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- Rising up the end of Willow Ridge Road away from Mississippi Lake, to meet County Line Road on the ridge.
Wow, I've worked up a sweat already and I'm barely half a mile away from the campsite. Those greenish-reddish chamise bushes that are everywhere around here don't provide much shade, but sometimes one can sit on the ground and snuggle up to a patch of it to get out of the hot sun if need be. - Great views across the Orestimba Creek valley from County Line Road at the junction of Hartman Trail
Jackrabbit Lake, today's destination, is down in the valley below, roughly at the bottom left side of the photo. However, the Orestimba Wilderness, which is not open to bikes (or other mechanized transport), lies between here and there, so the bicycle route follows a V-shaped route that skirts the Wilderness boundary. I continue my ride down County Line Road, heading off to the right in the photo. - Ready to pump some water at Board Spring.
The water at Board Spring is pretty good. The spring is still flowing a bit, and the basin doesn't have much algae in it. There are a few yellowjackets buzzing around the trickle of water entering the basin, so I pump my water from the other side. I fill up all my water containers: 10-litre water bag, two-litre Camelbak, 1.5 litre bottle, and a one-litre bottle. Suddenly the 10-ton bike and I are much heavier. Standing here pumping water makes me realize that it's even hotter today than yesterday, or maybe it just feels that way because this location is so exposed to the sun. I decide to cool down a little in the shade of a nearby oak before continuing my ride down County Line Road. - The trail to Board Spring starts out road-like, but it's rather grown-in as it approaches its end at the spring.
The Board Spring water tub is just barely visible in the centre of the photo at the end of the trail. Most of this trail is quite exposed to the hot sun, but there are a few oak trees along here that one can stand behind to get some shade. - A little further down County Line Road, I reach the short dead-end trail to Board Spring (to the right).
The 0.3-mile-long trail to Board Spring edges its way down the steep hillside and provides more great views over the valley below. I will refill my water supply at Board Spring and then return here to continue the ride down County Line Road. - Back on County Line Road, still riding along the ridge, but descending slowly.
This part of County Line Road leaves chamise chaparral and passes through some pine and oak forest. - Still up on the ridge, County Line Road keeps providing great views of the valley.
My cell phone even works along here, so I check messages and change my outgoing message to indicate where I am. I get back on the 10-ton bike and continue the slow downhill. - County Line Road turns east and starts snaking down the steep hillside to Orestimba Creek.
With numerous switchbacks along the way, this one-mile segment of County Line Road drops down 500 feet in a mile, from about 1950 feet to 1450 feet. Hold on tightly! I'll be riding back up this road in a few days and hope that it won't be one of those impossibly difficult hills. - That was fun; I'm down in the valley now at Orestimba Creek and it only took 15 minutes to get down the hill.
At the bottom of County Line Road is the junction with Kaiser-Aetna Road and Orestimba Creek Road (I follow the latter). The trip down the hill was beautifully shaded (light dappled shade) much of the way and happened so quickly that I didn't get any good photos on the way down. It's 14h45 and I've got about 7 miles to go to reach Jackrabbit Lake, much of it flat. I can see from the sign here that I've come 4.2 miles so far since leaving Mississippi Lake. - Milkweed growing along Orestimba Creek Road (asclepias fascicularis?).
It's not a spectacular plant, but it's obviously a tough one with its little flower show at the hottest and driest part of the year. Something I should consider for my dry garden. - 3/4 mile down the road, I stop at the old Orestimba Corral for a Clif-bar-and-water break at the semi-shady picnic tables.
I'm surprised how sweaty I am because I haven't done any uphill riding for a while now. The temperature has definitely risen, or perhaps it's typically hotter down in this valley than up above. - I continue riding down Orestimba Creek Road.
Beautiful scenery here. A lot of these oak trees seem smaller than those in other areas of the Park. I wonder if that's because the trees simply don't grow that as big in this location, or if they are just younger. Even though Orestimba Creek Road generally follows the creek, segments of it take detours up (and then down) adjacent hills to avoid the creek bed. So my mostly flat ride down here actually has some little hills after all. There is also a parallel trail here that more closely follows the alignment of the creek bed, but it looks narrow. So I stay on the road for fear that the trail might be an excellent route for hikers, but difficult to traverse on a 10-ton bike. - One of several dry creek crossings on Orestimba Creek Road.
I've seen photos from travelogues of winter trips in this area where parts of the road are submerged underwater. When the road is in the creek bed, its surface ranges from gravelly to rocky, or a combination of both. It makes for slow riding that requires that much of the rider's attention be focused on the road surface, not the scenery. Though slow, it's not particularly difficult riding, and I enjoy the concentration that this kind of riding can induce. It reminds me of some desert roads that I've ridden on past trips, such as Gold Valley Road in Death Valley. - I stop on Orestimba Creek Road to check my map, thinking that I may have passed the road to Jackrabbit Lake.
I get out my map and leave the 10-ton bike in the middle of the road while I backtrack to inspect my surroundings. Indeed... I missed Long Ridge Road (the road to Jackrabbit Lake) when I passed it. It's about 1/3 mile behind me. Getting off the bike made me realize how hot it has become. The metal bike frame is hot. The semi-soft seat is hot. My brake levers have been hot for some time, but I've been so focused on riding that I was ignoring it. Likewise, my drinking water has been heating up gradually, and it's hot too; it's much warmer than luke-warm now. I touch myself and get strange feedback. My shorts are giving off heat and the shiny metal studs on my belt are quite hot to the touch. Hmmm... Shades of my Death Valley bicycle trip this past spring. - Before I remount the 10-ton bike and turn back, I snap a shot of us with the Rooster Comb in the background.
The Rooster Comb is that ridge of rock in the centre-right that crowns the steep grassy hill. I recognize it from photos that I've looked at and I know that I'm not supposed to be approaching it until tomorrow when I return to this area on a day trip. I can feel heat radiating off the gravel of the stream bed (or is it a road) and I've figured out that it's over 100 degrees F here because everything is hot, not just me. I'm overheating and need to sit down in some shade and take a break very soon. - After backtracking 1/3 mile, I locate the Long Ridge Road that I missed, my route to Jackrabbit Lake
When I passed here a while ago, I was focused on riding, and didn't think of watching for signs on the other side of the creek bed. I also missed signs on the way to my present location for Kingbird Pond, Mustang Pond and Red Creek Road. I must be having a good time! Oh great—Long Ridge Road rises up a hill right away. Where can I stop and take a break before going any further? Hey, that oak tree behind the sign is casting a stripe of shade across the road... - I hide in the shade of that oak at the bottom of Long Ridge Road, looking down at the gravel of Orestimba Creek Road.
I eat another energy bar and hide for 20-30 minutes in the shade to make sure that heat exhaustion doesn't set in. Fortunately, I'm reasonably well hydrated. I wish my water weren't so hot; I could really use something cool right now. I've done a bit of bicycle camping in 100+ degree temperatures in Death Valley, and enjoy the challenge. However, I was expecting today to be rather easy and wasn't mentally prepared for this! Just under two miles remains until I reach Jackrabbit Lake. Not far, but there will be a couple of hills along the way. I'll be taking this last short distance slowly to keep it enjoyable and to stay healthy. - A two-prong grey pine on Orestimba Creek Road.
While recuperating under the oak tree at the bottom of Long Ridge Road, my eyes keep getting drawn to this unusual grey pine down the creek. - Stunted oak tree on lower Long Ridge Road.
toward Jackrabbit Lake. I walk the steeper segments. This little plateau just above Orestimba Creek has several old oak trees like this one. It looks like the trees may have grown back from past fire damage. - More oaks on lower Long Ridge Road.
A little further up lower Long Ridge Road, the grove of old oaks thickens, but are still not as meaty as those seen in many other areas of the Park. - Rolling terrain on Long Ridge Road between Orestimba Creek and Jackrabbit Lake.
The road just came over that knoll in the background and crossed the creek at the bottom of it. I'm almost at the point where I turn off Long Ridge Road onto the Jackrabbit Lake Road. Clark Spring should be somewhere around here. - I set up camp just beyond Jackrabbit Lake.
