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- Willow Ridge Trail rises out of Los Cruzeros
I stare up at the narrow Willow Ridge Trail which climbs out of the valley here and is my route today over the mountains. - Heading up out of Los Cruzeros along the Willow Ridge Trail.
Heading up the lower part of the Willow Ridge Trail, looking back down to Los Cruzeros. The Mahoney Meadows Road that I just rode down is visible in the background descending down to the dry Coyote Creek bed. Beginning the hardest work of the day... Almost none of this trail is ridable uphill on a 10-ton bike. - Poison oak woods on Willow Ridge Trail
Willow Ridge Trail passes through a woodsy area for half a mile or so, and there's no breeze in here, just heat. Beautiful scenery, but tough with a bike. A few downed trees provide obstacles to get the bike past, while encroaching poison oak all along this narrow section brush up against my saddlebags (a hiker could easily avoid it though). - Willow Ridge Trail rises out of the poison oak forest to a more meadowy area.
Willow Ridge Trail slowly snakes upward out of the woods to a more open area where the sun is hotter, but there's a bit of a nice, refreshing breeze here. - Break time on the lower-middle section of Willow Ridge Trail!
Nice place for a break. - One of many steep sections on Willow Ridge Trail
It's pretty steep here; I'm already tired from dragging the bike just this far, and I've got a lot more of this ahead of me still. - A rare flat stretch along Willlow Ridge Trail
Ah, a brief, short, flat section along the trail where I could get on the bike again and ride a tenth of a mile or so. - Looking back down another steep part of the trail.
Yes, this trail is steep in places ... - Big manzanita along the trail.
I had a lot of problems at this point and had to drag the 10-ton bike across the trail and back, creating my own switchbacks which aren't part of the trail. I'm hot and tired, and the temperature must be around 90 degrees. I'm going through lots and lots of water. - Approaching Willow Spring
Getting close to Willow Spring! - Willow Spring itself
I made it, finally, to Willow Spring. I'm almost out of water, so I stop here to filter some of the spring water that is piped into the bin here. The end of my water purifier picks up some green slimy stuff from the water, but I wipe it off and ignore it. - Top of the Willow Ridge Trail, where it meets Willow Ridge Road, also called "roller coaster ridge"
Wow, I've finally reached the top of Willow Ridge Trail. It seemed like this moment would never come as I dragged my bike so slowly up the trail's 1.6 miles. Seems like it shouldn't have taken me all afternoon to get up here! - Up on the ridge finally on Willow Springs Road.
Up on the ridge finally on Willow Springs Road. I haven't passed the high point yet, but it feels like I have after having conquered the steep and narrow Willow Springs Trail. - Sunset approaching along Willow Ridge Road, getting higher.
Sunset approaching along Willow Ridge Road as I head toward Mississippi Lake, still several miles away. - Up on top of it all on Willow Ridge Road.
Up on top of it all on Willow Ridge Road. I'm up around 2500 feet. The Silicon Valley suburb of Morgan Hill is far off in the distance some 2500 feet below the cloud layer that is somewhat visible filling in the space between the distant hilltops, looking like haze. - Willow Ridge Road, lots of steep ups and downs as it rides on the ridge top. I have to drag the bike up some of the steep hills
Willow Ridge Road, lots of steep ups and downs as it rides on the ridge top. I have to drag the bike up some of the steep hills, but sometimes I can get enough speed going down one hill to propel me to the top of the next one, or most of the way at least. - My last decent photo along Willow Ridge Road before it gets dark.
My last decent photo along Willow Ridge Road before it gets dark. I ride the last two miles into Mississippi Lake with my bright headlight turned on. - Morning at Mississippi Lake with a bit of shade thanks to the ramada.
Morning at Mississippi Lake with a bit of shade thanks to the ramada. It must be in the high 80s already, so any shade really helps! There's no one to be seen anywhere, except me. On a hot weekend like this, most people flock to the cooler parks on the other side of Silicon Valley, which is fine for those of us looking for solitude. - Mississippi Lake itself behind the tent.
Mississippi Lake itself behind the tent. The water here, even after being filtered, tastes like grass and algae, unless it's chilled. I had hoped to venture onward today to the Mustang Flat area, but I'm exhausted from yesterday's trek to get here and not ready for another long bike ride today. Instead, I decide it's time for a short ride to Bear Spring a mile away to fill up with some better-tasting water. - Bear Spring Road heads northward away from Mississippi Lake.
Bear Spring Road heads up a dry (at this time of year) creek at the north end of Mississippi Lake. - Bear Spring Road meanders through the grassland along the dry creek.
Bear Spring Road meanders through the grassland along the dry creek. - The tub at Bear Spring is full of nice cool water.
The tub at Bear Spring is full of nice cool water. - I go for a walk up one of the rocky hills by Bear Spring.
I go for a walk up one of the rocky hills by Bear Spring. - Pumping water from Bear Spring.
Pumping water from Bear Spring. - Standing in a patch of stachys albens (?)
Standing in a patch of stachys albens (?) growing in the now-dry creekbed. This looks and smells like the same stachys plants that I have growing along my driveway, but mine are much, much lower to the ground. - These stachys (?) plants fill the entire creek bed.
These stachys (?) plants fill the entire creek bed. - Close-up of the plants and their blossom stacks.
Close-up of the plants and their blossom stacks. - Big pine cones litter the trail near Bear Spring.
Big pine cones litter the trail near Bear Spring. - Sometimes, the "road" rises above the dry creek briefly and then rolls back down to meet it again.
Heading back to Mississippi Lake with my water bottles full. Sometimes, the "road" rises above the dry creek briefly and then rolls back down to meet it again. - Riding along Bear Spring Road back toward Mississippi Lake.
Riding along Bear Spring Road back toward Mississippi Lake. - One last hummingbird-attracting bloom remains on this thistle, which I believe is the California native red thistle.
One last hummingbird-attracting bloom remains on this thistle, which I believe is the California native red thistle. - Bear Spring Road (it's a trail, really) crosses the dry creek several times.
Bear Spring Road (it's a trail, really) crosses the dry creek several times. - After spending a couple of hours back at my tent by the lake and having lunch...
After spending a couple of hours back at my tent by the lake and having lunch and relaxing, I leave for a couple of hours on a ride toward Board Spring, a few miles south of Mississippi Lake. It is a hot day and I'm surprised at how much water I've drank already. I keep drinking and drinking, even though the water is quite warm and not refreshing... The road on the west side of the lake is quite shady in places south of the ramada camp site. - The dam crossing the south end of Mississippi Lake.
The dam crossing the south end of Mississippi Lake. - View north up Mississippi Lake from the dam at the lake's south end.
View north up the lake; my campsite with the ramada is about a mile away at the other end of the lake to your left. All those grasses growing in the lake presumably create the grassy taste of the lake water. - The road rises up away from the lake toward County Line Road and Board Spring.
