Big Sur coast from Nepenthe. A million dollar view. We talk about Nepenthe further down.

We decided it was time to revisit Big Sur as it has been a couple of years since we took the scenic drive along Highway 1.

(Please click on the small images to see larger versions, the resolution is better.  Sorry, but just about all browsers don’t do these photos justice.  Most browsers aren’t color managed so much of the shadow and color are lost.)

As we approached Gilroy on 101 we saw signs for the Garlic Festival. This is a big event which thousands of people will attend. I have never been and maybe one day I should just go to see what it is like and to sample garlic ice cream. Encountering traffic on the way home though could be a problem.

We arrived in Pacific Grove at 6.45a.m. and as the cafe we planned to have breakfast in did not open until 7 am, we had a little bit of time to kill. We drove down to the end of Lighthouse Avenue to see if I could find the motel I stayed in on my first trip to California in 1997. On that occasion I was with my son and daughter and we were spending New Year in the area. We found the motel almost at the end of the road and it looks the same as I remembered it. As we still had a few minutes to spare we drove down to Lovers’ Point which is a nice little cove with a sandy beach. In the past I have spotted sea otters amongst the kelp beds not far from shore but not today.

After breakfast we found our way back to Highway 1. When we crossed Carmel; River Bridge we were officially on the Big Sur scenic drive.

We wanted to have a quick look around Point Lobos State Reserve. There is a car park but it has a day use charge. According to ‘A Guide to California’s Big Sur‘, walk-ins did not have to pay to enter the reserve and that there were parking places along the road. All we found were ‘No Parking’ signs posted.

Our first stop was at the 67.00 mile marker (for more information about mile markers see this) in a small gravel pull off and we were in for the

Blue or Gray Whale? We're not sure. Anyway they were very close to shore.

treat of our lives. There was an no official trail but there were signs warning of dangerous cliffs. We walked down a rough beaten path towards the ocean where we had a good view of the coastline. There was no access to the shore at all. Here the rocks meet the sea with not a beach in sight. I was gazing out to sea at the kelp beds, keeping my eyes open for sea otters but what I saw took my breath away. Just offshore, maybe no more than a quarter of a mile, I spotted a water spout. Could it have been made by a whale? No, it couldn’t be, not at this time of the year. The whale migration was over a couple of months ago. But I saw another one and then another. I called to Tom and we kept our eyes trained on that section of the ocean. There was one water spout after another and deduced there were more than two whales out there. All the activity seemed to be in one spot but after we had been watching for at least half an hour we realized they were slowly moving north. Every so often we saw a fin rise out of the water but none of them breached. We concluded that they were feeding. Tom took lots of photographs but it was very difficult to actually capture anything. Sure wished I knew what sort of whales they were. The next day I mentioned to someone what we had seen and was told there was something on the news about the number of whales spotted off the coast of California. Of course I had to check online and found this. Maybe it was blue whales we saw. Wow.

Big Sur coast line

Eventually we tore ourselves away an continued our drive. At the 65.32 mile marker we stopped to take some photos and again at the 62.5 marker. The latter is called the Abalone Cove Vista Point. It bet there are no abalone there now. Tom reflected that back in the day you could probably walk out at low tide and pluck them from the rocks (note from Tom: Wild Abalone is the best food I ever ate.  It is rich but not overly so.  Texture, taste and sweetness from the sea.  Man, it doesn’t get any better). Just off the the right there was a line of trees which effectively blocked off a lot of the vista. They were screening somebody’s back lawn. At the end of the garden, on the edge of the cliff, was a bench. I expect that is the place to be when the sun goes down.

By this time is was 9.30 and the tourists were out. I guess we could be called tourists today. I expect all the small gravel pull offs at the side of the road will be packed later on as more and more people hit the road. Just past the Rocky Pit Restaurant we stopped again. A field, with half a dozen grazing cows, sloped down to the ocean. When we looked along the coastline to the south we spotted a rock archway in the cliffs.

The road becomes more and more scenic the further south we went but scary too. If you don’t have a head for heights, some of the bridges are

Wind blown cypress along the Big Sur coast

difficult to cross. I just take a deep breath and look straight ahead. Bixby Creek Bridge is the most photographed bridge on this road. Up close you don’t get a true appreciation of it. A little further south at Hurricane Point (58.3 marker) is the perfect place to take a picture. It was a little foggy up there so Tom did not attempt to photograph it today. To see one of Tom’s photos of the bridge just look at the top of the page. The history of why Highway 1 was constructed and who did the hard work can be found here.

About eight miles further on, the Point Sur Lightstation is located on a large rock. There are three hour guided walking tours led by volunteers at certain times – November to March on Saturdays and Sundays at 10 am and on Wednesdays 1 pm; April to October on Saturdays and Sundays at 10 am and 2 pm, Sundays at 10 am and Thursday during July and August at 10 am. Admission is $10. There are moonlight tours as well, admission $15. No advance booking is required but it is first come, first served. Must put that on our list of things to do in the future.

We stopped again just before the entrance to Andrew Molera State Park at the beginning of a trail. A sign just inside indicated that it led to a primitive camp site and this was the only access to it. While Tom took photographs from the road, I stretched my legs by walking a little way down the trail which cut through a field. Wildflowers grew profusely along the edge of the path. When it became a little chilly I turned back because I no longer had my sweatshirt on. A father and son passed me on their way into the campground carrying a surf board.

Back on the road again, we took a detour down Sycamore Canyon Road to Pfeiffer Beach in Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. It was a steep 2.5 mile drive on a one lane road through woodland and past a few houses. We passed only one car coming up but there were two behind us and one in front. The fee for day use is $5. A sign displayed at the pay booth amused me – ‘Yes it is windy and no refunds’. There was short walk to the beach alongside a stream which was not in full spate. The beach was sandy and hemmed in by high cliffs and three huge rocks which were just offshore. At first sight it did not look very big but when we walked north a little way, around a small point, we saw that the beach extended some way. The surf surged through the gaps between the rocks and through a tunnel in one of them.

Archway at Pfeiffer Beach in Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park

There were quite a few people on the beach. Lots of family groups with picnics. One family were flying a kite and another building sandcastles. A couple of little girls in swimming costumes were walking a little way into the water and then running back again screaming in mock fright when the tide came in a covered their feet. I walked along the beach and spotted several cairns of balancing stones. The beach does not have larges pieces of driftwood but lots of little sticks which could be used to build small structures. I also noticed that a lot of seaweed had been washed up, most of it kelp.

I walked back to the northern end of the beach, leaving Tom busy with his tripod near the first big rock. Wading across a small creek I found a convenient rock to sit on in almost total seclusion. The sun, having burned off the fog, was shining brightly. There was a warm breeze which felt very pleasant so I used my sweatshirt as a cushion. Then I started writing. It was a glorious feeling to be sitting in the sun, listening to the surf and the happy sound of children at play and I was thoroughly content.