The short road to Jackrabbit Lake goes past the lake and fizzles out in a flat oak-studded area. Looks like a good place to camp that will hopefully have a bit of morning shade. As I unpack my saddlebags, I can't believe how hot my belongings are. Opening the saddlebags is like opening a dryer and pulling out hot laundry. My metal tent poles are really hot! It's 18h, so I still have a little time left before sunset. I decide to go for a walk to find Clark Spring, which I missed on the way in, and refill my water supply. - Walking down to Clark Spring, I pass pristine Jackrabbit Lake and take a closer look.
Idyllic surroundings and there's nobody around. I haven't seen anyone since two days ago. There's not as much plant material in the water here as at Mississippi Lake. So perhaps the water here will taste good. I'll try the water from Clark Spring first. - Clark Spring does not appear to be stagnant after all.
The Clark Spring basin is completely covered with miniscule greenish flower parts which produce the eerie key-lime-pie appearance from a distance. I get out my water filter and plunge it in to test the water. Fortunately, the yellowjackets don't seem to notice me here since I'm not interfering with their little trickle of water on the other end of the spring basin. - Clark Spring looks like a slice of key-lime pie. Is it stagnant?
With the help of my map, I locate Clark Spring in a gulley along the dry creek not far from the junction of Long Ridge Road and Jackrabbit Lake Road. This spring is really, really green; is it stagnant? Maybe I'd be better off getting some water from Jackrabbit Lake instead. A number of yellowjackets buzz around to the left of the spring basin where a trickle of water is seeping out from underneath. For a moment I consider trying to filter water from that little underflow, which looks cleaner than the spring. - Gunk on my water filter intake tube from Clark Spring.
The flower bits wipe off easily from the filter's tube. Despite the mess, this water tastes pretty good. For one thing, it's a bit cooler than the air, so it feels really good when I drink it. Pumping was getting rather slow and tight, so I only partially filled my water bag. I guess the inside of the filter needs another brushing to clean it up. I'll try some Jackrabbit Lake water tomorrow once my filter has been cleaned. I walk back to the tent with my water bag slung over my shoulder. - Back at the hot tent, the sun begins to set on my little plateau above Jackrabbit Lake.
I take refuge in the tent from the annoying gnats that buzz around just before sunset. But it's hot inside and everything in my tent is giving off heat. I'm guessing that it won't cool down much tonight. After dark, the gnats subside and I step outside to boil water for tonight's meal, Mountain House Teriyaki Beef. Excellent. Interwined shadows from the slender oaks fall across the ground under the moonlight. I hear a few critters, probably small ones, but don't know what they are. With almost no breeze in the air, it's incredibly quiet. Except when a jet flies overhead... This location seems to be under a flight path and it's right about here that jets make a special grinding sound as they begin to decelerate on their approach to some local airport. If it weren't so quiet here, I might not notice. Wow, midnight approaches, and it's still hot in the tent. - Late-morning breakfast of miso soup and coffee at Jackrabbit Lake.
It stayed warm overnight and the temperature is rising quickly. There is just enough dappled shade that I've been able to sleep in a bit and stay inside to avoid the morning gnats buzzing around. A few clouds earlier helped attenuate the first rays of the day. OK, the tent is hot enough inside that I've been sweating most of the morning, but at least it wasn't so much that I felt like I was suffocating. Breakfast is instant miso soup with seaweed, then coffee, then a few handfuls of granola, then some dried apricots and tamari almonds. For dessert I have a thin semi-sweet dark chocolate bar that I've been keeping flat in the back of my notebook in the hard-backed pocket in one of my saddlebags. Each time I've wanted to eat this chocolate bar so far, it had liquified from the heat, with just the wrapping holding it together. In the hope that it's at least semi-solid from the cooler overnight hours, I get it out, but it's too late; it's liquid again. I give up this time and just eat the liquid chocolate bar with a spoon. Yummy! - The south tip of Jackrabbit Lake shows that the lake is not at its fullest.
I tried pumping some water a while ago, but my pump still seemed clogged, so I went back to my campsite to try clean it up some more. Maybe some of those flower parts from Clark Spring somehow got into the pump. So I've just come back down to Jackrabbit Lake to try pumping water again. I'm taking a walk around this end of the lake to choose a spot to sit down and pump. - Jackrabbit Lake, looking north.
There's a bit less green stuff floating in the lake a little further along. The shore of the lake is moist clay, so it's not immediately apparent where is a good spot to sit down and pump. - Walking past Jackrabbit Lake, looking southeast, as I begin a short day hike to Paradise Lake and back.
The water pump was very tight and squeaky because the replaceable filter is almost worn out, which I hadn't noticed before. So it took quite a while to fill my water bag and Camelbak with water pumped from Jackrabbit Lake. After returning to my campsite to drop off the 10-litre, 22-pound water bag, I'm finally heading out on today's little hike to Paradise Lake, about six miles round-trip. I'm just bringing my full two-litre Camelbak, my water filter (so I can refill at Paradise Lake) and a couple of energy bars. Fortunately, today is not quite as hot as yesterday, but it's still in the high 90s, which discourages longer hikes. I originally planned to do a much longer day hike today through the Orestimba Wilderness, well beyond Paradise Lake. - I climb up that crazy short and steep slope on the road on the way out of Jackrabbit Lake.
I keep looking at this hill thinking that it's probably too steep for me to be able to drag the bike up it. Fortunately, it's not very long. - On a knoll on lower Long Ridge Road, on the way back to Orestimba Creek Road.
I'm drinking lots of water in order to keep my sweaty neck glistening. The road climbing the hill in the background is a really steep part of Long Ridge Road beyond Jackrabbit Lake that I won't be travelling with the 10-ton bike during this trip. - View from Long Ridge Road across the valley toward Mississippi Ridge.
I begin the short descent down to Orestimba Creek (Road). My Mississippi Lake campsite two nights ago is more less straight ahead up in the mountains in the distance. - In the hot gravel of Orestimba Creek Road again.
I have a 0.3 mile walk in the dry creek to reach Red Creek Road. It's not quite as hot here as it was yesterday, but it's close; I can feel that heat radiating from the gravel again! - This might be some kind of buckwheat growing on the bank of the Orestimba Creek at Red Creek Road?
There's shade here right now, so I stop here for a couple of minutes and take advantage of it before heading up Red Creek Road. - Red Creek Road crosses Paradise Flat.
Flat land in Henry Coe State Park? - Wild pigs on Paradise Flat along Red Creek Road.
Surprisingly, these are the first wild pigs I've seen on this trip. There are a lot of these in the Park, so there is a chance of seeing them often, not just once or twice. - Another shot of the wild pigs on Paradise Flat along Red Creek Road.
The family of pigs has crossed the road to see what's under the other oak tree. - The wild pigs run away once they hear me coming up the road.
I didn't count the size of this family, but it seems like there are more than a dozen of them, perhaps 18, big and small. - Manzanita tree along Red Creek Road.
Living sculpture. - The dead-end road to Paradise Lake veers off to the right (north) from Red Creek Road.
Paradise Lake is 1/3 mile away, at the end of the road. - Paradise Lake sits in a private little valley at the bottom of a steep drop at the end of the road.
This sure is a quaint little spot. The steep hills here create a sense of enclosure and isolation from the outside. - Paradise Lake is small compared to Jackrabbit Lake.
I finished the two litres of water in my Camelbak a while back on Red Creek Road. It's amazing how much one drinks in the heat. I get out my water filter and pump some water here, hoping that it tastes good. The pump is even tighter than it was earlier and isn't providing much water. My patience runs out when my two-litre Camelbak is about three-quarters full and I give up pumping. True, I'll run out of water before I get back to camp, but I'll be close to home and there's plenty of water there. I spend a few minutes walking around the area, and take note of a couple of spots that obviously serve as campsites. Content with my discovery, I turn around and begin the three-mile walk back to Jackrabbit Lake. - Grey pine (pinus sabiniana) along Red Creek Road on Paradise Flat.
