Adventure Stories.info

It’s spring time, with weather too nice to stay inside but still too cold and snowy for normal people to head up into the big mountains.   This is the time of year when the lower elevation mountain ranges, such as those found on California’s coast, are at their prime.  With mild weather and abundant wildflowers awaiting, it’s a good time to break out the backpacking gear, unlock the muscles and start working off that winter blubber.  So where should you head?  That mostly depends on where you live, but I’d like to share a favorite spot of mine that has become almost like an annual spring pilgrimage:  Henry Coe State Park near the San Francisco Bay Area.

Those unfamiliar may be forgiven for raising eyebrows of skepticism at the mention of backpacking in or near the San Francisco Bay Area.  After all, one might ask, “How good can the outdoor opportunities be near such a major metropolitan area?”  Anyone asking this question is in for a pleasant surprise.  Henry Coe covers something like 75,000 acres of rugged hills, grassy meadows and flowing streams.  With elevations approaching 4000 feet, there is plenty of challenging terrain but nothing too overpowering on a mild spring day (summers can be iron melting).  So attention weekend warriors, Henry Coe beckons you and accepts your spirit of a tiger but the body a potato.  

With my trusty backpacking companions Dave and Kate, I headed to Henry Coe in mid April. It was 2009, but that is not an important detail–it could have been 1999 or any other year practically.  We decided on a 2 night/3 day itinerary camping first at the base of Blue Ridge at Mexican Flat and the second night at “The Rock”, a special place I first discovered with Dave 12 years ago, during our college days, on our maiden voyage to Henry Coe.  In typical fashion we got a slow start and were on the trail no earlier than 4:45 pm.  The hike from park headquarters to the base of Blue Ridge is fairly easy and mostly downhill, passing Frog Lake and a number of wild turkeys.  I can’t guarantee anyone that they will spot wild turkeys, but I can guarantee that locating Mexican Flat is no easy task.  It is about 3/10 of a mile off trail (feels like twice that) and guarded by poison oak. 

It was dark by the time we set up camp but luckily Dave spotted a tick crawling up his leg.  This discovery set off a frantic activity of self imposed strip searches.  I balked at the idea of getting Dave or Kate to check my crack, so I used my compass mirror to inspect those areas of bodily real estate I could least afford to rent out to a tick.  We all found ticks crawling around but luckily the ticks were still in exploration mode and hadn’t tried to burrow in yet.  I hate those little buggers, but vigilance against their presence is a good defense–after countless miles and years of backpacking I have only once had to pull a tick out of my body.  Later that night, after a meal of rehydrated ravioli and marinara sauce, I was feeling the urge.   I spied a backcountry outhouse so I grabbed my headlamp and set out.  I opened the door and nearly had a heart attack as some sort of winged creature frantically took flight inside.  I slammed the door to contain the creature and once my heart had slipped out of my throat and back into my chest cavity I reopened the door to find a bird looking for a way out.  The bird flew off and I inspected its lair;  inside the toilet pit was a snake skin and on the dilapidated walls and rafters hung wasp nests.  No way I was going to willingly expose my bits to things with bites or stings, so I split the scene in search of a landing pad to initiate a crouching tiger position. 

The next day we avoided the poison oak by hiking in the creek bed from Mexican Flat back to the trail.  It was lucky that all of us had brought sandals; this facilitated our amphibious hiking.  Once back on the trail, it was hot and our climb to Blue Ridge extremely steep, but the reward for strenuous climbing is progressively better views.  Once on the summit we could see the aftermath of last year’s fires.  The eastern side of Blue Ridge had burned, but a lot of new growth now sealed that previously blackened and scorched earth with a carpet of blooming color.  We hiked the whole length of Blue Ridge, gradually losing almost all of the elevation we had worked so hard to gain.   Our destination was “The Rock”, a landscape feature Dave and I had discovered the first time we visited Henry Coe during our sophmore year at UC Davis.  Returning that afternoon was a bit nostalgic–twelve years gone by in the blink of an eye it seemed.  It was crazy to think that Dave and I had been just twenty years old, not even able to buy a drink, when we had been there the first time. I believe that was also the first backpacking trip I had ever done with Dave. At the time I had no idea that we would remain good friends and continue to backpack together. It was kind of special to be back at that spot together.  Amid the reminiscing and renewed appreciation for a great piece of the outdoor world, Dave Kate and I looked at the greenish water and jumped in, seeking relief from the heat and accumulated travel filth.  Refreshed, we spread out on the sunbaked rocks and I pulled out a 22 ounce Schlitz, a can of strongly alcoholic beer that I had been lugging around and saving for this occasion.  It was the first any of us had ever tasted of a Schlitz, and while it probably wouldn’t taste very good at home, the taste was great on our backpacking trip.  

Kate took charge of meal preparation that night so Dave and I went to sit by the creek to filter our drinking water.  I was having trouble getting the inlet hose of the water filter to stay where I wanted it, so I grabbed a rock to weight down the hose.  I nearly jumped out of my skin in fright when the rock I grabbed sprouted a head and a set of thrashing legs, and I threw down the rock in shock.  In the failing light, I hadn’t realized that I had grabbed a turtle, not a rock.  That made two nights in a row when I had close encounters with unexpected animals that gave me a fright.  

Next day we broke camp and made our first stream crossing. While I waited for Dave and Kate to change into their sandals for the crossing and the upcoming Narrows trail, I spotted a funny object in a tree and decided to investigate.  As I got close I nearly stumbled upon a massive rattlesnake who made its presence known with an energetic rattle.  It was so cool I ran back to grab my video camera.  Next we continued hiking and made for a trail called the Narrows, a trail that is actually a creek.  When I did the same trail 12 years ago, it had been a torrent and difficult to negotiate at times.  But this time it was tamed by three years of drought.  Still, it felt good to be in the water as the temperature climbed into the 90’s.

A special campsite with a cool rock and a creek nearby. My favorite spot for sure.

The rest of the day was hot yet fun, and we made decent time back to the car.  We nearly had a shower in the drinking fountain by the ranger station which felt great because we were so hot and dusty by then.  Breaking with tradition, we went out to Thai food that night, forgoing the usual pizza and beer that normally constitutes the celebratory meal of a backpacking trip completion victory dinner.  All in all, I think Henry Coe is a great spring time destination, but it would be a scorcher in the summer.

Dave and Kate on the burned out backside of Blue Ridge.

A really cool rock in the Narrows Trail (a trail that is actually a creek or river, depending on the flow)

This entry was posted on Monday, May 18th, 2009 at 4:47 am and is filed under Backpacking / Trekking / Hiking, California. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.