Backpacking with the Scouts 1956-1961

I'm still taking it easy with the hiking and I don't know how long it will be before my foot feels good enough for long walks. In the meantime, I can still add stuff to this blog. I'm going to ignore the common advice that a blog should stay focused on a single subject, and start adding posts about other stuff. Mostly, I want to share some stories and photos from long ago in places far from the East Bay. I've got a lot to choose from, but I decided to start way back near the very beginning of my interest in hiking and wilderness.

It was June, 1956, and I was 11 years old, when I went on my first backpacking trip. I had joined Boy Scout troop 204 in Lafayette, a troop that took scouting more seriously than most. They were well organized and had a lot of activities going on, including a 10-12 day, 60 mile wilderness trip every summer. It was pretty scary for a shy little kid like me, but I soon made a lot of friends and began to fit in.

The backpacking trip took a lot of preparation. Lots of things were different about backpacking in those days. Our equipment was all very low-tech and inexpensive. We got a lot of it from Army-Navy surplus stores. There were a lot of them around, selling left-over stuff from World War II. My dad helped me build my own wooden pack frame. For tents, each boy carried a "shelter half", a piece of canvas that buttoned together with another one to make a pup tent big enough for two. We had cheap sleeping bags, but no pads or mattresses. To pack up, we would lay out everything on the shelter half, wrap it up and lash it to the pack frame.

Cooking was done on wood fires with #10 tin cans for pots, and a few flat aluminum pans. When we arrived at a campsite, all of the boys spread out to gather wood -- small dead sticks broken from the lower branches of lodgepole pines. Our food was mostly dehydrated -- freeze dried food was not available yet. We didn’t use any kind of water purification; we just drank right out of the lakes and streams. We usually went early in the season — late June or early July, and there was usually plenty of water and lots of snow. Often, there was too much water — streams difficult to cross and meadows flooded. And there were plenty of mosquitos too. Repellent and head nets were standard equipment. Near the midpoint of each trip, we would be resupplied by air drop. A plane would fly over and drop boxes of food with parachutes.

This was way before the days of overflight restrictions, wilderness permits and group size limitations. It was also before anyone thought much about protecting the environment. We picked up our trash and filled in our fire pits, but otherwise didn't think much about our impact on the land. It didn't seem to matter much because there was hardly anyone else there. We would often go for days without meeting other people on the trail.

Anyway, there I was, eleven years old with almost no camping experience, going on my first trip. We met at the scout cabin at about 4 am, and 30 or 40 of us got on a chartered bus and rode to Hetch Hetchy in Yosemite. It was a hot day, and after hiking across the dam, we climbed a dusty trail endlessly switchbacking up the side of the canyon. It was very hard for me, panting hard to get enough air and dying of thirst. Someone told me that holding a small pebble in my mouth would help with the thirst, and it seemed to work at least a bit. I was totally exhausted when I finally reached our campsite in a meadow named Beehive.

Early the next morning, I was startled awake by a very loud explosion. Our scoutmaster liked to wake everyone up with a large firecracker. I was mostly recovered from yesterday’s hiking, but now I was suffering from diarrhea, probably from the change in food, or the water, and I was pretty miserable. I was thinking maybe this was all a big mistake, and there was no way to escape. But after hiking a few miles, we came to Lake Vernon, and the view of the lake and the high granite domes beyond it was really impressive. Day by day, I got stronger and used to the routine, and I noticed more and more what a beautiful place it was.

Ever since I had joined the troop, I had suffered with anxiety about rumors of a tough initiation. It happened around the sixth day at Wilmer Lake. I was blindfolded and led through a lot of ceremonial stuff, and then I was told that I was going to be thrown into the river. Two older boys held my arms and feet and swung me several times, then let me go. I was expecting icy cold water, but some other boys caught me and it was all over.

Each day of hiking we had been gaining elevation, and about the seventh day patches of snow appeared here and there, and when we reached Grace Meadows at about 10,000 ft., there was snow all over. We found some patches of bare ground in the trees, and camped there. It was here that we had the air drop. Our scoutmaster was an airline pilot, and he had connections in the air force, and so the plane that appeared was a World War II era bomber, a B-29, I believe.

We spent a couple of layover days there, and one morning, one of the older boys led a climb up nearby 11,000 ft. Forsyth Peak. I went along, and it was one of the most exciting things I had ever done. It was windy and cloudy, and all around us seemed like an endless expanse of snowy mountains. After that I was thoroughly hooked on climbing to high places. I always thought that some day I would learn how to do some real climbing with ropes and stuff, and never got around to it. But I have enjoyed many years of hiking around in the mountains and scrambling up peaks here and there.

For the following seven summers, I went on similar trips with the troop. All but two of them were crossings of the northern Yosemite area, a beautiful area that doesn't get as much attention as the high country further south. The other two trips followed the John Muir Trail from Devils Postpile to Tuolumne Meadows, another of my favorite areas.

Here are some of the highlights (and low points) of those trips:

On the 1957 trip, my second, there was a boy a year younger than I who was not doing well. He was a spoiled kid who was not very active and somewhat overweight, and was having a hard time keeping up. The other boys teased him mercilessly. On the second day, we faced a 2000 ft. climb over a ridge, and the scoutmaster asked me to hike with him. I was pretty insecure myself, so I was afraid that I would end up a target of their teasing too. But I did it, and without all the jeering from the other boys, this kid managed to get himself up the ridge, and he made it through the rest of the trip. And no one teased me about it either.

Also on that 1957 trip, one of the older boys was leading the troop as we approached Benson Lake where we planned to camp on the beach. It was a wet year, and about a mile before the lake, the trail was under water. We waded on through thigh-deep water, with terrible mosquitos, until we reached the beach, which was under several feet of water. We had to wade back out and ended up camping on a brushy hillside where the mosquitoes weren't quite as bad but still pretty miserable.

In 1959, at a rest stop, our scoutmaster, Ken Clifford, was busy doctoring the blisters of one of the boys. At that point it had pretty much been decided that a career in medicine was in my future, since I was good in science and that's what my family wanted. As Ken was taping up the boy's blister, he said to me something like "If you want to be a doctor, you should pay attention to this". What I should have paid attention to was the fact that I wasn't really interested in another boy's blisters, and years later I realized that I really didn't want to be a doctor, and I dropped out of my third year of medical school at UCSF.

