Morse Gulch

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Two weeks without rain, and the Great Morse Gulch Flood has receded. I still needed to change out of my hiking shoes due to shallow pools and mud near the trailhead. I wore short pants and the same kind of footwear I like to wear when I'm photographing on the reefs at low tide. They're like rubber moccasins, and they were fine for the whole trail.

I didn't do any photography until I reached the falls, which are maybe a half-mile up the trail, but I did a little shooting on the way back. The trail is maintained basically by people hiking on it, and I saw one set each of relatively fresh human and dog tracks. Although I've only been up there once before, I still remembered it -- walking through pine duff, coming out into a small meadow, treading carefully along a stretch not much wider than my feet. Someone had put up rope in a few places, meaning to be helpful.

Most of the fungi was spooged out, but it was nice to find this late-season cup fungus still attached to its host branch.

The creek runs down that ravine in the middle distance. On the opposite hillside are numerous buckeyes. All that brown on the ground is dried-up sword fern.

I have some canyon gooseberry trying to grow in my very shaded little yard, but it has yet to unfurl its leaves or sprout any flowers.

More gooseberry flowers.

Close-up of the white maids (or milk maids, as some people call them).

After leaving Morse Gulch I went up the mountain and hiked down to Upper Cataract Falls which was already kind of disappointingly tame after two weeks with no rain.

I've been watching for wildlife in vain for so long, I couldn't believe it when I spotted my first coyote in probably a year. It used to be a fairly common thing to see coyotes, and not unheard of to see the occasional bobcat or gray fox, but the last few years have been tough for sightings, at least for me.

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Mountain Home Loop

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After grabbing the memory card from the camera trap farther up the mountain, we drove back down to hike a loop I've been wanting to do for a while.

Starting at the parking lot across the street from Mountain Home Inn, the loop would take us down Alice Eastwood Road (we were passed twice by motor vehicles heading to and from the campground) to Muir Woods, up the Bootjack Trail to Van Wyck Meadow, then back via the Troop 80 Trail. In this shot of Pam with the giant redwood tree, we're at a spur trail that links the Camp Eastwood Trail to the Bootjack without descending into Muir Woods at all.

We didn't use the spur. We wanted to see Muir Woods. It was only around 9 a.m., so it wasn't yet crowded down there. 

It was pretty down in Muir Woods, thanks in part to all the green of the new elk clover (Aralia californica) leafing out. The creek was still running and birds were singing, so the soundscape was nice too.

I was a little surprised to run into traffic way back beyond the Muir Woods boundary. This chatty group started hiking again as soon as we reached them. Unfortunately, we couldn't overtake them, so for some peace and quiet we stopped to rest and let them get well ahead of us, only to catch up to them and repeat the dance a couple more times before parting ways at Van Wyck Meadow.

I had never hiked the Bootjack Trail up out of Muir Woods before. It's gorgeous. Here, the newly minted canyon maple leaves (Acer macrophyllum) were the stars of the show.

We'll have to remember to bring a snack next time. This huge boulder next to the creek would have made an excellent picnic spot.

I figure this is the bridge whose reconstruction kept the trail closed for so long (after those trees in the ravine below smashed the last one). It's the most substantial bridge I've ever seen on the mountain, complete with steel girders.

The day started out cool, especially higher on the mountain where the north-facing exposure was quite windy. There was hardly any wind at all on the south side of the mountain, though, and none once we were down in the woods. The day became quite warm, and the trail was steep, so it was nice to find this accessible pool for a cool splash.

Parts of the trail were steep enough to require steps, and some of the steps had been made with old trail signs.

Here's a newer trail sign at Van Wyck Meadow ("Pop. 3 Steller's Jays"). According to my old (out of print) Olmsted & Bros. map, Van Wyck Meadow was a "[p]opular picnicking area in the 20's and 30's. Formerly called Lower Rattlesnake Camp. Named for Sidney M. Van Wyck, Jr., president of the [Tamalpais Conservation Club] in 1920-21. As a lawyer, he played an active role in agitating for a state park. The big rock in the middle of the meadow was called Council Rock."

There are many possible routes to continue hiking from the meadow. I'd thought about continuing uphill to pick up and return by the Matt Davis Trail, but I'd never hiked the Troop 80 Trail before and wanted to see it.

Unfortunately, as we soon found out, the trail was part of a race course! They came like this, one or two at a time. The trail is very narrow in most places, and sometimes the drop-off is deadly steep. You would not want to be accidentally bumped into a ravine, so we were glad to be able to let runners pass in wider sections of the trail.

Here, where the Sierra Trail meets the Troop 80, we finally parted company with the racers at an aid station. This junction is about 100 feet from the Panoramic Highway, but most of the Troop 80 Trail was not quite so close to the road. In any event, there was a lot more traffic on the trail than on the road!

We didn't rush the hike, but we didn't dawdle either, as I would have if I'd brought my "real" camera, so the 5-mile loop took us just about three hours. It's a nice hike through beautiful woods and along an interesting creek, but it can be a bit "civilized," especially with summer festivities coming on. Speaking of which, the Mountain Play began its new season today.

