Today’s objectives were to climb Mt. Wittenburg, highest point on Point Reyes, and see the Arch Rock, whose imaginative name derives from the fact that it’s a rock just off the coast that looks a little like an arch. This was my longest, and last, hike of this vacation. Not particularly the best, but it was the most physically challenging.
As true of the last few days, this day started out fogged in, but it lifted around 9 or so and turned into another incredibly beautiful clear day. I’ve really lucked out on the weather; several Bay Area visits at different times of the year have shown that September and January are just about the best times to visit from a weather standpoint. Otherwise, you’re subject to high chances of unrelenting clammy, overcast weather. In other words, gloomy weather. Seattle is the same way; July through September are ok; the rest of the year can make you suicidal. This probably accounts for all the coffee and heroin consumption up there.
This hike starts at the main park visitor’s center, located in a really beautiful meadow and home to an incredible concentration of bees, gnats, and swarming flies. They really make a mockery of the picnic tables near the center, which is quite a shame because otherwise it would be a perfect area to picnic. If that’s a verb. So after “applying” (sunscreen), I headed out into the wilderness once again. Terry made what turned out to be an astute recommendation, to take the trail backwards from the way my hotel and at least one guidebook recommended. This trail has some very steep hill sections. Terry’s way took me uphill for about the first hour, and mostly downhill for the rest. Had I gone the other way, I’d have started out going relatively flat for the first two or three hours, but uphill the rest of the way until the end. This way I got the hard part out of the way while I was strongest and most hydrated.
As I mentioned, the first hour (about 2 miles) is an 1,800 foot gain in elevation climbing to the top of Mt. Wittenburg, the highest peak on the peninsula. Thankfully it goes through thick trees offering ample shade, because I was pouring sweat like [insert tasteless ethnic, gender, regional or college joke here]. It was pretty tough, despite the occasional cooling breezes. But after about an hour I made it to a clearing just before the top. I did go to the summit, only to find that its just a little clearing surrounded by some pine trees that completely block all views from the top. How do I know it was actually the summit? Well first, you have to go through this weird hall-like section, comprised of pine branch cover so thick it blocks out a lot of light. It made for a sort of walking through the hallway of the Wizard’s castle to see the Wizard of Oz-type effect. The other is that there were two US Geological Survey markers in the clearing, denoting an important survey mark. The only other place I can remember seeing these is in Lafayette Square in New Orleans, across the street from the federal courts building in one of the very oldest parts of the city. They should just clear all those trees out of there because they’re blocking an incredible view of Drake’s Bay. Uh, just kidding, tree huggers. Maybe we could relocate them somewhere else that doesn’t have enough trees. A tree relocation program. Like to Phoenix. So right there, all that effort to get to the top seemed a little wasted except as exercise.
From there, the trail joins the Sky Trail, which runs diagonally through the heart of the peninsula. I took it for some ways until it reaches a trail leading to the coast (the Woodland Valley trail). The Sky Trail ran through a number of clearings that finally did provide those great sea views I was hoping for. It also led through some impressive woods, including a substantial number of redwoods. The Woodland Valley trail ran though thicker and more primitive woods, as one would imagine, and the flies began appearing (and buzzing me) in greater numbers. I think the lack of much breeze let the flies have their way all day long. The Woodland Valley trail finally made it out of the woods (“step into the sun, step into the light”) revealing itself on one of those fantastic Marin County headlands sloping down to the ocean bluffs. In this case, the trail began a steep descent through some rocky ledges, and it was exactly at that point that my right ankle, in which I tore some tendons last summer, started acting up. I felt a knife-like pain shooting through the ankle and suddenly couldn’t put any weight on it. I hadn’t misstepped or anything obvious like that. It just got tired of walking I guess. After stretching it out and trying different ways of walking, it finally felt normal again when the trail leveled out a bit. As I was making the steep descent, limping along, I saw a black Elk scramble across the trail from above, and snapped a quick photo.
I then made it to the coast trail, which, as you can guess, goes along the coast. I was hoping it would be close enough to the water to pick up a strong breeze like yesterday, but no such luck. The section I was hiking, which led south along the coast, was just far enough inland that no breeze was had. Instead, I found myself, shoulder deep in more brush like yesterday. Above however were more headlands. A good number of redwoods were there, but were dead from what looked like fires. I’m not sure what spared the remainder of the forest, and the fire damage seemed limited to the lower elevations. It was a 3.5 mile hike from where I hit the Coast Trail to Arch Rock. I tried to eat lunch under the cooling shade of an enormous and old eucalyptus tree, but the flies were so bad I just had to move on. This trail was basically level, so I busted it as fast as I could to get to Arch Rock, where I assumed there’d be enough breeze to keep the flies away for me to eat. I made it in about a hour and a half, which is pretty quick even for me. And sure enough, the ledge jutting out into the ocean that gives you the view of Arch Rock did have a good deal of winds, thereby making it an ok lunch spot. Instead of flies, I had a single seagull perch himself just out of reach the entire time. He never tried to swoop in and take any food, but I’m sure he was waiting for me to stop watching. Arch Rock itself was nice, though not necessarily awe-inspiring, as depicted above. It was well worth the effort to reach it, however. While there, perched high above the Pacific, I noticed the water was unusually still and green. The rare calm day accounted for the lack of breeze (and the flies no doubt).
OK, so this was about four and a half hours in, and I needed to take another three mile segment to get back to the visitor’s center and my car. This was the Bear Valley Trail, which runs through what they call a “canyon.” Its really just some elevated rock that runs up to Bear Creek. The rock walls are lined with ferns and redwoods, giving it a sort of mini-Fern Canyon feel from up in Redwoods National Park. But here the trees cover the trail almost entirely, and the creek and the “canyon” walls are much smaller. Nonetheless, its relatively flat and made for the nicest part of the hike until, once again, my ankle started acting up. I brought a brace with me for just such an event, and had been taking it with me on each hike until today, when I forgot it. Some luck. The ankle pain hit right at the crest of a hill, and after I started walking downhill again it suddenly subsided. I took this as a sign that I’ve pushed my body too much these last few days, and resolved right there that tomorrow I’d take it easy.
I did finally make it back to the car, for a six and one-half hour hike of about 13 miles. Once getting back to the hotel, I put ice on my ankle, took a little nap, then wen to the Point Reyes Station House Café for dinner. This should have been nothing worth mentioning, but this place turned out to serve a really memorable dish of lamb osso bucco over creamy polenta. They use only organic ingredients and support local Marin County farmers, so the food itself was fresh and high quality. That’s probably more important than whatever the chef does with it. Though I’m no chef, I’m a great eater, and have always thought that the key to a good meal is getting good, fresh ingredients. No sauce ever made can hide a bad piece of meat or iffy fish. The bartender also regaled us with the tale of his proposal to his fiancée, which was kind of difficult to swallow, but that’s for another day.
Next-earthquakes, diners, lighthouses, and cruising.
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