January Jaunts

I visited familiar parks in January, sometimes exploring new (to me) trails.

There were some seasonal surprises at Picchetti Ranch, like this lovely fungus that was lit just so.

Our group's usual loop in Almaden Quicksilver afforded a view clear across the valley.

We started our loop through Santa Teresa County Park from the historic ranch (a first for me). I've often watched others hike uphill from there; it's unrelentingly steep for most of the first mile.

It was starkly clear where the edge of suburbia meets the untamed hills.

For our last adventure of the month, we hiked a near figure-eight in Calero County Park.

We passed the Calero Bat Inn (but saw no bats, who were presumably asleep).

It was another picture-perfect day, and we pretty much had the trails to ourselves.

We passed a stone fixture, apparently spring-fed, for thirsty four-legged creatures. (Horses are permitted on these trails).

I'd harbored some doubts about how I'd fare today (longest hike to date, six miles); whenever others paused, I would keep going. Otherwise, I knew I would fall behind.

Good strategy.

Food Rescue

It was time. Time to settle on some way to give back, meaningfully, to the community. It had been a long time since I contributed a significant amount of my free time (50-100 hours per year) as a volunteer.

The catch is, most organizations want people who will commit to a regular schedule. I get it: they need to know that their work will get done. But having spent nearly all of my life tethered to a daily schedule (years of school and many more years of work), I resisted signing up for that. Last year, I volunteered opportunistically. [It wasn't enough.]

I thought about Second Harvest. Having volunteered there many years ago (one time?), and subsequently supported them, I pulled up their calendar of volunteer shifts. [Whoa!] Plenty of opportunities. I picked one.

The scale of the operation was mind-boggling. As a new volunteer, the orientation was a bit overwhelming. Working in a section of a huge warehouse, we would be doing “food rescue.” Checking dates on perishables, discarding spoiled produce, and sorting everything: cans and jars go here, snacks go there, baked goods go here, healthy beverages go there ... on and on. Spoiled produce would be collected to feed farm animals. At the end of our shift, we swept the floors and sanitized our carts and work surfaces.

Second Harvest picks up the food (and other staples, like laundry detergent and paper goods) from retail stores and other sources, and supplies it to local organizations (e.g., community food banks) that distribute it to the people who need it.

I left thoroughly impressed. The work was well-organized. My fellow volunteers were eager and diligent workers. Our impact was huge: sorting through and processing pallets of food that would help hundreds of households. Products that, until a few years ago, would have simply been dumped in landfills.

When I got home, I signed up for my next shift. I can do this.

Looking Back at 2024

Despite some waning enthusiasm for cycling, I managed to pedal more than 2,930 miles and climb some 115,000 feet along the way. More rides (99), more distance, and more elevation gain than I completed in either of the past two years. And I happily reconnected with some of my favorite places to ride.

My annual fundraising adventure involved cycling from Healdsburg to Santa Cruz over the course of three days.

I visited Davis for the first time (to bike, what else?!) and boarded a plane for the first time since The Before Times.

I fit in 58 hikes, mostly with friends, walking more than 262 miles in places new and not, and did my share of citizen science as a member of the iNaturalist community.

I donated 22 hours of my time as a volunteer for various causes. [I can do better.]

A new year starts ... tomorrow.

Ho Ho Ho

Continuing our tradition of a Christmas Day hike, a friend and I headed for some unfamiliar terrain.

I thought the area would be mostly exposed and thus relatively dry. [Wrong on both counts.]

I'm no longer surprised that we're not the only holiday hikers. Though sadly, two boys were tearing up the slick trails on their shiny new electric bikes. [Sigh.]

I was prepared with a route when my friend suggested that we explore the Heintz Open Space Preserve; I'd mapped out a loop some time ago, but it was too short to be interesting for my regular hiking pals. There is scant information online about this preserve (and the adjoining Santa Rosa Open Space Preserve). Trail markers were nearly non-existent; without GPS, we would have been confused (at best) and likely lost.

There is a curious history to this place, part of a former estate given to the town of Los Gatos. An interpretive sign told the story of the property's miniature railroad before we passed the filled-in tunnel entrance.

Past the loop shown as the end of the Vista Trail, we explored a distinct trail that doesn't appear on maps of the area. Not knowing where that would lead, we turned back after a short distance.

We covered a little over three (muddy) miles for my last planned hike of the year, grateful for my hiking poles and for the generous gift of this land.

Infinite Wonders

Couldn't pass up a chance to join docents leading a hike in a closed section of the Sierra Azul Preserve. Although I've joined other hikes in this area, today we would follow an extended (figure-eight) route.

The meadow was already sprouting green after a recent controlled burn, and a fire break that had been plowed along one edge offered a new vantage point.

Thanks to trail-clearing work, we were able to enjoy a path above a steep canyon. Rocks had since tumbled down, in places; keeping this trail open will likely be an ongoing challenge.

The toyon's red berries provide a festive splash of color this time of year.

And just as I was thinking that there is little to discover as winter approaches, a lovely layered fungus set me straight.

We were happy to be hiking at an elevation high enough to rise above the winter smog in the valley. The clouds had shifted by the time we completed our five-mile route, leaving the pond to mirror blue sky rather than gray.

No better way to spend the day!

Great, Not Snowy

When I spied some birds hunting in the shallows, of course I had to stop.

The light reflected off the glistening mud flats might look like snow, but of course it's not. Nor was the egret a snowy (Great, instead).

Before taking wing and perching in a tree on the opposite shore, a great blue heron seemed more focused on preening than hunting.

The day started out cloudy and chilly; I was glad I'd donned a proper cold-weather jacket at the last minute, this morning. But by the time we stopped for lunch, the skies had cleared and we were eager to peel off our outer layers. My thermal capris had become too warm. I'd already swapped my winter-weight gloves for lighter long-fingered gloves; I should have brought a fingerless pair, too.

Such are the challenges of late season cycling in the Bay Area. [Ha.]

A good day to ride some 32 miles, with a touch (~900 feet) of climbing.

Trottin'

“You could walk.” On Tuesday, volunteering to support advance packet pick-up for this year's Turkey Trot, those words came back to me.

A friend had suggested that I join her, but we would quickly be separated as ... I am not a runner. Not to mention the logistics of getting to downtown San Jose with 20,000+ other participants. Early. On Thanksgiving morning.

When I pointed a “virtual” participant to the right table, I remembered that was an option. During a lull on my shift, I signed up.

At home, I mapped out a suitable course—without the benefit of road closures, the Los Gatos Creek Trail would do nicely (to avoid traffic signals). The app recommended by the event organizers worked surprisingly well, announcing my split times at each one-mile mark. I was also glad that I'd decided to carry a second device, as a backup; when I began to worry that the app had stopped running before I'd completed my second mile, I was reassured to see that I'd covered 1.8 miles.

I was striding at an intentional and atypical (for me) aerobic pace. It was a race, after all! I had the luxury of starting whenever I wanted, which was later in the morning when the temperature was closer to 50°F than 35°F. Thinking back to other turkey-day adventures, I was grateful not to be shivering at the top of Mt. Hamilton.

My virtual 5k wasn't a lonely outing: there were plenty of runners, cyclists, and families with kids on scooters out on the trail.

The app congratulated me when I'd crossed the virtual 5k finish line; I had planned well to land in a scenic spot for a photograph. With visions of turkey, gravy, veggies, and cranberries dancing in my head, I slowed to a leisurely pace as I looped back to my starting point (for a total distance approaching five miles). Along the way, I collected three stray plastic bags and one flattened beer can.

Do what you can.