The road rises up away from the lake toward County Line Road and Board Spring. - Elderly chamise bush along County Line Road.
Elderly chamise bush along County Line Road. - I walk down the Hartman Trail a few hundred feet and look back up toward County Line Road.
I walk down the Hartman Trail a few hundred feet and look back up toward County Line Road. - Bike standing on the edge of County Line Road at the trailhead of the Hartman Trail (closed to bikes)
Bike standing on the edge of County Line Road at the trailhead of the Hartman Trail (closed to bikes), which descends down into the Orestimba Valley. Would make a great hike. - County Line Road is picturesque as it winds through chaparral and oak woodlands with amazing views off to the east
County Line Road is picturesque as it winds through chaparral and oak woodlands with amazing views off to the east (left) toward the Orestimba Valley. I had originally considered heading all the way down to that valley today before deciding that I need a "day off." - The short (1/3-mile-long) road to Board Spring narrows.
The short (1/3-mile-long) road to Board Spring narrows and is fairly grown in with grasses and sagebrush in places. - Pumping water at Board Spring.
Pumping water at Board Spring. - At the end of the road is the spring and I'm ready to start pumping!
At the end of the road is the spring and I'm ready to start pumping! - Enjoying the view from Board Spring out across the Orestimba Valley.
Enjoying the view from Board Spring out across the Orestimba Valley. - Board Spring Road veers off County Line Road into the brush in the middle of the photo on a slight downhill along the edge of the mountain.
Board Spring Road veers off County Line Road into the brush in the middle of the photo on a slight downhill along the edge of the mountain. - On the way back to my campsite at Mississippi Lake, I stop to take photos along County Line Road on the ridge top
On the way back to my campsite at Mississippi Lake, I stop to take photos along County Line Road on the ridge top. - Back at my Mississippi Lake campsite under the ramada and old oak trees for the evening.
Back at my Mississippi Lake campsite under the ramada and old oak trees for the evening. - Moonlight (almost a full moon) at Mississippi Lake.
Moonlight (almost a full moon) at Mississippi Lake. - Packing up in the morning to leave Mississippi Lake.
Packing up in the morning to leave Mississippi Lake. Packing up is not my favorite job! - Leaving Mississippi Lake on the old road.
Leaving Mississippi Lake on the old road. - A slow and mostly gentle climb up from Mississippi Lake to County Line Road, which rides along the ridge.
A slow and mostly gentle climb up from Mississippi Lake to County Line Road, which rides along the ridge. - After a mile or so, I've made it up to ridge on County Line Rd, with great views looking back down to Mississippi Lake
I've made it up to ridge on County Line Rd, with great views looking back down to Mississippi lake for a while. The ramada is hidden in the oak trees, but the nearby outhouse is visible to the centre-right. The road visible in the distance on the hill to the right is Willow Ridge Road (aka "roller coaster ridge"), which is the route that I took to get to Mississippi Lake two nights ago. - County Line Road climbs slowly as the ridge rises.
County Line Road climbs slowly as the ridge rises. - Some amazing views from County Line Road across the Orestimba Wilderness and the ridgetops beyond.
Some amazing views from County Line Road across the Orestimba Wilderness and the ridgetops beyond. - County Line Road slowly rises along the ridge.
County Line Road slowly rises along the ridge. - Heading toward the top of Bear Mountain, County Line Road passes through oaks and chamise chapparal.
Heading toward the top of Bear Mountain, County Line Road passes through oaks and chamise chapparal. A steep drop-off into the valley 1000 feet below awaits anyone who veers off the right side of the road. I passed an oncoming maintenance vehicle along this stretch of the road and this was the only close contact I had with another human being during my three nights out in the Henry Coe backcountry. (While at Mississippi Lake, I once also saw two people in the distance further down alongside the lake.) - The views from County Line Road across Orestimba Valley are quite impressive along the upper parts of County Line Road.
The views from County Line Road across Orestimba Valley are quite impressive along the upper parts of County Line Road. Just don't slip off the side of the road, or nobody will find you for a long time! - An old gate on County Line Road before the final rise where County Line Road veers westward and becomes Bear Mountain Road.
An old gate on County Line Road before the final rise whre County Line Road veers westward and becomes Bear Mountain Road. - County Line Road rolls up and down along the ridge as it rises to reach the summit of Bear Mountain Road.
County Line Road rolls up and down along the ridge as it rises to reach the summit of Bear Mountain Road. - One final big hill at the top of County Line Road, which is easier for me to drag my bike up, rather than try to ride it.
One final big hill at the top of County Line Road, which is easier for me to drag my bike up, rather than try to ride it. - At the top of Bear Mountain Road.
At the top of Bear Mountain Road. The road drops a big 1250 feet in just over three miles, with several steep uphills on the way down, so the downhills can be steep! - Bear Mountain Road drops off toward the valley below me.
Bear Mountain Road drops off toward the valley below me. - With much downhill to come, I look back up at the distance I've already dropped down.
With much downhill to come, I look back up at the distance I've already dropped down. - At the junction of the Bear Creek Trail: Bear Mountain Road heads downhill
At the junction of the Bear Creek Trail, that trail heads off to the left (straight), while Bear Mountain Road heads downhill to my right. - Bear Mountain Road drops off steeply several times on the way down.
Bear Mountain Road drops off steeply several times on the way down. - There are many uphills on the way down.
There are many uphills on the way down. These can be fun if you get a lot of speed going and see how far up the hill you can go with your momentum gained from riding down. - Another drop-off on Bear Mountain Road.
Another drop-off on Bear Mountain Road. - More rolling ups and downs on the way down.
More rolling ups and downs on the way down. - Looking back up one of the short steep hills that I just came down on Bear Mountain Road.
Looking back up one of the short steep hills that I just came down on Bear Mountain Road. - More ups on the way down.
More ups on the way down. - The bottom of the road in the canyon at Coyote Creek becomes visible.
The bottom of the road in the canyon at Coyote Creek becomes visible. - Getting closer to Coyote Creek at the bottom of Bear Mountain Road.
Getting closer to Coyote Creek at the bottom of Bear Mountain Road. - One steep final hill on Bear Mountain Road to the canyon bottom at Coyote Creek. This segment is steep...
One steep final hill on Bear Mountain Road to the canyon bottom at Coyote Creek. This segment is steep and I'm glad I'm coming down rather than attempting to go up it! - The bottom of Bear Mountain Road crosses Coyote Creek, which is dry at this time of year.
The bottom of Bear Mountain Road crosses Coyote Creek, which is dry at this time of year. The gravel area that you see crossing the road would be hidden by flowing water during the wetter months. - The road crosses Coyote Creek several times; here is another crossing.
