As John Muir stepped off a Panama steamer in San Francisco, he
asked a man which way was the quickest out of town. When the man
asked where he wanted to go, Muir replied,
”
To any place that is wild.
”
As John Muir stepped off a Panama steamer in San Francisco, he asked a man which way was the quickest out of town. When the man asked where he wanted to go, Muir replied, “To any place that is wild.”
On April 1, 1868, John Muir began his walk to Yosemite and the Sierra Nevada Mountains where his life’s purpose would unfold and a legend would be made. He walked slowly down the Santa Clara Valley “so covered with flowers that they seemed to be painted.” Then, he turned east and crossed the Coast Range at Pacheco Pass. At the crest of the pass, he first saw his beloved Sierra Nevada Mountains and the vast sweep of the Central Valley. “Looking east from the summit of the Pacheco Pass one shining morning, a landscape was displayed that after all my wanderings still appears as the most beautiful I have ever beheld.”
That’s quite a statement from a man who ‘beheld’ some spectacular views. His beautiful words describe the immense Central Valley carpeted with yellow flowers that reached to “the mighty Sierra, miles in height, and so gloriously colored and so radiant, it seemed not clothed with light, but wholly composed of it.”
This view, John Muir’s first sight of his beloved Sierras, was from what is now Pacheco State Park atop U.S. Highway 152 between Los Banos and Gilroy. Any place receiving such a recommendation from such a man deserves a visit.
This is my third early morning visit to Pacheco State Park, and I hope it will be the first time I get out of the car. This morning, as twice before, a brutal wind, steadily whistling and roaring, rakes the parking lot and rocks my car. Porta-potty doors slam back and forth, staked oak trees bend nearly horizontal, and the dense fog limits my vision to the extent of the parking lot. On my two earlier visits, the fury never let up, and I left. This morning, a pink hue above suggests the fog and the bluster might be short-lived.
Good things come to those who wait. A half mile down the Spikes Peak Trail, the fog began to break. I stood watching the low streaking sunlight pierce the cool gray fog and suddenly reveal the oak-dotted hillsides beyond. The moody contrast at the edge of the receding fog was a beautiful sight.
For the best views, start your walk down the Spikes Peak Trail. It rolls along the highest ridge in the park offering fantastic views toward Pacheco Peak in front of you and San Luis Reservoir behind you. The heart of the park stretches out to your left toward an army of wind turbines on the ridge beyond. It is a 2 1/2-mile walk to Spikes Peak, and every step along the way shows off the classic California oak woodland.
I turned back at Spikes Peak and returned via Dinosaur Lake and the windmills – a path with little spectator value. I think a shorter and prettier route would have been to take the Canyon Loop Trail, then turn left at Salt Creek, and return past Pig Pond.
To get there, turn right at Dinosaur Point Road 20 miles east of Gilroy at the top of Pacheco Pass and follow the signs. There is a $5 day use fee to access the park’s 28 miles of trails. Twelve pigs, a gopher snake, and a gang of raucous crows were my only companions on my 6-mile loop. The crisp distant view may be shrouded now, but the scenery I saw was much like what John Muir saw 141 years ago. I like thinking about that.
—
Ron Erskine writes an outdoors column every Friday for the Dispatch. He can be reached at
ro********@ms*.com
.
