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- The steep road ahead doesn't look right, so I take a long break on a big rock near here and get out my map
I really need a water-and-Clif-bar break because it's over 100 degrees out here and I've hardly stopped during the 6.8 miles so far. It turns out that I'm just above dry Robison Creek near the eastern Park boundary, and overshot the Robison Mountain Trail by almost 2.5 miles. While I'm out here, a short walk down Robison Creek would be nice.... but it's time to turn back since I've already consumed four of the six litres of water that I started with. And there's little hope for finding more. Besides, the heat is starting to get to me, whether I want to admit it or not. - I begin backtracking and look for Murphy Trail along the way, an alternate route up to Robison Mountain
I don't see Murphy Trail, nor a sign for it, but I could probably just walk straight up the ridge to the top of the mountain. However, with my water and energy reserves evaporating, it's probably better not to. - Red Creek Road turns out to be a lesser road than I was expecting
This part of the road looks like it's underwater during the wet season. Red Creek Road follows Red Creek for over five miles and I'm wondering if most of it will look like this. - For safety reasons, I give up on the idea of hiking up Robison Mountain and continue backtracking along Orestimba Creek Road
This hike is still really enjoyable, but it's always disappointing for a hiker to not reach a foreseen destination. Then again, that leaves a goal to reach during the next trip! - It's a slow bumpy ride and it's fun to try to follow old tire tracks in the grass and stay on the "road"
However, you can't really get lost in the narrow canyon, whether you're on the actual road or not. This whole area is part of the Orestimba Wilderness, and thus off-limits to bicycles, with the exception of Red Creek Road itself. - I start back up the Rooster Comb Trail to the right to avoid the private property on Orestimba Creek Road ahead
In this view from the north, Rooster Comb Trail winds partway up the hill straight ahead and then drops back down to the left. Rooster Comb Summit sits at the top of that hill. - Just before entering this wooded area, I make a note of where it seems the Robison Mountain Trail should be
I see neither a sign nor the trail, but the map makes the location clear. Perhaps the junction was erased by last year's brush fire. - A downed pine tree lays across a switchback on the Rooster Comb Trail
Another victim of last year's brush fire. - I take a break at the junction of Robison Creek Trail; I'm almost four miles from Paradise Lake now on another hot, sweaty day
If I hiked 5.5 miles up Robison Creek Trail here (it's closed to bicycles), I would reach the spot where I turned around yesterday at the north end of Orestimba Creek Road. That would make an interesting trip one day. - I reach the Rooster Comb Summit Trail and decide to walk up it a quarter mile
I'm getting a bit tired from the heat, low on water, and I still have 3.5 miles before I make it back to Paradise Lake. But this short side trip should be scenic. - Suddenly, the lost trail in a dry grassy creek bed becomes a well-graded fire road that rises up a hill
I'm guessing that the road got graded during last year's brush fire to facilitate movement of emergency vehicles. - A quarter mile climb up a little hill
This appears to be an old fire road that has grown in over the years. - On the way up the hill, I reach a fallen oak that blocks the road
At first, I think I'll just lift the bike over it, until I realize that it will be easier to pick up some of the branches and throw them off to the side of the road. - Looking back at part of the little climb here out of the Red Creek canyon
Red Creek Road gained about 300 feet of elevation on this one-mile stretch. - I stop for a map check to see if I'm getting close to Hatch Spring yet
I don't want to do like I did yesterday again and miss points of interest! - From here, I can clearly see the trail up the Robison Mountain ridge line whose beginning I didn't see down below
It does look like it would be an awesome trail to hike, maybe on my next visit. Or maybe tomorrow? - The road drops back down to dry Red Creek
I'm still a half-mile or so from Hatch Spring. - I stop at the first summit on the trail and take in the views of the ranch below and the quiet hills
I reflect on the fact that I haven't seen another person since I entered Henry Coe three days ago. My cell phone doesn't work up here. - Ooo, a California fuschia in bloom!
This is the first one of these that I've seen today. I have lots of these growing in my garden at home, the perfect late-summer hummingbird attractor. - I reach this muddy area on Red Creek Road and figure that this must be water coming down the hill from Hatch Spring
It's always a bit odd to come across mud and water in dry landscapes like this. I don't need any more water right now, but perhaps I'll stop here for a refill on my way back. - Some very healthy wild roses grow by this moist spot on Red Creek Road
I like the raisin-like taste of rose hips after they ripen and dry out a bit, but these ones aren't at that stage yet. - I'm overheating, so I take a break in some shade and enjoy the breeze up on this hill
The breeze is hotter than it is cool, but it sure feels good on a still day when it's around 100 degrees. I suck back more water, which is hot now, and eat another Clif bar for more energy (I hope). - Just beyond the muddy area, I come to a small puddle and stream on the road
This, it turns out, is from the real Hatch Spring. The trickling water here looks cleaner than that at the muddy area. I'll be back later. The shade here feels great. - After my break, I drop back down to the Rooster Comb Trail, the sign for which is the white post at the centre-right
To avoid backtracking the rest of today's route, I consider climbing all the way up to the real Rooster Comb Summit and descending cross-country down a steep hill to get back to Paradise Lake. That route would be shorter, steeper and more dramatic, but I'm feeling more tired than adventurous right now. - I experience more great views on the return trip down Rooster Comb Trail to Orestimba Creek
It's amazing how Henry Coe State Park presents itself as green and lush in certain views, despite the summer aridity. - A half-mile later, Red Creek Road switchbacks 180 degrees and quits the canyon for good
During the next two miles, Red Creek Road will wind around the hillside and rise up to 2400 feet elevation, from here at 1650 feet. - In no time at all, I find myself looking down at the lower part of Red Creek Road where I came from
This is getting exciting. - Back on Orestimba Creek Road, I take a moment to explore the fenced entrance to the privately owned ranch
"& SON" was added to the "Roostercomb Ranch" sign after it was created... - The gravel of dry-in-summer Orestimba Creek radiates heat on a 100-degree day like concrete does in a big city
This area always makes me sweat! I take a break under trees at the junction of Red Creek Road, knowing that the final mile across shadeless Paradise Flat will make me wilt. - The constant incline isn't all that steep
Still, I'm wilting in the 100-degree heat with no shade, so I walk the bike up a few stretches that I would ride in cooler weather. - The views keep getting better as I climb up Red Creek Road
And I keep getting hotter and hotter. A good excuse to stop occasionally and savour the views. - I spot an interesting feature: a little cabin, probably privately owned, on the other side of the canyon
What a secluded location! I haven't seen another person since I entered Henry Coe four days ago... - While walking the mile up Red Creek toward Paradise Lake, it occurs to me that something here has changed since last year...
