Over 500 miles of trails

2006-08-05T19:02:00.000-07:00

Hey, guess what? That last post that I just posted, just the other day, was my 30th post. Of course, my friend tjic easily posts 30x per week, but his posts are a lot shorter, usually (though his blogging achievements are in fact prodigious...let's not mince words). But I have to hike every time I post, so that should count for something (though I've got a few posts that don't actually have any hikes in them, so 1 post <> 1 hike). I feel like I'm making some progress on this project, which is a good feeling.

So this seems to be a good time to do some descriptive statistics. Including the hike that I'm about to blog, I've done 28 hikes so far for this project. Average hike length is 7.375 miles, and I've hiked a total of 206.5 miles. If there are indeed 500 miles of trails in Marin, I'm about 40% of the way there. But, this doesn't take into account the fact that I've done some out-and-back hikes, so every mile I've hiked hasn't been a new mile. Combining that fact with just eyeballing my maps to see how much ground I've covered, I'd say that I'm more like 30% of the way there. I've been working on this project since last November, so 10 months. At this rate I should be finished in another 24 months. Since I graduate from my library program in 21 months, and since Victor and I don't plan on sticking around for very long after that, I shall have to pick up the pace a wee bit, but my average hike length is getting longer (average hike length for 1st 14 hikes = 6.08 mi., for last 14 hikes = 8.67 mi., 7.83 mi. without the 19.6 mile hike outlier), so that will probably help out.

Enough with the facts and figures. That is not what you came here for.

Last Sunday (7/30/06) I hiked up to the top of Mt. Tam, which is the highest point in Marin County at a towering 2,571'. I started at the parking area across from the Mountain Home Inn, which I arrived at before 9am, as per the instructions in _Hiking Marin_, and found to be nearly deserted (bonus). Fog still lay over the peak and crept in tendrils down the various drainages, but it cleared up within an hour. I started up Hogback Fire Road. The Throckmorton Ridge Fire Station is right there, and they were testing their equipment. As I hiked up the ridge, I was serenaded by 'Woot-woot!' and 'WAAAAUUUUGGGH', and by loudspeaker messages, 'PULL TO YOUR RIGHT. TO YOUR RIGHT.' I hopped onto the Matt Davis trail, which after .7 miles or so intersected the Nora Trail, which climbed to the West Point Inn, where I stopped for an early-hike snack at the picnic tables out front. The inn is apparently historic and yadda yadda blah blah blah. Took the Rock Springs trail over to the Mountain Theatre, where they just finished up with the 2006 run of their summer play. They did _Fiddler on the Roof_. Next year they're doing _Hair_. The outdoor theatre is a steep semicircle of (rather uncomfortable looking) stone steps for the audience to sit on... I guess folks bring cushions and such. It's steep enough so that it looks like everyone would get a pretty good view of the stage below, as well as a lovely view of the Bay and such beyond. From here I crossed Ridgecrest Blvd and hiked up the Lagunitas-Rock Spring Fire Rd to Rifle Camp. The Fire Road continues past Rifle Camp all the way back down to Lake Lagunitas, and it's pretty much the only trail I have left to hike in that area south of the Lagunitas-Bon Tempe Lake region. Here's a map so you know what I'm talking about... the area I'm referring to is in the lower right quadrant of the map.

So from Rifle Camp I joined up with the Northside trail, which contours along about 300-500' below the West and Middle Peaks of Mt. Tam, and took that clear across to the Eldridge Grade, right below the East Peak of Mt. Tam, which is the highest one. I plopped down in the shade for a snack, and as I was eating a man came up another trail and was settling in to take a break right across the trail from me, completely oblivious to my presence. 'Hello,' I said, and then noticed that he had earphones on, and so didn't hear me. Right at that moment, he looked up, noticed me about 8 feet away from him, and may have shat his pants right then and there. This has happened to me many times before. If people can't see a whole damn hiker within spitting distance, I wonder how many birds, mammals, and cool plants they're missing along the way? I think a lot of folks that I encounter along the trails are out for exercise rather than 'nature study', which may also explain the seeming preponderance of mountain bikers over hikers. I'm happy to get the exercise, too, but there's a reason why I'm hiking rather than using a treadmill, and that's to see things. But I guess there's also a reason why I'm a biologist rather than an investment banker, and I suppose I must make allowances for the fact that others have different interests than myself. It's not their fault their interests are lame.

Continuing on the obliviousness theme, as I climbed Eldridge Grade toward the top (mind you this is a very busy trail, with *lots* of bikers and hikers) I came upon a man getting ready to unzip and pee, right on the trail, not even a modest 10 feet into the trees or anything. I whistled to let him know that I was coming up so that he could wait till I went by, but apparently he didn't hear me. He whipped it out, and as I was stopping and turning around to examine the scenery in the *other* direction, his wife spotted me and cried out, "There's someone there!" But he continued peeing anyway... I guess it's hard to stop once you start, and judging by the duration he had to go pretty badly. I loitered around, eyes averted, a modest distance away until I deemed it safe, then continued up the trail. As I passed the couple, I said, 'Don't worry. I didn't see anything but stream.' which the woman was amused by, but which the guy didn't seem to appreciate very much. He couldn't even look at me as he went by. Oh well.

Eldridge Grade comes out on Ridgecrest Blvd. right below the parking area for the peak, so it's necessary to walk next to Ridgecrest to get up to the peak area. The peak itself is attainable from the parking area via a .3mile, decently steep trail. This trail ramifies into a half dozen or so little trails climbing all around the peak. You can see pretty much everything from the top. It wasn't a particularly clear day but I could see all the way across to East Bay, north to Petaluma, west to the ocean. The Golden Gate Bridge was partially obscured by the Marin Headlands, but you could just see one of the towers peaking over the tops of the hills.

Took the Verna Dunshee trail, which circumnavigates the peak about 150' below the top, to the Temelpa trail, which switchbacks steeply down the east side of the mountain, to the Vic Haun trail to the Hoo-Koo-E-Koo trail. This route back to the Mountain Home Inn was probably only around 3 miles down, as opposed to the 9 miles or so I took to climb up to the top. As you can imagine, it was a bit hard on the knees. I was feeling beat up by the time I got back to the truck.

2006-08-03T20:10:00.000-07:00

Arty, Arty. I love my dog. There, I've said it. Arty came with me on a short hike last Saturday, his first since his paw injuries of a couple of weeks ago. It was good to have his company on the trail again. It wasn't a hot day, but it was sunny, and I was continually feeling the trail to experience what he was experiencing. The trail was pretty cool, and the air temperature was perhaps only 75 degrees or so, but Arty nonetheless seemed uncomfortably hot on this hike. His paws were fine, but he bopped from shady spot to shady spot along the trail, and was in extreme panting mode, you know, when the dog's eyes are nearly shut because the tongue is out so far? I guess it was just the black dog on a midday hike syndrome. He seemed to enjoy himself, though I on the other hand was pretty much wholly preoccupied with observing his condition throughout the hike. I still had a good time too, though.

We hiked at the Loma Alta Open Space Preserve, just 5-10 minute drive from my house. There are a couple of access points; one is right on Sir Francis Drake, but the one that seemed preferable to me was up Glen Drive near White Hill School... the access trail seems nicer, and you can park in the shade. We hiked up the Smith Ridge Fire Road to the edge of the Open Space Land... a decent climb through open oak woodland with some nice local views of Mt. Tam et al. The trail continues on private land on an easement all the way over to Lucas Valley Road, then crosses Lucas Valley Road, skirts Skywalker Ranch(George Lucas' place, for the out-of-staters) and hooks into the Loma Vista Open Space preserve all the way up by Novato. I'm pretty excited to do a shuttle hike, or just get dropped off at one end and picked up at the other, to hike this trail... it feels like you traverse a fair bit of Marin County in doing so, though it's probably only 10 - 12 miles or so. It's a project for this fall. Anyway, we backtracked to Gunshot Fire Road, and took a breather under a big spreading oak. I poured water on Arty's back and neck and waited for his temperature to go down, as we had just completed a particularly sunny stretch. Fortunately the rest of the hike had more shady spots. We continued down Gunshot Fire Road into a canyon-y, oaky area and came out on Pipeline Road. There's a waterfall here during times when it's not bone-dry and the middle of the damn summer... it looked like it would have been pretty nice. Pipeline Road took us back to the truck, though not before first stopping at a conveniently placed mud puddle for a refreshing high-noon wallow. Arty, dear to my heart that he is, got to ride back in the front seat despite his mud-encrusted exterior. All told the hike was a brisk and pleasant 4.7 miles with a 1200' elevation change.

2006-08-02T18:19:00.000-07:00

This hike is from last Thursday, 7/27. I'm starting to run out of hikes at Point Reyes National Seashore- I think I have maybe three or four major hikes left there, and a couple of out and back to the beach hikes still to complete.

Thursday was my short day at work. We had a meeting that day that was productive overall but that was marred by what I perceived as foolishness on the part of one of my coworkers- he was making assertions based on his own wishful thinking rather than on the available facts. I called him on it, probably a little too sharply. My other coworkers perhaps didn't think much of it, but it stayed with me the whole time I was hiking and I kept replaying it in my brain (I'm unused to confrontation... can you tell?). I thought about it so much that I gave myself a headache. It was one of those times that it would have been nice to just have an off-switch in my head. Grrr.