In 1961, I remember a very long, cold night spent next to a fire in thin clothing and no sleeping bag. A group of us were camped at Minaret Lake, and a couple of older boys and I set out to do some exploring. We had climbed to Cecile Lake and were heading down a long talus slope toward Iceberg Lake when one of the boys slipped and badly sprained his ankle. He didn't think he could make it back, so we half carried him down to Shadow Lake. He and I spent a freezing night together while the other boy went for help.

I've always had a good memory for the places where I have been. From a very early age I was obsessed with maps and always knowing where I was. Even though it was more than 50 years ago, I still have quite clear memories of a lot of the special places that we visited on those trips. Many of these places in northern Yosemite I have never been back to, but that's not because I didn't care about seeing them again. It's because they take several days of hiking for the average person to get to, and I usually didn't have the time for a week-long trip. These days I could make the time, but I'm probably not physically up to it anymore. But who knows? Maybe someday.

fooling around, Smedberg Lake, 1957                      me at Pleasant Valley, 1957

cooking dinner, Thousand Island Lake, 1958                                        stream crossing, 1958

Typical large campfire -- Spiller Creek, 1959

At the end of one of the trips -- I'm in 2nd row, far left -- Scoutmaster Ken Clifford at far right

Stuck Under a Horse

Now I know what it feels like to be between a rock and a hard place -- or in my case between a rock and a 1200 lb. horse.

I've been trying to take it easy with the hiking lately because of the pain in my left heel. But riding a horse is not too hard on the feet, so yesterday Maureen and I took our horses out for a short ride in Garin Park. The horses are boarded at Alta Vista Equestrian Center right next to the park, and we ride there pretty regularly. Our horses are both 25-year-old geldings and hardly anything bothers them on the trail. Maureen usually rides Zach, an Appaloosa, and I ride Rio, a quarter horse. Our rides are usually uneventful, and not worth a blog post, but yesterday was different.

Everything was fine for the first half hour or so as we rode out into the park. Then Maureen decided to head off the trail up a short steep hillside that connects with another trail. The horses were working hard, trotting up the hill when suddenly Rio stopped and his legs started to buckle. I turned him sideways so he wouldn't back down the hill, and then he just lay down and rolled over on his downhill side. Several times in the past few years he has started to do something similar, but he always was able to get back up and keep going, so I didn't think of trying to jump off. Besides, it happened so fast I don't know whether I could have anyway. So there I was with my right leg stuck under Rio, and no way I could pull it out. Rio just lay there, not trying to move. My leg hurt quite a bit because a rock was pressing into my calf muscle. I tried to get him to move, but I didn't want him to move too much because I knew I might get hurt much worse if he did a lot of struggling to get up.

Maureen was up the hill from us, and she got off Zach, who was getting freaked out, and soon realized that she couldn't help me unless she let him go. So he ran back and forth a bit and then went under some low hanging trees, which freaked him out even more and he took off out of sight over the hill.

It seemed to me that I was stuck there for about 20 minutes, but it was probably not really that long. Maureen tried to pull on Rio to get him up, and he began flailing his hooves, and she got kicked a few times, but not badly. I got my other foot against Rio's neck and pushed hard, and very slowly my leg moved a couple of inches. Then Maureen thought that maybe the saddle was making it harder for Rio to get up, and we managed to undo the cinch. Finally, Rio moved again and I was able to pull my leg all the way out leaving my boot under him. Then he got to his feet. He was still a bit wobbly, but Maureen was able to lead him back down to the base of the hill. I brought down the saddle and put it back on him so we wouldn't have to carry it, and then we started walking back on the trail.

About half way back to the barn, we saw someone riding a horse and ponying another (leading him without a rider). When they got closer we saw that it was a young woman riding Zach, and it was her horse that she was ponying. She said that she had been heading out for a ride and saw Zach running back and forth by the gate to the barn. We all walked our horses back down the trail. By now Rio was doing fine, and Zach was wet with sweat, but seemed OK too. We had really worried about him hurting himself on his wild run.

We put the horses away and were driving back home thinking that it was all behind us now, when Maureen noticed that her phone was missing. We went back to the barn and looked all over, even back up the trail a ways, but it was getting dark, so we gave up. Back at home, I had heard of an app called "Find my iPhone", so I tried to download it to my phone. It required me to upgrade my system software, which seemed to get hung after loading half way, and I thought that I was going to lose my phone too. Then the TV stopped working. After getting everything working again (except for the app which didn't work), I was so ready for a drink.

The next morning, we went back to the barn and walked out to the site of the incident, and there was the phone lying in the grass. But it didn't work, and after charging all day it still doesn't work. And I ended up doing way more walking than I probably should have on my sore foot, but besides my foot, I have aches and pains just about all over now. But I shouldn't complain. I feel very lucky that we got through it with no serious injuries to either people or horses.

11-24-13 Black Diamond Mines

On a Sunday morning, we got a call from our son, Chris, asking if we wanted to go with him and our two grandsons, Elisjsha (age 10) and Zachery (age 8), to Black Diamond Mines. It sounded fun, so Maureen and I went along. Luckily, Chris has a minivan with plenty of room so we all rode together, including his wife, Jonnie and our granddaughter, Makaila (age 3), who we dropped off in Concord to spend the afternoon with a friend.

When we got to the park, we found out that Chris picked today to come because they were having open house in the mines. As a park district employee he keeps up with events like this. At the Hazel-Atlas mine entrance, they handed everyone a hard hat and a flashlight. Neither seemed necessary, since there were no low ceilings and it was all well-lit. We followed the tunnel deep into the mountain, mostly through sandstone, and it was interesting to see the tilted layers, and in places ripple marks where the sandstone had been deposited beneath the sea. there were holes where we could see into huge chambers that had been hollowed out by mining.

in the mine

Coal mines were started here soon after the gold rush, and it was a busy place for much of the last half of the 19th century with 5 towns and thousands of miners, many of whom were recruited from mining areas of England and Wales. Then, from the 20's through the 40's, mining was resumed for sandstone for making glass. That was the part of the mine that we were exploring. We only went about a quarter mile, but they said that there were over 200 miles of tunnels in the area.

on the trail

Back out of the mine, we continued on the trail up a steep little ravine. At the first trail junction, Maureen and Elisjsha decided to head back down on the trail to the right that led down another little ravine. Chris, Zachery, and I went on up to the top of the ridge and turned left, climbing another quarter mile or so to a hilltop with a great view to the valleys and ridges to the southeast.