Heading down towards Nepenthe along the Big Sur coast

Our last stop was at Nepenthe. There is no way you can drive down Highway 1 and not stop here. Nepenthe was designed by Rowan Maiden, a student of Frank Lloyd Wright in the late forties. Nearby is a cabin, which was built in 1925 and at one time was owned by Orson Welles and, his wife at the time, Rita Hayworth. Nepenthe is on three levels with a restaurant on the top deck with a large outdoor terrace, Cafe Kevah on the middle deck with another large terrace and the Phoenix Gift Shop on the lowest level. From the top two decks are wonderful views down the coast. When we arrived we parked at the road level. Because there were a lot of cars around, most of them appeared to be Corvettes so assumed there was some sort of rally or meet going on, we thought it would be difficult to get anything to drink, never mind something to eat. We opted for the Cafe Kevah and were pleasantly surprised to find it almost empty.

We ordered a grilled Cheddar and Fontina Panini sandwich, served with a mixed green salad plus a beer for Tom and a hot chocolate for me. All the tables are outside underneath umbrellas. The sun is warm so the shade was welcoming. We had views over the ocean and inshore. Two years ago Nepenthe was threatened by the Basin Complex wildfire, which took over a month to contain, but we have not seen evidence of that fire anywhere today. As soon as our food hit the table, we were surrounded by a family of Stella Jays and a couple of crows. They sat waiting to snatch up the crumbs but they were out of luck. When we had finished eating, one of the jays hopped from the adjacent table onto ours, hoping I expect to glean any crumbs from our plates. One slight movement from me and he flew away.

After lunch we climbed to the top deck just to see what was going on. In stark contrast to the deck below, it was crowded. Obviously the Corvetters had congregated there. From this level you get a better view down the coast but it was a bit hazy so we could not see very far. On our way back to the car we stepped into the Pheonix Gift Shop and somehow managed to resist the temptation to buy anything.

Time to head home. We had a marvelous day exploring parts of Big Sur we had not visited before but there is still lots we have yet to see.

Related posts:

1. Big Sur

Fillmore District, San Francisco

A day off. Where shall we go? We decided San Franciso needed another visit as we haven’t been there for a while.

We checked to see what was going on at both the de Young and the Legion of Honor museums but their combined website was very confusing. ‘The Birth of the Impressionists’ was due to open the next day but there were no details about what was on today. As it was a Tuesday, we wanted to know if either were even open but Tom couldn’t even find out that information.

In the end we set off with no clear idea where we would end up. For breakfast we stopped at the Lakeside Cafe on Ocean in the Merced Manor district. We have eaten here before so we know the food is good, if a little pricey. They have soothing classical music playing in the background and the surroundings are nice.

After breakfast we made our way in the general direction of the Fillmore district. We got a little lost because there were not too many allowable left turns but we eventually arrived on Fillmore Street. The only parking was at a meter where the limit was one hour at a cost of $2.

We walked up one side of Fillmore and down the other. There are some very nice shops; we passed small, high end dress and shoe shops, elegant furniture stores and loads of beauty parlors with exotic names. In just three blocks there are five coffee shops. Along with the ubiquitous Starbucks and Peet’s, there was Tully’s Coffee Shop, The Royal Ground Coffee and Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.

I’ve had great trouble finding decent and stylish greeting cards and when I spotted Paper Source I made a beeline for it. Just inside a whole array of suitable cards so I bought four of them. One day I will write a list and make a special trip to a shop like Paper Source to buy a year’s supply. At the back of the shop you could purchase all kinds of paper, including blank cards and envelopes to make your own greetings cards. What particularly caught our eye on the way out were racks of beautiful Japanese paper but they were about $10 a sheet. The shop smelt of paper, which was very pleasant.

The next shop we wandered into was Browser Books. Neither of us can resist a bookshop and this one had lots of interesting reads. I’m reading Stieg Larsson’s ‘The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’ on my Kindle at the moment (who isn’t?) and Browser Books had it prominently displayed along with the next one called ‘The Girl who Played with Fire’. Another book which promises to be good is ‘Little Bee’ by Chris Cleave. Maybe that will be my next purchase closely followed by ‘Stones into Schools’ by Greg Mortenson, which is the sequel to ‘Three Cups of Tea’. Amazingly just up the road from the bookshop at The Clayton Theater they were advertising the film, ‘The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’ (we later saw that film and it’s very good).

All this meandering up and down Filmore brought us close to running out of time at the meter so we popped a few more coins in as we passed.

Fillmore Street heading down towards San Francisco Bay

Tom wanted to walk up a little further to take some shots of the Bay where Fillmore suddenly dips downhill. I remember the first time Tom brought me to that point and my stomach just plummeted and now we always bring first time visitors to San Francisco to give them a thrill as we crest the hill and plunge down the other side.

At the junction of Broadway and Fillmore though there was road construction going on. A massive backhoe was making light work of picking up large slabs of tarmac and dumping them into the back of a truck. At the same time, concrete was being pumped in to fill the hole and two guys were busy spreading it. If was an efficiently coordinated effort while traffic was being directed around the construction site. A Muni inspector was on duty to lower the arms of the trolleys as they approached the junction so they could maneuver around the operation. It was fascinating to watch.

Our last stop was at Peet’s coffee house. We sat for ten minutes enjoying a cup of coffee (Tom) and a hot chocolate (me) before getting back to the car just as the expired flag popped up.

Our journey home did not take too long at all and we noticed the thermometer rise from 60 – 80 degrees. It’s true what they say about how much colder San Francisco is in the summer so if you are visiting during June to September don’t forget to bring some warmer clothing.

Related posts:

1. The Castro, San Francisco
2. The Embarcadero, San Francisco
3. San Francisco – Ferry Plaza Farmers Market

Motorcycles lined up at The 19th Hole in Tres Pinos

We spent the weekend in San Juan Bautista and it certainly was a hot one. Thank goodness the temperatures in San Juan were at least ten degrees cooler than in San Jose.

As we spent the weekend with Don and Arlene, Tom’s Dad and his wife, and they were not arriving until midday, we didn’t leave home until 11 am. Of course we encountered a lot of traffic at that time of the day and ended up taking a detour down Monterey Road – which is a more scenic route compared to 101. Eventually Monterey Road ran out and we were back on 101. We ran into really heavy traffic again just one mile from the San Juan turn off. Lots of people were heading for the Monterey Peninsula.

Arlene had a good idea for lunch. The 19th Hole in Tres Pinos had been featured in the local paper and it sounded like it would be a good place to eat. None of us had ever been there so it would be an adventure. We found the place easily as it is right on Highway 25, but we were in for a surprise. Parked outside were about 100 gleaming Harley Davidsons, with more arriving by the second. They were lined up on both sides of the road in neat rows. They were all different, which I found amazing. The predominant colors were back and silver chrome of course but there were some red and blues scattered amongst them.