On the way back across Paradise Flat, I pay more attention to its non-meadow areas, which include head-high chapparal shrubbery and some taller trees, such as this grey pine. - Ceanothus along Red Creek Road on Paradise Flat.
This stretch of the road is probably really attractive and fragrant in the spring when the chamise and ceanothus are flowering. However, I enjoy these plants at this dry time of year also. - An old State Park boundary sign across the Paradise Flat meadow.
While walking down Red Creek Road, near where the wild pigs were, I notice what looks like an old sign across the meadow. There's not much around, so I'm curious what it would be. I walk across the meadow, collecting lots of tarweed burrs on my socks and legs. It turns out to be an old State Park boundary sign, presumably from earlier days when Paradise Flat wasn't yet a part of the Park. - A view of the Rooster Comb from Paradise Flat.
I had hoped to hike up to the top of the Rooster Comb (that rocky ridge behind me to the right) while I'm here in the Orestimba Wilderness, but that will have to wait until my next trip. - Returning to Jackrabbit Lake, I see that steep grade again further up Long Ridge Road that I was looking at this morning.
That road really is steep, and I congratulate myself again for not including it in my travel plans. It would probably be fun to ride down in a toboggan, if the hill were heavily snow-covered. - Chamise chapparal on one of the knolls that lower Long Ridge Road bounces over.
Looking west. In the background is Mustang Peak, which was on my "maybe" list of places to visit on this trip. Long Ridge Road eventually goes by Mustang Peak after climbing the mountain and following the ridge top. I'm out of drinking water now, but camp is only 3/4 mile away. Lo and behold, I pass a jackrabbit along here. - Heading down that crazy short, steep hill on the road to Jackrabbit Lake again.
This means that I'm almost home. The sun is starting to set and it already feels a degree or two cooler. - Arriving home at my Jackrabbit Lake campsite just a little before dark.
Perfect timing. I think I'll walk down to Jackrabbit Lake to see how it looks at sunset. - Jackrabbit Lake at sunset.
A peaceful place to sit and watch the sunset, listen to the birds, and enjoy the solitude. I haven't seen anybody in three days. While watching the sun go down, I pump a bit more water from Jackrabbit Lake to get a head start on tomorrow's needs while sitting by the lake. I start pumping water into a clear plastic bottle, and notice that the water is grey. Oops, my water filter isn't just clogged; it simply isn't working. I return to the tent, concerned. - Delicious, life-giving, grey water.
I pour some water out of my black water bag into a pot; it too is grey. Hmmm... I've been drinking untreated water all day and didn't find it objectionable at all. Now I just have to hope that the gallon or two of untreated water that I've drank won't make me ill! I can't just spontaneously end my trip because I'm about 20 bike miles and a couple of ridges away from Park Headquarters. I don't have enough propane to boil all my drinking water, but I am carrying iodine tablets for emergency water purification. I may end up using them. Tonight's supper is beef jerky with Trader Joe's boil-in-bag lentil biriyani (great stuff). The pouch is so warm from being in my tent that I question whether I need to heat it up further. But I conclude that it will probably taste better hot than luke-warm, so I do boil it for five minutes. This leaves me with a pot of hot boiled water that I can safely drink. It's a beautiful warm evening and my boiled water remains hot. Tasty! Around 23h, I step outside to walk around the campsite under the moonlight with no shirt on. It's still hot inside the tent and drinking one final cup of hot water before going to bed is making me sweat. But I'm tired and still very happy to be here, so I know I'll sleep well, sweating or not. - Jackrabbit Lake campsite, morning. Time to get out the iodine tablets.
The original plan was to stay here one more night, but due to my water problem, I'm heading on to Pacheco Camp today since it's on the way back to Park Headquarters. I'm rarely awake so early, but I don't want to leave too late in case I take forever getting up the hill on County Line Road. It's nice to be up before the sun starts cooking everything. A few clouds keep the early sun cool and, incredibly, it rains ever so lightly for about one minute, not even enough for anything to get wet. For breakfast, I start by drinking the small pot of water that I boiled late last night and which cooled down overnight. There's a bit of grey clay sediment at the bottom of the pot; positively delicious! Then I boil water (for coffee and miso soup, two cups of each), and eat granola, dried apricots and tamari almonds. Reality sets in after breakfast when I have no untreated water left of any kind. I fill my water bag and Camelbak with lake water and add iodine tablets. I wait half an hour as per the instructions. I take a mouthful, then gag and feel like I might vomit or have a panic attack, but luckily I don't. This stuff tastes like poison. Is it really better than drinking untreated water? By the time I'm all packed up and ready to leave camp, I'm used to the terrible taste. Sort of. - The Orestimba Creek Trail veers off the Orestimba Creek Road to the right. I'll stay on the road.
I left Jackrabbit Lake around 11h. To get up that short, steep crazy hill near Jackrabbit Lake, I had to take the 22-pound water bag off the bike and bring it up the hill separately. Now I'm enjoying backtracking on sometimes-rocky Orestimba Creek Road on the same route I took to get to Jackrabbit Lake. It is very warm today again. The gravel in the creek bed hasn't heated up much yet, which makes for a more pleasant ride than two afternoons ago in the late-afternoon sun and 100-degree air. Orestimba Creek Trail veers off to the right and looks enticing, but I stay on the road because it will probably be more ridable, and thus quicker. - I walk a few hundred feet up the Kingbird Pond Trail.
This could be a future camping destination. I walk past the first bend in the trail to see if the lake is visible, but it isn't. The trail to Kingbird Pond is only half a mile long, but I don't feel like interrupting my bike ride with a one-mile-long walk right now, so I turn back to the road and remount the 10-ton bike. - Aha, here's the trail to Kingbird Pond.
I didn't see this trail when I passed by on the way to Jackrabbit Lake even though I intended to take a look at it. The fact that I'm this far down Orestimba Creek Road means that I missed the Mustang Pond Trail on the way (again), which I was also going to look at. - A bit further up Orestimba Creek Road, I notice Will's Pond.
Will's Pond is really drying up! This pond is a few hundred feet from the road and I didn't notice it on the way to Jackrabbit Lake. - Taking a breather at the Orestimba Corral to assess our condition after crashing on the way down the hill from Will's Pond.
I'm a little shaken up right now, but trying not to be. A few minutes ago, on the way down the (not very steep) hill from Will's Pond, I was thrown off the 10-ton bike when it fishtailed upon hitting some powdered clay, and I couldn't regain control. The oak trees heard me land chest-first on the road with a thud. I immediately jumped up, just to prove to myself that I could, that I wasn't hurt. Somehow, the front wheel of the bike ended up turning 180 degrees and just needed to be turned back. Amazingly, neither of us seems to be seriously injured. The layer of clay dust on the road seems to have prevented me from getting road rash. One leg feels quite bruised and I'm hoping that those sore ribs are just bruised too. The 10-ton bike also seems to have survived despite the force of the fall. The only damage that I've noted so far is that the overloaded rear rack bent just a little. Kudos to Old Man Mountain for making tough racks, and to Trek for making a tough bike. I try to make this a normal break by taking a few photos, eating a Clif bar, and sucking back more of my disgusting iodine-infused water, which is quite warm now. I'm very lucky. I haven't seen anyone in four days. - Heading up the County Line Road grade toward Mississippi Ridge, stopping by a trap for wild pigs.