The road crosses Coyote Creek several times; here is another crossing. - I approach my destination down here in the canyon, Arnold Horse Camp
As I approach my destination down here in the canyon, Arnold Horse Camp, I pass by a small area where the Creek has not completely dried up yet. There's not much water left, but I take a note of it in case I have a problem with the water at Arnold Horse Camp and have to backtrack to this location to purify some water. It looks bad, but at the same time last year I drank from similar residual pools of water along here (filtered of course) and the water tasted quite good (to my surprise)! - Another dry crossing of Coyote Creek as I approach Arnold Horse Camp.
Another dry crossing of Coyote Creek as I approach Arnold Horse Camp. - Arnold Horse Camp, my destination for the day, is hidden in the trees at the centre-right, up the road from the dry Coyote Creek
Arnold Horse Camp, my destination for the day, is hidden in the trees at the centre-right, up the road from the dry Coyote Creek through the grass. - Toads living in the spring water at Arnold Horse Camp.
I quickly check out the spring water that collects in a large tub and see that a family of small toads is living in the water there. I plunge the end of my water purifier in anyway and pull out some clean water to fill my water bottles. Despite the toads and their habits, the water tastes great once filtered, unlike grassy-tasting Mississippi Lake. - Inside the old cabin at Arnold Horse Camp is a bedroom equipped with a mattress, and probably hantavirus from the mouse dropping
Inside the old cabin at Arnold Horse Camp is a bedroom equipped with a mattress. For a moment, it's tempting to think of sleeping there, but with mouse droppings everywhere inside (think hantavirus), it's best to get out of the cabin and stay out. - Living room in the cabin at Arnold Horse Camp
Living room in the cabin at Arnold Horse Camp - Decomposed scarf and water bottle decorate the living room wall.
An old decomposed scarf (at least I think that's what it is) and plastic water bottle are hanging on the living room wall. - The kitchen at the cabin at Arnold Horse Camp
Not much remains of the old kitchen; the counters and appliances have been removed. - The cabin at Arnold Horse Camp sits in the shelter of a big tin roof
A view of the Arnold Horse Camp cabin hiding in the shade of the big tin roof built above it. A big oak tree grows up through the tin roof shelter. - Just a drip of water from the water spigot.
The water spigot from the spring hardly gives any water. - Nice cool water is piped from the spring into this big Rubbermaid tub. Two creaky chairs invite visitors, sort of.
Nice cool water is piped from the spring into this big Rubbermaid tub. Two creaky chairs invite visitors, sort of. - Approaching the cabin at Arnold Horse Camp.
Approaching the cabin at Arnold Horse Camp. - Walking the bike up the short road to Arnold Horse Camp.
Walking the bike up the short road to Arnold Horse Camp. - The old corral
The old corral. - My tent is set up, home is ready for the night!
My tent is set up, home is ready for the night! - Starting a short hike down the Narrows Trail
But it only took me a few hours to get here and the sun won't be going down for another two hours. I'll take advantage of the time to do a short hike down the Narrows Trail in the dry creekbed. - The Narrows Trail runs along the dry Coyote Creek.
The Narrows Trail runs along the dry Coyote Creek, and is probably rather muddy and sometimes underwater during the wet winter months. I'm going to follow the trail almost a mile down to the Los Cruzeros crossing of Coyote Creek, where I crossed a few days ago on the way up to Mississippi Lake. - The dry creek bed of Coyote Creek can be tiring to walk on after a while with all its small rocks
The dry creek bed of Coyote Creek can be tiring to walk on after a while with all its small rocks, but sometimes it's easier to follow than the trail. - A small pool of water remains from last year's wet season.
A small pool of water remains from last year's wet season. - Animal bones along the creekbed.
Animal bones along the creekbed. - The trail follows the creek, but sometimes rises up the bordering hills a bit.
The trail follows the creek, but sometimes rises up the bordering hills a bit. - A big grass tuft (muhlenbergia, I think) sits in the dry creek bed.
I see a big grass tuft (muhlenbergia, I think) sits in the dry creek bed, waiting for the fall rains that will begin in earnest in a month or two. - Old oaks along the dry Coyote Creek, some 1200 feet above San Jose and Silicon Valley
After almost a mile, I reach Los Cruzeros and turn back toward Arnold Horse Camp. The sun is descending slowly and I probably won't get to see any of the glorious sunset from down here in the canyon (even though I'm still some 1200 feet above San Jose and Silicon Valley). - Old corral fence and tarweed
On the way back, I pass by the remains of another old corral and its fence. Much tarweed (the yellow flowers) growing around here; at least I think that's what it is. - A trail of thousands of ants stretches across the Narrows Trail
The faint dark line that crosses the footpath and heads into the grass is a dense trail of thousands of ants, all going somewhere, apparently carrying something. I wonder how many years these ants have been following this trail. - More tarweed
More tarweed (if that's what it is) along the trail. It smells great, almost a lemony evergreen smell, similar to woolly blue curls (trichostema lanatum). Unfortunately, the plant leaves lots of tiny sticky burs that attach themselves to socks and legs by the dozens, if not hundreds. I'll probably discard all the socks I've worn during this camping trip. - Red bugs
I don't know what this plant is or what these neato red bugs are. - Madia elegans growing along the Narrows Trail
Madia elegans growing along the trail as I get closer to Arnold Horse Camp. These give off a delicious pineapple-like scent. I've planted this California native annual in my garden and it gets much bigger than this in a garden setting where it gets a bit more summer water than it does here. - Back at Arnold Horse Camp, I guzzle lots more water.
Back at Arnold Horse Camp, I guzzle lots more water. I'm still feeling a bit dehydrated even though I've been drinking water all day. It has been another hot day and it probably reached 90 degrees. With cooler parks available on the other side of Silicon Valley, this probably explains why there's almost never anyone out here in Henry Coe State Park's backcountry on a Labor Day weekend. I'm taking advantage of the opportunity for solitude and really enjoying it. - Time to prepare yet another add-boiling-water-to-bag camper's meal.
Now it's time to prepare yet another add-boiling-water-to-bag camper's meal. In a primitive camping situation like this, it's always nice to have a table and not have to put everything on the ground! - I sat on that old kitchen chair next to the spring tub and several toads jumped out of the cracks in the worn-out upholstery!
I sat on that old kitchen chair next to the spring tub and several toads jumped out of the cracks in the worn-out upholstery. The toads are living inside the chair! I wonder how many generations of toads have been born and grown up there... - Morning near Arnold Horse camp. Last night at about 23h, I moved the tent and everything.
Morning near Arnold Horse camp. Last night at about 23h, I moved the tent and everything from up here at the horse camp down into the creek bed below due to all the noise from mice, rats, squirrels, or who knows what running constantly across the tin roof above the structure. The nearly constant noise began as soon as the sun went down and for a while I thought I might be able to fall asleep despite it. - The tent in the canyon down by dry Coyote Creek.
The tent down by dry Coyote Creek. I had been really looking forward to sleeping late in the shade up at the horse camp, but instead I wake up being cooked in the tent from the hot morning sun! - The tent dismantled, everything packed up and ready to mount on the bike for the return ride to downtown San Jose today.