The bikers and their passengers were thronged outside on the deck and in the bar, all holding bottles of beer and chatting loudly. Most of them were dressed in black jeans with studded belts and black tops. Some of them sported colorful bandanas; lots of them – including the women – had tattoos and the majority of the men were bearded. They looked intimidating but were a friendly bunch. We admired their bikes and asked questions and they were only too happy to show off how they had customized their prized possessions.

Catching the eye of someone behind the bar didn’t take too long and we were shown into the restaurant. What a difference. Here was all peace and tranquility as it was completely empty of customers. We took a table by the window where we could look onto the desk and watch the bikes passing. Even though it was quiet where we were sitting, the level of excitement vibrated all around.

Our server was very sweet and when we asked why there were so many bikers, he told us all about The Poker Run. Poker runs are a favorite pastime of bikers. The object is to stop at 5-7 several points along a route – most of the stops are at bars – and collect a card. The highest hand at the end receives a prize. There is an entry fee and the event is held to raise money for a particular charity.

Of course I looked online when I got home. This poker run was organized by the Top Hatters, who are based in Hollister. Now Hollister has been a magnet for bikers for many years. Back in 1947, on July 4th, an estimated 3,000 bikers descended on Hollister and things got a little out of hand. From what I have read they didn’t cause much damage but they partied all weekend. The media got wind of the event and turned up. Two weeks later Life Magazine ran a full page photo of a drunk biker sitting on a bike surrounded by empty beer bottles. An eye witness said it was a set up:

“‘I saw two guys scraping all these bottles together, that had been lying in the street. Then they positioned a motorcycle in the middle of the pile. After a while this drunk guy comes staggering out of the bar, and they got him to sit on the motorcycle, and started to take his picture.”

To read more, go here. Of course “The Wild Ones”, made in 1954 starring Marlon Brando, was based on that weekend and the reputation of bikers has been tarnished from that point on. I have always found bikers to be courteous and think they are much maligned. Apart from anything else, they raise a lot of money for charity.

Meanwhile, back at the 19th Hole, we all ordered beer – what else could we possibly drink? Tom and I shared a tri-tip sandwich, which was served in a basket with French fries. Mmmm.. it was good.

Back in San Juan we stopped off at the newly opened Vertigo Coffee Shop .  We wrote about Vertigo in this post.  We found Dimitri was busy painting the

The beautiful San Juan Bautista Mission

trellis outside and Kitty in the shop. Inside the place had been transformed. The first thing you see when you walk in is the pastry cabinet displaying goodies from La Boulanger – and very good they looked too. On the wall was a blackboard displaying all the different drinks available. On the counter a coffee machine and young boy and girl taking orders and making the drinks. Don and Arlene had an iced coffee, Tom a Macchiato – which is an expresso with a tiny bit of milk or foam – and I had a hot chocolate, which came in a large cup and saucer. Of course they only serve coffee roasted by Dimitri. [Update: Vertigo Coffee Shop has its Grand Opening on August 14-15]

Kitty came and over to talk to us and recounted some of the challenges they faced with getting the coffee shop up and running. Before the could open, the concrete floor had to be replaced because a former tenant used chemicals which had dissolved some the the concrete and made it unstable. Dimitri and Kitty had both learned that a lot of hard work, agony and frustration is involved in running a business but there is also a lot of satisfaction. The shop used to open at 6 in the morning but now it opens at 5. There had been a huge demand by potential customers for the shop to open earlier so they could get coffee on their way into work. It’s a longday for Kitty because it is late in the evening before she makes it home.

It has been beautifully decorated and, on the walls, original paintings were displayed. They were all done by the same artist and were available for sale. Kitty was telling us some of their plans. Soon they will have some squishy sofas in and in the near future they hope to get their coffee roaster installed, which will be fantastic. We all enjoyed our visit, and the coffee of course, and we wish them well in the future.

In the evening we walked into town and had dinner at Jardines de San Juan. It is a Mexican restaurant and has a lovely garden.  Tables are set in shady spots and little nooks. The sound of live music wafted around the garden. Arlene and I wandered around until we found the source, a solo guy playing a Peruvian harp. He made wonderful music. We selected a table on the veranda. The service was a bit erratic and the menu didn’t look very exciting. The setting though was perfect and we thoroughly enjoyed sitting there watching the world go by. Pity the food was not memorable.

The next morning we had breakfast in the Mission Cafe on 3rd Street. We have had many breakfasts here and will undoubtedly have many more in the future. After breakfast we had a little walk around the town and found a very small farmers market on Washington Street. It hasn’t been running long and they only had six stalls. We bought some white nectarines which tasted really good.

Afterwards we went for a drive south of San Juan and found ourselves on Mission Vineyard Road. We drove a little way through farmland and then turned down a road which lead to St Francis Retreat. Boldly we drove through the gate and ventured up the drive. It was very pleasant inside but we did not see a soul around. There were cars about so presumed that, as it was a Sunday, everybody would be attending church. We left the way we came, driving out slowly so as not to disturb anyone.

The view from Fremont Peak

At the end of Mission Vineyard Road, we turned left onto what eventually became San Juan Canyon Road. We were on our way to Fremont Peak, which is the highest point around. It was a scenic drive and the higher we climbed the more distant panoramas we could see. Eventually we reached a car park. The sun was shining down and it felt like the hottest day of the year so far.

I strolled over to an information board which explained how Fremont Peak obtained its name. It was originally called Gavilan Peak after the Spanish name for hawk but renamed after the American soldier, Captain John Charles Fremont. In 1846, when the area was part of Mexican province of Alta California, Fremont, along with a small group of soldiers and accompanied by his guide, Kit Carson, planted the American flag on the top of the peak and built a small fort nearby. His action nearly provoked a battle but Fremont saw that he would be greatly outnumbered if the Mexicans attacked and he escaped with his men.

There was a trail nearby to the top of the peak so decided to walk along it for a bit, leaving Tom, Arlene and Don in the car park. The peak did not look that far but it was deceiving. Nevertheless I kept going for a while, being amazed how far I could see the nearer I got to the top. I did not have any water with me and the climb was steep. Unfortunately I did not quite make it to the to because I had brought no water with me. I realized how stupid I was to attempt to climb in such hot weather without any water, so turned round and walked back down. No doubt we will make the trip again and I will make sure I am better prepared.

Our day rounded off nicely by cooking up hot dogs and enjoying a nice salad in Don and Arlene’s backyard.

Related posts:

1. San Juan Bautista
2. Mission Cafe, San Juan Bautista
3. SAN JUAN BAUTISTA

Duxbury Reef

Neither Tom nor I had ever heard of Duxbury Reef so we were intrigued when we saw mention of it. Once we found out where it was – Bolinas, and there were some wonderful tide pools there, we just knew we had to check it out.