It's not apparent at first glance, but the brush fire here a year ago demolished a ceanothus grove that provided a bit of shade on the road. The small green plants are probably post-fire shrub regrowth. - Finally, hiding in the "shade" of a few chamise bushes, I get enough of a signal to make a call on my cell phone
I call in to change my outgoing message so that callers know where I am, and I send a text message to the boy. I'm burning up in the hot sun, feeling a bit nauseous and out of breath, so my new outgoing phone message sounds like I'm on the verge of death! Maybe I am. My drinking water is hot to drink and my bike is hot to touch. This is my first phone reception in several days, so I hope nobody is worried about my temporary disappearance. Worst of all, my profuse sweating is making my sunscreen run off my face in the most unsightly fashion! - Arriving back at Paradise Lake, a pretty sight, home again for the night
If I had taken the cross-country route instead to get back here from Rooster Comb Summit, I would be arriving down the big yellow hill ahead, on the other side of the lake. - The views and solitude up here on the ridge are so amazing, making the effort to get here worthwhile
It's one ridgetop after another, into the endless distance. The fingers of a faint breeze occasionally touch me, but it's not enough to produce any cooling effect. - The tent is intact; I always wonder how many curious animals visit it during my absence
One thing I've noticed since arriving here a few minutes ago is that it's a bit hotter down here. I guess this gulley retains heat in the same way that the floor of Death Valley does. - The road rolls along the ridgetop for half a mile or so
Up on top, I have great views on both sides of me now. It's impossible for a camera's limited breadth of vision to capture any of the feeling that this produces. You can't tell here that I'm on top of the world. - I get my first view toward the north, above Upper San Antonio Valley
I'll be down there for a brief visit in a few minutes. I like the yellow dry stream (yellow from tarweed flowers) in the middle of the valley and the small pond at the far right. - I peel the outer layer off the tent to expose as much screen as possible and take a break inside away from the flies
After 14 miles walking in the heat, it feels good to relax in the hot tent and enjoy the sound of the birds. Occasional jets overhead (Paradise Lake is under a flight path) remind me that I'm close to civilization, even though there's apparently nobody around for miles. - Upon hearing some noises outside, I discover a lone wild pig moseying around the Paradise Lake dam
I find this unusual because I have never come across a solitary wild pig. - Red Creek Road now descends a brief downhill into the Upper San Antonio Valley
I haven't been up into this northern part of the Park before, so there are no familiar landmarks. - The road I can see from here is on private property outside the Park, but is a piece of County Line Road
If it were open to the public, that road would connect further south with County Line Road that I rode on the way from Pacheco Camp to Paradise Lake a few days ago. - Red Creek Road merges with a piece of County Line Road, but is then blocked shortly afterward by a private-property gate
I park here and go for a short walk into the field on my right, which is inside Henry Coe Park boundary (even though the road is not). There exists another short piece of County Line Road half a mile north of here that is also part of the Park. I could hike over to it around the private property and then up the trail to San Antone Spring. I'm tempted to do it, but I'm feeling already beyond my limits in today's heat. Why don't all my photos indicate heat radiating off of everything (including me)? - I'm boiling water for my backpacking meal tonight at dusk; usually I wait until after dark for some unknown reason
Tonight's meal is Backpacker's Pantry Jamaican BBQ Chicken, which is pretty good, but I remember it being better for some reason. Perhaps the heat has killed my taste buds, despite my desire and need for calories. More `groups` of ducks (if that's what they are) return to Paradise Lake tonight with the whistle of pre-explosion fireworks and I'm amused again. After dark, I keep hearing coyote yips and howls. It sounds like they are in different hillside locations and calling to each other across the little valley here. Crickets hum and I write notes about today's hike, which is the longest I've ever hiked in this kind of heat. - I go for a short walk over to the middle of Upper San Antonio Valley
Coasting down the short hill to get here helped, but I'm still feeling really overheated. - Another blazing-hot morning at Paradise Lake, Henry Coe State Park
I slept really well last night. The temperature dropped into the low 60s overnight. I drink my strong, hot coffee outside. Yesterday, I insisted on drinking my coffee in the tent to avoid the flies. However, it's so hot this morning that I am willing to tolerate the flies in exchange for the privilege of being outside the tent. Yes, I'm wearing my sweatband because I'm sweating. - I've packed up the bike for a mountain-bike ride up to the top of Red Creek Road
This is the first and only mountain-biking day excursion that I do on this trip without carrying everything, leaving my home-base campsite in place. I think I need to wipe the sunscreen into my facial pores a little better, but I'm already starting to sweat it off. - I check out a dry water hole in the middle of Upper San Antonio Valley and then decide to begin the trek back to Paradise Lake
I'm so close to San Antone Spring, which would make a nice three-mile round-trip hike from here. Easy, except that I'm hot and exhausted right now... - I walk back to the road and and begin the short ride back up to the summit of Red Creek Road