After my break at Orestimba Corral, I decide that I might as well start the climb up County Line Road; about 500 feet elevation gain in a mile, from 1450 feet to 1950 feet. I'm a bit sore, but I think I'm mostly OK (still not sure about my ribs). There are quite a few of these pig traps in the park, but I've never seen one yet with a pig in it. There's a fair amount of dappled shade on this road, which makes the hot sun more manageable. The real surprise is that I'm actually riding up a lot of this road ad building up some momentum here and there, rather than dragging the bike as expected. This gets me wondering if I could have ridden this road uphill on day one of the trip. A person gains strength day-by-day on demanding trips like these. Additionally, I've consumed some of my supplies, so the load I'm carrying is a little bit lighter.After my break at Orestimba Corral, I decide that I might as well start the climb up County Line Road; about 500 feet elevation gain in a mile, from 1450 feet to 1950 feet. I'm a bit sore, but I think I'm mostly OK (still not sure about my ribs). There are quite a few of these pig traps in the park, but I've never seen one yet with a pig in it. There's a fair amount of dappled shade on this road, which makes the hot sun more manageable. The real surprise is that I'm actually riding up a lot of this road ad building up some momentum here and there, rather than dragging the bike as expected. This gets me wondering if I could have ridden this road uphill on day one of the trip. A person gains strength day-by-day on demanding trips like these. Additionally, I've consumed some of my supplies, so the load I'm carrying is a little bit lighter. - At the top of the County Line Road grade, it's time to begin the short descent down Coit Road into the Mississippi Creek canyon.
Wow, it only took me a little over an hour to make it up the County Line Road grade to 1950 feet here! I have one more ridge to climb over today (Pacheco Ridge), with a small canyon between here and there: Mississippi Creek canyon. That means I drop down to about 1600 feet, then rise back up to about 1950 feet, all in 1.8 miles. I haven't been down into this area of the Park before, so hopefully the road out of the canyon won't be too steep for the 10-ton bike. It looks reasonable on the map, but I've made map-reading mistakes many times. It would be nice to take a break now, but there's no shade in the chamise chapparal here and the downhill ahead of me will be fun! - After climbing out of Mississippi Creek canyon to Pacheco Ridge, I look down into the canyon that will be home tonight.
Great, it only took me an hour to go down into the canyon and come up the other side. I was able to ride the 10-ton bike almost all the way up the hill, with practically no bike dragging. The hot weather isn't bothering me at all. I stop for a few minutes at the top of Pacheco Ridge to enjoy the views and look down at the road in the canyon below, where I'll soon be. - At the bottom of the canyon, I arrive at Pacheco Camp, at 1689 feet elevation.
A really nice spot. A quaint old cabin that Park volunteers have been keeping up (not open to campers), decorated by a number of huge old oak trees. For some reason, I wasn't expecting such a picturesque place. There are several picnic tables and a horse camp here. This location is used sometimes as a home base for volunteer projects. Ahhh, shade!!! - There's even a "shower building" at Pacheco Camp.
No hot water here of course, but there is water to this building piped in from a spring. The outdoor sink is a nice touch. The garden hose can be pulled into the shelter and used as a shower, or brought out to the sink as a "kitchen tap." - Will I get clean at Pacheco Camp?
I'm really dirty from my crash on Orestimba Creek Road a couple of hours ago, so that shower building sure looks enticing. Actually, the real reason that I want a shower is because I haven't had one six days. Given the 90+ degree temperatures this week, a significant residue of grime, sweat, salt and sunscreen wants to be washed off! But first, I should unpack the bike and set up the tent (or maybe that's not important right now). - I walk up to the shower building to check it out.
Is it a mirage? Will I really get to be clean again? Oh, there's a clock-style thermometer mounted on the wall to the left of the door. - Sheesh, I was getting excited about standing under a steady stream of water, but the water is so cold!
I'm in disbelief that on such a hot day with the sun shining on me through the screens on the shower building, the water is still too cold! OK, so I just hose myself down little-by-little and it's still wonderful. I feel like I'm shedding a layer of skin. It's fun watching brownish water roll down my legs. - The seat in the shower.
Hmmm, there's a car seat in the shower. It has a lot of spider webs on it. I don't need to sit on it, but it serves nicely as a bench on which to rest things. - The shower hose can be suspended from a pully and then raised or lowered.
The system seems to work fairly well, but I'm too lazy to fiddle with it and just get the hose into one position and leave it there. - Pacheco Camp buildings as seen from just above on Coit Road.
After my shower, I soak some of my dirty clothes in the sink and go for a walk around the camp. View from the outhouse, just a bit up the hill from the other Pacheco Camp buildings. My tent is invisible in the photo, but it's under that big oak tree to the left. - Time to throw out the iodine-tainted Jackrabbit Lake water that I've been drinking all day.
... and perhaps throw caution to the wind as well. Hurray! The spring water here at Pacheco Camp tastes great, better than San José tap water, and it's cold. Of course, I have no way to know if it's truly safe to drink without filtering. I'm so sick of the iodine odour on my breath that I've gotten used to from drinking more a gallon of that water today. It still tastes like poison to me. I convince myself that if I'm going to get sick from untreated water, it will be from the grey water that I drank yesterday at Paradise Lake and Jackrabbit Lake. The Jackrabbit Lake water was greyish to begin with, but the addition of iodine makes it look like toilet water. Eau de toilette, anyone? - The sign on Coit Road near the Pacheco Camp cabin says that it's 16 miles to Park Headquarters.
I'm feeling more comfortable about my water situation now, even though I might be fooling myself. I really like it here, so I think I'll stay tomorrow night as well, instead of fleeing toward Park Headquarters due to lack of water. - Pacheco Horse Camp.
Not far behind my tent is the Pacheco Horse Camp. There's a spring tub there, but the water in it looks stagnant; it's best left for the deer. The road that goes behind the horse camp is Pacheco Creek Trail. I'll study my map tonight and possibly go for a hike or bike ride up that way tomorrow. - 92 degrees in the shade, according to the thermometer on the side of the shower house.
No wonder it feels so hot today. It must have been close to 100 degrees when I was up on the ridges earlier today. The thermometer is marked, "Donated by Mike." - The modern, concrete, wheelchair-accessible outhouse just up the hill from the Pacheco Camp buildings.
The fake-wood texturing on the concrete adds character, I suppose. It gets incredibly hot inside from the sun shining on it all day long. The "Pack it in/pack it out" sign might come as a surprise to folks who aren't used to wilderness parks. There simply aren't garbage-collection services everywhere in the world. It's not a lot of fun to carry one's garbage around while backpacking or bikepacking or horsepacking, but it's better than throwing it on the ground and hoping it blows away or dissolves. It also makes you very conscious of how much garbage you make. - The tent hides under one of the huge oak trees at Pacheco Camp.
Before setting up camp in that spot, I took a good look at that tree to see if anything looks loose. I hope not to be killed by a falling branch. This evening I brave the gnats and make my instant supper before the sun has completely disappeared: Mountain House Oriental-style Chicken, followed by some beef jerky. Excellent. I haven't seen another person for four days now. I start wondering if maybe there will be people around here tonight or tomorrow. I remember reading that this location is sometimes used for group activities, which would be most likely to take place on a long weekend like this, I would think. This is Friday night, the beginning of this year's Labour Day long weekend. But the night remains quiet, except for some unidentified critters passing through. Despite the hot day, it cools down considerably in the evening, almost, but not quite, to the point that I would need to put on a sweater. My coolest night so far, and I sleep really well. - An old outbuilding along Pacheco Creek Trail not too far from Pacheco Camp.
I slept in nicely this morning, partly because of the excellent shade from the huge oak tree that I'm camped under, partly because it cooled down so much overnight. Breakfast is two bowls of miso soup with seaweed, two cups of coffee, one bag Mary Jane's Wild Forest Mushroom Couscous (OK, but boring and unsubstantial), a handful of tequila pistachios, and a few tamari almonds. I think I hear something around 11h while eating. I look outside and see a ranger vehicle drive past. Though it didn't stop, this is my first brush with humanity in almost five days. By 13h I'm leaving Pacheco Camp for my day hike up Pacheco Creek Trail in the hot sun. I fill my two-litre Camelbak with spring water and bring along a few extra litres in my half-full 10-litre water bag. - Half a mile up Pacheco Creek Trail, the singletrack Rose Dam Trail veers off and rises eventually to Hoover Lake.
I haven't been up to Hoover Lake yet. It was on the list of possible routes for today's little hike, but it didn't make the short list this time around. There's so much to explore here! - Gnarled oak on Pacheco Creek Trail at a (dry) creek crossing.
