Friday was my day off, and also just happened to be Earth Day — a perfect excuse to revisit one of my favorite hikes: the bluffs along the ocean in Wilder Ranch State Park.

We’ve had a lot of rain this winter, and it was interesting to see the extent of the erosion along the trail. Here’s a good example. That roped-off cliff edge used to be the trail.

I wasn’t the only one out and about. I stopped for a while to watch a hawk hunting. I believe it is a Sharp-Shinned Hawk; any confirmations out there?

After a few miles, you come to Strawberry Beach. There’s a long loop around the beach and marshland behind it, or you can take a shortcut down and across the beach.

This shortcut is best taken at low tide, since high water and marsh runoff can block the narrow ledge that leads back up to the bluffs. I only take this shortcut on the way out; somehow I feel better with a drop on my right side instead of my left, and it’s definitely easier to negotiate the narrow path while going uphill.

Yes, it does get a bit difficult to navigate.

Most of my pictures look out towards the ocean. The other side of the trail is also interesting, mostly agricultural. Here’s a good crop of artichokes. The mid-coast produces something crazy like 99.9% of the US artichoke supply.

Do I need to mention it’s a gorgeous day?

There’s been a lot of rain lately, so the grasses have been growing like crazy, and fewer people have been out on the trails. Still, I’m surprised at how grown-over the trail out here has become. It’s usually more like a dirt road than a single track path.

I paused for lunch on a bluff. Here come some surfers, climbing down to the narrow rocky beach. If you look closely, you can see some other surfers already out in the water where the wave is breaking.

The now-overcast sky doesn’t dim the brightness of these asters. This is my destination: Four Mile Beach.

I love the bluffs. So interesting to see the layered rock. The gulls love them too, for the updrafts along their edge.

My round trip was approximately 10.5 miles. Here’s one last picture from the day: some calla lilies in a sheltered cove.

Aren’t they amazing?

These are the falls I was trying to visit when I hiked the mountain in Big Basin State Park last week. This week, I took the right turn and found them, and it was so well worth both hikes.

The problem with my first attempt to visit the falls was that, since I was hiking, I took the trail labeled “Hikers.” At this time of year, regardless of how you’re traveling, if you want to visit the falls you must take the fire road, marked “Horses, bicycles, handicapped.” Keep to the right at this sign.

There was beautiful morning light as I set out.

There were a LOT of newts. It’s newt mating season, and they were all crossing the trail, hurrying to a hot date.

The trail to the falls is about 6 miles each way, mostly all fire road, mostly all relatively flat and looking like this.

About a half mile before the falls, the trail narrows to a footpath. It’s foot traffic only from this point, and there’s a hitching post for horses or for locking bikes. There’s a small footbridge across the stream. Oops, make that a small footbridge in the stream. It’s sturdier than it looks; this photo is taken from the far side, after I had crossed.

Oh no! Another funky bridge! You have to shuffle across, one foot in each trough.

This picture is for Paula.

(It makes me think of the old Patti Page song we used to sing.)

White trilliums along the path.

And purple ones as well.

The falls remain out of sight until the last minute, when you turn a corner and there they are! Here are a couple of views from different vantage points.

There’s a viewing platform at the foot of the falls, and you can climb a trail to the top to see the water cascade over the lip. The platform was pretty busy, so I hiked a bit back down the trail and then turned up another trail that heads towards the park headquarters. As I suspected, I found a handy bench with a great view of the falls, and sat there to eat my lunch and enjoy the view.

Eventually I had to leave, and started the trek back to the car. By this time it had warmed up. Most of the newts were gone, but now there were tons of butterflies. Here’s a white one.

And a blue one.

A small alternate trail (ie blocked off but still accessible) gave a great view of the creek and the budding trees. This spot made me feel like I could be back on the east coast.

All in all, a great hike. Twelve miles round trip, same trail in and back. Easy walking, wonderful scenery, and the beautiful Berry Creek Falls as the grand prize. Here’s one last look.

Now that it’s official that I’ll be walking the Via de la Plata this spring, I’m in a sudden panic about getting in shape in time. So it’s hike, hike, baby!

Yesterday I visited Big Basin Redwoods State Park, with the intention of hiking from the beach up to Berry Creek Falls. Here’s the park entrance on Highway 1.

And right across the highway, the ocean.

As you can see, it was a gorgeous day, with comfortable temperatures, and I was looking forward to a nice 12-mile jaunt to the falls. I stopped at the entrance kiosk to double-check my route. I was pleased to see that the falls trail was relatively flat, and laughed at the fools who would hike the snake-like hairpin-turn steep connector route to the West Ridge Trail. (Note foreshadowing.)

So I set off. The trail splits at the ranger cabin, one path for hikers and the park road for campers and horse trailers. Being a hiker, I took the former, and immediately entered mixed forest. The abundant rain and warm weather brings forth wildflowers. I think this is a Checker Lily. (Those who know these things, feel free to confirm or correct.)

And a somewhat out-of-focus group of Chinese Houses. (I could have sworn I had the camera set to close-up mode.)

The trail dipped in and out of shade as it skirted the shoulder of the mountain.

I love the various textures where weathered roots push out through the rocks.

Thinking that I would be keeping low along the creek to the falls, and this would be my highest elevation, I took this panoramic set of photos looking out over farmland towards the ocean. (More foreshadowing.)

Another thing I love: the charred splits that one often finds in redwood trees. They seem so mysterious.

Banana slug!

And then these beautiful orange and black feathers. When I found the first one, I thought perhaps it had fallen from some jaunty hippie hiker’s hat. But then I found two more. Tanager? Oriole?
I was not a good forest steward. I took them home.

And finally, I reached the creek.