What I'm most excited about right now is the big, effortless downhill ahead of me to Red Creek once I get over the summit. - On my way out of Paradise Lake, I stop by the dam and pump six litres of water for the day
I've been told that Hatch Spring up Red Creek Road will probably have water, but since I haven't been there before, my best bet is to load up here. - The gentle rollers along the top of the ridge here at about 2400 feet are fun to ride, even in the heat
The small green plants in front of me to the right are mostly regrowth sprouting from the stumps of plants that burned during the big brush fire that started on the last day of my Henry Coe trip last year. - As I begin the big two-mile downhill, I'm reminded why I bother putting so much effort into reaching high places by human power
The feeling of self-sufficiency from travelling distances by one's own energy provides empowerment that exercise machines in a gym can't. A giant vanity pick-up truck doesn't provide this either, even though it would simplify travel across rough terrain. The views from up here are awesome; I almost hate to return to Paradise Lake. - On the way back down to Red Creek, I come across a view of switchbacks that I will coast down in a few minutes
I didn't notice this particular view on the way up. Heading downhill reinvigorates me a little. - OK, I'm almost down at the bottom of the hill and I can see bits of dry Red Creek down in the canyon below
Of course, I don't really want this downhill to end. The hot air blowing past me as I roll downwards feels almost refreshing (or is it a convection oven baking me more quickly?) - After a half-mile in the lower part of Red Creek Road, I pull over when I reach Hatch Spring and go for a short walk
The deep shade here is so refreshing on a 100-degree day. The area is subtly fragrant from the oak-leaf litter and other moisture-loving plants. - I walk a short distance up the stream below Hatch Spring to look for the best place to filter some water
It's amazing to find ferns, humidity-loving plants, in this moist corner of an otherwise unforgivingly hot and dry landscape. I've already drank five of the six litres of water that I brought with me from Paradise Lake, and I could have drank more. - The stream coming down from Hatch Spring is small, but clean
I locate a good spot that is free of poison oak and filter four more litres of water. This water tastes better than the filtered water from Paradise Lake. And it's slightly chilled! True refreshment! - After pumping water at the stream from Hatch Spring, I enjoy the rise of the recently graded road above dry Red Creek
I'm glad to report that the heat of the day is dissipating a little down here in the canyon where the sun doesn't shine so strongly this late in the day. Phew! - Of course, what comes up must come down, and Red Creek Road drops back down to the dry stream bed
More fun ahead trying to figure out where the trail is, and isn't! - It's such a treat to have a bit of shade at the end of a really hot day
But it's still in the 90s... You know it has been a hot day when low 90s feel refreshingly cool. - A half-mile rise out of the canyon, and then a ride across Paradise Flat back to the lake...
Most of the final mile is slightly downhill, which is just what I need right now. - A fire-like reflection in the water greets me as I ride down the hill to Paradise Lake
The sun is behind the hill just enough now that my tent can start to cool down. I'm returning to camp a bit dehydrated, and tired of course, but very pleased with the day's travels. - Back at the tent, the first thing to do is wipe myself down and get rid of some of the salt and sunscreen residue on my skin
As an added bonus, I pour lots of water over my head. That feels great. - And it's definitely time to put on a clean pair of socks
... and pick out the bits of grass and seed that have gotten stuck in the fabric during the day. - Supper tonight is Mountain House Chicken and Rice, a flavourful and oily 800-calorie "meal for two"
I like how the corn oil in this meal extends the chicken flavour. But it's really heavy, so best saved for later days of a trip when the extra energy is needed. Around 21h, I hear a noise outside the tent, which turns out to be a wild boar moseying around. Oddly, he doesn't seem to have any family members with him. He doesn't get too startled when he realizes that I'm there, like boars usually do, but I coax him to move onward. I write notes in my journal, listen to the birds, coyotes and jets outside in the darkness, and eventually go to bed for my third and final night at Paradise Lake. - My final morning at Paradise Lake, I'm up early in an attempt to get packed up before the hot sun becomes unbearable
It's cool enough by Paradise Lake this morning that I have to wear my sweater for the first time during the trip. But only for an hour, and then the heat sets in. I only drink one cup, instead of two, of my beloved strong Peets coffee this morning due to the heat. I sometimes wish I could be a morning person and get up earlier and still enjoy the day. - I pack up the disorganized mess that my tent has become after living here for three nights
If I had more vacation time to spend here, I'd probably stay another night and hike up to Robison Mountain as I intended to do two days ago. - Finally, the tent comes down and my departure from Paradise Lake is now imminent
The sun has come over the hill and the day is heating up quickly, even at this early hour. Sweat drips off my face as I pack my saddlebags and assemble the 10-ton bike. - I park the 10-ton bike at the bottom of the hill on the road that leaves Paradise Lake