The tent dismantled, everything packed up and ready to mount on the bike for the return ride to downtown San Jose today. - I walk the bike up the creek canyon to the bottom of Blue Ridge Road, where I begin the first climb of the day.
I walk the bike up the creek canyon to the bottom of Blue Ridge Road, where I begin the first climb of the day. - Rising slowly up Blue Ridge Road and looking back down toward the Coyote Creek canyon where I started a while ago.
Rising slowly up Blue Ridge Road and looking back down toward the Coyote Creek canyon where I started a while ago. A lot of this road is too steep for me to ride with the loaded-down bike, so I drag the bike and take many water breaks under the oak trees along the way. - I finally make it up to the little plateau around 1800 feet (Arnold Horse Camp sits down below in the canyon at about 1250 feet)
I finally make it up to the little plateau around 1800 feet (Arnold Horse Camp sits down below in the canyon at about 1250 feet). Classic Henry Coe Park brilliant colors for this time of year: golden yellow, sky blue and some dark green. - I turn on Poverty Flat Rd and begin heading out of the park the same way I came in.
I turn on Poverty Flat Rd and begin heading out of the park the same way I came in. The demanding part of the trek will come a bit later. For now, the road drops a couple hundred feet and enters the forested area to the centre-right. - Entering the forested area, still above the canyon.
Entering the forested area, still above the canyon. - Some scenic drop-offs alongside the road into the canyon below.
Some scenic drop-offs alongside the road into the canyon below--don't ride too close to the edge! - Snake track across the road near the junction of Jackass Trail.
Snake track across the road near the junction of Jackass Trail. - I tackle the tough trek up Poverty Flat Road toward park headquarters.
After dipping down into the Coyote Creek canyon for the last time, I cross Poverty Flat and tackle the tough trek up Poverty Flat Road toward park headquarters. This switchback was fun to come down a few days ago, but not so easy to get back up. - This hill on Poverty Flat Road always kills me when I climb it.
This hill on Poverty Flat Road always kills me when I climb it. It feels steeper than it looks and I can only travel a few feet at a time, holding the bike tightly to keep it from slipping back at each pause. - Whew, the worst is over as I reach the upper stretches of Poverty Flat Road, which aren't quite as steep.
Whew, the worst is over as I reach the upper stretches of Poverty Flat Road, which aren't quite as steep. - After finally reaching Henry Coe Park's visitor centre at about 2600 feet, I take a long break and fill up on water.
After finally reaching Henry Coe Park's visitor centre at about 2600 feet, I take a long break and fill up on water before beginning the long descent back down to Silicon Valley near sea level. - The downhill on Dunne Avenue begins.
The downhill on Dunne Avenue begins. - Dunne Avenue winds its way slowly downward.
Dunne Avenue winds its way slowly downward. - Some amazing views of the Anderson Lake area on the way down.
Some amazing views of the Anderson Lake area on the way down. - Heading down the lower stretches of Dunne Avenue into the Silicon Valley town of Morgan Hill.
Heading down the lower stretches of Dunne Avenue into the Silicon Valley town of Morgan Hill. - Orchards along Monterey Road near Morgan Hill
Orchards along Monterey Road near Morgan Hill make the 22-mile ride from Morgan Hill to downtown San Jose more pleasant, even though the road is often quite busy, noisy and fast. - The old 15-mile stop restaurant, presumably 15 miles outside of downtown San Jose.
The old 15-mile stop restaurant, presumably 15 miles outside of downtown San Jose. - Approaching the recently built Bailey Road overpass across Monterey Road in the suburban sprawl of south San Jose
Approaching the recently built Bailey Road overpass across Monterey Road. Another ugly testimony to San Jose's commitment to suburban sprawl. - Entering San Jose's suburban sprawl along Monterey Road for real now, passing by a street called Grandwell Way.
Entering San Jose's suburban sprawl along Monterey Road for real now, passing by a street called Grandwell Way. - Monterey Road passes under the Blossom Hill Road underpass.
Monterey Road passes under the Blossom Hill Road underpass. Just another 9-10 miles to home in downtown San Jose! Not most people's idea of a nice bike ride, but the bike lanes do sometimes make the ride more enjoyable along such a busy artery. - Slight dust storm
- End-of-day haze at 108 degrees F (42 C)
- Sundown on the rocks
- Rock bubbles and crack
- Desert brush takes over an old stove in the Death Valley National Park backcountry
- Western tanager
- Arching pinyon pine in the highlands of Death Valley National Park.
- Future pinyon pine tree in the highlands of Death Valley National Park
- Lake Hill and Panamint Dunes at sunrise
- Sun shower
- Impact—that tiny spring out in the Death Valley backcountry did contain a wee bit of life-giving water.
- The 10-ton's bike driver is also ready to go to Henry Coe.
Well, sort of... The 35-mile ride to Henry Coe is never the easiest because the big hills are on the last 10 miles of the ride. Although I ride about 125 miles a week commuting to work by bike, it's mostly on flat ground. My first real hill ride of the summer was just two weekends ago, when I rode up to Mount Hamilton and back (50 miles round trip, up to 4200 feet and back). I had developed water under my right kneecap during my Death Valley bicycle trip in late April and gave it most of the summer to recuperate. It's an early day for me; I've managed to leave the house by noon. - The 10-ton bike is ready to leave downtown San José to head for Henry Coe State Park.
I'm only using my rear rack and saddlebags for this trip, but my load turns out to be so big and heavy that I wonder if I should have better balanced my load by using front saddlebags as well. Good thing I've decided not to bring any beverages along on this trip, as there isn't enough room to add anything else! - Riding down Monterey Road in south San José.
About five miles south of home, riding through suburban sprawl. It's not pretty, and there's lots of traffic, but it's a flat and efficient ride, without too many traffic signals. And a nice bike lane much of the way. - Still riding down Monterey Road, now about 15 miles from home, getting closer to the town of Morgan Hill.
About 45 minutes later, I'm still riding down Monterey Road. It's turning out to be a fairly warm day (in the 80s) and I'm starting to work up a bit of a sweat. This part of Monterey Road passes through a quasi-rural area of orchards and farms, but San José is planning a massive suburban-sprawl development for the future that will eliminate much of this. - Henry Coe State Park's land becomes visible on the distant hilltops at the centre of the photo.
Henry Coe is the second-largest State Park in California at about 87,000 acres (Anza-Borrego near San Diego is the largest). The land at the top of these distant hilltops is just the beginning of the park, which extends far back into the steep ridges and canyons of the backcountry beyond. - In the suburban town of Morgan Hill, I head up Dunne Avenue, which climbs to the top of the hills straight ahead.