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Yolanda-Worn Springs Loop

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It was still crazy-windy when I went to bed last night, and I'd planned to remain in bed this morning if it hadn't calmed down. Luckily, it had -- at least enough. I've been planning to return to this spot along the Yolanda Trail since I first saw it just a couple of weeks ago. It was raining then, and the ravine full of California buckeyes wasn't in bloom yet. 

I was glad to get my shot at the break of day because the wind soon came up and spoiled everything. The morning light also got to be a bit much after a while, and I made another plan to return in the winter to shoot a blazing sunset from this spot. Of course, the foreground won't look so lush in winter. 

Anyway, this was really the only image I'd hoped to get today, so I spent the rest of the morning hiking a loop I'd never done before.

The plan was to hike out the Yolanda Trail to the junction where I turned downhill to Hidden Valley on my last trip. This time I would turn uphill at the junction to take the Yolanda to a fire road called the Worn Springs Trail. I figured it wouldn't be much farther to do that than to simply turn around and go back the way I'd come. There are some interesting rock outcrops above the Yolanda Trail, and I figured Worn Springs meandered just behind them.

I figured wrong. Not only was it a good ways to Worn Springs, but Worn Springs itself went steeply uphill at the trail junction. The Worn Springs Trail was not signed, so I had to choose between a gated dirt road that went downhill or the other dirt road that went up in a preposterously steep fashion. I'd brought my map for just such an occasion and regrettably realized I was supposed to go up the steep route. I think the gated route led to someone's home, since I soon saw a pick-up truck on the other side of a wire fence.

Three mountain bikers had passed me heading downhill along the Yolanda Trail, which I found annoying since the trail is narrow and is signed as being off-limits to bikes. Still, I'm amazed anyone rides a bike way up there and can negotiate the narrow trail without mishap. As I was huffing and puffing up the steepest part of the Worn Springs Trail I noticed someone was coming up behind me. And he was running. Not only that, but I think he was probably at least five years older than me.

The route rises way above the Yolanda Trail to an elevation of about 1,100 feet, then heads steeply back down to Phoenix Lake at about 200 feet, for about a five-and-half-mile round trip. The views are great up there, but it was quite windy and a bit chilly.The little sawtooth shape on the distant horizon is the San Francisco skyline.

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Return to Rocky Ridge

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With the circumannuation just seven weeks from completion, I'm trying to make sure I don't leave anything out -- any part of the mountain, that is. Probably not possible. My biggest disappointment has been going all year without a good bobcat encounter. There's still time to get lucky, but the most likely time of year for sightings has passed.

Today I enjoyed a beautiful spring hike, heading up the Rocky Ridge fire road and turning off at the Stocking Trail to pick up the Kent Trail down to Alpine Lake and closing the loop back where I'd parked at Bon Tempe Lake.

The Douglas iris were still going pretty strong, so I thought I'd create a theme for the day of showing the iris in various beautiful settings, but these first two settings were unmatched the rest of the way.

Hiking up Rocky Ridge, my thoughts kept turning to Magdalena Glinkowski, the young woman who was reported missing a week after she'd come up for a hike. Since so much time had passed before anyone started looking for her, it seemed certain she was either nowhere near the mountain, or was beyond help. According to the Marin IJ, a body was found this morning south of the Bootjack parking area where Magdalena's car had been found, and where she'd been photographed by security cameras.

A trail runner reported having seen Magdalena the day she disappeared, giving searchers a place to focus on. The authorities say there's no obvious sign of foul play. Hopefully they'll be able to figure out what happened. To die in such a beautiful place, a place whose dangers seem so benign -- a touch of poison oak or stinging nettle, or maybe a tick bite. Though the trails are many, it's hardly conceivable that someone could become so lost that they'd never again be found. 

But it sounds like she was found close to where she started. So sad. My prayers go out to Magdalena and her family.

This is Hidden Lake, along the Stocking Trail.

I couldn't resist photographing this gorgeous Amanita right along the Kent Trail. A couple of botanizers passed me here as they were heading uphill and the woman told me I should send the picture to the BioBlitz folks at iNaturalist. I actually knew what she was talking about.

Once upon a time I had more interest in collecting species photos, like this Redwood Sideband Snail, Monadenia infumata. I put a lot of energy into getting IDs and uploading pictures to Calphotos. But somewhere along the way I lost interest in the enterprise. You never know about these things. The interest could return.

Or I could get sucked into using a 4x5 view camera exclusively and being much more selective about the subjects I photograph. I shot 94 frames today (including frames combined for exposure blending and focus-stacking), which is not a lot, even for me, although I usually shoot less when I'm actually hiking as opposed to just poking around somewhere. But 4x5 shooters sometimes come back from an outing having shot nothing at all. The whole process is so different from 35mm work.

For a project like the circumannuation, a project where exploring the biodiversity of a place is a large part of the work, the relative ease of 35mm is just right.

