Deer Scratching ...?
Last March, I bought a California State Parks Adventure Pass, a couple months after my old one had expired, but it wasn't until the third day of 2015 that I actually punched a hole in the pass and activated it. My first hike of the year was an old favorite: Espinosa Trail (from the Corral Canyon side) up to Corte Madera road then south to Spur Meadow and out along the ridge that runs parallel to Corte Madera Mountain. When I arrived at the turnout where I usually park, a few yards from the trail head, it was already completely full so I drove up the road a bit and parked in the frosty shade of some oaks. As I was getting out, two more cars pulled in. I got my stuff together and started biking back down to the gate. The people who'd arrived just after me, and their sweatered dogs, started up the paved road. Though I don't remember ever seeing one, there must be a trail off the road that leads up to Los Pinos Mountain lookout.
The first part of the trail is a shared right-of-way with a gated dirt road that runs along the meager, wooded Morena Creek. Someone had hung a small red cardboard heart in the middle the gate. The road was muddy and the air dank. Not far from the gate in a small turn out were parked two large U-Haul sized trucks, both painted sky-blue from back to front. After about a quarter of a mile the dirt road makes a sharp right and crosses the creek beneath a No Trespassing sign. The Espinosa trail continues to follow the creek, and quickly rises out of the canopy of trees to low scrubby brush. The "ride" up the trail was dull - there isn't much to see on a good day and today what there was was mud. And when I say "ride," for the most part, I mean "drag my bike." At the top is Corte Madera road, and I turned left and headed south. It's about a mile and a half to the meadow, but the combination of snow and warm temperatures, and 4-wheel drives, had turned the road into mix of ice and mud. Even if my tires had been better, the slick, soft ride would still have been tiresome. Usually I have to share the road with jeeps, dirt bikes, and atvs, but today there wasn't a soul. Even the dark blue Bronco haphazardly parked in the middle of the road was empty.
When I arrived at the meadow I stowed the mud caked bike beneath a venerable oak and hiked out of the trees and onto the boulder strewn ridge that overlooks Hauser Wilderness below. It was sunny and bright and I spent the next four hours hiking northwest along the ridge. For much of the hike I was in sight of the lookout on Los Pinos peak and I imagined that the hikers and their dogs were watching me from there.
On previous hikes along the ridge I had always worn shorts, but today I decided to go with hiking pants. On the plus side, the pants provide welcomed leg protection when going through brush, particularly manzanita. On the minus side, they restrict leg movement, most noticeably when I'm scrabbling around boulders, and the binding is worse when the fabric is wet from sweat. In general I prefer shorts. They're cooler and more comfortable, and I feel the outdoors on my skin. I don't mind if my legs get a bit scuffed. Long pants, however, make hiking through thick or burned out brush so much more manageable and they protect against ticks and, to some degree, against poison oak.
I've been on this ridge many times. I've hiked from Spur Meadow northwest, and hiked from the north end southeast. There is still a section in the middle that I haven't quite managed to get to though. Today's hike brought me closer to closing the gap. After climbing up to the peak, at about 4600 ft, and down the other side, I meandered my way through the dense but low brush until I got to the top of a small knoll. From there I could see the foothills I'd explored last November 22nd. Beneath the knoll was a rugged drop that would have taken some time to get back up, so I decided to call it a day and start back. The mid-afternoon sun was low in the sky, giving the myriad boulders rich reds, grays, and yellows. I hiked back over the peak and down to the path to the meadow where I retrieved the bike and started my ride back. This was smoother than the morning's ride since it was more or less downhill along Corte Madera road. Again there wasn't a soul along the road though the Bronco had disappeared. As I neared the top of the trailhead, I hit a slick patch of snow, ran into a bush that jammed a branch into my front spokes, and I flew head over heels onto the muddy road. The ride down Espinosa trail was uneventful and I coasted down the road to the gate. As I past the two sky-blue trucks, I found they were now open and a variety of things had been brought out. Sitting on the back was a middle aged hipster guy and a younger hipster girl. I exchanged a nod but didn't stop. When I got back to the car, the other cars were gone. I packed up my stuff, tried to knock of some of the mud off the bike, and then headed home.