After a short break in Morgan Hill's little downtown for refreshments and iced espresso, I turned off Monterey Road and am now heading up Dunne Avenue, which ends at Henry Coe State Park headquarters some 12 miles up the hill. The bike lane here is a nice touch, but the ride through the 101 freeway interchange, which I just crossed, can be intimidating to the uninitiated. Unfortunately, the bike lane disappears there during double free-right-turn lanes onto the freeway (which California bike-lane design standards allow). So, even though I know what I'm doing out "in the middle of the road" avoiding the on-ramps, motorists have occasionally reminded me that they don't know what I'm doing out there (where the bike lane would be if there were one). - Further up Dunne Avenue, well above Anderson Reservoir, looking back down toward Silicon Valley, Morgan Hill and San José.
The climb towards Henry Coe always gets slower the closer one gets. But I'm well up into the hills now and only have four or five miles (uphill) to go. As usual during the summer months, it's a few degrees warmer up here than down in the valley below. I'm starting to practice drinking more water than usual (doesn't matter if it's not cold any more), a skill that is absolutely required in order to succeed in physically demanding hot-weather activities. - Taking a short rest on Dunne Avenue in one of my favourite shady spots on the way to Henry Coe State Park.
I've bike-camped in Coe Park many times now, and I often stop right here for some relief from the sun and consume an energy bar (a Clif bar, usually) and more water. Much of this road becomes quite narrow after passing Anderson Reservoir and has no shoulder where stopping for a break would be practical. Also, there's almost no traffic up here beyond Anderson Reservoir, (a popular destination for noisy day-trippers) so the feeling of arriving in the wilderness is starting to set in, even though I'm not there yet. Once my break is over and I return to my slow uphill pedaling, the driver of a car on its way down the hill (probably from Coe Park) gives me a thumbs-up as he passes me. Cool! - Somewhat tired from the climb up Dunne Avenue, especially the steep upper section of the road, I arrive at Henry Coe State Park
It has been a long 35-mile ride from home, but I've done well. My load felt noticeably heavier (because it is, with eight days of supplies) on the way up the hill than on my previous trips up here. Best of all, my bad knee hasn't given me any problems yet. So I might be in better physical condition than I thought. I even made it up that one last short, steep rise just before Park Headquarters that often makes me stop. It's Sunday evening, and most people have left the park and are getting ready to go back to work tomorrow morning. So there's no one around. - The 10-ton bike enjoys the rest while I sign in for eight nights of backpacking using the Park's self-registration system.
OK, in my case it's "bikepacking" rather than backpacking. Henry Coe Park is known to be rather empty on weekdays, so it's useful to leave an itinerary on one's registration if travelling solo through the depths of park like I'm doing. The park is huge and there aren't many rangers patrolling. Cell phones don't work in most of the park, except on a few high ridges, so if you seriously injure yourself, you'll pretty much be left waiting for someone to find you. I'll be camping at the very nice Sierra View campsite tonight, where I've camped several times before. A great place to to get a wilderness feel without going very far. Just over a mile from Park Headquarters, it's located on an isolated meadow where you might feel quite alone. - After climbing a short, steep segment of Hobbs Road, the 10-ton bike gets stuck on the drainage ditch that must be crossed.
Most of the 1.5 mile trip from Park Headquarters to the Sierra View campsite is fairly easy, except for the short, steep grade on Hobbs Road just before the Sierra View Trail. This little piece of Hobbs Road is steep enough that one drags the bike up the hill a few feet at a time, holding the brake levers in the "on" position in between segments, so that the bike doesn't slip back down the hill, while catching one's breath. I'm both frustrated and laughing when I can't get the bike across the little drainage along Hobbs Road to get on the Sierra View Trail. Can the oak trees hear me cursing? The bike is really heavy, and I haven't built up much strength on day one of the trip, so it falls over when I try to lift it over the drainage. A few days from now, I'll probably feel like Superman, but that's not today! Awesome views from here. - Arriving at the Sierra View campsite.
I'm ready to unpack, home for the night. I have my own private spring up here (just up the trail, but bring your own water filter), privacy (a dead-end trail leads to this campsite) and great views. And my cell phone works here, not that I have any intention of using it tonight. - Getting ready to prepare an add-boiling-water-to-bag backpacking meal by moonlight at Sierra View campsite.
It's nearly full moon this week, which makes the nights especially beautiful. Tonight's instant backpacking meal is Alpine Aire Pepper Steak, which turns out to be quite good. - The Sierra View campsite in the morning.
A great place to wake up. I slept really well. However, there's not much shade here, which means that sleeping in late isn't possible due to the hot sun heating up the tent. I can tell that today will be hotter than yesterday. The suburban town of Gilroy is way down there and its lights are visible from up here at night. Monterey Bay is further off in the distance. This is in one of the higher areas of the park, and this campsite sits at about 2800 feet. Breakfast is coffee, two Zen Bakery cinnamon rolls and a Granny Smith apple. - I go for a short walk up the trail from the campsite to Sierra View Spring to filter enough water to get me to Mississippi Lake.
I'm not measuring, but I fill my 10-litre water bag about 2/3 full, and fill up my two-litre Camelbak. There are quite a few leaves decomposing in the spring tub, some of which I remove, and a bit of algae floating on the surface, but the water is reasonably clean and tastes good when filtered. There is still a trickle of fresh water coming into the spring tub, and a trickling overflow on the other side of the trail attracts a few yellow jackets. - A view of the small car campground at Henry Coe State Park from the Sierra View campsite.
The views from the Sierra View campsite are spectacular. The town of Morgan Hill can be seen down below. The car campground is adjacent to the Visitor Centre near the park entrance, and is the only part of the park open to regular motor vehicles. Most of the rest of Henry Coe State Park's 87,000 acres is backcountry open to hikers, bicyclists and horseback riders only. And there aren't all that many of any of those types of park users. Nonetheless, one needs to be alert to possibility of occasional motor vehicles on roads inside the Park. These vehicles belong to Park rangers or people who are allowed to access non-Park properties within or adjacent to the Park. - All packed up and ready to leave Sierra View; on toward Mississippi Lake!
Mississippi Lake is about 12 miles away, more or less on the other side of the second ridge in the photo. I'll get out toward the third ridge later in the trip. It's going to be a long day. From here at about 2800 feet, I'll drop down to about 1200 feet at Poverty Flat, then climb over that lower ridge to about 1750 feet, then back down to about 1200 feet at Los Cruzeros, then up and over Willow Ridge, whose high point is around 2600 feet. It's already almost 13h, so I'm off to a rather late start, but I don't care. I'm on vacation and enjoying not being in a hurry for a change. - The old outhouse at Sierra View.
Sierra View has its own antique outhouse just up the hill from the campsite. And it's in the shade, which is nice in hot weather like this. - Heading down the trail away from the Sierra View campsite.
The trail to the Sierra View campsite passes through a shady area, which is where the spring is located. - At the end of the Sierra View trail, the 10-ton bike has to cross that little drainage gulley where it got stuck last night.