The hike was nice despite my preoccupation. I started from the Sky trailhead, hiked down the Fire Lane Trail, down to Coast Camp, and back up the Laguna Trail,which goes by the youth hostel and some sort of environmental education center. It was a greyish day on the coast, which was quite welcome after all the damn heat we'd been having. The hike was 8.2 miles, all told.

Young California quail are out in force. I probably saw six or seven families on the trail between Coast Camp and the youth hostel. The quail are a lot easier to get close to when they've got babies around.

I also ran into a group of six or so 14-year-olds that appeared to be backpacking on their own. They were doing really well... they seemed like they were keeping a good pace, their packs looked to be in good order, and all the kids seemed like they were happy to be there. The lead kids shouted back to the kids coming up behind that someone was on the trail and that they should stand aside. Nice to see manners in the young folk. I was thinking how cool it was that these kids were entrusted with the responsibility to do an overnight trip on their own, but then a mile or so down the path I ran into the rest of their group, which had adult supervisors. Oh well. If I ever have a kid I think I would like to send it on solo or small group (with other kids) overnights at a youngish age (preteen to teen), if that's something that they were into. I think kids in a lot of cases can handle more responsibility than we give them, and develop responsibility by being entrusted with things.

I made a cake for my boss' birthday, which we are celebrating at work tomorrow. Now I am going to go frost it. There are two more hikes in the hopper... I will report upon them soon.

2006-07-08T13:59:00.000-07:00

So if my hike of two weeks ago was annoying and uncomfortable, my hike of yesterday was disastrous. Arty and I are both very sad today: Arty because of his two bandaged front paws, and I because my carelessness resulted in injury to my dog.

The hike started out well. I had a long (~12 miles), interesting route planned, in an area that I wasn't really familiar with yet. I started out from the Azalea Hill trailhead on the Fairfax-Bolinas road, which descended very steeply to the Bon Tempe Road (though it's on the map, I don't think it's an official trail, given its grade). I'd be returning via the same route, and I remember thinking as I picked my way down, "This is going to be a bitch to climb back up after 12 miles of hiking!" And I was right.

We took the Bon Tempe Road across the dam (spillway # 718, in case you're interested) that creates Bon Tempe Lake, which is part of a chain of artificial lakes within the Mt. Tamalpais watershed (water from which, I think, eventually drains into Lagunitas Creek and out Tomales Bay, which partially defines the peninsula-like landmass that is Point Reyes National Seashore). The whole is managed by the Marin Municipal Water District, which also maintains trails through the protected lands associated with the watershed so that you and I can recreate in the outdoors *and* enjoy clean drinking water. I found pennyroyal for the first time along the road leading up to the dam, in a marshy spot. Pennyroyal, introduced from Europe, is in the mint family (Lamiaceae) and is actually minty-- used for teas and such. There's another mint that grows almost ubiquitously around here (it's in people's yards a lot) that isn't minty, and try as I might I can't identify it, though I've got a key to plants in the Bay Area. So that's a bit frustrating.

From the dam we hiked up the Rocky Ridge Fire Road, which climbs around 500 feet or so and then levels off to follow (wait for it) a rocky ridge. We encountered a peculiar-acting coyote along the road. Most of the coyotes I've encountered during the daytime have been pretty shy and retiring, but this one was yowling and yipping away in a manner that seemed almost aggressive. S/he was standing uphill from us around 50 meters away, and at first I thought s/he was trapped because she was just staying in one spot and yammering, but then I saw her take a few steps. Arty was completely freaked out. I leashed him as a precautionary measure but there wasn't really any need... he stayed as close as he could while we passed her. We gained the top of the ridge and were rewarded with views of Mt. Tam, the lake, etc.

Took Stocking Trail back down into Doug fir forest with pockets of redwoods here and there, then joined the Kent Trail (I had actually been on a .9 mile stretch of this trail before for my Cataract Creek hike) which descended to skirt the southeastern shore of Alpine Lake. Took this trail back to the dam, where I decided to continue on to circumnavigate Bon Tempe Lake rather than taking the short route back.

Arty was still in good shape at this point... we had hiked 7-8 miles. And, he enjoyed much of the hike along the southern shore of the lake. However, the northern shore was much more exposed to sun, and more heavily used by fishermen and picnickers. So, I clipped him back onto his leash, which (I didn't think of at the time) had the effect of forcing him to walk on the hot, rocky trail, rather than in the cooler grasses where he probably would have walked had he been off-leash. By the time we finished our circuit of the lake, he was still walking ok, but occasionally licking his feet and, sometimes, lying down in the shade and demonstrating reluctance to get up. I checked his feet, because he was behaving as if he had a burr caught in one of his paws, but couldn't see anything. By the time I realized that his feet were getting burnt by the trail, we were back at Azalea Hill and ready to start our climb to the trailhead. I released him from his leash so that he could at least seek out cooler surfaces, but at that point I think the damage had been done. He was still walking alright, but was starting to show some discomfort. We struggled back up the hill, resting frequently, and probably would have presented a rather pathetic sight had we encountered anyone. I was starting to get a little dizzy from the heat and exertion, and, in my heat-muddled stupor, left his leash somewhere along the way. I found out later that the high was 93 degrees yesterday, and we were both suffering pretty badly by the time we got back to the truck. We hopped in, I blasted the aircon, and we thankfully drove home.

I cleaned Arty's feet and examined them more closely and discovered that he had sizeable blisters on each of the 'palm' pads of his front paws. They weren't ulcerated, but he couldn't walk more than three or four steps before collapsing onto his knees and lying down. I wrapped his feet in gauze and covered this with a pair of nylons (the first time I've used those in years...). The bandages seem to allow him to walk without too much pain (he doesn't collapse) but he doesn't like them and I have to prevent him from taking them off. Today Arty's taking short trips to pee and drink water but other than that he's just lying around looking sad.

So in the future I must, must, must, 1) check the weather before hiking with Arty, and leave him home if it's going to be too hot 2) hike with him in places that are adequately shaded and 3) leave him off leash or walk him in the grass if we end up in a similar situation again.

2006-07-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

Two Saturdays ago Arty and I went on an eight-mile-or-so hike from Deer Park in Fairfax, only three-or-so miles of which I actually enjoyed, unfortunately, due to various annoyances, my own bad 'headspace', and Arty's discomfort. Started out earlyish, at around 8:30 or so, and hiked up the Ridge Trail, which is a secondary trail heading southwest out of Deer Park, marked on the map but not signed. Annoyance number one was that this trail, as a consequence of its infrequent use and maintenance, has a lot of vegetation crowding it, which spiders apparently find convenient to string webs across. At face level. Combine this with the fact that the trail starts with a rather steep climb, and that it was already promising to be quite hot out that day, and the result is a cobwebby, nasty, sweaty mess, not to mention the insistent notion that there were spiders crawling around in my hair (I'd call it paranoia but I don't think the notion was at all an unreasonable one). Ugggh.

My route started getting a bit convoluted after that, a result of taking a non-direct path to stay on hiking trails I've never hiked before. Let's see... took a short spur off Ridge to the Canyon Trail, which hooked into the Concrete Pipeline Fire Road after .2 miles. Was informed by a sign that Concrete Pipeline Road was closed for repair, which was annoyance number 2, but this turned out not to be the case, so the annoyance was short-lived. Ever increasing crowds of people (no more Deer Park on the weekend for me- I think I've made this resolution before, but maybe this time I'll stick to it) rapidly took their place as annoyance number 3 and remained as such for most of the rest of the hike. Point six miles on Concrete Pipeline to the Five Corners Junction, where we picked up Shaver Grade. Stuck with that for .4 miles to the Logging Trail, another unsigned, unmaintained trail that was nonetheless marked on the map. Annoyance number 4 took the form of an invasive species of plant called French Broom, which was over-growing the trail to the point that I felt like I was swimming in the stuff at times. Fortunately the Logging Trail was another short spell: .4 miles and I was out of the jungle to rejoin Concrete Pipeline Fire Road. Stayed on that for a whopping .7 miles and then picked up Madrone Trail for .2 to Fish Gulch for .3 to wind up at Phoenix Junction on the westernmost point of Phoenix Lake.

Taking the mysteriously named "Phoenix Ord Trail" (or so it is called on my map), Arty and I hiked around the south side of the lake, which is shaped like a crescent with the concave side pointing southwest, and back around the east side of the lake. Despite the continuing onslaught of masses of people, I was finally starting to relax into the hike, and the lake is certainly pleasant, picturesque, and replete with bathing opportunities for Arty. We picked up the Yolanda Trail in the middle of the convex, northeastern side of the crescent. This is where the hike started becoming a trial for Arty, as the Yolanda trail climbed a relatively exposed ridge and by this time it was pretty much high noon, an uncomfortable, shadeless time for a black dog. We found some remnant pools of water in dried-up stream beds for him to refresh himself in, but overall he was not having a great time. When we reached Six Points junction after about 1.5 miles, I took the shortest path back to the trailhead rather than the more roundabout route that would have taken in Mt. Baldy, as I had previously planned. Both Arty and I were happy to finally reach the truck at the end of the hike. Bummer.

2006-06-20T20:55:00.000-07:00

Can I boast about something? I have to admit, I feel pretty proud of myself- hopefully I'm not struck down by some higher power for my hubris. It might not sound like much, compared to the accomplishments of marathoners and iron-person competitors. But for someone to whom feats of physical endurance have never come naturally, I feel that hiking 19.6 miles in 9.5 hours is pretty good.