If you are going to explore tide pools, then the best time to visit is when there is a low tide. A minus low tide is even better. To find out about tides, you have to consult the time tables. There are a couple online here and here. Consulting the tide tables can be a bit confusing. First you need to know where the nearest tide readings are taken. For Duxbury Reef it is either Point Reyes or Bolinas Lagoon (both of the links will open up in Bolinas Lagoon). Then you look for the date. As we have to visit on a Saturday or Sunday, it narrows our choices considerably. Then you check for time of day you will be visiting and look for a minus sign which denotes a minus tide. One other thing to check, make sure the year is correct. First time around on another site, it was for the year 2006 so I had to search to see how to change the year. The Saturday of our visit the tide was -0.7 at 7.29 a.m. – the lowest early morning weekend tide for the rest of the year.

Saturday morning we were up at 4.15 and on the road by 5. Tom checked the weather so knew we would probably encounter fog. And we certainly did. San Francisco was shrouded with the stuff. Driving across the Golden Gate Bridge the towers were lost to view with only the merest hint of Alcatraz off the the right. Negotiating Highway 1 in the Marin Headlands was a challenge and as we zig-zagged our way along the coast we were aware that the ocean was nearby but only caught odd glimpses of the water through breaks in the fog. The steep drop-offs were passed without my stomach plummeting.

It was gratifying to see that indeed there was a very low tide, especially when we drove past Bolinas Lagoon. Vast mud flats were visible out in the middle. Lots of egrets were paddling in the mud searching for their breakfast.

Just past the end of the lagoon, we turned left towards Bolinas. There aren’t any signs, you have to know that Bolinas is there. At the next junction, where we turned left again, there was a sign which simply said – ‘Entering a socially acknowledged nature-loving town’. This sums up Bolinas.

Of course we checked out where Duxbury Reef was and even looked at a map. It seemed easy enough to find but, you’ve guessed right,

Heading down to Duxbury Reef

we became a little lost. We took a few wrong turns and ended up a couple of times in a cul-de-sac and once the road was completely closed off due to a landslide. Eventually we returned to Mesa Road and somehow found our way to Elm Road. At the end of Elm Road we turned left onto Ocean Parkway and ran into a fairly large car park at the end of the road. Success, we had reached the right place.

There was just one other car there. I did expect there to be more people around. After all it is the weekend and a minus tide so why weren’t there more people? I can only assume that it is a combination of not many people having heard of Duxbury Reef and it being difficult to find.

A short trail led down to the beach and there in front of us was a large area of exposed tide pools. Only one other person and his dog were in sight. It was a bit chilly on the beach and visibility out to sea was not good but with my hooded sweatshirt on it wasn’t too bad.

Duxbury Reef tide pool

I started out to explore the reef. The rocks were covered with slippery seaweed so walking and clambering over them was a slow process. It didn’t matter though as I was not in a great hurry. There were lots of lots of tide pools ranging from tiny crevices to larger expanses of clear water. Negotiating a route to the edge of the ocean was not in a straight line. Some of the inlets were quite large and finding an easy way across at a narrower point or by using stepping stones took time. Of course each tide pool had to be scrutinized as I passed. To get the most out of them, you have to stand very quietly for about five minutes as minute fish swim under cover and tiny crabs scuttle out of sight as you approach. By not moving for a while, they all venture out again and you can then study them.

At first I thought some of molluscs were attached to the rock but then noticed that some of them were moving very, very slowly. Then a tiny leg would appear and then another and I realized that they were hermit crabs. I read a fascinating fact about hermit crabs. As they grow larger they need to move into a bigger shell and a sort of line develops around an empty shell so when one hermit crab exits its too small shell for a larger one, there is already another hermit crab waiting to inhabit the one that had just been vacated. I wonder how they communicate to each other?

I noticed that there were a lot of one sort of mollusk which I couldn’t identify. When writing this post I tried to find out what they were. I can tell you what they weren’t – cockles, mussels, whelks, barnacles or limpets. Comparing our photographs with images online, we think they were sea snails but if anybody out there disagrees, please send a comment. We saw a lot of sea anemones clustered together on the rocks. When they are closed they look very nondescript and uninteresting. Brush against them with your shoe and they tighten up even further. But when they open up they are beautiful. We saw several large green sea anemones waving their tentacles. Don’t be tempted to touch them because they sting.

Bicycle and stuff in the charming little village of Bolinas

For most of our time there we had the place to ourselves, then a couple and their four children arrived and were busily exploring the tide pools. The children were fascinated by everything they saw. Not that they were close enough for us to hear what they were saying but could tell by the way they were crouching and pointing excitedly. It was a pleasure to watch them.

While Tom continued to take photos, I walked back up to the beach and wandered further along the sand. As it was called Agate State Beach Park, I was on the lookout for agate. I wasn’t quite sure what agate looked like but that didn’t stop me looking. I don’t think I found any agate but I may have seen a small piece of amethyst in a piece of honeycomb rock. Just wish I’d taken a photo of it. Tom caught up with me and I showed him the rock. He didn’t know whether it was anything to get excited about.

On the way back to the car we took a little detour along a trail that led to the top of the bluffs. We couldn’t see down to the beach very well but we think the reef extends some way down the coast. Perhaps we did not explore all the tide pools. Maybe if we had walked south along the beach we would have discovered more. The trail took us back to the car park.

Time to go and find something to eat . We drove into Bolinas and went into Coast Cafe. We have eaten several times there and like the food. Even though it is a little pricey, the quality of the food and the ambiance is well worth it.

Related posts:

1. Fitzgerald Marine Reserve, Moss Beach
2. Bolinas
3. Fairfax -Bolinas Backroad

Early morning on the Coyote Creek Bike Trail.

It has been ages since we have been on a bike ride and so we are now putting that right. During the week Tom checked both bikes and had to put new tires on his before they were fit to be ridden again. Early in the morning we set off down Monterey Road to try and find the place we finished the Coyote Creek Bike Trail last time way back in April 2008. We had a big problem finding the right place as we couldn’t cross Monterey Road for some time because of the concrete barrier running down the middle. Eventually we turned down an unnamed road leading to the Santa Clara County Model Aircraft Skypark. On our right we passed an orchard and it was obviously picking time because we saw a lot of ladders and buckets down the aisles between the trees. Tom stopped the car and we went to investigate to see what sort of fruit was growing and it turned out to be cherries. A little further up the road we saw the early morning pickers starting out on their shift.

At the end of the road there was a packing factory on the left and just past that there was a locked gate across the way. There was room to park the car just before it so we did just that and unloaded the bikes. While I waited for Tom to load up his camera gear, I watched a Black Phoebe perched on a sign singing away. Every so often it darted away to catch an insect and back it came again to resume its singing. It was easy to get around the gate and we set off down towards the Model Aircraft Skypark. There was a lake on the right hand side and it was obviously a angling lake but I couldn’t see any fishermen.

Last time we finished our ride at the Model Aircraft Skypark and it didn’t take long to reach it this time. Back then it was a hive of activity and we sat and watched the planes flying around. This time there was nobody around at all and everything was locked up.

It was a chilly morning to begin with but the sun rose over the hill and before long it blazed down upon us. Early in the morning is the best time for a bike ride. There were very few people around to begin with – a lone jogger and several other bikers going the other way. In the near distance we could see cars traveling on 101 and, of course, we could hear them as well. A hawk was circling overhead and suddenly he swooped down and we lost sigh of him.