It's easier getting across this time since I'm heading downhill and don't have to lift the heavy bike up a couple of feet. I'm glad I'm heading down steep Hobbs Road here this morning, rather than up. - After descending that little steep piece of Hobbs Road, I ride down Manzanita Point Road across the meadow.
It's a mostly gentle downhill across this meadow, which is painted in a typical Henry Coe late-summer palette: golden yellow (grass), sky blue, and some dark green trim from the oaks and other trees. I will climb over that ridge in the distance (Willow Ridge) later today to get to Mississippi Lake on the other side. It's interesting to me how many people interpret the golden yellow of the dry grasses as brown and dead (and thus unappealing). Personally, I find the dry golden yellow grass against a bright blue sky to be a one of the more striking colour combinations that California landscapes have to offer. I do most of my visits to Coe Park in late summer, when the landscape it at its driest. While the greener landscapes of winter and spring have a beauty and lushness of their own, I find their verdant character at that time of year to be darker perhaps a bit more monotonous (I love yellow!). - I just descended 1000 feet in 1.7 miles down the steep Poverty Flat Road to the bottom of the canyon.
At the bottom of Poverty Flat Road is this dry-at-this-time-of-year crossing of Coyote Creek. I had a minor crash coming down Poverty Flat Road last year on a slippery (from powdered clay) switchback, and I was careful not to repeat that again this year! There are five campsites down here at Poverty Flat, and I've camped here a few times. On a hot weekday like today, there's nobody around anywhere, which suits me fine. Poverty Flat is only a third of a mile long (flat areas in Coe Park tend to be very short) and I ride across it to begin the climb out the other side of the canyon. I stop briefly at the modern concrete outhouse for a potty break (it's extremely hot inside) and then stand outside for a minutes in the shade of the outhouse, hiding from the sun. - After the short flat stretch of dirt road at the bottom of the canyon that is Poverty Flat, it's time to climb out of the canyon
The climb out of Poverty Flat toward the Jackass Trail and Mahoney Meadows Road is fairly steep, and most of it requires that the 10-ton bike be dragged up the hill. However, I am able to ride a few short parts of it. - I'm just about to reach the high point of this part of Poverty Flat Road, near the junction of the Jackass Trail.
I'm having some difficulty coaxing the 10-ton bike up this last little steep part. But I'm almost there! This stretch of Poverty Flat Road "only" rises about 550 feet in 1.5 miles. Steepness isn't the only factor that creates difficulty when it comes to dragging the 10-ton bike up a hill. Slipperiness of the road surface, caused by loose gravel or powdered clay dust, can prevent me from getting the traction that my feet require for me to be adequately braced me while I push or pull on the bike. Without enough traction, sometimes I slip backwards instead of pushing the bike forward a few feet. Immediately after taking this photo, two pick-up trucks drive slowly over the hill and I have to rush out and pull the bike off the road to let them pass. They would be the last people I see for four days. - I finally meet the junction of Poverty Flat Road and Mahoney Meadows Road, and begin a short, fun, and steep downhill.
Yee-haw! I will descend 350 feet in 0.5 miles down this road to the bottom of the canyon below (not visible in photo) to the next crossing of now-dry Coyote Creek at Los Cruzeros. Mississippi Lake, today's destination, is on the other side of Willow Ridge, the big hill in front of me here that needs to be climbed. Did someone say that yellow, blue and green aren't beautiful, and that California is all dry and ugly at this time of year? - The beginning of the hill on Mahoney Meadows Road that I'm about to descend.
Yeah, it's steep. Steep enough that I've decided to walk down this short slope before getting on the bike. A fully loaded bike (or motorcycle for that matter) can be quite unstable. If there's any doubt whatsoever about whether a trail segment here is ridable or not, walk the bike. Cell phones don't work in most of this park, and it might be days before anyone finds your injured body out here after a crash. - Well, that short downhill was fun! At the bottom of the hill, I reach Los Cruzeros and take a break.
There are several campsites scattered around here, which is usually underwater during the winter months (this is another part of Coyote Creek). There is a little bit of shade here from the oak trees, so I take advantage of it. Another Clif bar, and more water of course. It's definitely a hot day today. I bet it has reached 90 degrees (Fahrenheit). - I begin the dreaded climb up the Willow Ridge Trail that will take me to the top of Willow Ridge above Mississippi Lake.
It starts out fairly easy and, at first, has great views back down to Los Cruzeros and across the mountains. The road in the middleground winding down the hill is the Mahoney Meadows Road that I just descended from Poverty Flat Road to Los Cruzeros. "Dreaded climb?" Well, this is the third time that I'm climbing Willow Ridge Trail. The trail rises about 1200 feet in 1.6 miles. The 10-ton bike (or is it a dead horse?) must be dragged upward most of that distance, little by little, which gives the body quite a work-out, for which it is not yet ready on just day two of a bikepacking trip. - As Willow Ridge Trail rises, it passes through a brushy area with pretty red-leaved poison oak reaching out into the trail.
The 10-ton bike really doesn't want to be dragged over this log again (the third time in three years) and tips over backwards, standing on its hind feet in defiance. I dislike this part of Willow Ridge Trail. This is the third consecutive Labour Day weekend that I've come to Coe Park and used this route. I'm always starting to work up a sweat when I reach here, but the brush seems to prevent air flow, so there's a stifling feeling that I get when I pass through here. The narrow trail means that I, or the 10-ton bike's big fat saddlebags, or all of us, brush up against poison oak while passing through here. Despite my many allergies, I presume from having used this trail that I might not be allergic to poison oak. Still, I'm not about to intentionally rub up against poison oak twigs intentionally to test it further. The difficulty I'm having getting the 10-ton bike over this log reminds me how much heavier my load is this year than on previous visits, when I was only staying three or four nights, rather than eight. - A benign switchback on Willow Ridge Trail just beyond the log in the poison oak grove gives me a few more problems.
I'm trying to keep the bike (and myself) on the two-foot wide trail without it slipping and falling into the adjacent poison oak while I negotiate the tight corner. Why is such a simple concept proving to be so difficult in execution? - Phew, Willow Ridge Trail pops out of the poison oak grove and crosses an open area where there's a bit of a breeze.
It's a hot day, so I wouldn't call the breeze "cool," but the air flow in this open area sure is welcome after the stuffy air back in the poison oak grove. It scares me that I'm already feeling exhausted (OK, beyond exhausted), so I take a much-needed break here. How will I make it all the way to the top of this hill? I can still see the Los Cruzeros area down in the canyon below, so I haven't even risen risen that much yet! I've just started having odd leg and foot cramps that I've never experienced before and which are making walking difficult. I've read about things like this being caused by an electrolyte imbalance, so I start eating some salty potato chips after eating a Clif bar, in case it helps. - A little higher up on Willow Ridge Trail is a short level stretch that lasts for about a tenth of a mile.