I went on Sunday, to the Point Reyes National Seashore, and when I started I was thinking the route I had picked out was maybe, 16 or 17 miles, which is still further than I've hiked before. I quickly figured out that it would be longer than I had planned, but I had plenty of food, and, well, almost plenty of water, and I figured I'd just go ahead as planned anyway.

I started on the Five Brooks trailhead on Rte 1 and hiked the Stewart Trail up and over the ridge to the Wildcat Camp on the coast. That was the first 6.7 miles. I then proceeded south along the Ocean Lake Loop Trail (which features a great view point of the coast) to the Coast Trail, past Alamere Falls (at which point I took a .8 mile side trip to see the actual falls. There were naked guys there.) and Bass Lake to the junction with the Lake Ranch Trail, which was the previous northernmost point to which I had hiked the Coast Trail. Hiked back along the Coast Trail, then joined up with the Old Out Trail at 13.2 miles (including the side trip), took that back up to the Alamea Trail, which joined up with the Ridge Trail, merging with the Bolema Trail to the Olema Valley Trail and then back to the trailhead.

And then the aftermath. I was feeling very peppy for the first 13-14 miles or so, but the last six miles took their toll. When I got home at 7pm I called up my dad for Father's Day, showered, and then hopped straight into bed. I woke up with some strange aches and pains. I was sensible enough to stretch out all the obvious muscle groups during and after the hike, so my legs were ok. My butt was sore, which wasn't entirely surprising. But my ribs? My neck? And, of course, it turns out that a single application of sunblock is not near enough to get you through 9.5 sweaty hours. I guess I could have told you that beforehand if I'd thunk it through, but I'm a bit lobstery now.

I think the best thing I figured out was that taking a break, stretching, and then lying down with your feet elevated makes a big difference in staving off tiredness. Of course I'd read this before but never really tried it out. It was kind of nice.

2006-06-19T20:43:00.000-07:00

On Saturday (June 17)Arty and I hiked the Dixon Ridge Trail, just a couple of miles in, across the private land, to the public land, then back to the private land again.

It's a pleasant hike, passing in and out of shady areas and sunny areas, views and glades. There are a lot of birds. I saw juvenile chestnut backed chickadees and Swainson's thrushes. In fact, it's a unique place, kind of like all the other unique places I've been to so far on this project.

It's all the more unique because of a one-quarter mile section of the trail that's at the center of a conflict pitting the owners of the land it traverses against a group of citizen-recreationalists from San Geronimo Valley and beyond. The trail segment in question is currently accessible to the public. However, the landowners hope to preserve their right to restrict public access for the sake of building their dreamt-of Pinot Noir vineyard, which would be negatively impacted by heavy public use. A local group of citizens is trying to convince/cajole/coerce them into granting an easement to guarantee continued access to the trail segment. If that fails, apparently it goes to the courts. According to this citizen group's website, a proposal to reroute the trail is unacceptable, as the proposed reroute would traverse an area prone to landslides and would cost the county too much money to maintain (yes, stealing the land would be cheaper- they do have a point there). For more info, check out this story in The Point Reyes Light.

I'm kind of getting the sense that I'm taking the unpopular side by saying this, but my sympathies still reside with the landowners, as I've stated in a previous post. This is what I came up with while I was hiking the trail:

1) How many other counties in the United States with comparable population densities can boast the sheer acreage of publicly owned land that Marin County, California does? Marin County Open Space District owns 33 separate parcels all available for your outdoor recreating pleasure. Then, there's the Point Reyes National Seashore, Samuel P. Taylor State Park, the Marin Municipal Water District, Mt. Tamalpais State Park, the Golden Gate National Recreational Area, Mount Tamalpais State Park, Muir Woods National Monument... am I forgetting anything? With this embarrassment of riches, it seems almost gauche to try to seize private land for the purpose of... *MORE* outdoor recreation!

2) I'd prefer to hike where I'm welcome, just as I'd prefer to enter someone's home with an invitation to dinner rather than a search warrant, and just as I'd prefer to hire a taxi wherever I'm going rather than hijack someone's car. I'm glad that the neighbors of these folks are willing to grant me access to their land, and I'll gladly take them up on it if they'll have me. But if the landowners in question want to build a winery rather than have a hiking trail on their land, then I don't particularly want to force my way into their party. It'd just feel awkward, don't you think?

3) The house I grew up in used to be beige. I've driven by it recently, and it's now lavender, with purple shutters. I kind of liked it better when it was beige, but I don't feel entitled to have the house taken away from its current owner because his color choice is not to my liking. If I really wanted it to remain beige, then I shouldn't have sold it in the first place. If this trail is something that needs to persist in its original state, why didn't Marin County Open Space District buy it to insure its continuance at the time it was for sale, knowing that the purchaser would have no legal obligation to do so? In the above referenced article, County Supervisor Kinsey is quoted as saying, "In the same way that farmers get upset when the public tries to put a trail across their ranches, the public gets upset when farmers try to put a ranch on their trail.” Well, this seems kind of obvious to me, but maybe it needs pointing out: if the public doesn't want a ranch on their trail, then they need to make sure their trail doesn't get bought by a rancher.

2006-06-11T14:19:00.000-07:00

Relief from the bare austerity of prose. Here are some pictures of the Estero Trail hike described in the 6/4/2006 post, courtesy of my talented friend Kerry.

2006-06-11T13:26:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a little hiking break this weekend. Was starting to feel burnt out, and as if I was obliged to hike.

I did hike on Tuesday. Solo (Arty's not allowed in Samuel P. Taylor), to the top of Mt. Barnabe at Samuel P. Taylor State Park. A 'solo ascent of Mt. Barnabe' sounds all impressive, but really it's only 1466' in elev., and it was named after a pet mule, to boot. So really it's no big deal. I took the easy way up, the hard way down. Starting from the pullout across Sir Francis Drake Blvd. from Devil's Gulch, I walked up said gulch to the bridge next to the giant redwood, which was evidently spared whenever the area was logged. The trail intersects here with both the Bill trail and the Barnabe Fire Road. The Bill trail was built to bring one most of the way up Mt. Barnabe at no greater than a 5% grade. So it was a longish (~3 miles) but very mellow climb through bay forest. Along the way you can (and I did) take in Stairstep Falls in a short side-trip. At this time of year it's a little puny, and it just so happens that a tree recently has fallen down the waterfall and become lodged there, blocking to view to a large degree. If you visualize hard enough you can see that it would be an impressive sight, at the right time of year, with no tree.

The way up was pleasantly windy (with a long 'i') and twisty and switchbacky, with the five percent grade making you work *just* enough. Nearing the top, you are unceremoniously dumped upon the Barnabe Fire Road, which has no limits set upon steepness. For the last .5 mi or so to the top of Mt. Barnabe it's a bit of a slog. But the views are worth it. On a rare, perfectly clear day, I would imagine you could simultaneously see the Ocean on one side and the Bay on the other. As it was, I could see Tomales Bay on one side and San Rafael on the other. And to the south, I could see Kent Lake and a great view of the spillway of Peters Dam. It was very windy (with a short 'i') and I hunkered in the shelter of a rock outcrop, enjoying some lunch on an impromptu board-bench that someone had rigged up. I thought about my friend Jen's cat, named Barnaby (different spelling but I always called him Barn-Barn, anyway), who died maybe about a year ago, or so. I've been feeling very tender toward the idea of pets dying. I think, with Victor gone, I lean on Arty a lot more and the thought of him dying seems especially poignant right now. I also saw 'The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill' on Friday night, which just made me think all the more about animals dying, and about animals in general as individuals with their own wills. I wish pet lifespans more closely approximated human lifespans. I saw a story, recently, about a tortoise that's 175 years old, the oldest known living animal. The tortoise may have belonged to Darwin, but this bit of legend is perhaps apocryphal (though you have to read a little ways before that's admitted in the story).

Anyway, enough of that tangent. After I finished my reflections upon Barn-Barn, I descended via the Barnabe Fire Road, from which I continued to enjoy good views much of the way down, but which was knee-poundingly steep. Maybe in the future I'll start taking the steep way up, to better preserve my knees. My friend Lisa, who coincidentally had done a hike up Mt. Barnabe just two days previous, reports that the other path to the top, the Ridge Fire Road, is similarly steep. I'll probably hike up that when it comes time to do it, and back down the gentle Bill trail.

2006-06-04T16:45:00.000-07:00

Which brings us to the hike I went on today. I had big plans last night... I was going to hike to the top of Mt. Tam (elev. 2517') from a starting point of 200' elevation, up this really steep trail. And, I was going to wake up at 5 in the morning to do it. Needless to say, this didn't happen. I woke up at 5 and it was all grey and the bed was warm... and then I woke up for real at 7, which would have been perfectly sufficient in terms of leaving enough time, but I also wanted to beat the crowds since I was going to bring Arty on that hike. So I chose another hike, less popular, closer to home, easier, and still Arty friendly.