This tree looks like it may have had a hard life. - Almost two miles up Pacheco Creek Trail, I see the sign ahead for the trail to Rose Spring.
Perhaps I'll go check out Rose Spring, since the trail is only 0.2 miles long, according to my map. I don't need any water in addition to what I'm carrying, but it will be fun to explore and find out what Rose Spring looks like, and if it has any water in it at this hot and dry time of the year. - The trail to Rose Spring obviously doesn't get a whole lot of use.
Compared to some of the less-travelled trails in Coe Park, this one is fairly well-defined. - Looking for Rose Spring, it should be here somewhere.
The double tire tracks of the trail come to an end, so I follow the faint-in-places trail that continues upstream along the dry creek bed. I see some dried algae in the stream bed from last spring, but I see no sign of moisture here. - The dry creek bed near Rose Spring.
I'm not sure if I walked too far, or not far enough, but I haven't seen Rose Spring. Maybe I'm too busy watching out for poison oak and rattlesnakes and missed it. No big deal; it has been an enjoyable little side trip. I return to Pacheco Creek Trail and continue walking up the canyon. - Further up Pacheco Creek Trail, a grader parked alongside the trail bakes in the hot sun, with nobody inside.
It's Saturday today, so I guess the operator doesn't work on weekends and only got this far yesterday afternoon. It's clear that the trail was freshly graded, but it didn't occur to me that the work might still be in progress. I'm glad now that I chose to hike it here today instead of riding in the soft surface on my bike, which I had considered. A squat California buckeye on the left side of the road waits for winter rains. - A yellow-flowered buckwheat-like plant.
There are so few flowers blooming at this hot time of year that even small flowers like these can be noticeable. - A canteen hangs on the sign indicating Canteen Trail.
2.5 miles up Pacheco Creek Trail from Pacheco Camp is the junction of Canteen Trail and Dog Trail. I take Canteen Trail, which is flat for a short distance, as far as Canteen Spring. After that, it rises steeply for about 1/2 mile up to the top of Pacheco Ridge. - The lower part of Canteen Trail, near the spring.
The oak grassland begins a transition to chamise chapparal, which will be completed as the trail rises up the steep hill. - Canteen Spring is full but not flowing.
Despite significant algae on the surface, the water at Canteen Spring looks clean and clear. - A downed pine tree blocks the first rise on the Canteen Trail.
The rising Canteen Trail can be seen toward the top-left above the fallen tree. - A little higher up Canteen Trail, the basin of the Canteen Spring is still visible in the centre of the photo as a white blotch.
This trail rises fast, and it's hot up here. I take a break alongside a pine tree to get out of the hot sun for a few minutes. - Canteen Trail keeps heading upward.
Once you get part of the way up the hill, there's not much shade to be had. - Looking back down the Canteen Trail to take in the view.
Because the trail is steep and in open terrain, I get the impression of having climbed more than I've really done. That's fine by me. Great views. That should be Willow Ridge on the other side of the canyon, whose ups and downs I rode in the moonlight on the way to Mississippi Lake five nights ago. - Higher up the Canteen Trail toward the top.
Another steep section. I'm enjoying the hot, sweaty climb. I'm taking it fairly slow though, and drinking lots of water, to prevent overheating. - The top of Canteen Trail ends at Pacheco Ridge Road.
From here, I'll have a two-mile walk on top of the world on Pacheco Ridge Road before dropping back down into the canyon to my Pacheco Camp campsite. - One of a series of ups and down on Pacheco Ridge Road. Awesome views up here.
It looks like this could be called "Roller Coaster Ridge," but that name is reserved for Willow Ridge Road across the canyon, which seems to have more, and steeper, rollers. - Heading up one of the rollers on Pacheco Ridge Road.
This could be fun on a bike; I'll make a point of doing a day ride up here some day. - Heading down the other side of the hill on Pacheco Ridge Road that I just came up.
There are a few grey pines up here, but it's mostly chamise chapparal. - Enjoying the views up on Pacheco Ridge Road in the hot sun. My cell phone works here!
Time to check in for messages and to leave a new outgoing message to tell anyone who calls where I am. - Deer near Pacheco Ridge Road.
As I get close to Coit Road, I come across these two deer browsing in the field. - Descending Coit Road back into the canyon to my campsite at Pacheco Camp.
Coit Road descends about 300 feet as it winds its way down the hill over 3/4 mile. It's not as steep as it looks owing to the switchbacks in the road. - A family of deer visit Pacheco Camp to get a drink from the "horse spring."
My tent is only a few hundred feet from the "horse spring," so the deer hesitate before approaching the spring. I try to be still so as not to deter them (I'm sure they need the water in this hot weather). Good thing for them that I'm not a deer hunter. - 95 degrees in the shade at Pacheco Camp at 19h.
I've obviously acclimated to the heat during this trip. If it's 95 down here in the shade now, it must have been over 100 in the midday sun while I was up on the ridge. But it didn't occur to me that it might be another triple-digit day. A bit before sundown, a small pick-up truck drives past and heads up Pacheco Creek Trail. Shortly after, I hear voices and can see two men wearing Camelbaks, but no backpacks, over by the horse camp. They disappear, but a few minutes later the pickup trucks passes by camp again, apparently leaving. The driver sees me in the tent peering out and waves. Supper tonight is Mountain House Beef Stew, good as always with its rubbery carrot, meat and potato pieces. Around 20h30, a vehicle passes through camp and it turns out to be a ranger on patrol. We speak for about 15 minutes, the first time I've spoken to anyone in five days. I notice that my speech is rapid, so I guess this is an exciting event for me. She tells me that it was 102 degrees at Park Headquarters today and gives me a couple of 1/2 litre bottles of water. - My second and last morning at Pacheco Camp.
It was cool again in this little valley last night and I slept really well. During the morning, a lone bicyclist rides by and stops to fill up on water. We chat and he tells me that he's been drinking the Pacheco Camp water unfiltered for years, even though he carries a water filter to purify water from other sources in the Park. That's reassuring, since I've drank a couple gallons of it already. Around noon, a ranger drives through and we also have a long and interesting chat. It feels strange to be social again, and I still feel hyper-talkative after not speaking to anyone for five days. I've run out of time and don't get out of camp until 13h45. So much for that shower I was hoping to take this morning! I've filled my 10-litre water bag (and my two-litre Camelbak) with Pacheco Camp water, which should be enough to get me to China Hole today, and then to Park headquarters tomorrow morning. There's still a bit of water left at China Hole at this time of year, but it would need filtering or boiling, neither of which I'm able to do. - View from the look-off just off Coit Road.
Gorgeous view across Pacheco Ridge and beyond to areas that I haven't visited yet. Makes me want to go change my route and head that way instead. - At the top of the first ridge on Coit Road (around 2400 feet), I note a spur road leading to a look-off that is not on my map.
The ride up Coit Road from Pacheco Camp to the first ridge has passed surprisingly well (about 700 feet elevation gain in 1.5 miles). I pedalled most of it, except for a short stretch where it seemed easier to walk. The little road to the look-off appears to be well-used, so I'll go see why. - A fun short descent down the next hill on Coit Road passes the Fish and Game Pond at the bottom of the canyon.
After the Fish and Game Pond, the road stays in the canyon for a short distance, passes Coit Lake, and then rises a third of a mile to the next ridge. - Coit Road crosses Willow Ridge Road on top of the next ridge at about 2250 feet.
The fairly easy climb from Coit Lake up to Willow Ridge Road here is only a third of a mile long and only gains about 200 feet. I haven't seen this end of Willow Ridge Road before. I won't be seeing any more of it today either because I'm heading down the next hill toward Kelly Lake. - The 3/4 mile drop down into the canyon to Kelly Lake, 450 feet below, was fun.
Now I'm starting the longer climb out the other side toward Mahoney Ridge. Ooo, there's actually some shade on this stretch of road, which means that this is good place to stop for a few minutes. It's not quite as hot as it was yesterday, probably just in the low-to-mid 90s. - I stop on this switchback on the way up Coit Road from Kelly Lake to look back on my route.