I happily remount the bike here and ride it the short flat distance before getting off and returning to dragging it up more hill. Yes, I do remember this easy spot, a brief moment of relief that teased my senses during last year's trip. The Willow Ridge Trail can be seen climbing further in the middle of the photo. It looks so easy in the photo, and is probably an easier climb for backpackers without a 10-ton bike! - The same resting location as in the previous photo, but looking back down Willow Ridge Trail.
Gorgeous end-of-day light. The steepness of that little incline I just trudged up is somewhat concealed by the vegetation along the trail. The 10-ton bike waits patiently for me to finish my Clif bar. An important technique in bike-dragging is to choose the most level spots possible for stopping. This decreases the amount of energy needed to hold the bike (and oneself) in place without roll-back, while getting ready to advance a few feet further. - This manzanita is all pretty and red in the late-afternoon sun and takes my mind off the pain of climbing this hill.
I think this tree is half-dead, but I'm too tired to investigate further. The red leaves make a nice photo. Just beyond this tree, I reach the "dreaded steep spot" on this trail that I remember from last year's trip. I have been thinking that I must have already climbed that bad spot further back, and that it wasn't as tough as I remember. But suddenly, I realize that I didn't, and that I'm "there" now. - My next break spot, a little higher again up Willow Ridge Trail, eating yet another Clif bar, drinking yet more water.
I must make it to the top, no matter how many breaks I must take along the way! I'm still feeling exhausted and sore, but at least those nasty leg cramps have disappeared. The 10-ton bike is sitting on a fairly level segment here after coming up a short slope that felt rather vertical, though it doesn't look it. Awesome scenery here, but I'm too fatigued and too focused on my goal of reaching Mississippi Lake today to appreciate it fully. It just occurred to me that maybe the trail isn't that steep after all; maybe the problem is just that I'm just tired. - I finally make it to Willow Ridge Spring, which means that I'm close to the top and the hardest part is over. Sort of.
I'm almost out of water, though I didn't expect to run out before Mississippi Lake. But I've been drinking constantly (6-8 litres) due to the hot weather (around 90 degrees F). I get out my water filter and replenish my reserves from the Willow Ridge Spring tub. Willow Ridge Spring is not flowing right now, but the tub is still full. There's a fair amount of algae floating in the water, which sticks to my filter, but the water tastes pretty good after filtering. Better yet, it's cooler than the almost-sickening warm water I've been drinking the past few hours. At this point, I'm far beyond exhausted. Too tired to continue, but I'll continue anyway. The batteries in my camera have worn out and I'm too tired and lazy to change them (it's a big job), so no more photos today. The sun is setting, so I ride the final five miles to the prized campsite at the north end of Mississippi Lake on Willow Ridge Road in the dark, aided by the beautiful full moon and my bike's headlight. A glorious ride that's a test of my endurance. The temperature remains quite warm after sunset and I don't need to put on a sweater or long pants. Willow Ridge Road theoretically descends from 2600 feet to 2200 feet at Mississippi Lake, but there are numerous long and steep ups and down as the road rides the ridgetops on the way "down." Sometimes I accumulate enough momentum going down one steep incline to make it most of the way up the next one. I've never counted how many ridges are on this stretch of road, could there be a dozen? There's a reason it is often called "Roller Coaster Ridge" and avoided by many hikers. I arrive in the moon-lit darkness of Mississippi Lake at 21h45, hungry, but almost unable to eat. I force myself to eat anyway, slowly, mostly potato chips, knowing how much I need food, and how much better I'll feel tomorrow morning for having done so (that is, if I ever wake up again). - The "dreaded steep part" where I must remove my heavy saddlebags from the bike and walk them up the hill separately.
This little hill doesn't seem like it should be any tougher than other steep stretches of the trail, but I just can't get any traction here. My feet keep slipping back when I try to push the bike up. Last year I made it up this hill by zigzagging back-and-forth across the trail, stopping in the grass on either side where there is more traction. The bike was unwieldy enough last year, but it's even heavier today, so I won't even bother trying that trick again. Removing the saddlebags from the bike and carrying them up to the top of the hill separately turns out to be an easy solution. The bike is still down there on the ground hidden by the two tiny manzanitas growing in the middle of the trail. I'll go back down and get it after I take this photo. (No, I don't know why there's a piece of powder-blue ribbon tied to that manzanita tree in front of me...) Wow, it's 19h12 and I've been on this 1.6-mile-long trail for about three hours now, and I'm still not quite at the top! It didn't take me as long to get up this trail on my two previous trips here (with a slightly lighter bike). - Time to filter some drinking water from Mississippi Lake.
Wow, I'm awake and alive after yesterday's arduous trip up Willow Ridge Trail! I slept incredibly well last night, even though I had to get up several times to urinate. At least that tells me that I wasn't dehydrated. It's so convenient to have a water source just 100 feet from the tent. I still have some good-tasting water left from Willow Ridge Spring last night, but I want to save it for drinking, and use the muddier-tasting water from the lake here for cooking purposes. - Making late-morning coffee at the picnic table at Mississippi Lake.
It's not as bad as I was expecting, but my body is giving off weird signals and muscle spasms after yesterday's hot and heavy hike-a-bike trip up Willow Ridge Trail. I'm feeling very tired this morning, almost hungover (despite having consumed no alcohol), but my overworked muscles are "just" feeling overworked, rather than pain-ridden. My camping filterless drip-coffee maker is really slow. After using it to make coffee during my Death Valley bicycle trip a few months ago, I've switched to a slightly coarser grind of coffee for this trip, but it hasn't improved performance much, if at all. The hot sun started baking my tent and its contents (me) a bit after 8h this morning, but after a while, the sun rose enough above the ramada here that I was able to relax again inside, rather than just suffocate. - View of my Mississippi Lake campsite.
My third time camped out here. The big old oak tree doesn't provide much shade early in the day, but later, it's very nice to have as a neighbour when the sun is frying everything else around. I'm starving after yesterday's exertion, so I eat a lot for breakfast: one Mountain House Beef Stew backpacker's meal (my favourite, and it "serves two") and one Zen Bakery cinnamon roll. A few pieces of dried carrot and potato escape the meal pouch and fall to the ground, almost instantly attracting the attention of a yellowjacket passing by. Mr. or Ms. Yellowjacket really seems to like the sauce powder clinging to the bits of dried vegetables and hangs around for a while. As someone who is very allergic to yellowjacket venom, I keep a close eye on this. As soon as the cost is clear, I clean up the five or six vegetable pieces. - Heading up the road away from Mississippi Lake (this is actually still part of Willow Ridge Road)
I consider going for a hike up the nearby Bear Mountain Peak Trail, but it has turned into a really hot day and today is my lazy day. After deciding that the water from Mississippi Lake tastes too dirty to keep drinking, I opt for the two-mile (four-miles round-trip), mostly flat walk to Bear Spring to load up on better water. I leave the bicycle at home. I visited Bear Spring at this time last year and remember that its water was pretty good. - Starting up Bear Spring Road.