I was surprisingly tired by the time I reached Alpine Lake. Tough week, I guess. I'd planned to just enjoy the hike back to the Jeep without stopping to set up the camera again, but I couldn't resist when I spotted this red waxy cap mushroom growing at the base of a hollowed-out redwood trunk. In a normal, wet winter, we'd have seen these guys by the dozen already, but this might be the first and only one I've seen this season. People on the trails around Mt. Tam have often approached me when I'm photographing mushrooms. "I saw this bright red mushroom. Do you know what it was?"

Although blue sky was breaking out farther inland, heavy fog was still blowing thick and cold up on Bolinas Ridge. I was going to drive home that way to check up on the trail camera, but I was too tired to make the hike so I headed back the way I came, through Fairfax, San Anselmo, Kentfield and so on. Hopefully the trail camera will keep. I'm still running the same set of batteries I started with back in September.

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Matt Davis-Dipsea-Steep Ravine Loop

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I've been wanting to get around to this ever since a friend at work told me this is her favorite hike. I'd never hiked it before today, and in fact had never hiked down from Bolinas Ridge to Stinson Beach. It seemed insane, really -- too far and too steep. But I left the Jeep near Pantoll Campground at 7:30 in the morning and was back by 11:50 even though I stopped for a few photo ops. It didn't take much longer than a hike to High Marsh. 

If I was going to do this hike, I figured I'd better get to it while there was still some water running in the canyons. I found this little cascade not too far down the trail. While I worked I was passed by the first of several groups of trail runners I'd encounter.

After about a mile of fairly dark forest, the trail emerges into the open along Bolinas Ridge. I doubt it will get more beautiful than this until maybe next year. Everything is green and fresh, the grass is still short enough that the California poppies and other wildflowers aren't overpowered, and the ugly, spiky bull thistle that will soon cover much of the hillsides is only just getting started. It had been a chilly 44 degrees in the forest when I started, but it warmed up to 50 as soon as I reached the sunshine.

I recently tried jogging again but quit before a year was out. My route took me along the Embarcadero in San Francisco, out past Pac Bell Park to Mission Bay and back. It wasn't a bad route, but it was all on concrete and surrounded by motor vehicle traffic. I'll bet I could have lasted longer if my route had been more like this.

Eventually, the Matt Davis Trail makes good on its promise to get you on your way down to Stinson Beach. It leaves the open ridge and switchbacks like crazy down the hill, passing through some interesting parts of the mountain. I enjoyed the park-like feel of this area where the Douglas firs were spread out, with some gnarled old grandfather firs mixed in.

Forget-Me-Not.

In another spot along the steep trail down, the vista opened up across a stream canyon. I just love the way the woods look here. If I ever get a lightweight large-format camera, I'll make a point of returning to this spot to photograph these woods in a way to capture the incredible detail.

There were several nice patches of Slim Solomon along the trail.

I finally reached Table Rock, which was being guarded by a superb California buckeye that was freshly leafed out. I know some hikers pass right by this spot, unaware of the nearby vista point.

Once you duck through the vegetation and come out the other side, you're taking in the views from Table Rock. This is the top of the huge rock formation that's cut by the stream canyon. Off to the right is a vertiginous drop-off to the stream far below.

I found this nice little waterfall just below the vista point. I hadn't run into anyone on the way down the trail until I reached Table Rock. I think a lot of people hike up from Stinson Beach, but a couple of ladies who'd done so were unaware of Table Rock's existence. I hiked the rest of the way down to the small town of Stinson Beach and easily found my way onto the Dipsea Trail after a very short walk along the Shoreline Highway. The trail crossed the bottom of Panoramic Highway and rose through an open area of coyote brush chaparral with nice views back along the coast and up the steep flanks of Mt. Tam.

As I hiked up the Dipsea Trail I thought about the incredible runners who race from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach every year. I knew a guy at work who runs it, and when he gets to Stinson Beach, he often turns around and runs back to Mill Valley -- a Double Dipsea. 

In any event, that little stretch of the Dipsea Trail was okay, but it wasn't until I reached Steep Ravine that I fully understood why this loop was someone's favorite route. You enter the redwood forest with the sweet little creek and all the fresh wildflowers, from fairy bells to Clintonia to redwood violets, plus five-finger ferns, coast elderberry, you name it. It's like Shangri-La.

The name "Steep Ravine" is not a misnomer, but I don't believe it's as steep as the steepest parts of the Matt Davis Trail. My knees were glad to finally be heading uphill after that long descent.

Yesterday's rain probably didn't add much to the flow of Mt. Tam's creeks, but there's still enough water to make for some pretty falls.

There'd been a sign at the bottom of the trail warning of this ladder eight-tenths of a mile farther up. This family was just coming down from Pantoll. The little girl was completely fearless, but she wasn't rushing anything either, as you can tell by this eight-second exposure.

P.S. A nice alternative would be to hike the Matt Davis to Stinson Beach, do some exploring in town and at the beach, have a picnic or get some late lunch at a local eatery, then take the $2 shuttle back up to Pantoll.

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