I’m afraid I can’t take any credit for creating this fun event. Kimlin leaves on Tuesday for the Camino de Santiago in Spain, and she set up a grand excursion circling Santa Cruz so her friends could join her on her last training hike and wish her well on her journey. But I was very glad to be a part of it, and to share it on my blog.

Kimlin’s Camino Conmigo was set up in three parts. Stage One: Kimlin’s house to the Westside Farmer’s Market, around 5 flat urban miles. Stage Two: The Farmer’s Market to Twin Gates at UC Santa Cruz, about 6 miles mostly through a state park. Stage Three: “It’s all downhill from there”, another 5 or so miles back to Kimlin’s house.

Now I must also confess up front that I seem to have had something of a bad camera day, remembering to take pictures only in small spurts. I suspect I was distracted by too much interesting conversation with the other participants. Yeah, that’s the ticket!

We gathered at 8am and were greeted with a fabulous buffet breakfast, with muffins and juice and a home-made Swedish omelet, complete with eggs and lemons from Kimlin’s garden. Yummy. A few group photos –none with my camera, see note above– and we were off. Our path took us along Branciforte Creek and the San Lorenzo River (yes, the same one we walked across last week, but much tamer as it runs through downtown Santa Cruz, and with bridges). We left the river to climb the staircase up to Beach Flats.

This brought us in just a few minutes to Santa Cruz’s famous Beach Boardwalk. You can just see the roller coaster in the distance.

The next 3 or 4 miles were along the coast. First, along the beach, where a volleyball tournament was taking place.

And then along Westcliff Drive, where we could watch the surfers at play. You can also often spot otters, seals, and whales from this path.

The sky was spectacular, as it tends to be in Santa Cruz. Here are more surfers, waiting for the perfect break.

While the scenery was spectacular, we were nonetheless happy to turn inland, as the wind had picked up and it had grown chilly. Even though we were walking through a residential and light commercial area, it was still quite scenic.

The white tents of the farmer’s market soon appeared, and our group of walkers spread out to find perfect spring vegetables and other treats. Most left the outing at this point, having afternoon commitments or a good sense of when to call it quits. Carpools took them back to Kimlin’s house to pick up their own cars. And a few hardy souls soldiered on to the next segment of our adventure.

The first part of which brought us to some stables just outside of the city, where we were met by Leslie and Maggie, with their trusty steeds Poco and Treasure. Here you can see some of the variety of transportation our co-adventurers brought: horses, a stroller; you can just see a shadow in the distance, which represents John, Kimlin’s husband, on his bicycle. He gallantly carried various supplies and snacks in his panniers, which came in very handy. John will be joining Kimlin midway through the Camino in Spain, roughly in the vicinity of Leon.

We turned further inland, climbing from sea level to the hills through Wilder Ranch. It is beautiful country, with rolling hills covered in grass and, as you climb, fabulous views back out over the ocean. The wind made the grass ripple so we felt that we too were in a sort of green inland sea. And the wildflowers were still in bloom, making pools of lavender and yellow in the green.

We turned onto a trail through redwood forest.

And eventually came out up by the university. The horses and riders turned around at the gate, but the walkers and biker continued on for a few short blocks to reach Carl and Martina’s house, where Kimlin had dropped off lunch supplies. It was a fine meal, on a cool and pleasant patio, and we had to pry ourselves up out of our seats to finish the last leg of our journey. (One walker had to leave at this point, but we added two bicyclists to our crew.)

There’s not really a lot more to add at this point. We continued on through Santa Cruz’s downtown and back to our starting point. It was a long day, but a lot of fun, and a sort of a grand tour of the amazing landscape we find ourselves lucky enough to live in. And it was a great chance to meet new people, find common interests, and start new friendships. And to say to Kimlin: Bon Voyage! Buen Camino! Ultreya!

My reading audience is eagerly awaiting my promised tale of adventure: can one walk from Felton to Santa Cruz? And isn’t there some river that runs between the two towns? The answers are yes and yes, and therein lies this week’s story.

Some basic information: Felton lies to the north of Santa Cruz, and is nestled in the midst of redwood forests. It is known, among other things, for being the home of Roaring Camp Railroads and the Bigfoot Discovery Project and Museum. The main road from Santa Cruz to Felton is Highway 9, which twists and turns as it follows the San Lorenzo river. Our route took us mainly through parkland, primarily Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park and Santa Cruz’s Pogonip Park. Here is an overview of our route:

The kind and obliging Sarah-Hope drove us up to Felton, and after a fine and hearty breakfast at Rocky’s Cafe, dropped us off at Felton’s covered bridge.

We found there was no direct route from the bridge to Henry Cowell, but a quick walk along Highway 9 took us to the park entrance and its incredibly lush green trails.

We enjoyed several miles of beautiful trails through the redwoods, wending up and down over the spurs of hills, and with the rush of the San Lorenzo river to our right. Our trail map showed several potential river crossings… but no bridge. There was an indication of a “seasonal bridge”, which means a bridge is in place in the warm dry summer, when the river is low and you don’t mind getting your feet wet. But it’s too early in the year for it, and oh did I mention we had just had a few days of rain?