The trail passed under 101 and we were on the east side. Off to the right the creek was flowing close to the trail. A bit further along Tom stopped to take photos and I got off my bike, walked back to the creek and took some photos of my own. I saw a strange sight. On the other side, a man was approaching the creek carrying a large rock. He waded into the water and carefully placed it in the creek. I realized he was building stepping stones to cross the creek. I pondered why he was doing it but didn’t come up with any logical explanation other than he wanted to get to the other side. Maybe the creek is easy to cross normally but now there the water is high and flowing fast building a stepping stone bridge is the only way to cross over.

Deer spotted along the Coyote Creek Bike Trail

Back on our bikes we continued our ride. Some sections of this trail can be a bit boring but definitely this southern section is the prettiest. We spotted a doe and her partly grown fawn feeding not too far from us and stopped to watch. The mother lifted her head and twitched her ears. She probably couldn’t see us too well but she certainly knew we were there. We kept very still until they had both moved off.

We negotiated a bend and came upon a rest area. I’m sure the sign said Oak Rest Area but according to the official Coyote Creek Parkway trail map it is called Walnut Rest Area. It has picnic tables and the Sycamore Nature Trail can be accessed here. Not far past there we passed a big open sided shed. We thought it might once have been a packing shed but it doesn’t look as though it is used now.

Around another bend and we came to a long wooden footbridge. Our bikes made a noise as we crossed and it reminded me of the childrens story of ‘Three Billy Goats Gruff’. Just beyond it was a sign warning about mountain lions and further on a map showing where mountain lions live. Next thing we knew we were passing houses and had reached the end of the path. I was a bit disappointed as I had expected the bike path to go all the way to Anderson Lake. By checking online when I got home I saw that there is a way to get to Anderson Lake but there were certainly no directions on the bike trail. All we could see was a correctional facility.

We turned and headed back to the car. This section was not as long as we expected but it felt good to have reached the end of the bike trail. After we had loaded the bikes we drove into Morgan Hill and stopped for bagels and coffee at Main Street Bagels in the middle of town. We sat outside and enjoyed watching the world go by and listened to the church bells ringing. On the way home along Monterey Road we stopped at a fruit stand and bought some cherries and apriums. I had never heard of apriums but they sure were good, if a little expensive at $15 a basket. Of course I had to look online for more information about apriums when I arrived home. An aprium is three quarters apricot and one quarter plum and looks like an apricot.

After this warm up session, we must plan our next ride. Our calendar is full for the next few weeks but hopefully soon we will be able to hit another bike trail.

Related posts:

1. Coyote Creek Parkway
2. Upper Guadalupe River Trail and Los Alamitos Creek Trail
3. Wilder Ranch Bike Path

Bridgeport Covered Bridge

After breakfast, we set out for Bridgeport, which is ten miles away from the cabin on Pleasant Valley Road. On the way we passed Wildwood Lake and pulled into a small parking area to take a closer look. The lake was formed when the Anthony House earth dam was constructed. The name of the dam intrigued me and I have tried to find out more about it. The only information I found just said that the dam was named after a house called Anthony House which had been submerged by the lake.

The main reason for traveling to Bridgeport was to see the longest single span covered bridge in existence located in the South Yuba River State Park. We caught a glimpse of it before pulling into a car park. From the car park we walked across the road and found the trail leading towards the covered bridge. The first covered bridge I ever saw was in Oregon and to date I have seen many covered bridges and they are a pretty sight. This is a particularly fine example. Just before we reached the bridge we took a detour down to the river. The bridge crosses the South Yuba River which, at this time of the year, is swollen with the melting snow from the high Sierras. Looking up at the bridge from the edge of the river was an impressive sight and Tom took lots of photographs. While mooching around I was amazed at the number of butterflies flitting around.  The Monarchs were easy to spot but there were several I did not recognize at all.

I climbed back up the bank and wandered towards the bridge. I imagined what it must have been like in its heyday with the mule trains

One of many wildflowers we saw on the trail along the South Fork of the Yuba River. This one is called, 'Elegant Brodiaea'.

hauling wagons through it. It is constructed of Douglas Fire and even after all this time – it was built in 1862 – the smell of the wood is very strong and pleasant. I stood at the end and looked through to the far end. The interior was dim but light from the three windows on either side brightened up the inside. Running the whole length were four thick raised sleepers, presumably to keep the mules on track as they crossed the bridge. I walked along the top of one of the planks and tried not to look down between the gaps at the river below. When I came to the first window and stopped to gazed through it. The windows have no glass in them so I was able to poke my head through. Down by the river I spotted Tom still busy taking photos. I called but he didn’t hear me.

(Click on the images for larger versions. There are some other options on the larger photos too)

At both ends of the bridge are commemorative plaques which gave interesting facts about the construction of the bridge and when I got home I looked on line for more information. This site gives information about the construction and the toll road and this one on the three plaques.

By this time Tom had caught up with me but then he disappeared from sight. Finally I tracked him down in the Historic Barn. Outside the sun was beating down but inside the barn it was deliciously cool. On display were eleven huge wagons and I marveled at their size. The wheels of the older ones were made out of a solid pieces of wood and rimmed with iron. On the walls were photos and interpretive panels which told the history of the wagons. Some of the wagons were pulled by up to 42 mules because they were so large and heavily laden.

South Fork of the Yuba River

Nearby was a small visitors center with some interesting displays.  A full sized Kodiak brown bear, a near relative of the Grizzly Bear, was the first object that caught my eye. There were fascinating displays featuring wildlife, plant life, how the original native tribes lived, pictures of I.O. Wood (who built and owned the bridge) and domestic objects from the gold rush days. There is no charge to visit the South Yuba River State Park but we left a generous donation in the box by the door.

Outside there was a hands on experience on panning for gold with volunteers ready to explain and answer questions. We were tempted to try our hand but the table was crowded. Under the shade of a huge tree a table had been laid out with leaflets. Behind the table sat a volunteer who was eager to hand out leaflets and to give information. One leaflet I picked up was called Bridgeport Trails. As Tom and I plan to walk one the trails I thought it would come in very handy. John and Judy told us that one of their favorite hikes is the Buttermilk Bend Trail and, sure enough it was on the leaflet. I was also handed a printout which pointed out interesting things to look for on the walk. To get to the trailhead we had to return to the car park. The docent informed us that we didn’t have to recross the road but could take the path which led under the bridge.

It was a hot day but we had a big bottle of water and Tom, of course, had his camera. As it was a holiday weekend there were quite a few hikers on the trail and several large family groups. The trail was wide to begin with so getting past the slow moving groups posed no problem. Later on, when the path became narrower we had left the families behind and passing other hikers was easy.