I walk down to the lakeshore to filter 4.5 litres of water, which should be plenty to get me to Pacheco Camp a few hours from now. - I can smell the plant growth in the lake under the hot morning sun as I pump water through the water filter
Quite a few yellowjackets are buzzing around and I'm watching them carefully due to my wasp allergy. They seem busy gleaning vapours off the water's edge and uninterested in me, even though I'm transpiring enough to become attractive to them. - I carry my saddlebags up the hill separately from the bike and reassemble the rig at the top of the hill in a shady area
I'm feeling so lazy this morning that I didn't even want to try dragging the bike up the short, slippery hill here, a few feet at a time, like I do on longer hills of this sort. Maybe I should have camped up here in the shade, instead of down by the lake... - After riding a mile down Red Creek Road across Paradise Flat, I'm back at the gravel of Orestimba Creek
I'm hot already, so I stop here in the shade for a few minutes while it's available. - The gravel crunches beneath my tires on Orestimba Creek Road
I'll have to come out here some year during the spring to see what this looks like when it's underwater. It's only around 10h30, but the gravel is already giving off lots of heat. - Orestimba Creek Road climbs out of the creek, then drops back down into the gravel, then back up on dry land
I meant to watch out for the trail that leads over to Mustang Pond, just like I did when I was out here last year. But I got into the rhythm of mountain biking and missed it again. - I forgot to look for the trail to Mustang Pond, but I haven't forgotten to look for the trail to Kingbird Pond; here it is
Kingbird Pond is only a half-mile down this dead-end trail and I have plenty of time today. I leave the 10-ton bike here and do the short hike to the pond to check it out, since I haven't been there before. It might make a good future camping spot. - Kingbird Pond Trail dips down to a dry (in summer) drainage, then rises up the other side
I munch on Clif bar as I walk down the trail. The dry stream at the bottom of this hill would channel overflowing water from Kingbird Pond down to Orestimba Creek during the wet season, but not today. - Kingbird Pond Trail crosses a dry area studded with ceanothus shrubs
Ceanothus bushes stay green all summer, through the drought months, and can put on an incredibly vivid and fragrant flower show for a few weeks in the spring. The whole bush will become white or blue, depending on the flower colour. I'd love to see this area at that time. - I walk around a bend and here it is: Kingbird Pond
Nice area and good potential future camping spot, but I'm baking here in the sun while looking at the spectacle. - Aquatic plant life at Kingbird Pond
With so much plant life in the water here, I wonder if the water here tastes really green, even after filtering, like the water at Mississippi Lake. Hmmm... I walk back to the bike. - Back on the bike, I can't help but think that the rolling hills of Orestimba Creek Road are probably more fun in cooler weather
Usually my energy picks up after a while, even in 100-degree heat like this, but I've been on the road for close to two hours today and still feel exhausted. Maybe I need a rest day... - I'm happy when I reach the picnic tables of Orestimba Corral, which has become a designated break stop for me
I spend about 15 minutes here drinking water and eating a Clif bar and some Cajun almonds that usually taste too salty to me, but which are perfect today. - One final mile up Orestimba Creek Road and I'm at the junction of County Line Road
The next mile will be a 350-foot climb up to the top of Misissippi Ridge. - The climb up County Line Road isn't steep, but I just can't seem to get any energy going on this hot day
I find myself walking the bike up much of the hill, even though I feel like I should be able to ride it. - Little by little, I make my way up toward Mississippi Ridge
I get a nice view back down to Orestimba Creek Road along the way. I might be feeling a bit pooped, but I'm making decent progress anyway. - A bit higher up, I'm treated to views out toward Orestimba Wilderness and Paradise Lake
Already, the three nights I spent out there at Paradise Lake are a memory. - I've reached Mississippi Ridge and I'll turn left here on Coit Road
I take a short break here in the hot sun, and try to make a call from my cell phone, but the reception isn't quite strong enough. - I coast down Coit Road to Mississippi Creek
It feels great to have air blowing on me, even though it's hot air. It must still be 100 degrees today... Pacheco Camp, where I'm headed, is over below the next ridge. - At the bottom of the hill, I cross dry Mississippi Creek again
The buckeye trees on the left with their dry reddish-brown leaves await the fall rains and the winter return of the creek. - It's uphill for the next mile to the top of Pacheco Ridge, 550 feet above
There's a bit of shade down here, so I stop for another short break to take advantage of it. - The climb up to Pacheco Ridge brings with it more excellent views of the ridges beyond
I'm disappointed that the descent down to Mississippi Creek didn't succeed in invigorating me much in this heat. This hill isn't so difficult, but I find I can only ride the upper segment, which is flatter. - I suck back water at the joyous moment of attaining Pacheco Ridge
Here I finish off the last of the 4.5 litres of now-hot water that I filtered from Paradise Lake this morning. I've consumed (and sweated out) all that in 3.5 hours? - OK, it's downhill now for the last 3/4 mile to Pacheco Camp in the canyon below; phew
I'm not an especially strong hiker-biker, but I do have good stamina. On a low-energy day like today, I seem to be propelled by stamina alone. - Pacheco Camp = cold water!
