It has been ages since I've posted anything on this site but this weekend I ventured out and had the urge to remedy that. This weekend I spend Sunday night at Point Reyes by myself.
The better I get at doing this thing called "life," the more I've come to learn about myself, specifically how much I both need and enjoy being alone to recharge. The dishes were piling up in the sink as was my school work and I felt I needed to get away from the distractions of city life to tackle at least one of these building tasks (it wasn't dishes).
Late Friday night, I jumped online to the wonderfully-named national park reservation site, www.reserveamerica.com, and snagged a place in Point Reyes for Sunday. Most weekend slots I discovered have been booked between now and October with only a few random weekdays and Sundays scattered throughout. I don't have to be at school until 5p on Mondays, so I decided to skip town for 24 hours and do some work in the woods.
I rolled out of my apt around 11:30a to find a perfectly warm and cloudless Sunday morning and headed north on the 101 for a little bit, blasting some throwback jams on Q102.1 with the windows down. No Diggity anyone? How 'bout some H to the Izzo. Made it through San Anselmo and Fairfax then out into the golden hills farther west and finally into Point Reyes.
I collected my camping registration form at the Visitor Center, donned my pack, and headed south on the Bear Valley trail into the California jungle. I say jungle because I kept expecting to see a pack of little raptors scamper amongst the trees or a triceratops crash through some ferns and cross my path. It looked a lot like Jurassic Park.
Late Friday night, I jumped online to the wonderfully-named national park reservation site, www.reserveamerica.com, and snagged a place in Point Reyes for Sunday. Most weekend slots I discovered have been booked between now and October with only a few random weekdays and Sundays scattered throughout. I don't have to be at school until 5p on Mondays, so I decided to skip town for 24 hours and do some work in the woods.
I rolled out of my apt around 11:30a to find a perfectly warm and cloudless Sunday morning and headed north on the 101 for a little bit, blasting some throwback jams on Q102.1 with the windows down. No Diggity anyone? How 'bout some H to the Izzo. Made it through San Anselmo and Fairfax then out into the golden hills farther west and finally into Point Reyes.
I collected my camping registration form at the Visitor Center, donned my pack, and headed south on the Bear Valley trail into the California jungle. I say jungle because I kept expecting to see a pack of little raptors scamper amongst the trees or a triceratops crash through some ferns and cross my path. It looked a lot like Jurassic Park.
Five miles and a few deer paths later, I reached Glen Camp and sound my spot #7. I had no idea what to expect when I booked it online, but it turned out to be perfect. I was tucked way up into a hillside in a tiny clearing of trees. Very quiet and shady with a "view" looking down at the middle of the camping area and the restrooms. After making camp, which was really just my tent, I hiked it out to the Coast Trail that runs along the bluffs overlooking the Pacific.
There was some really varied vegetation between my campsite and the water... deciduous forrest gave way to grassland gave way to pine forrest gave way to rocky and shrubby patches ultimately gave way to bare rock. All this within a few miles. Once on the coast I saw some islands about 20 miles off shore. Who knew! From San Fran, you can never see that far out due to the fog and the ever-present haze so this new-found visibility was a revelation.
I found a bluff overlooking Drake's Bay and Chimney Rock and plopped down there for the next four hours taking it all in. The gulls and pelicans drifting back and forth on the wind, the sun and the mood high up in the sky, the big waves coming in for miles and the ants that crawled around looking for whatever ants look for. I brought my notebook and brainstormed for class and even took a nap for a while.
There was some really varied vegetation between my campsite and the water... deciduous forrest gave way to grassland gave way to pine forrest gave way to rocky and shrubby patches ultimately gave way to bare rock. All this within a few miles. Once on the coast I saw some islands about 20 miles off shore. Who knew! From San Fran, you can never see that far out due to the fog and the ever-present haze so this new-found visibility was a revelation.