Zachery and Chris at the top of the hill

I enjoy hiking with kids, but it takes a lot of patience and flexibility. I thought the boys would be really interested in the mine and the rocky trail, and maybe they were, but didn't show it much. They seemed much more interested in stopping for a snack along the way. The trail is quite steep, and both boys complained about how hard it was and "how much farther do we have to go?", but then a minute later were running ahead up the trail. On the way down, Zachery was running down a steep gravely place, right after his dad had told him not to run, and of course, he slipped and fell. It probably hurt, but no real damage was done.

Back at the bottom of the hill, we met up again with Maureen and Elisjsha, found a table and ate some lunch, then headed back to the car. The boys found a couple of sticks which became light-sabers, and fought a little battle up and down the mounds of tailings on the way. It all added up to a nice afternoon and we all had fun.

View east from Sommersville site

about 1.5 miles, 500 ft. climb

11-8-13 Anthony Chabot

A Friday afternoon and Maureen and Cherry were going riding, and I felt like a hike. For the last couple of months I've had a pain in my left heel and it has gotten worse lately. But it wasn't too bad that day and I didn't think it would give me any problems. On a couple of my hikes I've explored some of the northern end of Anthony Chabot Regional Park, going out from Bort Meadow on the Grass Valley Trail and Ranch Trail. Both times I had turned left at the Goldenrod Trail and made a loop, but I had never turned to the right. I wasn't sure how this would work, because the map shows the Goldenrod Trail deadending without connecting with any other trail or road. I figured we could find some way to get from there to the Parkridge Drive park entrance.

So Darby and I started off from the Bort Meadow Staging Area on the now familiar trail past the meadow and then steeply up the hillside to the west. Turning right onto the Goldenrod Trail at the top, we found it much the same as to the left. A young guy on a mountain bike passed us and asked if we knew where the trail ended. I had to tell him I didn't know either. Soon we came to a gate with a road on the other side. The biker went out through it, but the trail continued so we kept following it. The trail ended at another gate, and through it was what appeared to be an equestrian facility, but it was deserted -- no people or horses. A couple of the structures looked quite new, and signs said that they had been funded by the 2008 bond issue. It looked like it could be a nice place to keep a horse, and it was surprising that it was unused. At the far end of the facility, past an interesting old Spanish-style building, we came to a gate with a sign "Private Property", and a driveway beyond it. I looked at my iPhone and saw that we were only 100 yards or so from Skyline Blvd. So we walked down the driveway and found the street. This part of Skyline is a divided road with a trail along the center divider, so we didn't have to worry about the traffic.

At Parkridge Dr. we turned right and walked several blocks on sidewalks to the end of the street and the park entrance. A few yards from there, we turned right on the Macdonald Trail which gradually descended along the eastern ridge back to our starting point. It seems that this section of the Bay Area Ridge Trail is a popular trail with mountain bikers, and several of them passed us going dangerously fast. I noticed a sign for the Brittleleaf Trail heading down the east side of the ridge. I don't know what Brittleleaf is or why anyone would want to go down this .39 mile, steep dead end trail, but maybe one of these days I will check it out.

Coming down the last hill, my heel was hurting quite a lot now, and I was glad to be near the end of the hike. It probably wasn't a good idea to hike with a sore foot because the next day I could barely walk on it. Now, after a couple of days rest, it is not so bad, but I need to take it easy for a while.

Back home, I looked up Oakland City Stables, and found out that it was in use as recently as last year and that it was the site of a popular program to let city kids learn about riding and working with horses. It has an interesting history going back to the 1820's and the Peralta family, the original landowners of most of the East Bay. Apparently, the city closed it because they couldn't find a suitable manager for it and didn't want to provide any funding to keep it open.

4.6 mi. 900 ft. climb

11-3-13 Wall Point - Mt. Diablo

View west from Wall Point

It was a nice Saturday afternoon and I wanted to go hiking. I've been avoiding hiking with Darby on weekends because there are usually lots more people out with loose dogs. If I left him home there would be no problem and besides I could go anywhere, including trails where dogs are not allowed. So I decided to go Mt. Diablo State Park. Years ago I had done a loop from the Macedo Ranch entrance that I remembered being one of my favorites, so I set out to do it again.

When I arrived at the end of Green Valley Road, I found that it required a self-service parking fee. I needed $5.00 (with senior discount), but I only had 3. I wasn't going to give up my hike for a couple of bucks, so I put what I had in the envelope and hoped that I would get away with it. I figured that it would cost them way more than $2 to track me down and give me a ticket. We'll see what happens.

I started off up over the first hill and down into Pine Canyon. Everything is very dry now, but still quite pretty in the late-season afternoon light. There was quite a lot of fall colors (at least a lot for California) along the way, especially the maples and sycamores. At the bottom of the canyon, I turned right, heading upstream and climbing gradually along the dry creek bed. After a mile or so, the road climbs more steeply and keeps climbing for a good long way. As it begins to head away from the creek, I turned right on the Secret Trail, a single-track trail that is not exactly secret since it is well-signed. It climbs some more, then cuts across the side of the ridge to the south and connects with the Wall Point Road. I turned right again and began returning along the ridge. Now it was apparent that I had gained a lot of elevation and there were lots of great views of the Blackhawk and Danville areas. The ridge, part of the Black Hills, is covered with chaparral with lots of big sandstone outcrops -- very scenic. Soon a little climbing brought me to a high point and I began to wonder where exactly was "Wall Point". Looking at the map later I found that it was at that high point. From there, the road goes up and down along the ridge, but mostly down, until the loop is done, and there is only the last small hill to cross.

Sometimes these days I remember hikes from long ago as not being too hard, but that was when I was young and in good shape. When I try them again I find them much harder than I remembered. That didn't happen so much today. I ended up tired, but not completely worn out, and it was an enjoyable afternoon.

6.2 miles, 1300 ft. climb

8-23-13 Anthony Chabot

Ranch Trail

I felt like doing a little hiking this morning, but didn't feel like I had the energy for anything very long. Plus, I wanted to have time to do some painting later. I remembered that I had intended to go back to the Ranch Trail in Anthony Chabot so I could get a good GPS track on it, since the park district map shows it obviously in the wrong location. Fog hung over the hills and kept it cool all morning and nice for hiking.