The first thing I do upon arrival at Pacheco Camp is soak my head with cold water from the hose. I need this badly, since I obviously have a bit of heat exhaustion happening. - 94 degrees down here in the shade where it feels "cool"
During the past several days, I've been presuming that it was over 100 degrees, but didn't really know for sure. Now I know. - I set up the tent and get to the business of taking a cold spring-water shower in the shower shed
I'm hot, sweaty and salty, and I've been waiting for this shower for a few days now! - Whoever came up with the idea for an outdoor shower at Pacheco Camp deserves a round of applause
To make it work, you bring in the garden hose from the outdoor sink and hook it up to the shower head, and voilà! Even in the heat of summer, the water drawn in from Pacheco Spring is quite cold, and I can only stand under it for a few seconds at a time. But it's so refreshing... - Away from the stream of water in Pacheco Camp's shower shed sits an old car seat
Once you wipe off a few spider webs and some dust, it's a great place to leave glasses and clothes while showering. Even after my cold shower, I'm still feeling a bit sluggish. During the next couple of hours, I drink two cups of electrolyte-replacer, more cold water, 2/3 of a pouch of Snackmaster turkey jerky (yum), then 1/2 cup of coffee, in the hope that something can revive me. All this helps a little, but the reality is that I've reached my limit and need more rest. I wash a few clothes in the sink. A little later, supper is Backpacker's Pantry Kathmandu Curry, a really good vegan meal that successfully brings together the flavours of brown lentils, potatoes and curry spices. Another quiet night, and I sleep well. - Morning at China Hole: too many flies buzzing around to enjoy morning here, so I try to pack up as quickly as possible and leave
Of course, this still takes me a while, and I eat a quick breakfast and make a cup of good coffee anyway. An early mountain biker comes down the trail and waves "hello" as he passes, the first other person that I've seen up close in a week. - View down the canyon behind my tent site at China Hole, Henry Coe State Park
Lee pointed out to me in an e-mail that the plants shooting up through the grass-like tufts here are a different plant than the tufts below (I had thought they were all part of the same plant). - A few yellowjackets are still buzzing around the ground near my tent, feeding on this "leaf"
It's not until after I take this close-up shot that I realize that this is not a leaf, but a dead cricket of some kind that the yellowjackets are slowly feasting upon. No wonder they're still here! - I finally get the 10-ton bike packed up and snap one last photo before departing China Hole
It was pleasantly cool overnight, but the canyon is heating up substantially now that the sun is starting to shine down here. Time to get out and away from all the flies here! - I start limping up China Hole Trail with the 10-ton bike
This lower part of the trail is rather steep, so excellent vistas back down into the canyon present themselves almost instantly. That might be the brutal Willow Ridge Trail that I can see rising up a distant hillside. I didn't climb that trail during this trip, but I've learned to respect it during previous trips here. - I come around a switchback and can see back down to China Hole below
After a tough, but rewarding and enjoyable, week at Henry Coe Park, I hate to be on my way home, and leaving the Park behind me. - I bend around a switchback in another of my favourite stretches of China Hole Trail as I limp along upward
I'm a fan of chamise and ceanothus chaparral like this, which is a common vegetation type on hillsides in the California coast ranges. - China Hole Trail passes briefly through a stand of manzanitas
The trail will pass through a denser, shadier stand of manzanitas shortly, but there will be a bit a more open chamise chaparral on the way to there from here. - Rising higher on China Hole Trail, I still have some grandiose views down into the Coyote Creek canyon below
This won't last much longer though, as I enter more manzanita forest and get on the ridge that climbs toward Park headquarters. - China Hole Trail passes through a lot of chamise again before entering another manzanita-dominated area
The manzanita grove ahead is marked by all the lighter green leaves pushing above the carpet of chamise chaparral. - Now I pass through my most favourite part of China Hole Trail, "the manzanita tunnel"
The manzanita growth seems slightly less dense than what I remember from last year. Faulty memory perhaps, but some trimming may have been done, either by maintenance crews or last year's brush fire. Passing here means that I've almost reached the top of the trail. - Looking back down toward the canyon across to Willow Ridge from Manzanita Point Road, about 1100 feet above China Hole
The road is actually flat for a brief stretch here on the ridge, but that doesn't last of course! The last couple of miles up Manzanita Point Road climb a few hundred feet more on the way to Park Headquarters. Most of the grade is quite gradual, but it can feel steep if you're tired and on the way back to headquarters after a long day hike. I pass a Park volunteer along here and say "hello." After a week in the wilderness, it feels odd to be speaking to people again... - Woo hoo, I've made it back to Henry Coe Headquarters and my week spent in the Park comes to an end
I go inside and have a good chat with the folks on duty and consume a couple of cans of Coke, which I only drink on bikepacking trips (toward the end). Though it's cooler today, it's still 90 degrees, so there aren't many people here in the "busy" part of the Park. I rinse my sweaty head and fill up with cold water before leaving. - I begin the 2600-foot descent down Dunne Ave from Henry Coe State Park to Silicon Valley
It is a lot of work to make it to the top of this road by human power, but the ride back down always makes the effort worthwhile. - I snap a few photos on the upper part of Dunne Avenue, looking down to Silicon Valley
Once I get involved with the 10-mile downhill, it's hard to interrupt myself to stop for photo breaks. - This is one of the best views from upper Dunne Avenue down to Anderson Reservoir and the town of Morgan Hill below that
The road is too narrow to stop here if you're in a car, but not if you're on a bike. Anderson Reservoir looks like it's at the bottom of the hill, but it's actually several hundred feet above Silicon Valley. - On the way down, I stop at the portable toilets at Anderson Reservoir, which is a County park
Despite the hot weather, Anderson Reservoir is teeming with people picnicking and barbecuing today, and a few folks are out in the water in their boats. It's not a tranquil place like Henry Coe State Park up the hill! - The final steep hill down to Silicon Valley is a blast and I begin the 23-mile northward ride home on the flat valley floor
Riding through the endless suburban tract houses in Morgan Hill isn't the most interesting, but there's a hint of a cool breeze down here that feels very good after a week in the heat. - Coyote Creek Trail is my chosen route back into San José today instead of the busy, but more direct, Monterey Road
Coyote Creek Trail has some shady segments that are enjoyable in today's heat, and it's always nice to be out of busy traffic. However, on some of my trips, I just take Monterey Road because it's more direct. - Other long sections of Coyote Creek Trail are quite hot and exposed to the sun
The best thing is that the temperature seems to be dropping just a little... - 15 miles on Coyote Creek Trail, then another seven miles on nasty San José streets, and I'm home!