The printout explained that most of the trail is the course of a ditch which carried water down to Englebright Lake and was used to lay down dust on the turnpike. It was certainly a very scenic route and for most of the way we looked down on the fast flowing South Yuba River. A short way along we spotted a small sandy beach on the other side of the river and there were lots of people making the most of it. There were quite a few swimmers in the river. Large rocks in the river had sun worshipers stretched out on them. On such a hot day the water did look exceedingly inviting and Tom wished he was down there in it. Not me, I would be too frightened of the strong current.

On the way back to Nevada City this field was just ablaze with color.

Even though it was relatively late for wildflowers there were lots around and most of them were labeled. I was impressed with this as it enabled me to identify most of them. There were the bright orange Canyon Dudleya, cornflower blue Globe Gilia, yellow Tufted Poppies (they looked identical to California Poppies but maybe not so tall), tiny yellow Silverleaf Lotus, light and bright purple Winecup Clarkia, pretty purple Elegent Brodiaea along with Clover and Purple Vetch. One plant which intrigued us was the Woody Sunflower Gumplant and it did indeed have a gummy feel to it.

At one point the trail turned inland along the edge of French Coral Creek to a footbridge across creek. The leaflet told us to look out for ‘substantial stonework…probably where a flume crossed the ravine’. We both searched for it on both sides of the creek but somehow we missed it.

Along the way there were several benches to sit and admire the scenery. At one such stop there was another couple and I sat and chatted for some time. The view looked downstream and beyond. It was a very pleasant way to spend half an hour while I waited for Tom to catch up with me.

We didn’t quite make it to the end of the trail. For one thing we were nearly out of water plus we had promised to call and see Aunt Thelma at her house in the afternoon. Our route to Nevada City was along the scenic Bitney Springs Road. Aunt Thelma showed us around her beautiful home and, along with John, the four of us took a stroll down her garden to Deer Creek. The last part of the path was very steep with many obstacles but Aunt Thelma had no problem at all getting down and back. She is a remarkable lady and, would you believe it, 98 years old!

Tom and I rounded off our fantastic weekend in the Gold Country with a wonderful meal at the New Moon Cafe on York Street in Nevada City. It was a slap up meal and I tried soft shelled Dungeness Crab for the very first time.

Related posts:

1. Malakoff Diggins State Historic Park, Gold Country
2. Penn Valley and Nevada City, Gold Country
3. Gold Country

This and all the other photos are now available for sale. Click on this image for a larger version and you'll see the links.

We just teamed up with Fotomoto and can now offer our photos for sale. Just click on any photo (like the one to the left of Big Sur) and a larger photo will pop up with links at the bottom offering the photo for sale. You can buy a print at various sizes and specify the paper it will be printed on. You can buy a postcard with your personal note inside and have it mailed. You can buy a download copy at various prices depending on your use. Or if you’d like to send a free eCard to someone, please be our guest.

Related posts:

1. University of California Botanical Garden at Berkeley
2. Locke, California

View from our balcony

Maybe because of the total seclusion of our log cabin but more probably due to our late night, it was 8.30 before we stirred. Tom likes to get up early to take photos but the sun was way up before we had even opened our eyes. He did take some photos from the balcony though. We were deciding where to go today – so much to see, so little time.  Malakoff Diggins sounded interesting so we decided to drive into Grass Valley to find something to eat before heading north.

After breakfast at the Old Town Cafe we explored a little bit of Grass Valley including the pastie shop (or pasty as we would say in England). Cousin Jack Pasties. They are indeed authentic Cornish pasties. It is a family owned shop and the recipe has been handed down from generation to generation. Of course they sell many variations of the Cornish pasty.  On their website they explain the tradition of Cornish pasties; Wikipedia is a good source as well. My father was a cook in the Royal Navy and he made oggies (naval term for Cornish pasties) all the time but his were not semi circular in shape and flat but crimped along the top. No matter what they look like, there’re great to eat. Obviously I bought one, which was just right for the two of us when we had a picnic lunch later.

(Click on the photos for larger versions)

South fork of the Yuba River

According to the map, it looked an easy drive to the Malakoff Diggins but, to be on the safe side, we turned on Camilla (our GPS), found Malakoff
Diggins and set off. The first part of the route was easy on Highway 49.  Just beyond Nevada City the freeway ended and Highway 49 became a scenic route. The highway crossed the South Fork Yuba River and we turned down what we assumed to be the old road over the river and pulled into a small car park. We walked down to the bridge and looked down onto the fast flowing river beneath. Tom absorbed himself in taking photos and I spent several minutes watching a group of fisherman on the rocks below. The 1.5 mile long Independence Trail starts here and is the nation’s first wheelchair accessible wilderness trail. Two other trails start on the north side of the river – Hoyt’s and the South Yuba River trails. The first is 1.2 miles and the second 5 miles long. Another time maybe.

Back on the road again we faithfully followed the GPS instructions, turning right onto Tyler Foote Crossing Road but then things started to unravel. We were directed to turn right again, this time onto a road which quickly turned into a loose gravel track but we carried on, trusting Camilla absolutely. After a couple of miles she said ‘recalculating’ and directed us to take a couple of other turns. We were baffled but let her do her job. A few miles later she said ‘recalculating’ again. By now we were way out in the boonies and travelling on completely unpaved roads. We gave up and found our way back to Tyler Foote Crossing Road and looked for official signs to the Malakoff Diggins State Historic Park.

Eventually we saw a sign and breathed a sigh of relief. Then another sign which indicated we should turn right. We expected to see an entrance of some sort but there wasn’t any plus a complete lack of any directional signs. There were signs pointing to different camping sites and that was all. According to what we had read, Malakoff Diggins is famous for using hydraulic mining after the easy pickings from the mother lode began to dry up in the 1850′s but we could see nothing to indicate where we could go to see any sign of such mining. We did see a sign saying ‘North Bloomfield – originally Humbug’ which intrigued us so we went to investigate.

North Bloomfield turned out to be a small town with a few very old houses, which didn’t look as if they were occupied, a church, shops and a museum. We parked near the museum and I wandered inside to investigate. This turned out to be the park headquarters and where we had to pay a fee ($8.00). I picked up a handy little leaflet with lots of information and sat outside in the shade to read it. Tom, as usual, had wandered off with his camera. I discovered that a town tour started right at the spot I was at 1.30 every Saturday. Talk about good timing as it was 1.15. Several other people wandered over, including Tom.

Not long after 1.30 Debbie, the park ranger, joined us and for the next one and half hours she kept us enthralled. She first told us the origins of the town and Humbug was indeed it’s original name. Humbug was a common name used by miners back in the 1850′s and indicated a place where the gold had run out. When hydraulic mining uncovered gold in the hills, miners returned to Humbug and a thriving community formed. When the town applied to have a post office it was refused because there were too many places with the same name. The name that the US Post Office eventually agreed to in June of 1872 was North Bloomfield and has been known by that name ever since.