Darby and I started off from the Bort Meadow Staging Area and headed up the valley on the Grass Valley Trail. Not far beyond the Bort Meadow group camp area, the trail crosses the creek and switchbacks steeply up a spur ridge as the Ranch Trail. We came across a guy with a couple of dogs who leashed them and passed by without incident. Near the top of the ridge, we turned left on the Goldenrod Trail and went about a half mile, then turned left on the Buckeye Trail. It descends steeply down log steps into a little canyon. We passed the guy with the two dogs again -- apparently he was doing this loop in the opposite direction. Otherwise, we met no one else on the trail.

We were back at the car after just an hour of hiking. This is a nice little loop for a relatively short hike. It's a bit of a workout, with some steep climbing, and it is a pretty area with lots of variety in the vegetation -- grassy hills, brush, shady woods. The map below, while still not perfect because my GPS track was somewhat erratic, shows the locations of the trails much more accurately than the park map, which as you can see, is way off.

2.4 miles, 500 ft. climb

8-13-13 Sierra Camping

Maureen and I and Darby just spent 8 days in the Sierra. We spent 5 nights car camping and two nights in a cabin. It was a very relaxing trip and I got a good dose of Sierra -- something that I never seem to get enough of. We're calling this our vacation, but I don't know if you can still call a trip a vacation after you are retired.

We started off at our all-time favorite campground, Sherwin Creek near Mammoth Lakes. We've been camping there for about thirty years, ever since a friend recommended it. It's about three miles southeast of town on a partly unpaved road. It looks like it is just out in the sagebrush, but then you come to the campground in beautiful pine forest and aspens. The place is lightly used and quiet because most campers head for the lakes. We've noticed that every campground seems to have its own personality because of the type of campers that are attracted. This one seems to attract more of our kind of people -- those who are content to just quietly hang out and enjoy their surroundings. It's also conveniently located just a couple of miles from the many stores and restaurants of Mammoth Lakes.

Our Sherwin Creek campsite

Near Sherwin Creek Campground

Our first day, we did just that -- enjoyed our surroundings with a couple of short walks around the area around the campground. It's an area right on the edge of where the mountains meet the desert, a mix of sagebrush, forest and riparian vegetation that I find especially beautiful. Our next day, we set out to hike to Sherwin Lakes, a two mile hike with about 800 ft. of climbing. Maureen likes to hike, but she is not especially goal-oriented, so she turned back about a half mile from the lakes. Darby and I continued and I enjoyed sitting by a nice little lake and he enjoyed swimming after a thrown stick. Later, we drove out to Hot Creek and walked around a little. It is still fenced off and closed to swimming, but several people had climbed the fence and gone in anyway. It is still a beautiful spot even without the soak in the hot springs.

Sherwin Lakes

Hot Creek

We packed up and headed north, stopping as usual at the Mono Lake Committee store in Lee Vining. We had wanted to break up our trip so we wouldn't be in the same place too long, so we had reserved a campsite at Twin Lakes near Bridgeport. We were familiar with the area, but not the Lower Twin Lakes Campground, and when we got there, we discovered that our campsite was not designed for tent camping. The campsites were all packed together side by side with just a driveway for an RV and a table. No space for a tent. Plus, there was a group right next to us with a loose dog running around that was sure to make trouble for Darby. We seemed to be stuck in a bad situation -- no useable campsite on a Saturday afternoon in an area where all campgrounds are usually full in August. We wanted to check for available reservations in other campgrounds, but we had no phone service, so we drove back into Bridgeport, stopping along the way to check out all the other forest service campgrounds nearby. No luck with any of that, so as a last resort, I called Mono Village, the private resort at the head of the lakes, and they said they had sites available. We've stayed there several times before, and Maureen doesn't like it, but we didn't have much choice. But we found a nice site by the creek with plenty of room, and we settled in. The resort is a funky old place that has barely changed at all since I was first there in the late 50's. It's one of those places where families have been coming to for several generations.

 

Meadow next to Mono Village Campground

We walked around a nearby meadow that was really beautiful in the late afternoon light with the high peaks all around. The next day, after a little excitement when a small bear walked through our camp, we hiked up the Horse Creek Trail. I had been up and down Horse Creek several times in the past, and I remembered some nice views. We came to the cascades after about a half mile, and Maureen decided that it was far enough for her, and turned back. Darby and I continued up another mile or so and about 900 ft. up, to the first little flat valley, and were rewarded by a great view of Matterhorn Peak above a waterfall.

Matterhorn Peak from Horse Creek

Monday, we packed up again and drove north, stopping in Minden for groceries, and then to Ebetts Pass. I remembered years ago hiking a short distance to a little lake, but we couldn't find the trail, so we just sat on a hillside with views all around and ate some lunch. We continued to Lake Alpine and checked in to the Lake Alpine Lodge in a rustic little one-bedroom cabin. It was a nice change to have a clean place with a real bed and bathroom.

Lake Alpine Lodge cabin

Tuesday, we decided to hike to the top of the hill on the far side of the lake, a place called Inspiration Point (I wonder how many other places have that same name?). After a steep climb of about 700 ft., we were at the top of the ridge with interesting cliffs and outcrops of volcanic rock. I took a look at my phone and saw a happy birthday message from my old friend, Rosemary and her husband, Bo. I also got one from another friend, Norma. Yes, it was my birthday, and I couldn't have asked for a better one. Nice little hike, a swim in the lake in the afternoon, and a good steak for dinner at the lodge restaurant.

Maureen and Darby in Lake Alpine

We had been wondering about the lodge since Maureen checked Yelp after we had already made our reservations, and the reviews of both the cabins and the restaurant weren't so good. One of the burners on the stove didn't work and some folks that we met said they didn't have any hot water, but otherwise I guess we were lucky. I think maybe some people expect a mountain cabin to be like an urban hotel, but we expect it to be a bit old and funky. Makes it seem like roughing it some.

Altogether, a very good trip. I would have liked to have more time for some longer hikes, but it's also nice to just relax in beautiful surroundings.

8-1-13 Dinosaur Ridge

Yesterday, I was adding some maps to some of my previous posts, and I noticed that there was a comment on my post about Dinosaur Ridge from 4-19-13. I was quite surprised. Since I haven't done anything to publicize this blog, I didn't think anyone would ever find it. The comment suggested an easier way to get to Dinosaur Ridge from Bellhurst Lane at the top of the Columbia development off Cull Canyon Road. I had been intending to try this anyway, so I decided to go ahead and do it this morning.