I stop at a Vietnamese tofu shop on Senter Road for a tasty snack of fresh fried onion tofu cubes and hop in the shower as soon as I get home. Another tough Henry Coe trip is over! Once I recover (give me a few days!), I'll probably feel inspired again and start thinking about doing another trip at Henry Coe next year. - The boy drops me off at the Hunting Hollow entrance to Henry Coe and we bid each other goodbye for a week
A couple of cars sit in the otherwise empty parking lot with a few people who seem to have finished their hiking or biking for the day. At first, we wonder why one group has chosen to hang out in the hot sun, but then we realize that the shady areas are controlled by a lot of annoying small flies. It is a rather warm day, in the mid 80s, but still comfortable. On the way here, we stopped at a Starbuck's and In-and-Out Burger in Gilroy that turned out to be a suburban traffic-jam nightmare that we quickly regretted. - I pedal slowly down the road from Hunting Hollow and make my first stop at Fern Spring, after a quarter mile
This is the closest spring to the Hunting Hollow parking lot, which has no water available. However, I've brought enough water to last me most of the day, so I don't need to filter any of the brackish water here. I'll see a mountain lion drinking from this spring a little over a decade later from today. - The mostly flat road through Hunting Hollow
I'm still warming up and getting used to the heavily loaded bike, so it's nice that the first three miles in Hunting Hollow are mostly flat and relaxing. The road crosses a dry (in summer) creek several times. The steep Lyman Willson Trail, which I've hiked before, but won't be using today, is visible here climbing up the hill on the left. - The views back down to Hunting Hollow below are already inspiring, and I've not risen much yet
The hard work of hiking or mountain-biking a steep landscape like Henry Coe usually provides instant gratification in the form of excellent views. Not everyone likes hard work, but everyone likes instant gratification. - At the end of the three flat miles in Hunting Hollow, Henry Coe reality sets in as I begin the climb up Wagon Road
The climb starts out quite steep and whips me into shape. On steep stretches like this, I drag the bike up a few feet at a time, keeping the brakes on to prevent the bike from slipping back, and pay attention to my footing so that I don't slip while holding the bike in place. - The climb up Wagon Road becomes more moderate after the initial steep section out of Hunting Hollow
The really steep hill down below took a lot out of me, but I'm warming up and doing better now. I remind myself to drink lots of water to stay hydrated. - I see that Wagon Road has another steep hill ahead for me
So I'm enjoying this short, flat part of the road, and the little bit of shade that's available here. - I've reached the first summit of Wagon Road and will now descend into the gulch and begin the climb to the second summit
I've climbed about 800 feet during the last 1.5 miles, so the short downhill ahead of me will be a welcome respite! The next steep uphill on Wagon Road is visible ahead. The slight breeze up here pressing against my sweaty skin feels good. - Climbing up toward the second summit of Wagon Road
It's a lot of work getting up this hill, but still quite not as tough as I thought it might be (I remember hiking up it a year ago). - I stop here to pump up my rear tire; Willson Camp, my next stop, is visible at the far left
I guess I have a flat tire, but my "slime"-filled tube has been repairing the flat as I roll along and slowly lose air. Willson Camp, my next stop, is visible at the far left. - I filter some cold water from the spring behind Willson Camp
The water that I'm carrying has gotten quite warm, so the cold water here is a welcome refreshment. The shade here is nice break from the hot sun, and the layer of bay leaves on the ground exudes a comforting aroma. - I wouldn't be surprised if this mattress in the Willson Camp bedroom is full of little mice!
Old and new again: the abandoned mattress sits in front of a relatively new metal window. - The Willson Camp cabin boasts an ample living room
The light bulb near the front door shows that the cabin did (or does) have access to electricity. - The side door to the Willson Camp cabin is open, so I step inside
The broken door appears to be the product of an act of vandalism. - The old cabin at Willson Camp, Henry Coe State Park
The modern metal windows contrast sharply with the traditional board-and-batten wood siding. - Beyond Willson Camp, some of the rise on Wagon Road is very gentle and easy to ride as it rolls along the ridges
This five-mile upper portion of Wagon Road between two places that I know, Willson Camp and Coit Road, is new to me and has wonderful views to the east. It only rises a few hundred feet. - I pass a modern outhouse at the junction of Wagon Road and Wasno Road, near Wasno Pond
It's only 4.5 miles from this point to Pacheco Camp, today's destination, and much of that will be downhill. This is good news; I had been wondering if maybe I wouldn't reach Pacheco Camp before dark. - More breathtaking views to the east from the Wagon Road ridge
The colours are especially nice at this time of day. - Just beyond the junction of Coit Road, I pass a lesser trail on my right, Live Oak Spring Trail, and decide to take it
This is my first time on Live Oak Spring Trail. It will rejoin Coit Road 1.6 miles further down on the way to Pacheco Camp and should provide an interesting detour. - Live Oak Spring Trail, Henry Coe State Park
Not everything is burned, but there is a lot of visible damage on Live Oak Spring Trail from last year's big fire. - After 0.8 miles, Live Oak Spring Trail splits into an upper and a lower trail trail for the next half mile
I choose the upper trail because I want to see the spring there. This part of the upper trail is quite grown in with yellow tarweed flowers, whose scent I really enjoy while riding through. (Will someone try making tarweed-scented soap someday?) - This is Live Oak Spring, Henry Coe State Park
The water is green and unappealing, but it's nothing that my water filter couldn't take care of if I were short on water right now. I consider camping somewhere near here, but decide to head on down to Pacheco Camp as planned, just a few miles further. - A downed tree on Live Oak Spring Trail, Henry Coe State Park
It appears that park patrol vehicles don't come down this trail very often. - More fire damage on the upper Live Oak Spring Trail
