That morning I woke up and learned my 3-liter bladder had a new hole and soaked my entire backpack. That bladder was supposed to hold the water I needed for my ~12 mile day! I downsized to my "hiney" pack with some smaller water bottles and picked up some other rations at the nearby safeway on my way out. I was set for my adventure and headed an hour south of Monterey on the Pacific Coast Highway to my first destination, Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, which would be the southern-most point of my trip.
I stopped for one dawn picture along the way at a pull-off facing the Point Sur Lightstation.
Once I rolled in to the park I tried to fill out my self-serve pay station slip but the pen and everything surrounding me was covered in morning dew. I wondered how important it was that they had my information because all they really want is the money, right? I stuck the money in the blank envelope and took my stub.
The first hike started at a small creek among some big ol' redwoods, the first I had ever seen, and quickly climbed up along the narrow valleys they sprawled. I'm not sure what lasting anthropogenic influences are taking place but it's pretty wild to see how specific these niche habitats are, you have shaded redwood groves in the riparian valleys and immediately after crossing a ridge you're in an oak/pine motte with a lot more sun penetrating the canopy. The temperatures change a lot too. It seems like a bunch of micro climates butting up next to each other. Just very peculiar. This hike was the Ewoldson trail, 4.4 miles.
There is something truly satisfying about working hard to see something beautiful and McWay Falls wasn't one of those cases. I don't get the same joy when I take photos of super accessible places and end up with images that are dime a dozen. I like to explore, wander, and find unique experiences. Those are the types of things I want to share with everyone. This hike was .8 miles round trip.
The hike started with an immediate creek crossing and no bridges provided this time. I had to take off my shoes to wade across. I took the River Trail upstream towards Hidden Trail that would connect me to the wide open Ridge Trail for a straight shot to the highest point of the loop. When I made it to the Hidden Trail fork I caught up to a small group standing in front of the trail sign. I asked if that was Hidden Trail and they said yes, because the trail marker was "hidden" behind them... now that's my kind of humor! I explored a little spur off the ridge trail and the group ended up getting ahead of me again. When I passed them a second time they said they were so fast that they didn't see me, but I replied, "No, I was just hidden on the hidden trail." Ha, outwitted! Small victories, y'all.. small victories.
One of my favorite parts of this section was an awesome stand of oak trees that looked straight out of a Dr. Suess book. These oaks led to an serene Redwood stand with gentle streaks of sun breaking through. Right before I emerged from this wooded area a small bird pooped on my shoulder. I grabbed a plant's leaf to scrape it off, and what serendipitous moment, the leaf smelled AMAZING! It was a sort of fruity-soapy smell that I couldn't get enough of. It turned out to be California Bay Laurel and it wouldn't be my last moment with that plant on this trip.
My GPS watch sort of conveniently stopped its route near the half way point so I'll just go with it.. The first section was 4.15 miles including my side quest.
Along the trail I spotted a hole in a thick blanket of trees that lead to a barren understory surrounded by its canopy dome. This was a "pygmy" redwood forest (as described by local naturalist Steve Harper). I guess they're old trees stunted by the constant winds. They're only salvation is from each other like a huddle of penguins in the antarctic. It was a nice unexpected little find.
There were tons of termite clusters along the trails and I kept finding myself gazing at the shimmer of their wings as the wind would sweep through and move their reflections in waves.
After eyeing a nice vantage point I sat down in the blasting wind to eat my lunch, a sandwich from Safeway. It was delicious AND photo worthy.
At some point around the middle of this section I started to get a bit loopy/goofy. I was singing to myself some weird improve jazz instrumentals and performing the whole gamut of instruments with my voice. I think part of it had to do with being alone for so long. Those long stretches of isolation without any or much contact with others. I love it though.
As I booked it through the rest of the trail I came towards the end of the cove where I watched a handful of surfers, there were people on the beach photographing them but I didn't talk to them. I was probably only capable of speaking my native jazz voice by that point. On the way back to the trailhead I started to notice the big white peak (HINT: I'M FORESHADOWING) to the East and enjoyed a few tastes of fall colors. I finished the hike after passing through the stream one last time. This section of the hike was 4.6 Miles.
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This booty-buster was no joke, appropriately nicknamed the "Golden Staircase", it's an unrelenting two miles straight up to reach the ridge with an unsuspecting view that took the rest of my breathe away. The staircase continued along the ridge for at least a couple more miles to a nice peak but everything I had hoped for was already right in front of me. This entire ridge is a front row view of Pico Blanco, a very prominent marble peak, supposedly the largest single limestone deposit in the state, and pillar of local lore. I was in awe of both the stunning marble peak and the redwoods that framed my view.
I collected some acorns from a gnarly oak tree and took some more sniffs of that great California Bay Laurel. I was so happy on that ridge. The miles were quickly catching up to me as I made it back down the trail. I was taking one step at a time but I felt so accomplished and satisfied from my amazing journey. The 4.4 miles from this East Molera hike lead me to over 18 miles of hiking in one day. It was exceptional.
Lastly, after everyone was gone, a cyclist rolled up! I asked him where he was heading, and he mentioned one of the State Parks I had driven through. It wasn't a short ride, there are no shoulders, and now it was dark... yikes! This gentleman's name was Noel and had rolled in from Santa Cruz on a tour to Los Angeles I believe. He asked me to take his photo with his phone but the memory was full. He humorously told me that I could take one with MY camera and I happily obliged. We exchanged emails and I wished him luck and a safe journey. I've been in touch and know for fact that he survived the journey. We both survived our journeys, and I'll never forget mine.