Part of this route would be on EBMUD land, where dogs are not allowed, so I left Darby at home. Lately, I've noticed him limping a bit after some of our longer hikes, so I'll probably start leaving him behind more in the future. He's going on 8 now, not so young anymore, and he's getting some arthritis. I'll really miss his company on hikes.

The entrance to this trail is a driveway and gate between two houses, and it is not at all obvious from the street. On the gate, there is a sign saying "No Trail Access". But there is a gap between the gate and the fence just big enough to squeeze through. Obviously the park district wants to discourage anyone from using this entrance, but I doubt that they would do anything to enforce it. Anyway, on a Thursday morning, there was no one around, so I was able to slip past the gate unnoticed. Just inside a second gate there were three horses in a pasture who appeared unconcerned by me walking by.

Soon the houses were out of sight and I was following a grassy and brushy ridge with nice views of the hills all around. After a half-mile or so, there was another gate entering EBMUD land. The sign said that unlike all of the other EBMUD trails, no permit was required for this one. The trail continues as a wide fire road going up and down near the top of the ridge, and then climbs a couple hundred feet to the top of Dinosaur Ridge. Since I had been there only a few months ago, I didn't bother staying long, but I did notice that where before it had all been green grass and poppies, now it was all dead grass and weeds.

On the way back I passed another hiker doing the same hike as I, the only other person I saw all morning. It was a nice little hike -- quiet, good views, and it only took a little less than 2 hours. It was definitely an easier way to get to Dinosaur Ridge, although it was still a bit of a workout.

The map below shows my route deviating from the trail shown on the EBRPD map. That's not because I went off the trail, it's because their map is not accurate. I've recently noticed inaccurate trail alignments on several park district maps, and in this case I checked it against the GPS track on my iPhone, and my red line is closer to the location of the real trail.

4.2 miles, 800 ft. climb.

7-26-13 Las Trampas

 It looked like another good day for a hike -- morning fog promising to keep the heat down. After dropping off my grandson, Zachery, at Camp Tenderfoot, Darby and I drove to Danville. I wanted to check out an entrance to Las Trampas Regional Wilderness that I hadn't been to before, the Ringtail Cat Staging Area at the end of Hemme Ave. This appeared to be a good starting point for a loop through the northern end of the Park.

This area around Las Trampas Peak has always been special to me because it was one of the first wild areas that I knew as a kid. In the mid-50s, When I was about 10, my dad got the idea that we could hike over the hills from our home in Lafayette to my aunt and uncle's home in Danville. Dad and I and my younger sister set out without any directions or maps and somehow found our way there. At that time the whole area was undeveloped private land, but we rarely encountered anyone. If we did, the ranchers didn't mind too much as long as we didn't bother the cattle. We made many more hikes like that, and found a nice route along the northern end of Las Trampas Ridge to Las Trampas Peak, and then down the present Madrone Trail into San Ramon Valley. I wanted to revisit part of that route today.

Climbing Ringtail Cat Trail

The fog had cleared but it was still a bit cool as Darby and I started off following a dry creekbed from the small parking lot. Soon, the trail began a steep climb up the hill to the left. After a good hard climb, we came to a junction with the Madrone Trail in a open grassy flat overlooking the valley. I remembered this as the site of an oil drilling rig that was once here in the late 50s. They must not have found any oil, because it didn't stay there long. My plan was to head up the Corduroy Hills Trail to Eagle Peak, but right at this junction I saw a fairly well worn path heading straight up the hill. I figured that if it kept on going that way it would intersect my intended route, so I gave it a try. It turned to be a pretty good trail, but a steep climb. We continued on the Corduroy Hills Trail up the steep-sided crest of a ridge to Eagle Peak, coming out of the woods to steep chaparral and sandstone outcrops. Several years ago, I was hiking here, stepping between these rocks, when suddenly there was a big rattlesnake coiled and rattling in the middle of the trail. Somehow I managed a mid-stride leap and missed the snake. He was as startled as I was and slithered into the rocks before I could aim my camera.

Eagle Peak

 A steep, slippery scramble down across a saddle brought us to the Las Trampas Ridge Trail and we turned right. Now on a more familiar trail, we followed the ridge northwest to Las Trampas Peak. The actual peak is up a short side trail, but I had visited it fairly recently, we didn't bother going to the top. We descended a long grassy ridge to the northeast, then curved back into the canyon on the Madrone Trail. By now it was a bit warm, and I knew that Darby was getting pretty dry. On our park map there was a "horse water" symbol on the trail, and we found it as a small, muddy pond in the main canyon. After drinking for about 5 minutes without a break, Darby was now feeling better. We climbed a bit and contoured along the south side of the canyon shaded by oaks and bay trees. We finally completed our loop, and headed down the Ringtail Cat Trail back to our car.

Eagle Peak from near Las Trampas Peak

I hadn't bothered to estimate how long a hike this would be, but I knew it would he a pretty challenging one. It turned out to be just about the same distance and elevation gain as the hike I did on Mt. Diablo last week. I thought it was well worth the hard work, a good place to cover a lot of beautiful, rugged country.

7.2 miles, 2000 ft. climb

7-16-13 Mt. Diablo - The Grand Tour

Juniper Trail near start of hike

For the last couple of days, it has been foggy in the mornings and fairly cool in the afternoons. Today promised to be the same, so I thought it might be a good day for a hike on Mt. Diablo, where it is usually too hot this time of year. One of my favorite hikes on the mountain is a loop around the north side that I have done several times, but not for at least 20 years. The last time was with Maureen and a friend, Kim, a young guy that she worked with who loved a challenging hike. It was mid-winter, cold and windy. There were patches of snow in some spots along the trail, and near the end of the hike it began to snow again.

I remembered the hike as a demanding one, and I debated with myself for a while about whether I was too old for this now. I decided to go ahead. If it seemed to be getting too hard I could always turn back if I hadn't gone too far. But once I neared the half-way point, I would be committed to finishing because there are no short-cuts.

Driving out through Danville, I could see that the top of the mountain was still in clouds, but by the time I parked near the Juniper Campground, they had gone. Next to me was another older guy getting ready for a hike. He asked if I was doing the Grand Tour. I had seen this name for the route on my map, so I answered yes. But he was heading out in a clockwise direction and I had chosen to go the other way. I wanted to get the climb to the summit out of the way first, or maybe find a way to avoid it.