I found a bluff overlooking Drake's Bay and Chimney Rock and plopped down there for the next four hours taking it all in. The gulls and pelicans drifting back and forth on the wind, the sun and the mood high up in the sky, the big waves coming in for miles and the ants that crawled around looking for whatever ants look for. I brought my notebook and brainstormed for class and even took a nap for a while.
Eventually it started cooling off as the sun sank lower in the sky so I put on my windbreaker and headed farther down the trail to warm up. I wanted to stay for the sunset but the brisk wind was making it tough to find the will power to stay. I toughed it out though and got some good pictures as a reward for my persistence. I brought a little flashlight too, which was a very smart thing to do because once the sun went down, it didn't stay light for very long and I still had a couple miles of hiking back to camp. It was black in many places along the trail back, especially among the thick pines that blocked out the almost-full moon. I saw a cute little fox along the way but that was it.
Most everyone else at Glen Camp was settling in for the night by the time I got back. It was maybe 9:30p and most everything was quiet. I still had to make dinner and gingerly boiled water for my freeze-dried shepherds pie stew in a pouch as silently as I could. While it cooked, I simply lay on my back and watched the stars twinkle above for a while, since they were the only things visible anymore. I made a wish on a shooting star and caught the brightest Big Dipper I'd ever seen "on film" too.
Most everyone else at Glen Camp was settling in for the night by the time I got back. It was maybe 9:30p and most everything was quiet. I still had to make dinner and gingerly boiled water for my freeze-dried shepherds pie stew in a pouch as silently as I could. While it cooked, I simply lay on my back and watched the stars twinkle above for a while, since they were the only things visible anymore. I made a wish on a shooting star and caught the brightest Big Dipper I'd ever seen "on film" too.
By 10:30, I think I was the only one still awake and crawled into my tent for a night of fitful sleep. If you followed my bike blog at all, you'll know I don't sleep very well if I'm sticky and the hike to camp was much hotter than I expected, causing me to be very sweaty by the time I arrived. It also became more and more humid and the sea air cooled down and condensed on everything. Double whammy. It was quiet though and you could hear the rhythm of the surf from several miles away.
The morning came way too early no thanks to a family group of guys who were up chatting loudly and making breakfast at 6:30, playing "Monkey in the Middle" by 7a. I really wanted to tell them to shut-up, but I also didn't feel like talking to anyone, not at 6:30am. It was really annoying, and I would bet a large sum that I wasn't the only one irritated by them. But since it wasn't possible to sleep anymore, I got up, packed up my stuff and got out of there just before 8, to make the 5 mile trek back to the car. My feet and legs were killing me most of the way back due to blisters and not being accustomed to carrying a heavy pack. But I managed and debated whether hiking the Appalachian trail or the Pacific Crest Trail sounded like lunacy or not.
I took my boots off immediately upon returning to my car and cringed at the prospect of having to push in the clutch for the hour-long drive back home. Fortunately, the pedals were forgiving and the scenic drive along the winding Pacific Coast Highway was a welcome distraction. It's simply gorgeous out here and, at least to me, it will never get old. I'm really glad I'm here.
The morning came way too early no thanks to a family group of guys who were up chatting loudly and making breakfast at 6:30, playing "Monkey in the Middle" by 7a. I really wanted to tell them to shut-up, but I also didn't feel like talking to anyone, not at 6:30am. It was really annoying, and I would bet a large sum that I wasn't the only one irritated by them. But since it wasn't possible to sleep anymore, I got up, packed up my stuff and got out of there just before 8, to make the 5 mile trek back to the car. My feet and legs were killing me most of the way back due to blisters and not being accustomed to carrying a heavy pack. But I managed and debated whether hiking the Appalachian trail or the Pacific Crest Trail sounded like lunacy or not.
I took my boots off immediately upon returning to my car and cringed at the prospect of having to push in the clutch for the hour-long drive back home. Fortunately, the pedals were forgiving and the scenic drive along the winding Pacific Coast Highway was a welcome distraction. It's simply gorgeous out here and, at least to me, it will never get old. I'm really glad I'm here.
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