazing thing about the Indians was their pace. The winner was fifty-five years old and only ran the second half of the race twenty minutes slower than he ran the first!

But what I found most intriguing was their footwear:

They wear sandals called huaraches made out of old tire tread and leather straps.

I knew hiking in running shoes was better than hiking in boots, but could sandals be even better than running shoes? Hiking with nothing but a sheet of rubber strapped to your foot seemed a step too far. I kept hiking in sneakers, but the thought remained: if the Tarahumara wore them on hundred-mile races in the Rockies, why couldn’t I wear them on a little day hike?

So when Elizabeth heard about huarache running sandals and wanted to try them, I got her a pair from invisibleshoe. Now I was curious to see how they would work out on a real hike.

Elizabeth cruised along dusty Wall Point Road in her huaraches with no problems. They were light and comfortable.

Poison oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum) was Elizabeth’s first challenge. We were on the Secret Trail, a narrow, overgrown path winding down into Pine Canyon. Poison oak reached toward the trail and sprouted underfoot. But Elizabeth gamely tiptoed around it and avoided touching any.

In the meadows at the bottom of Pine Canyon came another challenge: thick mud that had been rutted, and perhaps defecated upon, by cows. But again, Elizabeth avoided it by finding enough patches of solid ground to keep her feet clean.

Next was Burma Road, a flat gravel road next to Pine Creek. Apparently the creek had inundated the road during recent storms and turned it into a braided river. The huaraches were excellent here, letting Elizabeth walk right through the water. Meanwhile, I had to zigzag across what remained of the road and jump over rivulets to keep my shoes dry.

After two hours of hiking, Elizabeth started to slow down. The soles of her feet were tender from the rocky ground and her skin was getting chafed by the Vibram. She put on her socks and trail runners and said they felt like walking on pillows compared to the sandals, ending her experiment. We hiked out of Pine Canyon through lush and beautiful Buckeye Ravine and finished our hike at 4:30.

So what did I make of Elizabeth’s experiment? Huarache running sandals offer some of the lightest and most natural walking possible, but getting your feet used to them needs to be a long, careful process. Sandals also leave your feet exposed to bugs, snakes, animal dung, and poisonous plants. But then those aren’t always real threats on a hike. Could I see myself ever doing a full hike or backpack in them? Sure. And I think they would be excellent shoes for fording rivers and wearing around camp on a backpacking trip.