Starting from the Shafter Bridge just east of Samuel P. Taylor State Park, I hiked up the Peters Dam Fire Road to the dam that stops up Kent Lake. Continuing on the south/east shore of Kent Lake, the fire road circles round and climbs the steep slope next to the lakeshore, then drops back down to the lake's edge after about 2.3 miles. Arty and I paused here to contemplate all the dead trees poking up out of Kent Lake, then continued onward and upward till our trail met the San Geronimo Ridge Trail. This trail is quite rollercoastery and therefore popular with mountain bikers, so I had Arty on leash most of the way. After hiking the trail for about a mile, there's a little side trail that goes off to a great vista point of the lake below. Someone had carried in a couple of boards from which they fashioned impromptu benches, and it was a comfortable place to sit and look across the valley to Pine Mountain Ridge and Bolinas Ridge beyond. Back on the ridge trail, I kept going east until I hit the intersection with Hunt Camp Fire Road. I had previously hiked the ridge trail as far west as this; with today's hike it looks like I've hiked the entire San Geronimo Ridge Trail.

Poor Arty was patiently on leash up until this point with nary a mountain biker in sight. I was just considering releasing him when the onslaught began. There seems to be a local mountain biking club that wears orange and purple jerseys, and it seems to have quite a large membership. I encountered around 20 of them today, interspersed with mountain bikers that were apparently unaffiliated. They were all courteous and friendly enough, except for one orange and purple guy who hurtled by doing around 35mph. Arty was on leash but in the middle of the trail, and the guy was going so fast that I barely had time to yank him out of the way. The biker had a clear line of sight to us at the bottom of the hill and could have braked but clearly just didn't want to. I indulged in violent retribution fantasies for a little while until I regained my composure.

Backtracked to the junction with Peters Dam Fire Road, then took the Ridge Trail down the last 1.2 miles back to the trailhead. I think it was around 7 - 7.5 miles, all told.

2006-06-04T16:17:00.000-07:00

My daypack had deteriorated to an embarrassing state, but it is hopefully now restored to respectability. Today, before my hike, I carefully applied deodorant. However, approximately 3 miles in, I noticed that I smelled like a horse. Not just any horse, but maybe how Man o' War would have smelled after a particularly close race for the Belmont Stakes. This has happened on my last few hikes. The problem is that the straps on my pack had become inoculated with my armpit bacteria over the course of successive hikes, such that the bacteria are reactivated by my body heat/sweat each time I hike and party down in some sort of bacteria smell-o-thon.

After my hike today I applied a thick paste of baking soda + water to the regions of the backpack that are most intimate with my armpits. After carefully checking all compartments (I found a really old pack of gum!) I laundered the entire pack on gentle cycle and it is now drying on my front porch. We shall see.

2006-06-04T15:30:00.000-07:00

I went on a hike on Friday with my friend Kerry. He took lots of pictures that I will insert into this post, once he gets over here to upload them to my computer. Meantime, here's the highlights: We hiked the Estero Trail to the Sunset Beach trail at the Point Reyes National Seashore; it's an out-n-back rather than a loop. This hike is choc-o-bloc full of interesting sights, though it's a very popular trail and I'm sure most of the folks around here have already hiked it. Early on you come to a grove of bishop pines of around 10 hectares, just sort of hanging out there amid all that coastal scrub. This grove seems to be a haven for all sorts of good birds: we saw/heard black-headed grosbeak, Swainson's thrush, Wilson's warbler, olive-sided flycatcher, and more. We also came across what looked a like a roosting site for band-tailed pigeon; tons of guano and pigeon feathers all over the place and that distinctive bird-poop smell. After exiting this grove we came to a footbridge crossing one finger of the estuary. On our return trip Kerry alertly located a black phoebe nest with at least three nestlings under this bridge. Trail climbs a bluff overlooking the estuary and as you look down from this bluff you see (if it's low tide, which it was for us) an amazing dendritic pattern described by the water channels in the estuary. Climbing up and over a couple more bluffs, you can see the structures used to farm oysters out in the estuary: they seem to just be wooden racks that have ropes attached to them that dangle in the water, to which the oysters attach. There's an article about impacts (or lack thereof) of oyster farming in the estuary in a recent issue of the Point Reyes Light, if you want to learn more. After the oysters you get to the intersection with the Sunset Beach trail, after which you cross this pain-in-the-ass part that's all marshy, with uneven terrain because of all the cows postholing through the mud (yes, there's a ton of cows on this trail- ranches on Point Reyes National Seashore continue to operate, presumably because they were grandfathered in when the park was created.) Despite the postholes we went *fast* through this part because of all the damn mosquitoes. The official trail probably ended somewhere in here but we continued onward to the mouth of the estuary. The beach was littered with little turban-shaped molluscs with spiral shells. These shells had a red lower tier, blue-purple middle tier, and silver top tier. They were quite remarkable; I should have had Kerry take a picture. There were also lots of starfish and sea-anenomes waiting for the tide to come back in. We sat out at the mouth of the estuary and ate some lunch, and watched the harbor seals lounging on a sandbar offshore. Two of them got into a tussle over a particularly choice bed of kelp right in front of us. On our way back we encountered a baby harbor seal separated from its mother that was on the beach, but slipped back into the water as we walked by. Hope it makes it. Also on our way back, we met a girl, Lindsay, who shared our hike back with us. She works at that organic farm in Bolinas that Prince Charles visited, and she grew up in New York City. And, she has Fridays off so maybe she'll come hiking with us again someday.

2006-05-29T11:50:00.000-07:00

In addition to lobotomizing my yellow shirt yesterday, I went hiking. Arty and I went on a hike that I've been eyeing for a long time. I've been eyeing it for so long that it became a bit of a bete noir in my mind, you know how you build things up over time? And then they aren't nearly as big a deal as you thought they would be. Don and Kay Martin of _Hiking Marin_ describe it as 'strenuous but spectacular'. The elevation gain is around 2100', not all at one go but rather dispersed throughout the hike, as the trails traverse several ridges with only a slight attempt to follow contour lines. So I thought I was in for a killer, but actually it wasn't really that bad. The distance was around 8.5 miles, all told... hard to say exactly since there are a couple of inconsistencies in distances in the book and the map.

The hike is a lollipop: a loop with a trail coming off it to from/to the trailhead. The crowning glory and most challenging section of the hike was the stick of the lollipop, the Cataract Trail, which starts near Alpine Dam on the Bolinas-Fairfax road. Cataract Trail follows the shores of Alpine Lake for a brief spell, then climbs the steep drainage of Cataract Creek, which cascades down a rocky gully with many smallish drops and a couple of falls around 30' or so. So all the way up the trail, pleasing waterfalls distract you from your toil and offer ample opportunity to stop and admire/catch your breath.

Cataract Trail is joined by the Helen Markt trail (the return route on the loop) at around .6 miles, and continues along the drainage of the creek, levelling out a bit. I encountered more fledgling winter wrens (here's an adult winter wren- they're generally darker in redwood forests, probably because they get less sun) on this section of trail; one landed right between my feet. I admired it for a second or two before realizing that, if it caught Arty's attention, it would be a goner for sure. So I moved onward, climbing toward Laurel Dell, a picnic area at 1640' near Ridgecrest Boulevard, the auto route up Mt. Tam.

Short jaunts on the Laurel Dell fire road and Bare Knoll trail (which is a slightly more roundabout but worthwhile route because of its views out toward the ocean) joined me up again with the High Marsh trail. The High Marsh trail traverses some of those ridges I was talking about earlier, so there was a lot of up and down. We passed what I guessed to be the high marsh, a murky mudhole that Arty nonetheless took the opportunity to immerse himself in, and shortly thereafter took the Kent Trail steeply down through a classic redwood forest to the junction with the Helen Markt trail.

I spied not one, but two, women peeing at this trail junction. They were hiking with a group of around 8 folks and had ducked around the corner from their group to take a piss on opposite sides of the same bush. 'Peeing on opposite sides of the same bush'-- that sounds like a euphemism for something. At any rate, I grabbed Arty's collar and ducked back around the corner before either saw me and waited for a tactful interval before proceeding. I wonder how many of my outdoor urination 'near-misses' were not, in fact, misses at all?

I'm sure Helen Markt is/was a very nice person, but her trail has some significant ups and downs that weren't entirely welcome 7 miles into the hike. There's a brief view of Alpine Lake near the junction, but after that it's obscured by the forest. This was probably the least interesting part of the hike, but doing the loop as a whole was well worth this section.

As Arty and I neared the trailhead he decided to take a plunge in the lake, which (despite rules against it- public water supply and all) I was glad of since he had rolled in something foul further up the trail (even better; rinsing off carrion in the public water supply! Not that deer, squirrels, etc don't die in streams that feed the reservoir all the time). Arty's not much of a swimmer, nor is he much of a stick man, but for some reason a post sticking out of the lake about 30 feet off-shore caught his fancy. He swam out to it and gnawed on it briefly before realizing it was attached to the bottom of the lake. He gave up and swam back. A small anecdote, but significant in Arty's biography as it's probably the furthest he's ever swam.

Drove home sticky, sweaty, dehydrated (2 liters wasn't quite enough) with Arty carrion on my hands, only to discover that the water at my house was shut off. My landpeople were working on a home improvement project only to discover vines eating the water pipe that services both their house and mine. Distressing. It was back on by that evening, though.

2006-05-29T11:39:00.000-07:00

I got some new t-shirts last week at Target, cause it was time to stock up again. I got a purple, a red, and a yellow. The yellow was a bit of a risk. I like yellow alright, it's just that I've never really been easy around it. Yellow, in my mind, is like the stranger at your party who seems perfectly nice but who may or may not get drunk and do inappropriate or destructive things beyond your control. I wore my yellow shirt last week and felt a little bit jumpy all day. A yellow dishtowel or wallpaper is one thing, but such a color to have in close proximity to your body! Who knows what may happen?