Deer Scratching ...?
Last March, I bought a California State Parks Adventure Pass, a couple months after my old one had expired, but it wasn't until the third day of 2015 that I actually punched a hole in the pass and activated it. My first hike of the year was an old favorite: Espinosa Trail (from the Corral Canyon side) up to Corte Madera road then south to Spur Meadow and out along the ridge that runs parallel to Corte Madera Mountain. When I arrived at the turnout where I usually park, a few yards from the trail head, it was already completely full so I drove up the road a bit and parked in the frosty shade of some oaks. As I was getting out, two more cars pulled in. I got my stuff together and started biking back down to the gate. The people who'd arrived just after me, and their sweatered dogs, started up the paved road. Though I don't remember ever seeing one, there must be a trail off the road that leads up to Los Pinos Mountain lookout.
The first part of the trail is a shared right-of-way with a gated dirt road that runs along the meager, wooded Morena Creek. Someone had hung a small red cardboard heart in the middle the gate. The road was muddy and the air dank. Not far from the gate in a small turn out were parked two large U-Haul sized trucks, both painted sky-blue from back to front. After about a quarter of a mile the dirt road makes a sharp right and crosses the creek beneath a No Trespassing sign. The Espinosa trail continues to follow the creek, and quickly rises out of the canopy of trees to low scrubby brush. The "ride" up the trail was dull - there isn't much to see on a good day and today what there was was mud. And when I say "ride," for the most part, I mean "drag my bike." At the top is Corte Madera road, and I turned left and headed south. It's about a mile and a half to the meadow, but the combination of snow and warm temperatures, and 4-wheel drives, had turned the road into mix of ice and mud. Even if my tires had been better, the slick, soft ride would still have been tiresome. Usually I have to share the road with jeeps, dirt bikes, and atvs, but today there wasn't a soul. Even the dark blue Bronco haphazardly parked in the middle of the road was empty.
When I arrived at the meadow I stowed the mud caked bike beneath a venerable oak and hiked out of the trees and onto the boulder strewn ridge that overlooks Hauser Wilderness below. It was sunny and bright and I spent the next four hours hiking northwest along the ridge. For much of the hike I was in sight of the lookout on Los Pinos peak and I imagined that the hikers and their dogs were watching me from there.
On previous hikes along the ridge I had always worn shorts, but today I decided to go with hiking pants. On the plus side, the pants provide welcomed leg protection when going through brush, particularly manzanita. On the minus side, they restrict leg movement, most noticeably when I'm scrabbling around boulders, and the binding is worse when the fabric is wet from sweat. In general I prefer shorts. They're cooler and more comfortable, and I feel the outdoors on my skin. I don't mind if my legs get a bit scuffed. Long pants, however, make hiking through thick or burned out brush so much more manageable and they protect against ticks and, to some degree, against poison oak.
I've been on this ridge many times. I've hiked from Spur Meadow northwest, and hiked from the north end southeast. There is still a section in the middle that I haven't quite managed to get to though. Today's hike brought me closer to closing the gap. After climbing up to the peak, at about 4600 ft, and down the other side, I meandered my way through the dense but low brush until I got to the top of a small knoll. From there I could see the foothills I'd explored last November 22nd. Beneath the knoll was a rugged drop that would have taken some time to get back up, so I decided to call it a day and start back. The mid-afternoon sun was low in the sky, giving the myriad boulders rich reds, grays, and yellows. I hiked back over the peak and down to the path to the meadow where I retrieved the bike and started my ride back. This was smoother than the morning's ride since it was more or less downhill along Corte Madera road. Again there wasn't a soul along the road though the Bronco had disappeared. As I neared the top of the trailhead, I hit a slick patch of snow, ran into a bush that jammed a branch into my front spokes, and I flew head over heels onto the muddy road. The ride down Espinosa trail was uneventful and I coasted down the road to the gate. As I past the two sky-blue trucks, I found they were now open and a variety of things had been brought out. Sitting on the back was a middle aged hipster guy and a younger hipster girl. I exchanged a nod but didn't stop. When I got back to the car, the other cars were gone. I packed up my stuff, tried to knock of some of the mud off the bike, and then headed home.