I started out up the Juniper Trail, climbing steeply, then leveling off for a bit. I had thought that maybe I could cut down off-trail to the road to avoid climbing the last 400 ft. or so to the Lower Summit Parking Lot, but although it was only a short distance, it was all solid chaparral that would have been very difficult to get through, so I stuck to the trail.

Clematis lasiantha

I noticed here and there in the brush was a plant with pretty white puff balls. I looked it up later and it appears that they were the seed pods of Clematis lasiantha, or Virgin's Bower. I continued to see lots of it throughout the hike. I also saw silk tassel, with similar feathery tassels, but not in a ball like the Clematis. In fact I noticed that there are all kinds of plants up here that I don't see in the hills nearer to home. I thought that being a dry July, it would be rather dead looking, but it was quite beautiful to see mountainsides patched with so many colors of green and gold.

On North Peak Trail

My climbing done for the next few miles, I headed down the Summit Trail to the hairpin turn called Devil's Elbow, and across the steep mountainside on the North Peak Trail, enjoying the great views to the south and east. As well as the many sights, I was enjoying the fragrant smells of pine and juniper, and the total quiet except for the occasional wind in the trees.

Prospector's Gap Road

By the time I reached Prospector's gap between the main peak and North Peak, I was feeling good and ready to commit to the whole route. Heading down the very steep road, I passed the guy who had hiked the other direction. He was making better time than I was although he still had about 1000 ft. of climbing ahead of him. Near the bottom of the descent, I passed Big Spring, a shady spot I remembered from previous hikes. For the next mile or so, the road stayed fairly level, then climbed a bit to Murchio Gap on the ridge leading out to Eagle Peak. The road dropped fairly steeply down grassy hillsides with views of Mitchell Canyon and then up again to Deer Flat.

Rocks somewhere on north side

There is not much there but a trail junction, but I remembered the spot from my Boy Scout days when I was in my early teens. As a training hike for a Sierra backpacking trip, we hiked with full packs from Mitchell Canyon all the way over the mountain to the Scout camp near Rock City. It was one of those 100 degree plus days, and I had a seriously hard time with it, suffering from dehydration and probably heat exhaustion, I had to stop and puke a couple of times. Deer flat was the spot where we stopped for a rest and wait for stragglers, of whom I was probably one. It was still another 800 ft. or so over the ridge to Juniper Camp, but after the rest I was better able to go on and complete the hike.

Manzanita and pine cones

Today, the weather was comfortably cool and I felt fine -- just a bit tired. I sat down and ate a granola bar and an apple. I could have used some water, but I didn't bring any. I guess lots of people would think it was pretty foolish to do a hike like this without water. I see people with their camelback packs hiking or cycling with a water tube in their mouths, apparently needing constant water. That way is probably healthier, but I've always gotten by without much water. On my first scout backpacking trip, I was told that it was not good to drink when you were hot and thirsty, that it would make you sick. Just suck on a little pebble and your thirst won't bother you so much. It was bad advice, but I learned that I could survive without frequent drinking. So I usually don't want the extra weight of a water bottle unless it is quite hot or the hike is long.

Today, the climb to the ridge didn't seem so bad. Most of it is an easy grade. I think doing the hike in the counter-clockwise direction was easier than the other way, although the elevation gain and loss are the same either way. But you don't have the steep sustained climb of nearly 2000 ft. on the last half of the hike.

There were a number of campers set up in Juniper Camp as I walked through. I always thought that this would be a very nice place to camp, although I never have. Shady sites with great views. When I got to the car, I noticed that the other guy's car was gone, confirming that he was a faster hiker. I don't mind. I'm way past being concerned with speed these days. This really was a great hike. Besides the rugged country and great views, I think what I like best about it is the feeling of being way out in a wild place, even though the surrounding cities are always in view far below.

 7.2 miles, 2000 ft. climb    (mileage from gps on my iPhone -- the map says 6.2 miles)

7-12-13 Carquinez Straits

There are a couple of fairly new regional parks in northern Contra Costa County that interested me, so today I checked out one of them, Carquinez Strait Regional Shoreline near Martinez. I was a little reluctant to drive so far for a short hike, but the drive wasn't really that bad -- 45 min. or so.

Finding the Nejedly Staging area on Carquinez Straits Scenic Drive took a little hunting through the little old streets of the Martinez waterfront, but we found it. There was only one other car in the parking lot, and as Darby and I prepared to go, the woman at the other car called out to me, saying that she had just locked her keys in her car. I was going to let her use my cell phone to call AAA, but just then she noticed two tow trucks parked in an upper parking area. She went up and talked with them and returned a bit upset because they rather rudely informed her that they weren't associated with AAA, and for 100 some odd dollars, they would help her, but otherwise she could get lost. So she went ahead and used my phone to call AAA.

We started up the Hulet Hornbeck Trail which climbs steeply and steadily up a shady little ravine. I remember Mr. Hornbeck from years ago when I was working on my book and went to meetings of the East Bay Trails Council. At that time he was in charge of land acquisition for the park district. I met him a couple of times, as well as one of his assistants, a young guy named Bob Doyle, who is now the general manager of the district.

At the top of the ridge, we had to choose between a couple mile loop trail to the right or  the continuation of the Hulet Hornbeck trail which follows the ridge to the left. The map showed the loop trail going pretty far down into a canyon meaning a lot more climbing, so I chose to go left. We went about a mile with lots of nice views before turning around and retracing our steps. We took the Rankin Park Trail back down off the ridge (the map shows two trails with the same name -- we took the western of the two). Near the bottom, we found a little path to the left along the upper edge of a cemetery that led us back to the staging area.

The locked-out-woman was back at her car, having got her car unlocked and finished her hike and run. She thanked me again for helping.

about 3 miles, 700 ft. climb

7-9-13 Tilden

Maureen and Cherry were off to their riding lessons, so with a free morning, I decided to finish off the Trails Challenge by hiking in Tilden. Maureen had expressed some interest in doing this hike, so I thought maybe I shouldn't go without her, but then I rationalized that we could always go back and do it again sometime. Since it was a Tuesday, I thought it would be OK to bring Darby, that we wouldn't run into too many dogs. I was wrong about that -- there were lots of dogs. There were several groups that were probably professional dog walkers because there was a single human with 5 or 6 dogs. Luckily, they all turned out to be quite well behaved, and Darby was OK with all but one who came a bit too close and elicited a growl from Darby.