I washed my yellow shirt yesterday. I washed it with my new red shirt, my new purple shirt, and with my green kitchen rug that's never been washed.

The yellow shirt now has a grayish tinge, just enough to put a leash on its exuberance. I think the yellow shirt and I will coexist much more peacefully, now.

2006-05-20T12:17:00.000-07:00

Arty and I went for a hike in Deer Park this morning. Very nice but it's awfully mountain-bikey there on the weekend. And Arty has this inconvenient characteristic where, if a mountain bike is hurtling downhill toward him and I yell "Come!" he turns and stares up the trail at the approaching mountain biker rather than coming off the trail to me. Consequently, he was on leash for the steep downhill portions of the hike.

We got on the trail a little before 8 this morning; it was still socked in with fog but very pretty. I took the Deer Park trail (off to the left once you get past the school) which climbs a steep, narrow drainage up to Worn Springs Fire Rd., which climbed Bald Hill (1141'). If I had a camera, I could have taken a comical "The view from Bald Hill" picture of the fog that was all around, but since the camera is in Alaska you'll just have to forego that wickedly clever bit of visual humor. Actually, I could see a bit off in the direction of the Bay, and I could tell that the views of the Bay and Mt. Tam must be really amazing on a clear day. Other trails lead to the top of Bald Hill as well so I'll be back again. From there I continued on down Worn Springs Rd. to Phoenix Lake, where I skirted the lake for a half-mile or so. The Phoenix Lake area was crazy busy with people, including one guy who was simultaneously fly-fishing and talking very loudly on his hands-free cell phone. His voice literally echoed across the lake, and when I say literally I literally mean literally as opposed to some folks who say literally and really mean figuratively (Wow- when you type literally that many times it starts to look really weird). Anyway, it was gross. I can't wait till I'm working part time again and can hike on weekdays. From there I continued up Shaver Grade to the Five Points Junction, where I picked up the Deer Park Fire Road back down to the trailhead. It was around a six mile hike with a good variety of habitats and some good ups and downs.

It was a nice day for good naked-eye looks at birds. I saw two horned larks on the top of the hill; I don't know if they're common around here or not but they were quite mellow. The Deer Park Trail up the canyon yielded a warbling vireo. Because the canyon was quite steep, the bird was at eye level with the trail even though he was in the treetop. And, there was a spotted towhee that just sat and sang in a shrub for around 5 minutes while I watched. This lack of a camera is becoming an issue... I could have gotten great shots of any one of these birds that I could have shown you instead of stealing other people's. Of course, Victor will have far more stirring and interesting photo ops in Alaska. But I'm seriously considering picking up a little point-n-shoot for myself that I can keep in my jacket pocket.

What else? I was thinking today about how inconvenient it is that I can't hike and blog simultaneously. I think when I'm hiking my brain is stimulated by all those good exercise endorphins and the ideas just pour forth, and I think, "Yeah! I should write about that!". But once those endorphins subside and I'm all sleepy with a bowl of pasta in me and I'm in front of the computer the stream dries up. Oh well. It's just another form of chemical alteration anyway, and wouldn't you rather have the 'real' me (because clearly the sleepy pasta-full me is much closer to my true essence than the hopped up on endorphins me)?

I just had an idea. I could get a hands-free device and blog, really loudly, as I hike. -Kelly

2006-05-18T21:18:00.000-07:00

Well, I haven't been posting cause I haven't been hiking. Instead I've been dorking around with my profile and other blog-associated fluff, as you may have noticed.

Underwent a slight depression last weekend due to the imminence of Victor's departure (it's actually easier now that he's gone because I don't have to dread his going anymore, though it's still lonesome). And this week and next week I'm working full-time at the behest of my boss. You see, we've got these bird banding stations all over North America that we hire interns to run (over the last four months I recruited 34 interns, but only the last 6 or so really hurt. It was kind of like that time Paul Newman ate 50 hard-boiled eggs in Cool Hand Luke). The interns are supervised by biologists and it's my job to coordinate field equipment, housing, and access to their sites for all of them. The field season just started and so everyone's calling in with lots of questions. Add this to the fact that usually there's three of us and now, with Victor and Ron (the third) gone in the field there's just one of me to do whatever random tasks are required.

But I didn't start this post to whine about my job. What I really wanted to do was to take this opportunity to acquaint you with some rules that I've decided upon for the project, so that it doesn't devolve into drudgery.

I am not including:
1.) Spur trails that are less than one mile long that have no purpose other than to allow neighborhood access.

2.) Trails that parallel other trails with a distance of less than 300 meters between them (like all those foot trails that parallel the fire roads in the Open Space parcels).

3.) Unofficial trails that are not documented on a map, sign, or in a book.

Let me know if you think I'm wussing out by imposing these limits, and I'll take your arguments under consideration, provided that they are both rational and eloquently put.

And also, just so you know, I am highlighting my maps in orange highlighter, not yellow, as I mentioned earlier. The orange shows up much better. If I had my camera I'd take a picture of one of my maps so you could see how much orange I've got so far. That'd be cool. But alas, the camera's in Alaska. It may be for the best, since hopefully by the end of the summer the amount of orange will be far more impressive to behold. Right now, of my four maps, the Point Reyes Nat'l Seashore is my most orange map by far: it's, say, 30% orange? Orange content averaged over all four maps is probably around 10% and I've been hiking around 6 months; this means I've got 54 months to go at this rate. I'd better get a move on, since I don't think I'm going to be here that long.

So I'll hike this weekend and then I'll tell you about it. And maybe I'll have to borrow a friend's camera so you can look at more pictures. Here's a random one from the archives:

2006-05-13T22:23:00.000-07:00

This past Tuesday I went on a solo hike in the Palomarin area of Point Reyes Nat'l Seashore. It was a long, but pretty mellow, hike... 11.2 miles but nothing too steep or gnarly.

I started from the parking lot of the Point Reyes Bird Observatory, took their little nature trail (which is rather overgrown... I'm not sure if it's just cause it's springtime or if they've stopped maintaining it) back out to the road, and from there picked up the Ridge Trail, which I followed up (strangely) the ridge for around 5 miles until I reached the Lake Ranch trail, which led back down toward the coast. The highlight of my hike was along this trail... a little tiny bomber went buzzing past me and landed in the trail, at which point I saw that it was in fact a fledgling winter wren clearly just learning to fly. He could make it about 10 feet before coming to ground again, and I watched him as he progressed forward and finally made it off the trail in four or five stages. It all looked rather tiring for him and I felt bad, but a parent was calling nearby so I felt sure that he would be fed and cared for once I left the area, which I quickly did.

Lake Ranch dumped me onto the Coast Trail, which if I had taken north would have led me to Double Point, which is apparently splendiferous, though I've never been (I shall have to go at some point). I took it south back toward my starting point to complete the loop, enjoying views of the coastal bluffs and Palomarin beach as I hiked.

I took no pictures... felt like looking at the world through my own eyes rather than the eyes of the camera that day.

So this Dixon trail issue? I read about it in the Point Reyes Light. It would be a shame if the public lost access to a trail of such length that's been in use since the 20's, but at the same time its hard on the owners to dictate to them how their land must be used. And then, of course, as it always is, the spectre of eminent domain has been raised... can anyone really justify seizing somebody's land for the sake of recreation? It's controversial enough when we talk about seizure for the sake of improving people's livelihoods or increasing a town's economic viability. Has anyone talked about the possibility of rerouting the trail? I didn't see anything about this in the article, though I was reading in the john and so was perhaps less attentive than I ought to be.

Landowners' rights aside, I suppose I had better get out there while I still can, as noted in a previous comment by aphotoaday
-Kelly

2006-05-11T22:25:00.000-07:00

Yarg! Victor's going away for 2.5 months on Tuesday. He's going to Alaska.

I've been thinking a lot about this, obviously. I've been worrying, actually, because we've been in a really good rhythm lately. I'm worried that his going away will wreck our momentum and we won't be able to get it back when he returns. I don't know why I think this. I just do.

I like being in a relationship, but I'm pretty good at being alone, too. In fact, I usually do more when I'm alone because lazing around the house is not very much fun unless you have someone to do it with. So I get out a lot. In terms of the project, I expect that Victor's absence will be a good thing, because often when I can't persuade Victor to go for a hike I end up hanging out at home with him rather than going on my own. Which kind of clarifies one of my worries, actually... what if I get too used to going out and doing stuff and then feel stifled when he comes back and we end up hanging around the house more often again?

We went to Ring Mountain, not this past Saturday but the Saturday before. That would be April 29, I suppose. Ring Mountain is down by Corte Madera/ Tiburon... that sort of area. Wildflowers are great there but the whole place is so small, and so heavily used, that everything looks slightly trampled. We took some pictures, and Victor took some footage with his video camera. Don't know about uploading the video, but here's some pics:

We're getting a little crazy with the macro, I know. Next time I hike I'll try to take a picture of the scenery, too.

So we pretty much hiked all the trails that there were to hike at Ring Mountain... like I said, it's a small place. Best on a clear day, definitely... views all around the Bay.

