Santa Teresa Loops

With a break from the rain, our Monday hiking group was raring to go on a moderately long hike (about 6.5 miles). Steep bits interrupted our conversation from time to time. [Talk or breathe: pick one.]

Chilly temperatures meant the poppies mostly kept their petals curled up tight.

I've often gazed down at these trails when I bike up Bernal; today I cast my eyes upward for a glimpse of IBM's Research Lab.

We carefully picked our way through the muddiest sections; at one point I followed another's lead onto a short bypass. [Is this a trail or a a stream?] Trails are closed to mountain bikers and equestrians, but hikers are lighter on the land. Lucky for us!

More stormy weather ahead ...

By the Bay

Springtime on the shores of Monterey Bay.

It was, however, chilly and very windy.

There were an astonishing number of sea otters cavorting in the surf—more than I'd ever seen in a single visit, including one mom with a pup (out of range without a proper camera).

We were here for a visit to the aquarium, my first since The Before Times. The resident sea otters playfully hammed it up for spectators, and a fish with gilded fins caught my eye in the Kelp Forest tank.

After more visits than I might count, I finally got to touch a bat ray! Tucked into a cozy corner, a loner rose up when disturbed by a guitarfish and swam right within my reach. Smooth and silky!

The rarest privilege was seeing a cluster of eggs that the Giant Pacific Octopus had hung right next to the glass, for all to admire. (At the same time, a sad event—as it signals that the end of her life is drawing near.)

Even so, for me, happiness is a day by the bay.

Saturday Surprises

There is always something new to see, even on the most familiar of routes.

However many times I've biked through this neighborhood, my eyes have likely been drawn to the same sights. Or focused on stop signs, potholes, and intersections. Or lost in thought. [Or all of the above.]

At the far end of my route today, I began to notice ... something. All the houses were painted in varying shades of beige. House after house, for blocks. Only one or two rebels dared to stray from the drab palette.

With that observation in mind, something unusual caught my eye a few miles away, on the return lap. Something that didn't blend in. Tucked behind a mass of trees and shrubs was a (very) pink house. And not just any pink house: A geodesic dome (gray roof, pink walls).

We've had some challenging weather, keeping me off the bike for weeks. [I'll admit it, I'm a fair weather cyclist.] There is also something to be said for not being within reach of falling tree branches (not to mention ... entire trees).

Another giant, squeezed between curb and sidewalk, felled by the fierce winds that knocked out power to tens of thousands of us. [For 32 hours, in my case.]

A bike ride is a reliable mood booster, even when the skies are gray and the route modest (27 miles).

Snatch Some Sunshine

Some of the Monday hiking crew had already made their Pix in the Parks pilgrimmage to this site, and it held no appeal for my companion last Friday. Could I squeeze in a quick visit after this morning's showers? The forecast for the next week or so is ... [wait for it]: Rain.

This is not the bench you're looking for.

Although a longer hike would be possible, I had time for the recommended 2-mile loop (easy, save for the mud). How many times have I biked past the Rancho San Vicente area of Calero without so much as a glance? I need not have worried about whether I'd find a parking space; apart from two guys wrapping up their trail work for the day (and lots of startled ground squirrels), the acreage was mine, all mine.

The ridgetop to the east is still dusted with snow, and more is promised. It's not uncommon to see white summits once or twice each winter; it is uncommon for the snow to stick around for weeks.

We get to enjoy this land because it was purchased to save it from being developed. The nearby mansions are a vivid reminder of what might have been (artfully framed out of my photos).

With most of the hike traversing rolling green meadows, I was surprised to round a bend into a rocky landscape. There is history here, adjoining the quicksilver mines at New Almaden.

Now it's just a place that happy hikers can share on a whim with the local flora and fauna.

As I returned to the start, the afternoon sun graciously illuminated the blades of the Aermotor across the road. [Which, of course, I could not resist.]

Higher Up

The trail continues ... over there.

I was lured out for a Friday afternoon hike of uncertain length, mostly in the Rancho Cañada Del Oro Open Space Preserve. [Nearly 8 miles, with more than 1,200 feet of elevation gain, in all.]

We've been having some unusual weather, of late. Poppies in the foreground, snow-dusted ridge in the distance. [In the Bay Area?!]

Here's a closer look, which I captured a week ago. Snowfall at the top of Mt. Hamilton reportedly measured two feet.

When I paused to consider whether this vista was photo-worthy, I hadn't yet noticed the 22 degree halo. [It sealed the deal.]

It often seemed that our next vantage point was impossibly far ahead, but we kept trudging forward. Looking back, the ground we'd already traversed also seemed so far away. How fortunate we are to have these meadows and hills preserved, for all to enjoy.

Not to worry about the mud caked on our boots; my hiking companion helpfully reminded me that crossing the stream (again) would take care of that.

And so it did. [Stayed safe and dry, both times. Whew.]