The route started at Inspiration Point on Wildcat Canyon Road. We took the Curran Trail down a short ways and turned right on the Meadows Canyon Trail which winds along the hillside, descending into the canyon. At the bottom, near the Nature Area, we turned left on the Wildcat Gorge Trail, which follows Wildcat Creek upstream. The creek is pretty, flowing in a rocky bed. Midsummer in a dry year, there is not a lot of water, but more than most East Bay Creeks, which are totally dry now. High on the far bank of the creek is an impressive cliff of volcanic rock with several caves in it. We turned left again on the Curran Trail which brought us back up to our starting point.

I drove down to the Nature Area and went into the Visitor Center. I told the young woman at the counter about my hikes for the Trails Challenge, and she gave me my T-shirt. She said that I needed to mail in my completed log sheet to get a pin, but I don't really care about that. I hadn't realized that I could have got the T-shirt without completing the hikes, but I enjoyed doing them anyway.

3.3 miles, 600 ft. climb

7-7-13 Redwood

Maureen and Cherry were going to ride the horses, so I had a free day for hiking. There had been a heat wave all the past week with record-breaking temperatures, but it had finally cooled down. I thought it might still be pretty warm inland, so I decided on a nice shady hike in Redwood. I chose another Trails Challenge trail there, one that is rated "challenging". Since it was a Sunday, I knew there would be lots of people and dogs there, so I left Darby at home. As I was leaving, seeing his pleading eyes, I almost changed my mind, but it was good that I didn't because it turned out that there were lots of potential dog problems on the trail.

It was perfect weather for hiking, and it was very pleasant walking up the stream trail, enjoying the sunlight filtering down through the big redwoods. I was even thinking that maybe this hike was too easy and I should have chosen something more difficult, but that soon changed when I neared the head of the canyon and started up the Tres Sendas Trail, which climbs very steeply. I turned left onto the French Trail, which continues to climb steeply. This part of the park is a favorite, steep ravines with big redwoods and lush ferns, but it is hard on the legs. The trail climbs over high spur ridges and drops into hollows several times before it becomes a bit more gentle, contouring along about midway up the side of the canyon. Looking down, the steep slopes appear endless, the redwoods disappearing far below. I had expected to see lots of people on the Stream Trail, but I was surprised at the number that I passed on the French Trail, which takes some work to get to. I guess the nice weather brought them out. After what seemed like a long ways, I came to the Orchard Trail which headed very steeply down into the canyon to complete the loop.

I was surprised when I looked at the GPS app on my phone and it said I had covered 7.79 miles. The Trails Challenge booklet says it is 6.57 miles.

7.8 miles, 1250 ft. climb.

7-6-13 Martin Luther King Jr. Shoreline

Continuing with the Trails Challenge, I did the Ukraina Trail again on July 3. It was the same hike that I wrote about on May 6, except that now everything is dry and dead. I won't bother with a description except to say that it was a nice early morning walk that gave me a chance to try out my new camera. I replaced my lost camera with a Canon SLR which seems to be working out pretty good, although I've been using my iPhone more and more because it is so easy to carry.

On Saturday after the fourth, I told Maureen that I was thinking about doing another of the Challenge hikes and she wanted to go too. I had in mind one of the more challenging ones, but Maureen wanted an easy one, so we went to Martin Luther King Jr. Regional Shoreline. Our son, Chris, worked there a couple of years ago, so Maureen had been there to see him, but I hadn't been there since many years ago when there was not much there. We left Darby home because I thought dogs were not allowed, but that wasn't the case. It was just as well, because there were several other people there with dogs, and it was nice not to worry about potential problems.

The flat, paved trail makes a big loop with nice views of Arrowhead Marsh and San Leandro Bay -- the water that separates Alameda, Oakland and the Airport area. I was hoping to try out my new camera again to shoot some birds with a telephoto lens, but we didn't see many. Winter would be a better time of year for shorebirds. Anyway, it was a pleasant little walk and took a little less than an hour.

2.1 miles, level

6-27-13 Coyote Hills

I finally checked the Trails Challenge website again, and found the online booklet listing the hikes. I wanted to try one of them today. Since it was predicted to be hot, I wanted someplace close to the bay. I settled on Coyote Hills because I hadn't been there in a long time and I could combine the trip with one to a camera store in Palo Alto. I lost my camera a couple of weeks ago and want to start looking for a replacement. Actually to say I lost it is not quite accurate, because I think I know what happened to it. We were in the Big Sur area, and we stopped at Pfeiffer Beach. We didn't stay long because it was extremely windy. Darby took a dip in the lagoon, so when we got back to the car, I think I set my camera on the car roof to free my hands to dry him off. I must have forgotten it when we drove off.

As I was getting ready to leave for Coyote Hills, Maureen said she thought dogs were not allowed there. I looked it up again on the Trails Challenge information, and it showed that dogs were OK. We parked at the visitor center and walked back on the trail beside the road to the entrance kiosk. At the start of the Chochenyo Trail, there was a sign showing no dogs. There happened to be a park employee stopped there, so I asked him about it. He said if the Trails Challenge booklet says dogs are OK, then maybe it is OK, and he would talk to his manager. So we set out on the trail, keeping Darby on the leash. After a short ways, I could see a bunch of white birds on a marsh island. We got a closer look and they were white pelicans, a big flock huddled close together. We looped around the marsh area without getting into trouble for having a dog, and got on the paved bike trail that circles the hills, the Bayview Trail. It is a nearly level trail, so covering the mileage is quite easy. It was warm but not too uncomfortable, with a little breeze off the bay. It was a very clear day and it was nice to be out in the dry grass hills with expansive views all around. Darby kept looking at the water in salt ponds a short distance below, and I finally put him on the leash again to keep him from running down there. There's no way he would know that the water is no good. Around the south end of the trail, we found a water fountain, and he filled up.

It turned out to be a nice way to spend a morning, and I got to go look at a few cameras too. I didn't intend to buy anything today, I just wanted to get a salesman's opinion on what to look for. I'm going to do more research online before I decide.