Looking back down to Kelly Lake, I can see the ridge in the background (with Willow Ridge Road on top) that I just rode over. - Higher up Coit Road heading toward the junction of Wasno Road.
Looking back toward Kelly Lake. This is a hot location for a break, with almost no shade. But I find the area really scenic, so I stop here and walk around a bit (and consume another energy bar). Gee, this part of the road is almost level, at least compared to all the hills out here. What's not visible in this photo is the steep drop-off all along the right-hand side of the road. I like those whitish dried flowers along the road, whatever they are. Some plants in this area are giving off a maple-like aroma under the hot sun, but I don't know which ones. - Regeneration of a previously burned area (perhaps a prescribed burn).
It looks like a lot of the burned brush may have been chamise, but I see a lot of young coyote bushes popping up. - Dried flowers and burn.
In the foreground are some of those dried white flowers, and just behind them, the dried greenish-brown plants are monkey flowers, beautiful in the spring, dormant in the dry season. Just to the left is a bright-green coyote bush youngster, doing just fine with no practically water in the dry season. The dead tentacles of the burned chamise carcass reach up into the air. - Standing on the road opposite the burned area, with a steep canyon, then Wasno Ridge, behind me.
I'm wearing my sweat band under my hat because I'm still sweating a lot, even though I'm on break and not pedalling. - I walk a short distance up the road to check out a buckeye grove.
This is on the side of the road facing Willow Ridge. - I ride up the road a little and stop again to look at the sculptural shadows of the trees on the next ridge (Wasno Ridge).
The afternoon sun is just right, and the trees there far enough apart, that their individual shadows can be discerned bending over the warped landscape. - Pinus sabiniana (grey pines) along Coit Road heading toward Mahoney Ridge.
This is quite substantial for a stand of grey pines, actually dense enough to provide some shade, which they often don't. I'm past the summit now and starting to go downhill now as I head toward Mahoney Ridge. Woo hoo! - Adjacent to that stand of grey pines, a lone manzanita grows in a field of chamise.
Sometimes manzanitas become big trees, and sometimes they seem to remain as shrubs. I wonder what this loner will grow into. Likewise, I wonder what the four manzanitas that I planted a few years ago on my property in downtown San José will become with age. - Coit Road descends toward the Mahoney Meadows area.
A bit beyond the oak grove ahead, Coit Road turns sharply and drops down into the canyon on the left, while Mahoney Meadows Road, my route today, continues along Mahoney Ridge. Park Headquarters, my destination tomorrow, is up in the direction of the high grassy ridge in the distance. - I pause along Mahoney Meadows Road to take in the view across the canyon to Willow Ridge on the other side.
It looks as if a very steep trail descends the face of Willow Ridge down into the canyon, on the right in the photo. Perhaps it's just massive erosion because I've not noticed any trail there on my maps. The more moderate (it didn't feel moderate!) Willow Ridge Trail that I had problems climbing on day two of the trip more or less rises up the slope in the centre-left of the photo. - Mahoney Meadows Road continues its descent along the ridge through the meadow.
There are a few short uphill segments along here, but it's mostly rather brisk downhill riding. - More picturesque rolling down Mahoney Meadows Road.
That short little hill just ahead turns out to be quite steep and I have a hard time dragging the 10-ton bike up it a few feet at a time. (My feet keep slipping back while I hold the bike in place with the brakes on.) Though I had to walk the bike on a few short stretches earlier today, this is the only demanding bike-dragging that I've had to do during the last few days. - The beautiful ride down Mahoney Meadows comes to an end when I reach the intersection of the China Hole Trail.
Actually, Mahoney Meadows Road continues down the hill to Los Cruzeros, where I crossed dry Coyote Creek on day two. But I'm not going that route now. From here at 1850 feet, the China Hole Trail drops down 700 feet over 2.1 miles. Though the ridge itself is quite steep, the many switchbacks along the trail make it a fairly gradual descent, by Henry Coe standards. At this intersection also begins the trail that leads down to Lost Spring. I'll camp tonight at the bottom of China Hole Trail. - A shady area on the upper part of the China Hole Trail.
This trail is popular with mountain bikers, yet I've never travelled it before, so I'm glad to finally ride it and see what it's like. I haven't come across any other visitors in the Park today, except for that bicyclist this morning passing through Pacheco Camp. - China Hole Trail pops out of the shady area and winds its way across an open meadow on the way down into the canyon.
Poverty Flat, which I rode through on day two, is in the canyon between the two hills on the left. - A few charming manzanitas further on down China Hole Trail.
I have a hard time resisting the urge to photograph manzanita trees for some reason. - The lower part of the China Hole Trail includes a number of switchbacks.
The shade here provides a nice cool-down cycle for the day's travels. - Another switchback on the lower part of China Hole Trail.
I walk the 10-ton bike around most of these switchbacks and on parts of the trail leading up to them. Even when walking the bike, negotiating them is sometimes a very technical exercise because they are tight, a bit steep, and there's hardly any trail width within which to manoeuvre. The unwieldy bike sometimes threatens to slide off the soft edge of the trail and down the hill, taking me with it, perhaps into a patch of poison oak as an additional bonus. This switchback here is really awkward to get down. Looking back, the short, steep and slippery rise suddenly levels out and turns sharply to the right just beyond the log on the ground. - A better view of that switchback in the previous photo.
It looks almost flat in this image. - The 10-ton bike waits a few feet above the rocky bottom of China Hole Trail while I look for a campsite.
The trail fizzles out somewhat near the bottom. Rather than risk getting the 10-ton bike stuck in the rocks on the way down, I'm down here seeing first where I want to bring the bike. - China Hole at sunset, looking northeast toward The Narrows.
Down here at 1150 feet, we're closed in by steep hills all around. This is mostly underwater during the winter months, but all that's left at this time of year are a couple of pools of water. Interesting fire-like reflection in the water. - Big grasses in the dry creek bed at China Hole, looking southwest down the canyon.
These grasses remind me of muhlenbergia, except that these have tall flower stalks rising up out of the middle. - After choosing a location for the tent, I bring the bike the rest of the way down to China Hole.
I've chosen to set up in front of those two big grasses that I like. It's rocky down here on the creek bed, so there aren't many spots where a tent should go. The best spot is right next to where the trail crosses the creek bed, so I may get a bit of traffic here. Hopefully not too much. This is a long weekend (Labour Day weekend), but the Park isn't so popular this time of year because it gets so hot up here. - Time to call it a day. The tent is set up at China Hole (looking northeast up the canyon).
Time to go in and relax a bit (and get away from the gnats buzzing around!) before making supper. Once I get inside, I hear voices, I think. No, it's not just leaves rustling in the breeze. I peer out the tent and see three or four backpackers further up the canyon, apparently looking to set up camp, which they do. There isn't supposed to be anyone else camping here tonight; there's just one site and I've reserved it. They stay out of sight, like good campers. After it gets dark and the gnats go away, I step outside to boil water for my last add-water-to-bag backpacker's meal; Mary Jane's Kettle Chili (vegan), supplemented by some spicy beef jerky on the side. The chili is really good, though I think of it more as a hearty lentil stew than as chili. I have an excellent sleep, again. - China Hole campsite this morning.
I managed to sleep in a bit this beautiful Labour Day morning. The enclosing hills here prevent the sun from getting down into the canyon too early and baking the tent. But the sun is shining on the tent now. It was almost, but not quite, cool overnight. I carry out my usual camping breakfast routine of making instant miso soup, coffee, eating handfuls of dry granola, then dried apricots and tamari almonds. - Stepping out onto a rock that rises above water level in the China Hole pool.
In the spring and early summer, when there's more water than this, it's said that this is a nice swimming hole. - The tent, as seen from the China Hole Trail rising up the northwest side of the canyon.
It's hard to get a good photo of this area because the canyon is narrow and there is so much foliage. - Close-up of the pool at China Hole.