Many burned plant carcasses along the grown-in trail here are exhibiting fresh green growth from the root base. - Soon enough, I'm back on Coit Road for the final 0.7 miles down to Pacheco Camp
Pacheco Camp is about 350 feet lower down in the canyon. It will only take a few minutes to ride down this hill. - And here we are at Pacheco Camp for the night! (elevation 1689 feet)
I stayed here for the first time during last year's Henry Coe trip and really liked the place, so I'm back. The cooler air down here in the canyon is refreshing after the warm day. Time for my first add-boiling-water-to-bag backpacker's meal of the trip! It's Mountain House Teriyaki Beef with Rice and is tasty. I'm enjoying the tranquility and the birds flitting about in the huge oak trees here. A couple of deer saunter over to the spring tub for a few licks of water before darkness takes over. I haven't seen anybody since leaving the Hunting Hollow parking lot this afternoon. - Noon sunshine at Pacheco Camp with my tent hiding under the big oak tree on the left
I slept in late this morning (I am on vacation after all). After the usual camp breakfast of granola, tamari almonds, beef jerky, strong coffee, and dried apricots, I browse my maps to come up with a hiking route for the day. My original plan was to ride out to Paradise Lake today, but I like this area of the Park too and haven't explored it much yet. - The old cabin at Pacheco Camp is well-maintained, locked and used by the Park for special events
I heard (or read) somewhere that last year's huge brush fire came very close to here and that firefighters somehow managed to keep the fire from reaching the cabin area. - The metal fire pit near Pacheco Camp cabin sports an appropriate message for the hot-and-dry season
"No campfires please, thanx." Campers like me are still free to use their camp stoves. - The thermometer on the shady side of the shower building shows 80 degrees F
A pleasantly warm day that will feel warmer than that later this afternoon in the hot sun. - The Pacheco Spring tub is full of fresh water (and a few yellowjackets)
The water quality at Pacheco Spring is excellent. Instead of filtering water from the tub, I take water straight from the tap outside the shower building. The water is unfiltered, but tastes great and I haven't suffered any ill effects from it yet. - The old outhouse at Pacheco Camp (no longer used) sits near the more recent concrete outhouse a bit up the hill
The little four-pane window and board-and-batten exterior of this building match the style of the old cabin down below. - I finally start today's hike, first up White Tank Spring Trail, and pass this dormant hillside gooseberry (ribes californicum)
I have a couple of these prickly plants in my dry garden, which are green and covered with tiny hummingbird-attracting flowers during the winter months. I enjoy the late-summer rusty look of this plant as well. - White Tank Spring, Henry Coe State Park
Presumably, this rusty old water tank holds water from the spring. - White Tank Spring, Henry Coe State Park
The water in the spring tub is algae-rich and the spring is not flowing right now. - Above Pacheco Camp, White Tank Spring Trail passes through a ceanothus grove before rising into a drier, more exposed area
White Tank Spring Trail rises about 700 feet over two miles. The trail is a bit more grown-in than I was expecting. - Fluffy clematis post-flower seed heads along White Tank Spring Trail, Henry Coe State Park
This clematis was intertwined with a patch of poison oak, as is often the case. - View of damage from last year's brush fire from White Tank Spring Trail, Henry Coe State Park
There's a lot of post-fire regrowth here along White Tank Spring Trail, but the next hill over still looks quite barren. - View back toward Pacheco Camp from a ridgetop on White Tank Spring Trail
Pacheco Camp sits in the valley about 600 feet below. My energy level is high, and the day beautiful, but I am already starting to feel the effect of the hot sun. It's time to start drinking lots of water. - The top of White Tank Spring Trail crosses Hoover Lake Trail, an open area that was once an airplane-landing strip
On the other side of the abandoned airstrip, Hoover Lake Trail leads to Hoover Lake, which is not on today's hiking route. - After White Rock Spring Trail, I walk south along the ridgetop on Willow Ridge Road
After a mile I reach this intersection with this road that runs east (left) down the hill to Coit Lake, but I stay up on the ridge. I'm quite familiar with the parts of Willow Spring Road north of here and closer to Mississippi Lake (aka "Roller Coaster Ridge"), but this part of the road is new to me. - A couple of minutes later, and further south on Willow Ridge Road, I have a nice view down to Coit Lake
I won't be passing by Coit Lake today, but will probably stop there on my way out of the Park in a few days. - After almost two miles on Willow Ridge Road, I reach the junction with Coit Road
I continue straight ahead on Crest Trail, which is another fire road, despite the "trail" name. - I'm enjoying the view down Coit Road from Willow Ridge here, toward Kelly Lake and Wasno Ridge beyond
I enjoyed riding that Coit Road route during last year's Henry Coe trip and will probably do it again in a few days on my way out of the Park. - Crest Trail rises a bit more, eventually reaching approximately 2600 feet elevation
I'm now almost 1000 feet above where I started today at Pacheco Camp and have good views northward down to Coit Lake. - Near the top of Crest Trail is a transmission tower of some sort
I stop here for a water-and-Clif-bar break; I'm getting a little tired from hiking five miles so far in the hot sun. Today is definitely a bit hotter than yesterday, perhaps 90 degrees. - After Crest Trail, I hike down Wagon Road 3/4 mile to reach Center Flats Road
The views from here toward the east (left) and south (straight ahead) are awesome; I rode up this segment of Wagon Road last night. - Despite the name that suggests flatness, Center Flats Road looks like all downs and ups from here
Steep hills like these are demanding to traverse sometimes, but the views are usually rewarding enough to make the effort worthwhile. Still, I'm glad I'm on foot and not with the 10-ton bike today. - One of several steep stretches along Center Flats Road, Henry Coe State Park
Center Flats Road is one of those places where you're not sure if the overall direction is uphill or downhill; steep hills of both sorts are encountered along the way. - Well... part of the Center Flats Road ahead is somewhat flat
I guess that's as flat as it gets in most of Henry Coe State Park. - OK, but this "little" hill on Center Flat Road is definitely not flat!