That's it for tonight. It's time for bed. I still have to tell you about the hike I did on Tuesday at Point Reyes. Later. -K

2006-04-28T10:28:00.000-07:00

April 28, 2006. Point Reyes National Seashore. Bayview Trailhead; Inverness Ridge to Bucklin to Muddy Hollow to Bayview trails. 7.9 miles

Well, yesterday I went on a hike from work that was a wildflower extravaganza. The area had been burned in the 1995 Mount Vision fire, and most of the hike was through young Bishop pine and ceanothus. The ceanothus was blooming, and so prevalent that at times the whole hillside looked blue. It reminded me of the Blue Mountains in Australia, which get their blue haze from oils exuded into the air by eucalyptus.

Here's a sample of the wildflowers I saw:

There's blue eyed grass, Oakland star tulip, and the pink one is, maybe, checkerbloom? I'm not sure. I don't have a very good wildflower guide, just the thumbnails in the back of the Hiking Marin book. I shall have to invest in one someday soon.

How 'bout some animals for good measure? You got your banana slug, and your California Quail.

This weekend: Tomales Point Trail. Stay tuned! -Kelly

2006-04-26T20:34:00.000-07:00

Three months! Shameful. I have two excuses: 1) the Yucatan and 2) the rain. The Yucatan is a good excuse... there are better things to do there than write blog entries. But I've been back from the Yucatan since March 9th, and the rain, of course, is not a good excuse.

I have been hiking, but not nearly as much as I should (It's that rain thing again. Funny how that keeps popping up). We live in Woodacre now, did I tell you that? Yeah, and a 10 minute walk from Gary Giacomini Open Space preserve, to boot. We're on Carson Rd., if anyone knows Woodacre. Arty is deeply, exuberantly happy here. We go on walks around the neighborhood all the time, and venture up into Open Space frequently. Ironically, though, the proximity to Open Space has hindered, rather than helped, the progress of the project. It's hard to stir oneself to get in the car and drive to a hike when there's perfectly splendid hiking right from your doorstep.

I'll tell you about what I have done. If you go up the end of Conifer Rd (which intersects Carson), that's where I generally enter the Open Space. Hike up the hill to the San Geronimo Ridge Trail and turn left toward Fairfax. One day I hiked along the Ridge trail until I got to the Cascade Canyon Fire Road. There's one spot on the Ridge Trail where there are always jackrabbits, and they always run away before Arty sees them. But then we get up to the spot where they were and Arty picks up the trail and tries to track them down, of course to no avail. Well, on this particular day, (I think it was two weeks ago, give or take) I hiked down the Cascade Canyon Fire Road until I got to the Cascade. Pondered that for a bit and then headed back up, via this little unmarked trail that's not on the map I had with me, but which is described in the Hiking Marin book (see earlier post for citation) It's quite steep, but the wildflowers are splendiferous this time of year... lots of wild iris and a maroon colored Indian Paintbrush, or maybe it was more of a raspberry... at any rate, a different color than I've ever seen for that flower. Apparently (according to the book) there's another waterfall on that trail, but I missed the turnoff for it cause I didn't have the book with me.

Another time Victor, Arty and I headed off toward Kent Lake, without a map or a clear idea whether any trail went there. If you hike up from Conifer Rd. and go away from Fairfax on the San Geronimo Ridge Trail, you come to a crossroads. Go straight, and you go up Green Hill, from which there is a view of Kent Lake. This hike is described in maybe my second or third post. Go left, and you head downhill, in a direction that kind of seems like it will get to Kent Lake eventually. And it kind of does. It was during an intermission in the rains, and there were a couple of non-trivial creek crossings. And then we got to the point where we were hiking along side one of the long easternmost arms of the lake, but had to turn around cause we were meeting a friend at 4pm. Consulted a map when we got home, and it turns out that the trail we were on would have veered away from Kent Lake pretty quickly after that anyway. You can form a longish loop, though, with the Pine Mountain Fire Road... I guesstimate that the loop would be 12 miles or so.

And then Victor and I did a series of short hikes on a cloudy, spitting Sunday down on the headlands. Walking out to Battery Spencer isn't really a hike, per se, but it sure is dern pretty. Strangely for a cloudy day the views were quite clear across the bay to the city. We went on to hike down to Kirby Cove, which we never really knew existed... there's an inviting campground there, amidst cypress and eucalyptus, right near the beach. We hung out and ate lunch with a hungry Western Gull who promptly scavenged our breadcrumbs after we left. And then, we hiked down to Black Sands Beach, which is really gnarly and washed out from all the rains... the stairs down to the beach are at a decided slant now. It started to close in and get downright nasty when we were there so we didn't spend too long. But the black sand was cool, and the only other people were three young men smoking their cigs, enjoying their cervezas, and surfcasting.

So that pretty much catches us up since I came back from the Yucatan. I don't have any pictures of any of these hikes. But I have a picture from the Yucatan. Here it is.

I'm sorry I've been bad. I'll try to be better from now on.
-Kelly

2006-02-01T20:09:00.000-08:00

Pacheco Valle Open Space/Loma Verde Open Space, Saturday, January 28. Victor, Arty, Kelly. 4.7 miles, 1400 foot elevation change. Chicken Shack Fire Road to Ponti Fire Road.

This hike was short but challenging. Chicken Shack Fire Road has some steep climbs for someone hiking on one measly bowl of oatmeal. Victor faired better because he had cereal and a sandwich before setting out. Arty, of course, had no apparent difficulty, and even found love on the trail in the form of a young female boxer mix who was initially shy but quickly warmed to him. Despite his 5 years, however, Arty still hasn't figured out which is the business end.

At the intersection of Chicken Shack and Ponti Fire Road, if you continue straight on Chicken Shack you'll shortly hit Big Rock Ridge Fire Road, which can be taken all the way down to Lucas Valley Road and comes out just east of ol' George Lucas' place. That's not what we did that day, but Victor and I were trying to work out a good way to shuttle it so we could do it one way some time.

As you can see, there was a lot of water around at this time. We encountered a huge mudslide on Ponti Fire Road, which was theoretically closed (maybe? they had caution tape across the trail, which maybe meant "Be cautious!" or maybe meant "Don't go in here!") At any rate, we went down it anyway and skirted around the mudslide easily enough. Here's another picture:

Which doesn't really do it justice, but you get the idea.

That's it!

-Kelly

2006-01-22T21:14:00.000-08:00

Went hiking at Roy's Redwoods today. We (me, Victor, Arty) set out to hike a loop involving Cataract Canyon, but the Bolinas- Fairfax road is closed (maybe due to lingering mudslide damage?) so we had to change our plans at the last minute. A little disappointing, but we had fun nonetheless. We pretty much 'hiked it out'... I don't think I'll have to go back to Roy's Redwoods again for this project except to pick up a Fire Road that I think connects to another Open Space area. Notable on the hike was the amount of mud and the amount of interesting fungi. We took some photos so I'll let them do the talking:

2006-01-22T20:22:00.000-08:00

I went hiking today. But I'm still not caught up on back hikes so first I'll tell you about the hike I did on Thursday, January 19, 2006. This was another Thursday afternoon shuttle hike courtesy of the magnificent Victor. He dropped me off at the Coast Trailhead near the youth hostel at Point Reyes National Seashore at 1:15pm, with the arrangement that he would pick me up at the Bear Valley trailhead at 5:30. I hiked down the Coast trail to (strangely) the coast, stopping along the way to marvel at a large group of Townsend's warblers gleaning on a newly-flowering tree in the riparian area that I was paralleling. I also encountered a great blue heron that was reluctant to leave the drainage ditch next to the trail, and so kept jumping ahead of me by a few yards until he was finally convinced of the futility of this effort and departed for more peaceful waters.

I hiked along the coast on the Coast trail for about 3.5 miles, atop bluffs of 20-50 feet overlooking the ocean. I kept my eye out for whales, since it's that time of year, but no luck. I kept encountering other solo female hikers, which made me feel good... I don't know why, exactly. Rested at a picnic area that had a large group of California quail that appeared quite used to humans, though they scattered when one of the omnipresent soaring turkey vultures imitated a falcon and briefly went into a stoop. Continuing onward, I reached the junction of the Coast and Woodward trails, and started upward. The Woodward trail is a bit steep... I think I climbed around 1200 feet in 1.8 miles, and most of that was in the first mile or so. But it's a great trail- it might be my new favorite. As you switchback across the hillside, you earn ever wider views of Chimney Rock to the northwest and Sculptured Beach to the southeast. Eventually, the trail brings you into a recently burned area... I'm not sure if it was burned at the same time as the Mt. Vision fire or not... it's not super close to the Mt. Vision area. The burned area was very picturesque, with stark black skeletons of trees standing out against burgeoning greenery. Woodward Trail dumps you out at Sky Trail. I had been on this segment of Sky Trail last week, so as far as my goal went it was a waste of a mile or so. I didn't particularly care. Took the Wittenburg trail and realized, by the sun, that once again I was way early for meeting Victor at the visitor center. So I relaxed for a bit at the junction of Wittenburg and Z Ranch trails and plotted future hikes with my book and map.

The Wittenburg trail back down to the Bear Valley trailhead was nice... nothing spectacular, just more of your good, basic, hilly Doug fir/ bay forest terrain. But this was fun... I encountered a couple having a domestic squabble coming up the trail. They were audible a good 100 yards away, or so, and didn't realize I was there until they had nearly bumped into me. The woman was screaming at the man that he never supported her, that she wanted to hike alone, and that she needed an IPod. Wheeeee! It's always gratifying to encounter evidence that supports my general impression that the rest of the world is more screwed up than myself. At least they had the grace to look embarrassed when they registered my presence.