There's an algal film along the gravel at the bottom of the pool, but the water itself looks fairly clean and clear. I wouldn't take a dip in this water, but if I had a functional water filter, I wouldn't hesitate to filter and drink this water. Last year, I filtered some water from much smaller residual pools of Coyote Creek near Arnold Horse camp and found the water to be of surprisingly good quality. There's another, similarly sized, pool of water a little further up the canyon here. - OK, I'm leaving China Hole. Crap, this is my last day in Coe Park and now I'm leaving and going back home.
Fortunately, it will take me all day to get home by bike, so the experience isn't over yet. Gee, if I had a car, I could get home more quickly. Bleh. First, I have to get to Park Headquarters, from where the real ride home begins. Park Headquarters is about 5.5 miles away from here and up at 2640 feet (I'm at 1150 feet right now), so I have some climbing to do. I'm in no hurry (to go back to work tomorrow?), so this should be enjoyable. There's a beautiful grove of big manzanitas on the way up the hill, and lots of great views to take in. - China Hole Trail rises quickly out of the canyon.
I'm just a couple of switchbacks up and I already have a great view up The Narrows. - I've just turned around and am looking back down into the canyon.
The China Hole campsite is down at the bottom somewhere. - China Hole Trail winds across a meadow on its way up.
With no drop-off on either side of the trail, I'm able to get back on the bike and ride this section. - A little higher up China Hole Trail, the trail rides along a steep slope. More great views!
I'm back to walking the 10-ton bike here; it would be too easy to fall down the hill! I climb up the hill to take this photo overlooking the bike on the trail below and The Narrows beyond. Of course, I'm getting a bunch of tarweed burrs stuck in my socks here off-trail! - A switchback as China Hole Trail climbs through an area of thick chamise chapparal.
One nice thing about impenetrable chamise thickets on steep slopes is that there's no danger of slipping off the edge of the trail and down the hill. - Beyond the carpet of chamise, manzanitas start appearing along China Hole Trail.
It's not quite as hot as it was the past few days, but I'm working up a bit of an uphill sweat and the shade here feels good. - China Hole Trail levels out a bit and is easier riding for a while.
This stand of manzanitas looks quite young, with their still-slender, lighter-coloured trunks. - Inside the manzanita tunnel, there's more sunlight than I was expecting.
The dappled lighting here adds even more texture to the already dense composition. - China Hole Trail enters into a tunnel of manzanitas.
It looks like not much of the bright sunlight makes it in there. - Still inside the manzanita tunnel.
The 10-ton bike likes it in here too. - Exiting the manzanita tunnel.
On the way out of the manzanita tunnel, there are fewer trees, but they are larger and ganglier. - China Hole Trail ends when it reaches Manzanita Point Road.
No more manzanitas to photograph. But the trip isn't over just yet. Park Headquarters is still another two miles away and 400 feet uphill, up Manzanita Point Road. - Rising up Manzanita Point Road toward Park Headquarters. A small low-flying airplane passes overhead.
Because it's at the end of my trips, I always forget that a few of the short hills on this road are actually rather steep. I don't ever recall seeing a low-flying aircraft crossing this area like I'm seeing now. - Coming up one of the last hills on Manzanita Point Road on the way back to Park Headquarters.
While paused here, I hear a crackling sound. I look around, and see the huge limb of an old oak tree across the meadow snapping and crashing to the ground, with no one around to witness it. Another small airplane flies overhead. Perhaps there's some kind of military activity going on out in the Central Valley on the other side of the park? - I reach a flat area on Manzanita Point Road and see smoke not far away; looks like a brush fire in Henry Coe State Park.
Now I know what those airplanes were doing: carrying water to douse the flames. I wonder if the area around Frog Lake is on fire, where I camped my first night out in this park six or seven years ago. Just before I get back to the Visitor Centre, I come around a bend and find the first fire engine to arrive is heading straight toward me on narrow Manzanita Point Road. I hear sirens not too far away, but this truck has its siren off, so I am startled when it suddenly appears. I quickly move off the road into the brush and up against the embankment as far as possible, which leaves just enough room for the fire engine to pass. At the Visitor Centre, I chat extensively with a couple of Park Volunteers and Park visitors. We have plenty of time because us last few visitors are not allowed to leave the park for an hour or so while fire crews bring more equipment and firefighters up the narrow, winding road to the Park. - The Henry Coe brush fire has grown a lot since my last photo four hours ago.
Riding down the mountain on Dunne Avenue from Henry Coe wilderness to Morgan Hill suburbia was pleasant as always, but there were a few fire trucks to watch out for coming up the hill. I'm stopped right now along Monterey Road down below, just outside of Morgan Hill on the way back to San José. I have another 20 miles or so before I reach home in downtown San José. - Cotton-candy smoke from the Henry Coe brush fire at sunset in central San José.
I stop on Monterey Road near Tully Road in south-central San José for a last glimpse of the Henry Coe brush fire before my trip officially ends. About four miles later, it's getting dark, I'm home, I'm tired, I'm happy and I'm noticing how much bigger my house is than my tent; even the bedroom feels big. I don't think I've ever went so long (nine days) without a hot shower. Besides photos, another souvenir I'll carry for a while is sore ribs (I try not to cough deeply or sneeze) and a couple of big bruises from my crash on Orestimba Creek Road a few days ago. I feel satisfied that I've really accomplished something on this trip, but I'm not quite sure what that is. I know the trip was successful because I find myself thinking of places that I didn't get to explore, giving me reasons to go back already. The Henry Coe State Park brush fire will continue to burn for over a week, and it will transform more than half of the park, including several areas where I just travelled and camped. It will be interesting to see the new growth in the area once the wet winter weather sets in. Until next time... - After a good long sleep, I make two cups of strong coffee as usual to get the day going
For breakfast, I make MaryAnn's "Tofu in a Ginger Broth," which is an excellent instant soupy meal. I did cool down overnight here under the huge oak trees, but not quite as much as I was hoping. - I fetch the clothes that I left overnight hanging near the Pacheco Camp sink
The clothes are mostly dry and I put on one of the lightweight wool t-shirts that I washed. I highly recommend these t-shirts if you can afford them. - I leave Pacheco Camp around 12h30 and within 30 minutes I'm on the ridge above riding through a semi-shady stand of burned pines
Upon leaving Pacheco Camp, the thermometer reads 92 degrees in the shade. At first, I'm fooled into believing that I have most of my energy back. After a few minutes of climbing up out of Pacheco Creek, I realize I'm still a bit pooped, so I've been walking up some of the hill up Coit Road. This part of Coit Road rises about 700 feet over two miles. - Hot and sweaty already, I park the 10-ton bike at the top of Coit Road and walk up the short hill to "Radio-tower Peak"
This isn't marked on my current map, but I've been told that it appears on some older Henry Coe maps. - Great views from up here
If I knew the topography well enough, I could probably pinpoint in the distance the hill above Red Creek Road that I rode up two days ago. Coit Road, which I just came up, is immediately below in this view. - I try making a cell-phone call here, and it works!