It's almost vertical, and I'm glad that I'm hiking and not biking nor driving a four-wheel drive vehicle here. - This segment of Center Flats Road looks like a little landing strip on top of a hill
Inspiring views all around. - More Center Flats Road
We're doing dowwwwnnn..... - After 2.4 miles on Center Flats Road, and only 300 feet overall elevation drop, I begin the steep hike down Walsh Trail
In just 1.2 miles, Walsh Trail drops down 750 feet to Pacheco Creek then rises 450 feet up the other side of the canyon to Pacheco Ridge, below Walsh Peak (the grey, rocky peak straight ahead). - Wild berries (chokecherries?) on the way down Walsh Trail
I don't know if these are edible or not, so I don't touch them, but I enjoy occasionally nibbling on citrus-like manzanita berries here at Henry Coe when I come across them. - Walsh Trail descends quickly into the Pacheco Creek canyon
Walsh Trail is visible further ahead rising up the slope on the other side of the canyon. - Close-up of Walsh Trail rising up the hill on the other side of the canyon
I'll start climbing up that hill after I reach summer-dry Pacheco Creek at the bottom of the canyon. - Getting close to the bottom of Walsh Trail
Even though bicycles are permitted on Walsh Trail, I think I'm enjoying this trail better by foot than I would by bike, due to the steepness. - At the bottom of Walsh Trail near Pacheco Creek are some ruins of an old building
Perhaps this was once somebody's cabin. - This intact shed also sits at the bottom of Walsh Trail by Pacheco Creek
It must have been quite a chore hauling building materials to this remote location! - Walsh Trail crosses the dry Pacheco Creek stream bed here
The beginning of the trail up the other side isn't immediately visible, but it should be easy enough to locate. - I almost didn't see this skull camouflaged in the grass along Pacheco Creek
In an inattentive glance, the skull looks like one of the many light-colored rocks that dot the area. - At first, I find myself climbing up through a very burnt landscape looking for the trail
Most of these burnt shrubs that are sprouting new growth from the roots look like chamise. - I haven't climbed much yet, but I'm already way above Pacheco Creek
The bluish dot in the centre of the photo that looks like it might be water is actually the old tin building ruins that I passed earlier. - Ah, here's the trail!
I knew it was here somewhere... - I stop briefly to catch my breath on this rather heart-pounding climb
Looking back across the canyon to the lush hill that I just descended, it occurs to me that last year's big brush fire seems to have been contained here on this side of Pacheco Creek. - Almost at the top of Walsh Trail
This climb is only 0.4 miles long, but it rises 450 feet over that short distance. - I take a short break at the top of Walsh Trail, look back down, and drink a lot of water
Henry Coe State Park is full of top-of-the-world moments like this. I haven't seen another person since leaving the Hunting Hollow parking lot yesterday afternoon, so the park feels like it's all mine. - Starting the two-mile hike up Pacheco Ridge Road
I've worked up quite a sweat coming up Walsh Trail, and the fly getting nectar off my face seems to agree. The work of the day isn't over just yet because a bit more elevation gain awaits me up here on Pacheco Ridge. - I snap several shots of Walsh Peak as I hike up Pacheco Ridge Road
Walsh Peak is an area marker that I can't stop looking at. - Pacheco Ridge Road is a classic Henry Coe roller-coaster-ridge road with uphills in both directions
However, the name "Roller Coaster Ridge" unofficially belongs to Willow Ridge Road closer to Mississippi Lake. - Higher up Pacheco Ridge Road, I look back toward Walsh Peak again
This two-mile stretch of Pacheco Ridge Road rises 400 feet, in addition to the short up-and-down rollers along the way. - At the top of this part of Pacheco Ridge, the road winds to the right around the lush green knob ahead and through a shady area
Just beyond the knob ahead, I'll turn left and head down into the canyon to my tent at Pacheco Camp. The coolness of the shady area behind this knob is a welcome respite from the warm day and is filled with cool-air plant aromas. - I walk down the switchbacks of Coit Road for 3/4 mile to get back to my tent at Pacheco Camp
The road drops about 300 feet on the way to Pacheco Camp. - And voilà, here I am back at Pacheco Camp, 5.5 hours later
Wow, this was a really enjoyable day hike. - My tent and bicycle are here waiting for me at Pacheco Camp
I wonder if anyone passed through this area today while I was out... I haven't seen anyone since yesterday afternoon. - I walk around Pacheco Camp a bit and see an artifact that I hadn't noticed before
It's an old beer can that someone found and placed near the Pacheco Camp cabin. "Burgie!" or "Burgermeister." Not a brand that I'm familiar with. - It's certainly cooler down here in the canyon than it was up on the hills, and the temperature here shows 82 degrees F
Since it was a lot warmer than this up on the hills today, I wonder how hot it was up there. - Before the sun goes down, I take a cold-water shower and rinse some dirty clothes
Pacheco Camp's cold-water shower building and sink with water from Pacheco Spring in a garden hose is quite a gift in the Henry Coe backcountry. I hang my moist clothes to dry overnight from the nails in the wall above the outdoor sink. - Tent supper tonight is instant Mountain House Beef Stew, one of my favourite dehydrated backpack meals
The chewy texture of the rehydrated potatoes and beef pieces satisfies! A quiet and warm evening here, and I haven't seen anyone yet since leaving the Hunting Hollow parking lot two days ago. I'm glad I spent an extra day here hiking, but tomorrow, I'm off to Paradise Lake as planned to camp for a few nights by the Orestimba Wilderness. - I don't really want to leave Pacheco Camp, but today is the day that I ride to Paradise Lake to camp there for a few nights
I didn't sleep well last night and kept waking up. I finally got up around 8h30 and began a slow breakfast of strong coffee and the usual granola, tamari almonds and dried apricots. Now I'm packing up begrudgingly to leave Pacheco Camp. I could easily stay here an extra day and do another day hike like I did yesterday, using a different route. But I simply can't squeeze everything into one trip!