Hydraulic mining was widely used in the area but the side effects of the operation caused an environmental disaster. The process uses a lot of water which is aimed at the mountainside through a tapered nozzle. The force of the water blasted the side of the mountain and dislodged the rocks and released any gold in them. The water had to go somewhere of course and flowed into creeks, which fed into the Yuba River and caused flooding down in the valley. Mercury was used in the mining process and this, plus debris from the blasting, silted up the river and farmland was destroyed. After years of legal wrangling, an injunction was issued against dumping tailings into the Yuba River in 1874. Under the new restrictions, hydraulic mining became unprofitable and North Bloomfield declined as people drifted away. The town is not abandoned completely as a few people still live there but it is officially a ghost town.

Old house at Malakoff Diggins State Park

Then Debbie took us for a walk around the town and into a few of the old buildings. The first building we entered was the stable. Here several wagons were on display plus a hay bailing machine. A sign tacked to the wall amused me.  It said ‘Whip Lightly, Drive Slow, Pay Cash Before You Go’. Of couse, any old mining town had to have plenty of saloons. The present museum used to be a saloon but Debbie took us into the restored King Saloon. It was a wonderful place. The long polished bar with the standard brass foot rail attached conjured up what the saloon looked like in its heyday and I imagined the miners drinking,  carousing and the making full use of the strategically placed spittoons. A few minutes later we were peeping through the window into the Barber’s Shop. We went into the Drug Store (which was extremely cold) and looked at the bottles arrayed on the shelves. It surprised me that the smell of the old medical remedies still lingered in the air. Across the road we entered the General Store with a Post Office just inside (which was also very cold). At the back we could see, behind bars, the original Wells Fargo safe. Here the miners’ gold was stored. A twenty four watch was kept on the precious metal and we could glimpse the sleeping quarters of the armed guard. The last house was the Skidmore House which is reputed to be haunted. Inside it was interesting to see the layout of the house and could peep into most of the rooms.

After the tour, we couldn’t leave the area without going to look at the Malekoff Diggins themselves. We could see vast ridges, gouged out of the hillside by the high pressure hoses used in hydraulic mining, and it was hard to imagine just what the place looked like before the miners came. We passed a sign which said that Nevada City was only a few miles away but that was the route the muleteers took and completely impossible to drive today. We checked the mileage on the way back and it was 26 miles. On the way, Tom pointed about the milky colored water in ponds at the side of the road.  These are the tailings from the hydraulic mining and even after all this time they are probably still full of mercury.

Once again, back in Nevada City, we walked around the town and enjoyed an ice cream in Treats. Tom had a cone but I went the whole hog and ordered a delicious ice cream sundae. In the evening we had dinner with Tom’s cousin, Judy, her husband, John, and Tom’s Aunt Thelma. Judy and John have a beautiful home in Nevada City and Thelma lives nearby. This was the first time I had met all of them and we had a wonderful time. Hopefully we will see more of them and if that means another trip to Nevada City, I’m all for it.

Related posts:

1. Penn Valley and Nevada City, Gold Country
2. Bridgeport, Gold Country
3. Gold Country

The Penn Valley cabin we stayed in.

This is the start of the long Memorial Day weekend. For me it is a four day weekend because I have every other Friday off. We are off to spend three nights in a secluded log cabin in Penn Valley which is in the Sierra Nevada foothills. Penn Valley is close to both Grass Valley and Nevada City in the Gold Country.

(Click on the photos for larger versions)

As it was a working day for lots of people, we set off at 10 a.m. after the rush hour. The major part of our journey was on the 680 freeway, over the Benicia-Martinez Bridge, up to Interstate 80 to join Route 113. From here on the journey started to be interesting, maybe because it was new territory for both of us and you know how we love to explore new places. We were driving north through a part of the Central Valley where the main industry is agriculture. Partly submerged fields were on either side of the road indicating that rice is the main crop in this area.

We entered a small town and saw a sign which said ‘Historic Knights Landing’. An ideal spot to stop and stretch our legs we thought as we had been driving for two hours. The town seemed to consist of just one street. Some of the houses were historic but we could not see any downtown area so it was a quick stop. Back on the road again, we crossed the mighty Sacramento River and headed for Yuba City. With apologies to the residents of that city but I was not impressed.  All we saw was one shopping center after another. We did stop at a Starbucks for a coffee though.

With Yuba City behind us we continued along Route 20 through Marysville towards Grass Valley. Our surroundings became more and more interesting. Ahead we could see the snow-capped Sierras in the distance and we began to climb into the foothills. On the map I noticed that the next town along was called Timbucto0 but we never saw any signs of it at all. Being curious I checked when I arrived home. There was indeed a town called Timbuctoo. Legend has it that a freed slave found gold in the area and asked that the town be named after Timbuktu in Africa where he was born. It was a booming town in the 1850′s when hydraulic mining was at its peak. When that form of mining was banned in 1884, the town slowly declined and now only the remains of one structure is left and Timbuctoo is officially a ghost town.

Gas light post in Nevada City. I guess somebody goes around each night lighting these.

Just before the small town of Penn Valley our directions were to turn left heading towards Lake Wildwood. Before we reached the lake we made another left onto a private road. Along this road we suddenly had the most amazing view in front of us of Yuba City and the Central Valley with the Sutter Buttes behind. Not long after that we arrived at the home of Chuck Frank, the owner of our log cabin. His home is also built from logs but is much larger than our cabin, Chuck, his wife Kathy and daughter Holly welcomed us into their home and took us onto their wrap around balcony. In one direction we had another view of the Sutter Buttes and below us a fast flowing creek, complete with several small waterfalls, with a heavily wooded ridge in front of us. Chuck pointed to where our cabin was but it was hidden behind some trees.

There was no way our Prius would be able to get down the slope to the cabin so we were given the keys to a four wheel drive truck. We loaded our luggage into it and set off. Chuck drove ahead in his ATV to show us the way. We could only to so far down in the SUV. The rest was on foot down a steep 300′ long rocky path to the cabin. And there was our home for the next three days – a lovely, one bedroom log cabin just above the babbling brook.  Total seclusion. Inside we had a living room, kitchenette and bathroom on the ground floor with a door onto a balcony overlooking the creek. The bedroom was in a loft and to get to it we had to climb a steep wooden ladder.  I felt like Heidi.

As soon as we had explored the cabin, we set off to walk along a track which led to the top of the waterfall. Chuck and Kathy said it was possible to pan for gold in the stream and in the cabin were a couple of pans and a metal detector. They gave us a few hints on how to look for gold. On this occasion we were just happy to soak in the view and take photos.

Earlier I had asked Chuck about wildlife.  There were plenty of deer and coyotes and maybe a few rattlesnakes. They have lived here for eight years and have never seen either a beer or a mountain lion near the cabin, but three weeks ago they did see three wild peafowl.

At 3.30 we made our way back up the path to the SUV, then on up to our car before heading into Nevada City which was about 15 miles away. We have booked seats for a show in town which starts at 8.15. Before that we wanted to take a walk around the town and get something to eat.