I change my outgoing message to let people know where I am, take in views out toward the Orestimba Wilderness for the last time this year, then return to the bike and coast down the other side of the ridge to Coit Lake. - After a short descent (about a mile), I pass the Fish and Game Pond
I would stop here, but the larger Coit Lake is just up the road a little ways. I get a breeze on the way down the hill, which feels wonderful, even though it's a hot breeze. - Despite the standard-issue sign on the outhouse at Coit Lake, there is in fact a trash can here
This is the first trash can I've seen in several days, so I take advantage of it and deposit the garbage I've accumulated. There's also a little handwritten note taped on the sign... - Apparently, this outhouse at the south end of Coit Lake is closed for repairs right now
I'm glad I wasn't counting on it being open! - The ramada and picnic table at the south end of Coit Lake
I haven't camped here yet, but from what I've read, many people like it here at Coit Lake. The ramada doesn't provide much shade from the midday sun! - I go for a brief walk up the trail along the shore of Coit Lake
Much of the shoreline on this part of Coit Lake is grown in, but here's a spot where it's easy to get to some open water to filter. - Next is the short climb (1/3 mile, 150 feet elevation gain) up Coit Road to the next crest on the way to Kelly Lake
Henry Coe is so full of long, steep hills that this almost doesn't qualify as a climb! Kelly Lake is hidden off to the left in the canyon below. The short piece of road off in the distance is another segment of Coit Road that I'll ride up in a while. - On the way down the 3/4 mile hill to Kelly Lake
I like how the chamise bushes look so red in the photo (they look less red in real life). - I park the 10-ton bike on the shady side of the Kelly Lake outhouse and go for a short walk toward the lake
I'm now one ridge closer to the Bay Area and it feels a degree or two cooler down here. At the upper right, I can see a portion of Coit Road that I'll be climbing shortly. - As I walk up the Kelly Lake dam, I see a tent near the lake in the distance
I can also see four people over there, two of whom are in the water, the first humans I've seen since entering Henry Coe six days ago. I don't approach them, not wanting to break their precious solitude, nor mine. I return to the 10-ton bike back at the outhouse. - Back on the 10-ton bike, I begin the ride up out of Kelly Canyon on Coit Road
A brief stretch of full shade like this, a rare and coveted commodity in Henry Coe State Park, is impressive enough that I clearly remember passing through here during last year's Henry Coe trip. - I rise out of the shady section and back into the hot sun at a tight switchback on Coit Road
I think the shade below refreshed me a little; it feels like some of my energy is coming back. I've been riding up most of this hill so far rather than walking it. - Nice view back down into the canyon and Kelly Lake
I keep thinking about those two people down at Kelly Lake who were in the water, and how cool that must feel in hot weather like this. - A lush mountain mahogany shows off its creamy-white post-bloom seed heads, which are just as nice as flowers
Note to myself: plant one of these in my garden. - Coit Road rises along a ledge through chamise chaparral toward the Wasno Ridge area
I always like chaparral landscapes, despite their unbearable summer heat, and the views off the edge of the road and across to Wasno Ridge make this area especially scenic to me. I think about the palette of plants along here and which ones I might plant in my garden at some point. I already have manzanitas, coyote bush and ceanothus. - Along here are numerous "California everlasting" plants with their dry flowers
Baking in the hot sun like it does here, California everlasting gives off an unusual maple- or curry-like aroma that I find comforting. - A little more pedalling and I cross the high point of Coit Road with its grove of buckeye trees sporting reddish leaves
Hey, I took a photo of this noteworthy buckeye grove when I passed by here last year... Yes, I'm hot and sweaty, and yes, sunscreen is running down my face after rising almost 600 feet over 1.7 miles from Kelly Lake in the heat. - I get the faintest glimpse possible across Silicon Valley while riding down Coit Road toward Mahoney Meadows
I won't get out of Henry Coe State Park nor arrive home until tomorrow afternoon, but a few ridges of the Santa Cruz Mountains, on the other side of Silicon Valley, the place that I call home, are just barely visible way beyond the nearby ridges here. - Now that I've passed the 2470-foot summit of Coit Road, it's downhill to China Hole, tonight's campsite at 1150 feet
The upper part of Coit Road descending Mahoney Ridge passess through a nice carpet of chamise chaparral with scattered clumps of grey pines and manzanitas (planted by a landscape designer?). - Beyond the chamise chapparal, Coit Road crosses grassland and eventually becomes Mahoney Meadows Road
The distant hill with a few brown patches looks like Pine Ridge, where the Henry Coe Visitor Centre sits. I'll stop by there tomorrow on my way home. - A few short uphills await me on the way down to China Hole
A bunch of grey buckwheat plants grow along the side of the road here. - Expansive views across to the Willow Ridge area on the right and far beyond as Mahoney Meadows Road descends
This gentle downhill is a lot of fun, and I rode this last year as well, but it probably gets tiring in the uphill direction, which I haven't tried yet. - Oh, an outhouse ahead!
That's the outhouse where the trails to China Hole and Lost Spring cut off. - I leave Mahoney Meadows Road and take the left trail fork toward China Hole
The right fork of the trail passes Lost Spring, which I haven't visited yet... I should plan a stop there on a future trip. - China Hole Trail drops down 700 feet into the canyon over two miles of nice single-track
This trail is a favourite of mountain-bikers because it provides scenic remoteness and challenges, without being insanely difficult, just a few miles from Henry Coe headquarters. - China Hole Trail exits the oak woodland on the crest and begins winding its way downhill across grassland
Single-track along hillsides is more fun for regular mountain biking than on a wobbly 10-ton bike that constantly threatens to slide off the edge of the trail. - One of many tight switchbacks on the way down China Hole Trail
I have to get off the 10-ton bike and walk it around switchbacks like this one to avoid losing my balance and falling. - Nice views across the canyon from the parts of China Hole Trail that cross open grassland
Sometimes I'll see another cyclist or two on day rides from Park headquarters while I'm in this area, but I still haven't seen anyone else all week except for the people off in the distance at Kelly Lake earlier today. - Now I'm on my favourite part of this side of China Hole Trail, where it passes through a manzanita grove
Of course, the shade along here is a gift on a hot day like today. - Getting closer to the bottom of the canyon, which is almost visible through the trees
The tight switchback here is almost impossible to see as it turns back 180 degrees and the trail drops down the hill behind the tree on the left. - Another switchback near the bottom of China Hole Trail
I get off the 10-ton bike again and walk it around this tight curve. - And here's China Hole, the gravel area to the left, which is actually a fork of Coyote Creek covered by water in the wet season
The last few feet of the trail is washed out, so I leave the 10-ton bike here while I figure out the best route for walking the bike down to the dry stream bed. - Before setting up camp, I check out the water situation at China Hole
The small pool is much smaller than it was when I was here at China Hole this time last year (it has been a dry year). The water contains a lot of algae, but I could filter water from it if needed. - The larger pool at China Hole still has a decent supply of water
I think I still have enough water from Pacheco Camp to last me through tomorrow, but if not, I'll filter some water from this pond tomorrow morning. - A dead fish rests in the large pool at China Hole
I wonder where this fish came from. Maybe it got trapped in the pool here as Coyote Creek dried up during the summer, or maybe an animal picked it up somewhere else and dropped it here accidentally... I pull the dead fish out of the water and leave it on dry land (I might be filtering some of this water to drink tomorrow). It disappears during the evening; apparently an animal found it and carried it away to munch on in a more private area. - I set up camp on the flat gravelly spot next to the China Hole Trail crossing of the dry creek
This might not be the best tent spot here privacy-wise since any trail users will pass by, but it's the flattest spot around that I see. I've since been told that there is a more private campsite further upstream, which I didn't notice. - I go outside the tent for a moment barefoot (which I usually never do) and step on a yellowjacket: instant sting
This might be just painful for some, but I'm very allergic to wasps and am fearing a dangerous reaction. I take a benadryl and stab myself with one of the epinephrine syringes that I carry in case of this sort of emergency, and I survive. The needle turns out to be painless (I'm not even sure if it's in me when I inject myself). After an hour of worrying, I'm happy to notice that I'm not getting sick or feeling any signs of anaphylactic shock. Those wasp-venom desensitization shots I've been getting over the past eight months have helped! I feel like it's safe to try eating, so I prepare my last instant backpacking meal of the trip and enjoy it. No ducks down here like there were at Paradise Lake, but during the evening I've been hearing jays squawking, coyotes yipping, crickets singing and all sorts of unidentifiable noises in the brush. I even saw a few bats earlier. I take another Benadryl for its anti-inflammatory effect before going to sleep, happy that my "event" seems to have passed. The only problem is that walking on my swollen foot is difficult, but I won't need to do that while enjoying my last sleep of this Henry Coe trip. - I follow the road across the west end of Paradise Flat and then dip down into Red Creek
The big hill in the background should be Mississippi Ridge, with County Line Road more or less following the ridge line up on top. - Orestimba Creek Road rises a bit above the canyon, which becomes rather narrow after a while
I keep wondering why I haven't seen any signs on the left indicating trails; I know there are a couple of trails that climb the hills somewhere along here.