Judging by the tire tracks, vehicles drive up here once in a while, but not often. - Catching some shade on Bear Spring Road (much of the road is exposed to the sun and not shady at all).
I know that feeling of very hot sun and it's definitely in the mid-90s today. There are a few shady spots on this road and I'll enjoy each of them. So far, each day on this trip has been a couple of degrees warmer than the previous one. This feels odd after the rather cool summer we've had in San José this year. I wonder if this heat is just happening here in the uplands, or if San José is getting it too. It's generally a bit hotter up here anyway, which keeps park visitors at a minimum during the hot season (which is OK with me!) The hat that I'm wearing is an old Tilley hat that my stepdad gave me many years back. - A dry creek crossing on Bear Spring Road.
Due to the heat and the fatigue that I'm carrying from yesterday, I'm walking slowly. In this beautiful terrain, slow is good, there's plenty of texture to look at. The usual gold, green and blue, plus a couple of deer tiptoeing across the landscape. - Bear Spring Road, getting closer to Bear Spring
Near Bear Spring, the road narrows and becomes a trail that goes up the side of Bear Mountain, ahead. - Arriving at Bear Spring.
A nervous family of quail gurgles and scatters when it notices me approaching. On a hot day like today, the shade here makes for a great rest stop and makes pumping water a little easier. Without a map, you'd probably think that the trail ends here, but it actually continues up the hill behind the spring. Just go through the poison oak and cross the creek! - Close-up of Bear Spring.
A healthy trickle of fresh spring water is entering the spring tub. The water is quite clean and tastes great. And it stays fairly cool here in the shade. This is the first cool water I've had today, so I feel like drinking a gallon of it on the spot. My water from Willow Ridge Spring was good this morning; it had cooled down to below luke-warm overnight. I pump enough water to fill my 10-litre water bag (22 pounds) and my two-litre Camelbak. Of course, the water will have warmed up by the time I get back to Mississippi Lake. - Wild California fuschias around a rocky outcrop opposite Bear Spring.
This is one of few California wildflowers that blooms during the hot late-summer months. I really like these and have planted quite a few of these on my property at home. These plants spread by the roots. If you want to have hummingbirds in your yard, plant a big patch of these. - Stachys albens (hedgenettle) in the creek, now dormant and waiting for the fall rains.
It has been a dry year. This time last year, these plants, just downstream from Bear Spring, were fairly dry, but still green. - Old fence along Bear Spring Road.
If I did my research, I'd expect to find that this is part of an old corral, or the boundary of a former ranch. Here the road rises above the creek bed for a bit. - Old concrete cistern along Bear Spring Road.
Also at the site of the fence is an old concrete cistern, which presumably once held water from nearby Bear Spring (or a second spring). - Bear Spring Road drops back down to the level of the dry creek after a short rise.
I've never been here during the wet months to see how much water can flow down this creek bed. - A small California buckeye tree along Bear Spring Road (aesculus californica).
There's a bit of shade here, so it's a good place to take a short break from the hot sun and put down the 22-pound bag of water for a few minutes. During the hot, dry summer, this tree goes dormant and dries up, waiting for fall rains. Its structure is revealed once all the dry leaves fall off. Many golf-ball sized seed pods hang off the leafless tree during the late fall. California buckeye is one of those local trees that many people don't like because it loses its leaves, despite its other interesting features. The tree photographed here is dense and squat, but many buckeyes in Henry Coe State Park have grown to be quite huge. - Back near my campsite, Bear Mountain Peak Trail veers upward from Willow Ridge Road
This trailhead begins just north of the outhouse at the north end of Mississippi Lake. I considered exploring this trail today, but, in the haze of my fatigue, and the 90-degree weather to which I'm still acclimating, I decided that I'd feel fulfilled just walking to Bear Spring to get some better water. Maybe next year? The trail marker indicates that we are 12.1 miles from Coe Headquarters. - Time for a pipe and coffee back at the campsite to end the slow and relaxing day.
It's very peaceful here with most of the sounds being ducks in the lake or an occasional breeze passing through the leaves. I hear some noises and wonder if maybe there are other people out here besides me. But no, it's just a pair of deer walking up the hill on the other side of the lake. The sound of a jet crossing the Park in the distance every now and then is a reminder that I'm not very far from civilization after all, despite how it feels to be here. - And more coffee.
In this weather, iced tea would probably be preferable to hot coffee, but I'm really enjoying the coffee nonetheless. I guess that means that I am starting to get acclimated to the heat again. Drinking warm water during much of the day and walking a few miles in the hot midday heat have provided me with some practice. - Mississippi Lake campsite area just before sunset with Willow Ridge Road passing through.
In most situations, I avoid camping so close to a road whenever possible, but there's no sign of anyone around besides me. The last people that I saw were in those two pick-up trucks that passed me on Poverty Flat Road yesterday afternoon. The sun will go down soon, the gnats will go away, and then I'll make another instant backpacking meal-in-a-pouch. Tonight's is Backpacker's Pantry "José's Chicken Mole." The sauce is a bit heavy-handed flavour-wise, and perhaps a bit salty, but it's tasty enough that I'd buy it again. After supper, the full moon is up again, casting shadows, another gorgeous night. The heat of the day has lingered on into the evening, and at 21h30, I'm sitting at the picnic table with no shirt on, writing in my journal by flashlight lantern. - Close up of the plant life in Mississippi Lake.
Mississippi Lake water doesn't taste too terrible in the early morning when it's still somewhat cool. But as the day heats up, and the water temperature with it, the green-and-muddy taste and smell get amplified and becomes annoying after a while. I walk back to the campsite to get out of the sun and to prepare coffee and breakfast: two bowls of instant miso soup with seaweed, my last two Zen Bakery cinnamon rolls, a Granny Smith apple, plus a handful each of dried apricots and tamari-roasted almonds. A nice addition at Mississippi Lake this year is a garbage can. Most of Coe Park has no garbage collection, so you must pack out all your garbage, which isn't much fun to carry around. - I walk down to Mississippi Lake to see what the birds are doing.
Looking forward to today's ride to Jackrabbit Lake, I'm up early (9h is early for me). The sun heating up my tent has made it impossible to stay inside. It didn't cool down that much overnight and it's already a hot morning. All this plant material in Mississippi Lake is presumably why the lake water tastes green and muddy. - Ready, the 10-ton bike waits for its chauffeur to drive it to Jackrabbit Lake, on the other side of the Orestimba Wilderness.
Packed up and leaving my campsite by 12h15 is pretty good by my standards. Since much of the trip is downhill or level, I should have plenty of time to cover the 12 miles from here to there, even if I run into a few surprises along the way. I was hoping to get out toward the Orestimba Wilderness as part of last summer's bike trip in Coe Park, but getting to Mississippi Lake took all my energy!