Nevada  City is a picture perfect town. Built in the gold rush days, the buildings are mostly old and lots of the houses are cute Victorians with lovely gardens. In most shop windows were displayed sepia photographs of Nevada City in the good old days. We checked all the menus posted outside restaurants on Broad Street to see where we wanted to eat tonight and Citronee appealed to us the most. It opened at 5 so, with time to kill, we went into the Mine Shaft for a drink beforehand. Inside it was dark and several TV sets were tuned to different stations. The two closest to us were showing a basketball and a baseball game. I won’t say it was crowded but it certainly was not empty. We were greeted by the barmaid and ordered a couple of beers – I always ask for a shandy which is beer with a dash of 7-Up. The atmosphere was friendly and casual and we struck up a conversation with another customer about basketball.

Downtown Nevada City

Just after 5, we sauntered up the Broad Street to Citronee. The restaurant is very pleasant inside and we were immediately shown to a table in the front part. At first we were the only customers sitting in that section though the back section had quite a few people in it. We ordered a starter – anchovies on crostini  - and sipped our wine as we waited. Just before our main course arrived our server came over and asked if we would mind moving to a different table. A party of 7 had walked in without a reservation and the only way they could fit them in was by moving us. Of course we were quite happy to oblige and as a thank you we didn’t have to pay for the starter. For our main course, Tom had filet mignon and I had chicken. Both dishes were superb. It was a great meal.

Our evening was not over as we had booked to see a show called ‘The Be-Bop Stop’ at Off Broadstreet on Commercial Street, which was only a short walk away. The theatre was not very large and set out in cabaret style. We had good seats towards the back on a slightly raised platform. We were sat at a small round table with a red check tablecloth. On the stage, a guitarist was playing well known songs from the fifties. He was good and had everybody singing along. The atmosphere was very relaxed and friendly. We had drinks served at the table. Tom had a hazelnut coffee and I had a hot chocolate. The show was described as ‘A Nostalgic Musical Comedy’. We were not really expecting a top notch performance, afterall Nevada City is a small rural town, but we were very pleasantly surprised. The plot, costumes, acting and especially the singing were marvelous. During the intermission we ordered deserts. Tom had the chocolate truffle cheesecake and I had Maui Pie. Scrummy.

What a fantastic night out we had in Nevada City. All we had to do was to find our way back to the cabin and negotiate our way down the track and then the walk to our destination. Of course a flashlight is an absolute must. Fifteen minutes later we were ensconced inside, looking out of the large picture window at the myriad stars and with the sound of the creek lulling us to sleep.

Related posts:

1. Daybreak Cafe, Penn Valley
2. Bridgeport, Gold Country
3. Malakoff Diggins State Historic Park, Gold Country

Oops, pardon me! Must have been that squid I had last night.

Continuing on our visit to Ano Nuevo we’re heading down the trail towards the point and the elephant seals.

(Click on the photos for larger versions)

To the right of the path was a small pond. Further on there is a wooden viewing platform with information boards about the birds which frequent the pond and a couple of rare visitors which have been spotted there. Garter Snakes and the endangered the California Red-legged Frog have made their homes here.

A trail to Cove Beach is off to the left. Down below I could see the beach and I ventured a short way down but didn’t go all the way as we were anxious to see the elephant seals. A nearby sign warns you not to get too close to the cliff edge and a big information board explained about the crumbling cliffs. Another sign warned of poison oak.

About half way down the Ano Nuevo Trail is the boundary of the Wildlife Protection Area. Here is the staging area where the docent led tours commence during the December to March period. There are information boards, a bench and a restroom nearby. At this time of the year there are no restrictions, so we carried on.

The path became muddy and there were some huge puddles which we had to negotiate. The water in some of them looked oily and I wandered what caused it. Tom was worried that it was run-off from farmland further inland. At one point, a plank had been placed over one of the puddles. Then the path became sandy and soon we were climbing our first sand dune.

The first major spot to get up close to the elephant seals is at South Point. Here there was a roped off area and just beyond that lots of seals laying

Well hello there. Elephant seal pup at Ano Nuevo

about on the sand. Most of them were the pups born earlier this year.  Their mums feed them for about a month and then left them to fend for themselves and they never return to them. The pups live off their fat for a couple of months. During that time they go through their first molt and then they head for the ocean. At this time, they are very vulnerable. Lurking offshore are sharks and killer whales. There were also a number of female seals on the beach. They had hauled ashore for their annual molt.

I must admit the seals have a certain smell about them. It is not particularly offensive but, on the other hand, it is not the most attractive aroma around. They are a bit noisy as well. Think of a burp and then magnify it five times. The males are very noisy and can really bellow.

We left the South Point viewing area and returned to the trail. The path became extremely muddy. When I was last here several years ago we walked all the way to North Point but that trail was closed. Today the trail ends at Bright Beach where there are two spots to view the seals. We picked the one on the right and the only other person there was a docent. Here there were a lot more seals than at South Point.

The docent, Randy Baum, spent a long time to talking to us and gave us lots of fascinating information about the seals. He explained that the seals spend most of their lives at sea. On land they look ungainly, though it is surprising how quickly they can move at times, but in the ocean they are in their element. They dive to about 2,000 feet but the record dive has been recorded at over 5,000 feet. One of the reasons they can dive so deep is because all the oxygen they need is in their blood and their body fat is compressed, allowing them to sink further. Tom noticed that one of the seals had something on its head. He thought it was a growth of some sort but Randy explained that this was an electronic device which is attached to the head to record the depth and duration of dives. When the seal molts, the device falls off and it can be recovered from the beach.

Last look at Ano Nuevo Island as we head back

As we chatted, I noticed several of the larger seals, probably four year old males, started moving towards the water. They sure can move fast for about 20 yards. Suddenly there were about six of them, all heading down the beach. Even Randy did not now why they were all on the move at the same time. Tom surmised it was because the weather had warmed up and they wanted to cool off. I reckoned they had taken bets as to who would reach the water first. I’ve seen a few seals haul themselves out of the ocean and up the beach but this is the first time I’ve seen any making their way into the water.

On the walk back to the parking lot we bypassed the route to South Beach. We walked up a dune and were confronted by a wondrous view all around. The sun had now appeared and the ocean was sparkling. The views in one direction were to the north, out to the west was Ano Nuevo Island and ahead there were views down the coast towards Monterey. We stopped at a convenient bench to admire the view for a few minutes and to bask in the sunshine.

At the end, I took a detour to go to look at what I thought was the Visitor Center but a big sign indicated it was the Marine Education Center and it was closed. I walked behind it to find another couple of buildings. One was the Old Creamery – it also had a sign announcing it was the Ranger Station – and the other was the old horse barn. An information board told me that the Marine Education Center is also the Visitor Center and that originally is was the cow barn when this was a thriving dairy  farm called the Steele Ranch.

We made our way back to the car park and to headed to Pescadero for lunch. In Duarte’s we sat at the bar and consumed a marvelous crab sandwich while chatting to our neighbor. It was the end of a perfect day.

Related posts:

1. Ano Nuevo – Part 1
2. Nuevo Southwest Grill, Santa Cruz