4.9 miles, 300 ft. climb

6-21-13 Sunol

A couple of months ago I heard about the Regional Parks Trails Challenge. It didn't sound like my kind of thing except for the promise of a free t-shirt. I could use a new t-shirt, so I checked it out. At first I was just curious about what trails they listed for the challenge, but the website won't let you see the trails until you register and wait a couple of weeks. I thought that maybe instead of waiting, I could go to one of the part visitor centers listed and ask someone about it. One of them was at Sunol, so I decided to go there and I might as well do a hike while I was there. I thought maybe it wouldn't be open on a weekday, so I looked at the EBRDPD website and all it said was that it was closed on Thanksgiving.

So I arrive at the park, and the visitor center is all locked up and there's no one around. I had been thinking of hiking to Maguire Peaks, a pretty long hike, but it was a hot day, and I didn't feel that energetic. Instead, Darby and I hiked the Canyon View Trail to Little Yosemite. It starts off with a steep climb for the first half mile or so, and we were soon quite hot and tired. As the trail levels off and bends around the shoulder of a ridge, we could hear running water in the canyon below, and Darby kept veering off the trail and trying to head for it down some very steep slopes. I put him on the leash to keep him with me and we made it down to the trail junction at Little Yosemite. We could hear some young guys down among the rocks, spashing around and making a lot of noise. I took Darby down to the water a little below them. He enjoyed wading around and drinking his fill.

I had intended to finish the hike by going down the gravel road, but we found a fence across it and a sign saying that the area was closed because of the construction of the new Calaveras Dam. So we reluctantly headed back the way we had come, climbing a couple hundred feet back up out of the canyon. We passed a young couple, and as we passed the woman said "Mr. Newey!". It was Marissa, a friend who we had known for quite a few years because of our horses. I didn't expect to see her on foot. She is a very talented young woman who is home for summer vacation while going to veterinary school in Dublin, Ireland. On our way back we passed several other groups of young people who appeared to be on their way to play in the water. There were a couple of teen-age girls hiking in skimpy bikinis. I didn't tell them that although the creek was running, there wasn't a whole lot of water there.

3.5 miles, 800 ft. climb

6-10-13 Anthony Chabot

After a very hot Saturday, it cooled down Sunday, and by today, Monday it was quite cool and cloudy. On the morning news, they even said there may be thundershowers today. I didn't sound too promising for a hike, but I wanted to get out a bit anyway. As it turned out, the weather got nicer in the afternoon. So I finally got myself moving about 11:30, and Darby and I drove to Anthony Chabot and parked at Bort Meadow.

I had a couple of ideas. One was to hike the Macdonald Trail north, which is part of the Skyline Trail and Bay Area Ridge Trail. The other was to check out The Grass Valley Trail and Ranch Trail, which I hadn't been on. As we started out, I was still undecided, but after a few feet up the Macdonald Trail, I changed my mind and we went down the Grass Valley Trail instead. I started a GPS track on my phone because I suspected that the trail alignment shown on the park map was not correct. After walking about a mile up the valley, I stopped to take a photo with the phone. Apparently doing that stopped the GPS track, but I didn't find that out until later. Still, I can see that the map is not accurate because it shows the trail going high on the east side of the valley, while in reality it stays close to the creek until it crosses it. Then it switchbacks steeply up the west side hill.

We turned left on the Goldenrod Trail, a fire road that winds along up and down just below the crest of the ridge. Although it is quite near the houses along Skyline Blvd, they are mostly out of sight, and it feels more remote than it is. After a while we came to a junction with the Buckeye Trail, which could have taken us back to Bort Meadow, but I wasn't ready to head back yet. After quite a bit more winding in and out and up and down, we came to the Chabot Equestrian Center. As a horse owner, I was a bit curious about these facilities, and it looked like a pretty nice setup. We continued on along the trail, expecting to see another trail heading down toward Bort Meadow. We had probably gone about another half mile when I began to get the feeling that we had missed that trail. I stopped and looked at my position on Google maps on my phone, and although it doesn't show the trails, I was pretty sure that we had missed it. We backtracked to the equestrian center, and I asked directions of a woman leading her horse. She pointed out the trail which leaves right from the driveway of the center without any signs identifying it. So we headed down the Horseshoe Trail, and soon we were back in the valley and back to our car.

Since the GPS quit on my phone, I don't have any measurement of distance or elevation, but I would guess it was about 5 miles, 600-800 ft. of climbing.

5-30-13 Anthony Chabot

It was another day for hiking with Darby. I didn't feel like anything very hard or far to drive, so we went to the Marciel Gate in Anthony Chabot Regional Park. As is often the case, it turned out to be a harder hike than I expected. I hadn't seen much of the area south and west of Marciel Gate for a long time, so I had a rough idea of making a loop there.

The morning fog had burned off, but it was still cool as we started off along the Redtail Trail, then down to the Brandon Trail. As we headed generally south, we began to hear gunshots, and I realized that the trail passes near the rifle range. Darby was getting more and more upset, so I put him on the leash because I was afraid that he would run off. For a few minutes, the sounds were quite loud, and he was pulling as hard as he could to get away from it. I felt sorry to be putting him through this, but I knew that we would soon be past it. A few minutes later, the sounds were fading away, and Darby calmed down and went back to doing his normal dog stuff. We turned right on the Two Rock Trail, and followed it down to the group camp areas. From the Lookout Ridge Camp, we found a path down to the Columbine Trail, and followed it to the right. We were soon down in the willows along the dry creek bed, and then climbing along the west side of the canyon of Grass Valley. After a mile or so, we branched right onto the Cascade Trail, which contoured along the shady hillside a couple hundred feet above the creek. The last time I was on this trail was probably at least 35 years ago, and I remembered it following the creek and passing some nice little waterfalls. On the trail today, at one point, I could see down a hundred feet or so to the creek bed and lots of large rocks. A family of raccoons just happened to be walking by down there. About a quarter mile further, I came to the end of the Cascade Trail at the stone bridge. From there it was a familiar climb, but a hard one, back up the Cottontail Trail to the trailhead.

When I got home, I looked up the Cascade Trail in my book, and saw the picture of the waterfall that I had taken along the trail. What happened? I figure either the park district realigned the trail sometime years ago, or else I had missed the actual trail when I thought I had been following it. The latter seems more likely. In the 70's, the trails in this part of the park were not much more than deer trails. No signs, overgrown, and hard to follow.

So, in spite of the traumatic sounds of gunshots, it turned out to be a very pleasant little hike that turned out to be a bit longer than I expected, but quite enjoyable anyway.

6.2 miles -- 1200 ft. of climbing.