For balance, I met a wise-seeming, calm, interesting older man as I was coming into the visitor center parking lot and we chatted briefly. He's been hiking in Marin since the early 80's and I think he was slightly amused by my notion of hiking all the trails in Marin County, but was encouraging nonetheless. Perhaps I'll see him again on some other hike.

Victor picked me up and that was the end of a quite satisfying hike. I think it was just shy of 9 miles, all told.

2006-01-21T11:10:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to get caught up. I haven't consumed anything except orange juice all morning. At least it's not coffee. Though I'd probably be funnier if it were.

On Thursday, January 12, I went for a fantastic hike after work. But before I tell you about that, let me tell you about this: the best thing about my job is that I only have to be there 30 hours a week. Other than that, it really doesn't have much going for it. Sure, some of the people are nice, but everything I do is either boring or annoying. But, my point is that the 30 hr/week schedule allows me to work 3 eight-hour days and one 6-hour day. And then I'm done. So on Thursdays I work from 6 am till 12pm. Since my work is in Point Reyes Station, I'm mere minutes away from great hiking in the Point Reyes National Seashore, and I can get in good half-day hikes.

At any rate, last Thursday my dear Victor (who works at the same place I do) was kind enough to drop me off at the Sky Trailhead on the road out to Limantour at 12:30 or so. I hiked about 8.7 miles that day, give or take. I hiked the Sky Trail about 5.5 miles to the Baldy trail, then one mile down to the Bear Valley trail, 3.2 miles back to the Bear Valley Visitor Center, where Victor picked me up at 5pm. I had originally planned to take the Old Pine Trail down, but that would have been way too short... I would have been back to the Visitor Center at 3:30 or so. And, I would have missed the best part of Sky Trail. The trail follows a ridge that angles southeast toward the south-facing coast of Point Reyes. For much of the trail the forest is too dense to see much of the coast, but at one point you hike up a gentle grade toward a notch, below which the land falls away from you and you have a great view of the ocean and the bluffs along the shoreline facing southeast. It was a partly cloudy day and the sun hit the gray water through holes in the clouds, creating brilliant patches of reflected sun amidst the gray.

Hiking back along the Bear Valley trail there were signs all around that Coast and Bear Valley Creeks had flooded considerably during the New Year's Day storms... debris had been deposited several feet above the banks of the creeks. I saw a feral cat and a bunch of white deer in Divide Meadow, which marks the division between the Coast and Bear Valley Creek watersheds. I tried really hard to make the feral cat into something cooler, like a bobcat, but I'm pretty sure it was just a feral cat, since it had a tail.

I like being dropped off for my hikes. It makes me feel independent to be out there with no vehicle to return to, knowing that I have to cover a certain amount of ground if I'm to meet up with my ride. No chance of backing out.

For some bonus material, I'll tell you about the mini-hike that Victor and I went on that Saturday, January 14. It was more of a birding expedition, really, because on the 12th someone had spotted a Eurasian wigeon (that's a kind of duck not commonly seen round these parts) at the Rush Creek Open Space preserve). So we lugged spotting scope, camera, and binoculars round the trails at the Marin Audubon land near Rush Creek. It was a drizzly, dreary day but the birds were out in force. We did not spot the Eurasian wigeon, but we did see plenty of American wigeon as well as scaup, bufflehead, goldeneye, and other fun stuff. Landbirds that we haven't seen much of elsewhere included oak titmice and ladder-backed woodpecker. Only hiked a mile or two on the trails, but it was good-n-birdy nonetheless.

-Kelly

2006-01-21T10:25:00.000-08:00

A Saturday in December-- I don't remember which one

Did a short hike (4 miles, maybe?) at the Mount Burdell Open Space. Mount Burdell is a lovely, open oak savannah hilly sort of place, tucked up behind the housing developments west of San Marin Ave, in Novato. Despite the feeling that you're never more than .5 miles from a BMW at any point in the hike, there's a pretty nice diversity of bird life there. There's an abundance of lark sparrows at the right time of year (apparently not December, but I've seen them there spring/summer). I've been there a lot, so this wasn't much of a 'discovery' hike. It was mostly a 'get Arty out of the house' hike, in which it succeeded admirably.

Hiked up the San Marin Fire Road, to San Carlos, around the Salt Lick Fire Road, up to Middle Burdell, down San Andreas Fire Road back to the car. It was an easy hike but I was feeling subenergetic. Dehydrated, probably.

Well, other than that stirring account, I don't have much else to say about that hike. I guess now's as good a time as any to give cred to the resources I've been using.

I have four maps:

Trails of Northeast Marin County-- this is by Ben Pease and a fine quality sort of map it is. He has a website from which you can order his maps and check out his other, interesting activities. This map mostly depicts the several Open Space parcels around Novato and San Rafael.

Southern Marin Trail Map and Mt. Tam Trail Map-- are by Tom Harrison. They're smaller, a nice size for hiking, and depict trails in areas that I didn't even know existed. My work is cut out for me, I guess. I ordered these, and the above map by Ben Pease, off of www.boredfeet.com, a cool small press that features a range of California guide books and hiking-related accounts and memoirs.

Point Reyes National Seashore and West Marin Parklands. Published by Wilderness Press, I purchased it in the Bear Valley Visitor Center at Point Reyes National Seashore. Covers an extensive chunk of West Marin; not just the National Seashore but areas of the Golden Gate NRA and Samuel P. Taylor State Park.

Mapping trails would be fun. Maybe I'll make a third career of that, once I start and finish my second career, that of an academic librarian.

And, I am using one book:

_Hiking Marin: 133 Great Hikes in Marin County, 2nd ed._ by Don and Kay Martin, published by Martin Press in 1999. This book rocks. Hikes are rated by difficulty and aesthetic quality, and the book includes lists of best hikes by time of year, best waterfall hikes, best view hikes, etc., as well as a little thumbnail wildflower, bird, and ecosystem guides. And the maps accompanying each hike are great... I've not yet been led astray. High quality work. Everyone in Marin County already knows about it, it seems, and it's widely available in local bookstores, so I'm probably not telling anyone anything new. But still, I must give credit where credit is due.

What else? I was browsing around other blogs this morning and came across one: Airplane Journal: Hiking the San Francisco Bay Area. Well, I must admit it exacerbated my inferiority complex regarding this blog. He's got sweet pictures, better writing, and his hikes are more hard-core. Must work harder.

-Kelly

2006-01-21T08:34:00.000-08:00

Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. It's been three hikes since my last post. Hello. I'm back.

I think the problem is that I want too badly for this to be good. And since I feel like, so far, it's rather mediocre, I've been loathe to return to it. My response to not achieving a certain level of excellence is not to try harder, but to restrict myself to activities where I can be guaranteed success. Which runs counter to the whole reason why I started the project in the first place. I don't think I've mentioned this yet. I read an article in _Psychology Today_ (which I never read but happened to pick up) that talked about 'grit'. You know, persistence, doggedness, the ability to see things through to the bitter end. The article was mostly geared toward how you develop grit in your moldable, teachable child. It doesn't tell you how to develop grit as an after-market add-on once you've already been firmly ensconced in your lazy-ass, dilettante-ish ways, which, of course, is the boat I happen to be drifting aimlessly along in. I've accomplished some things in my life, sure, but I've also started a lot of things that I haven't finished, and I've given up on a lot of stuff when it became inconvenient to carry on. So I cast about for the idea for this long term project, and I think that I've already told you that Victor and I came up with this.

And I've been doing pretty well with the hiking side of it, because it's tangible and easy to measure your progress. I've purchased maps that pretty well cover Marin County, and I highlighted all the trails that I've been on so far. I've got a long way to go, but I think I've made a good start. The holidays, and the week after, were pretty slack because I was gone, and it was rainy (perhaps you heard about the flooding and the mudslides? Marin and Sonoma counties were amongst the hardest hit.) But the blogging is hard to find inspiration for. Do I merely travelogue my hike, the mileage, and the predominant relief and ecosystems through which I travel? Do I write about what I'm thinking? I feel that my blog lacks cohesion, that I've gone off the rails a bit even before I've started. So I have to work harder at finding it. And maybe that will earn me a few points on the 'grit' scale. I was only a 3 out of 5 on the _Psychology Today_ self-test.

Next post: More hiking!

-Kelly

2005-12-03T09:11:00.000-08:00

We have a roommate. We'll call him Bob cause that's his name. This post will not be about hiking, but rather about an interesting conversation that Victor, Bob, and I had the other night.

A bit of background. I work, as do Bob and Victor, for a small nonprofit involved in bird research. Bob and his supervisor attended a meeting with the National Park Service this past week in Washington state as part of a monitoring project for three national parks up there.

One of the high points of the meeting (at least in terms of myself finding it interesting) was a discussion of what Park Service employees call 'dithering'. The Park Service digs the idea of publishing data online so that it's generally accessible, but would prefer not to publish location data pertaining to sensitive species, so that Johnny Q. can't go out and get himself some bald eagle eggs for breakfast. Well and good. So don't publish it, right? Wrong. Instead, the Park Service has hit upon the notion of skewing the data by varying amounts, so that the locations are encrypted in some non-straightforward way. This is called 'dithering' the data... in this usage, the verb seems to be transitive. These dithered data are then published in place of the actual location data.