Oh, oops. It had been a good five years since I last took this trail, and had spaced out on the fact that the hiking trail crosses the creek via a bridge… and the bridge is removed over the winter. I could see the fire road on the far side of the creek; it crosses the creek via a permanent bridge shortly after the turnoff for hikers. The creek was running fast, and I could see it got deeper on the far side. Now if I was with somebody else, I would have rolled up my pants and waded across. If I fell in and was carried away, they could alert the ranger or the Coast Guard or the medivac helicopter; whatever. But when I hike solo, I’m a bit more cautious. Sarah-Hope would be very sad if I was swept out to sea and never seen again. Besides which, I really really hate getting my feet wet. I suspect, if there is such a thing as reincarnation, that I was a cat in a former life, which would also explain my being a total Cat Magnet. (Nobody has ever accused me of having an inactive imagination.)

So what to do? I had only hiked a little more than a mile at this point, and a quick round-trip was certainly too short a hike. But I had just passed a fork in the trail… that went up. You know, that serpentine trail I had laughed at when I began my hike. The one where I had said, “I pity the fool who hikes that!” Yeah, that one. The two-mile-long nothing-but-uphill-to-the-summit trail. So up I went.

It was steep. Nothing but switchbacks for 2 miles, going up, up, up. I took a bit of a breather and had a bite to eat. And figured out how to use the auto-timer on my camera.

It looks like I’m so hot there’s smoke coming out of my head. Or maybe it’s a thought balloon. No, just some moss hanging from the trees.

Just before I reached the top I met my first hiker, an elderly gentleman with a long white beard and carved wooden walking stick. He commented that it was a veritable traffic jam: he’d climbed this peak around 100 times, and only met other hikers 5 or 6 times — and there were 2 more hikers on the top. When I reached the top and chatted with the two young hikers there, they said the man had told them he was 81 years old. It was a bit embarrassing to be huffing and puffing like a steam engine, and this old fellow was strolling along like it was the Boardwalk. Good for him!

The view to the west. The point of land is Ano Nuevo.

It’s amazing how a good view makes a tough climb worthwhile. And this view was very good.
Looking southwest towards Waddell Creek Beach, across the highway from where I had started.

I found a grade calculator online, and found that a 2 mile climb to a point with 1000 feet elevation –which I think is about what the summit was– is about a 9.469 grade.

I took a little bonus walk on the beach at the end of the hike, just to get some salt air and stretch my legs. I think this is the hill I climbed.

Later this week: attempt #2 on Berry Creek Falls. Stay tuned!

Well, not really. This post is about a day hike in Wilder Ranch, but in trying to come up with some clever headline Emily Dickinson‘s poem immediately popped into my head.

Wild Nights–Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile–the Winds–
To a Heart in port–
Done with the Compass–
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden

Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor–Tonight–
In Thee!

And “Done with the Compass– Done with the Chart” isn’t a bad description of my style of hiking. I start out with a plan, but am often sidetracked by side trails, and sometimes have to figure out where the heck I am. This time, however, I purposely did not follow any side trails, even though that was part of my mission for the hike. So like the hike itself, this is a totally random and contradictory blog post.

Sunday, 9:00 am, I started at the small non-permit parking area at Crown College at UCSC. (Note that it’s only non-permit parking on weekends; you need a permit during the week. And that you should arrive early — I got the last available spot.) I took the Chinquapin Trail through the university’s property, a lovely undulating walk through redwood forest.

The trail opened up as I approached Wilder Ranch State Park.

My goal for this hike was to explore the only trail I hadn’t yet hiked in this park: the Woodcutter’s Trail. Most of the park’s trails lead down to the ocean, but this one stays inland and (roughly) follows Empire Grade Road before dipping southwest to meet Smith Grade Road. What I was looking for was a side trail that might lead to the parking area on Empire Grade Road.

Let me backtrack here. Way back in the summer, I wondered if one could park near the north entrance to Wilder. The main entrance, with lots of parking (official and non) is at the south end of the park, on Highway 1. The north entrance gates are strictly no parking zones, being fire entrances, but I knew there was a popular bike staging area just up the road a bit. So I parked there, and tried walking to the park gates. This was a bad idea. Empire Grade Road is very busy and winding, and there are no shoulders. A driver who had just dropped off some bikers stopped and gave me a ride, so I arrived at the park safe and sound. But my quest for a close-by parking spot for Wilder still remained unfulfilled.

So this Sunday, I walked the extra 2.25 miles from the known parking area at the university, thinking that if I followed the Woodcutter Trail I’d surely encounter a track leading in from the above-mentioned staging area. And if a lot of bikers use it, it should be fairly obvious.

Well, no. I saw several small footpaths leading off to the right, but none seemed large enough to be worth following. So I just followed the Woodcutter Trail 1.9 miles to its end at Smith Grade. Where there is parking; there is a pull-out with enough room for 3 or 4 cars. So right now the bottom line (for me) is that if I want to hike in the upper regions of Wilder, I have to hike in some 2 miles from the nearest parking. Which is fine; I’m a hiking fool anyway.

The Woodcutter’s Trail is a very nice hike. I walked right past the “Trail Closed: Storm Damage” sign at the trailhead, scofflaw that I am. And the trail wasn’t really damaged. There were still some very muddy spots along the way, despite 2 weeks of gloriously warm and sunny weather, and I could see that during rainy periods the water would run right down the middle of the trail. So I would not recommend following this route during or immediately after a storm. But in nice weather, it is a glorious downhill all the way to Smith Grade. And a not-too-bad uphill all the way back. A good hike for breaking in my new hiking boots.

A brief pause in a meadow for a bite to eat let me find these shooting stars (Dodecatheon alpinum).

But most of the trek was all redwoods, all the time.

Total distance: roughly 9 miles, round trip. Definitely recommended. And I’ll be back to find that elusive trailhead!