Anyway, we had picked a potential crossing site, and took the steep trail leading down to the ford. There were newts galore, it being mating season. We may not know why chickens cross the road, but we had a pretty good idea what the newts were looking for. We had to look sharp to not step on any of the little critters.

The river, when we reached it, was loud and strong. We could see that in low water this would be a great place to cross, with lots of rocks to hop across on, but now it was more like an Olympic kayaking course of rapids. And while it was calm just after the rocky bit, it was also narrow, and the water was deep.

What to do, what to do? We decided we did not want to be featured in the classic headline, “FOOLISH HIKERS TRY TO CROSS RAGING RIVER; BODIES STILL MISSING”, and looked around for a better spot to cross. Kimlin climbed a bit of a ridge, and spotted a wide, calm stretch of river ahead.

Now we were candidates for the other classic headline, “FOOLISH HIKERS TRY TO NAVIGATE NARROW RIDGE; FALL TO THEIR DEATHS”. We were able to circle an extra-narrow bit by hugging a tree, and lowered ourselves off the ridge by hanging on to a root. No choice now; we had to cross the river or else. Shoes and socks off; cameras and other equipment in plastic bags; poles extended to allow for random river depths. Kimlin unzippered her pants legs to make shorts, but I went the whole 9 yards and dropped trou down to my undies — I might as well confess it, since there is now a video of me crossing the river in dishabille, with excellent blackmail potential. After all that preparation, the river crossing was entirely uneventful. The water was cold, but not frigid, and it was at most hip-high. Here is a dramatic re-creation of my arrival on the opposite shore, a G-rated version with pants.

We found a green ceramic frog on the riverbank:

Kimlin thinks it’s easy being green, and that her green fleece jacket makes her invisible against the green undergrowth. Can you find her in this picture?

The rest of the hike was pleasant and uneventful. The trail crossed the campus of UC Santa Cruz, which was handy because I had accidentally left my keys with Sarah-Hope. We managed to cross paths –no mean feat, since this was the day that the whole Santa Cruz area was without phone or internet, due to some vandals cutting a major fiber optic cable– and continued on our way. Here are some blossoms from one of the student-run gardens on campus:

The campus segues into Pogonip Park, a patchwork of forest and meadow that led us back to downtown Santa Cruz and home.

All in all, 8 miles walked (not including the river!) and a fine adventure.

No, this post is not about the desire to give our former president a good whack upside the head –though it is tempting!– but rather about last week’s adventure in forging a new path.

First, a backtrack. Three years ago I walked across Spain on the Camino de Santiago, and I’ve been itching to get back. I had gone so far as to buy guidebooks for the French route, the Via Podiensis, from Le Puy to Pamplona. And of course I’ve been talking about it to any friend who has the patience to listen. One friend, Kimlin, has always wanted to walk the Camino, and my tales of adventure spurred her on to ask to join me this year. Alas, when I began to make plans in earnest, I found my funds were too limited to go. But Kimlin is pressing on, and is set to take off for Spain at the end of the month. So now she’s in training, and I am joining her on some interesting long hikes.

Here’s the bushwhack part: I’ve long been curious as to whether one can walk along the 9 miles of coast from Davenport –home of the Davenport Roadhouse, one of our favorite breakfast spots– to Santa Cruz. The red line is our route.

Technically, only a few short stretches are public or public-access lands; the rest are privately owned farms or railroad tracks. But it seemed like it could be done, and last Friday morning Kimlin and I bravely set out to find if this were so. We started, after breakfast at the Roadhouse, by crossing Highway 1; here is our documentation. (Pictured is the Whale City Bakery; we crossed the highway here for safety reasons.)

We immediately came upon an iconographic California coastal scene, all blooming wildflowers, cliffs and seastacks, and crashing waves.

Each turn of the coastal trail produced another pristine pocket beach. This is such an amazingly beautiful area.

Soon the trail disappeared, and after following the train tracks for a while, we were able to cut through some farms. These are the worlds luckiest vegetables, I think.

A patriotic statement in a farmhouse’s windows:

We were soon back to following the tracks, and the wind picked up in large gusts. Our trail had veered inland, and while we had glimpses of the sea from time to time, it was a bit of a bleak passage through flat, newly-plowed fields. Plus, our morning coffee was taking effect, with nary a shrub in sight for a quick pit stop, when to our amazement we found a porta-potty. Not just any old porta-potty, but a perfectly clean and pristine one, well stocked with toilet paper.

I remarked that this was amazingly Camino-esque, where whatever you need tends to appear just when you need it. We debated a bit whether we should thank St. James for this miracle, or whether we should thank OSHA and the law that requires farms to provide facilities for their workers. Either way, we were indeed thankful.

Here I am, walking the tracks:

And Kimlin, still full of energy as she strides past Wilder Ranch at the end of our walk, and looking every bit the true pilgrim:

So yes, it can be done! We ended our adventure at the Santa Cruz city border, about 4 hours after setting out. Next up: Felton to Santa Cruz!