Bob described the atmosphere in the conference room. A few, in the know about 'dithering', introduced the topic, with that slightly smug, superior air of those privy to a secret that's not generally known. The term raced around the room like wildfire, until a general buzz was in the air: "Dithering? What's dithering? Have you heard? Dithering!" Explanations were given, and the conference room bathed in the heady glow of knowing that the public at large was being hoodwinked. But how to proceed? Should locations be skewed right or left? Up or down? Should all sensitive species be placed in the mayor of Spokane's living room?

I asked Bob:
"So what happens if a legitimate researcher needs location data for the sensitive species? Are they given the key to decrypt the data?"

"No. The Park Service just gives them the data."

"And what's the utility of publishing false data rather than no data?"

"I don't know. That wasn't discussed. It seems like they just like fooling the public."

"And does it state anywhere, that these data are dithered?"

"Somewhere, in the fine print, maybe."

"And no one seemed to think this was stupid?"

"Apparently not."

I would like to hear the story from the side of someone who supports this. It's all very interesting. I know that taxpayer money goes toward frivolous purposes all the time, and that this isn't the first or even the most egregious instance of the public paying to be misinformed. It's just interesting that people of science, most of whom seem to hold that the data is sacrosanct above all else, would just jump on board an endeavour like this with such lightheartedness. I must be missing something.

2005-11-28T20:00:00.000-08:00

Sunday, November 27, we went on another hike, this time just Victor and I because according to my hiking book dogs were prohibited on this trail, though I think they were actually allowed on leash. The hike was 9.2 miles, nearly to the top of the East Peak of Mt. Tamalpais. We started at Lake Lagunitas ($7 fee to get in! Can you imagine?), hiked up the Eldridge Grade out to Ridgecrest Drive, which is the auto route to the summit. We had the option of walking next to the road the rest of the way to the summit, a paltry .2 miles or so, but were repulsed by the amount of auto traffic so decided to leave that for another day. We took the Middle Peak Fire Road across to (surprise) the middle peak of Mt. Tam, then Lakeville Trail to Collier Springs Trail (a narrow and steep descent) to the Lower Northside Trail to Lagunitas Fire Road back down to the lake.

The best part was the hike up Eldridge Grade. It was switchbacked, thus the ascent was never insanely steep, and there were great views of the Bay all the way up the hill. Towards the top you could see the Richmond, Bay, and Golden Gate Bridges simultaneously (admittedly you could only see the very top of one of the towers of the Golden Gate. But still...) It was necessary to dodge the occasional mountain biker hurtling downhill, but the bike traffic was surprisingly light for a weekend.

Victor really got me. I have to admit I got a little verklempt. It was while we were hiking down the Collier Springs trail. He said, "Thank you for starting this project, Kelly." And I said, "You're welcome. Why?" And he said, "Because this is what I always loved to do, and I've gotten away from it in the last few years, and now I'm remembering all the things I loved about just being out in the woods." Of course, he's the one that got me going on this project in the first place. He's a good one, that Victor is. And there's my sappy, lovey-dovey anecdote to counterbalance the conflict in my previous post.

2005-11-24T19:51:00.000-08:00

This will be a little more personal, because Victor and I had a fight on this hike. We went to the Gary Giacomini Open Space Parcel this past Sunday, walked up Bates Canyon Trail to Conifer Fire Road to San Geronimo Ridge Fire Road to Deer Camp FR to Sylvestris. Then walked back along San Geronimo Valley Ave for about .5 miles back to our car. 5.4 miles all told. Arty roamed free for most of the hike, except of course for the part along the road.

We didn't see much wildlife. It was windy. There's an awesome view from the top of Green Hill over to Kent Lake, which I didn't even know was there before this hike. There were a shit-ton of mountain bikers, which leads us to our argument. We were passed by one posse of mountain bikers, maybe 10 or so, all men except for one woman. They rode fast down a hill, then overtook us on an uphill, riding their momentum to get to the top. It was pretty cool, cause they were all working hard, and it was good to see that. Victor made a comment about the woman, and it wasn't in admiration of her athleticism. It was a sexual reference, which annoyed me because why does this have anything to do with sex in the first place? And he thinks I'm taking it way too seriously cause it was just a joke. But he makes these sorts of comments about lone women, or women in an activity traditionally dominated by men, frequently. It bugs me. They don't need to be glorified: they're just doing what they're doing. But what they're doing has nothing to do with sex... they are just minding their own business doing what they enjoy, or what they need to do, so why even bring it up? Why are women so sexualized that their mere presence elicits these sorts of comments?

So then we got into why we had been arguing a lot lately, and didn't come to any satisfactory conclusions. It was just one of those things. We're not arguing as much this week, which is fine by me. It was my birthday yesterday, and we actually had a bang-up time, going out to dinner and then hanging out with some friends afterward.

This weekend we're going on a longer hike. I'll let you know how it goes.

-Kelly

2005-11-21T21:11:00.000-08:00

And then on Wednesday I went on a hike after work; I guess that would have been November 16. Pretty much the best part of my job is that I only have to do it 30 hours a week. As a result I get a free afternoon each week and I get Fridays off. So last Wednesday I went after work to the Bear Valley trailhead, Point Reyes National Seashore.

Here's the hike: Bear Valley trail to Meadow trail, .8 miles. Up the Meadow trail, steep in parts, to the Wittenberg trail. Take that up to Mount Wittenberg, 2.9 miles, 1407 feet. The top of Mt Wittenberg is overgrown with young pines... it's actually better, view-wise, lower down the trail. You can see the ocean, of course, and the spit of land that the Point Reyes Lighthouse is on. Then you take the Z Ranch trail to the Horse trail, back down past the Miwok Village (always makes me think of Return of the Jedi) to the trailhead again. 6.1 miles total.

I was thinking about a couple of things on the hike. I saw a fallow deer, a buck, with a huge palmate rack. It was fearless. These are the white deer (though some are black or mottled) that are locally famous round Point Reyes. Controversy surrounds the fallow deer... they are introduced from Europe, where they were the king's deer that Robin Hood poached from Sherwood Forest, and apparently are munching on endangered plants in the region. People write heated letters to the local papers, espousing these three main viewpoints:
"The fallow deer don't belong here and are threatening native plants and animals. They should be eradicated"
"The fallow deer are part of the heritage of this region and are innocent animals that don't deserve to be destroyed."
"The white deer cries in my dream//Dance, o spirit brother!!//I dance with my brother deer."
Compelling arguments, all. Since I've not even been here a year, I feel no call to get involved with this debate.

I also got a really good look at a varied thrush, common in that type of habitat but not always really visible.

I thought about Thanksgiving dinner too. Me and Victor and Arty. Here's the menu, straight out of the November issue of Bon Appetit: Cheddar puffs and champagne cocktails for starters, turkey, gravy, cornbread, ham, and chestnut stuffing, mashed potatoes with leeks and mascarpone, maple syrup glazed sweet potatoes, squash casserole with cheesy bread crumb crust, green beans and mushrooms. Dessert is pumpkin cheese cake with bourbon pecan sauce.

And then I thought about how all male biology grad students are the same. Fleece wearing, mountain biking, microbrew swilling goddamn liberals. I still like you, but you're all the same. Same, same, same.

-Kelly

2005-11-20T20:39:00.000-08:00

Hello. This is a chronicle of a journey, or several small journeys, however you choose to look at it. The project is to hike all the trails in Marin County. The goal is to become expert in something; to complete something; it almost doesn't matter what. I'm going to hike, but I'm also going to look and think. And to write about it, because this way I formalize it and guard against cheating. And I'll tell you about what I think about and what I learn, cause someone else has already written a trail guide to this place.

So apparently there are over 500 miles of trails in Marin County; this according to a book I have titled something like _Best Hikes in Marin County_ (it's a good book and I'll cite it properly soon). There are clearly over 500 miles of trails. There might be a lot more than 500 miles of trails. We've got the 33 separate Open Space parcels, each with their own little networks; there's Point Reyes National Seashore, the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Samuel P. Taylor State Park, Mount Tamalpais State Park, and, I'm sure, more. I've only been in the area for 8 months. There's a lot I don't know.

I've done three hikes so far... that's 15 miles down. Over 485 to go. The first was Deer Island Loop at the Deer Island Open Space parcel. This was back on November 13, last Sunday. It's tucked away in a little semi rural area, like a lot of other open space parcels, and seems to mostly be used by folks out to walk their dogs. 3.1 miles. Bordered by county flood control lands; good waterfowl habitat and lots of raptors. It's cute, and pleasant, and we (being myself, Victor, and Arty the dog) found this lone tree with mysterious large nut-like fruits on it. By the time I've hiked all the trails in Marin County I'll probably know what it is, cause I'll be an expert. Right? The thing with Deer Island, is that you don't so much get away from it all there. You hear traffic noise the whole time, and you can see 101 and 37 for a good chunk of the hike. But it's easy, which was good cause Victor and I were both getting over being sick. Arty roamed free, mostly, like the other dogs we encountered: not legal according to Marin County Open Space regulations, but apparently not enforced. Dogs are supposed to be leashed on trails. On fire roads they may go leashless if under voice command.

I'm going to get some maps, and put them up on my wall in the living room, and higlight the trails I've been on. That will be satisfying, to see the map slowly turn yellow.

I'll tell about my next two hikes soon. I just want to get this up. If you're there, thanks for reading and welcome.

-Kelly