If you came to this column hoping to read about a gentle afternoon stroll before dinner, I suggest you turn to the puzzle page. On the other hand, if you woke up full of piss and vinegar, just wiped your mouth with your shirt sleeve after your second bowl of Wheaties, and are looking for a tiger to wrestle—I can help you. Head out to Knibb’s Knob at Uvas Canyon County Park.
The feature attraction at Uvas Canyon County Park is the waterfalls. The one mile Waterfall Loop Trail is a lovely shaded walk past a series of falls and cascades that really rock in the winter. Knibb’s Knob is as different from the Waterfall Loop as a trail can be.
Uvas Canyon County Park is tucked immediately beneath the ridge that is the main divide in the Santa Cruz range. Rainfall on the far side takes the short route to Monterey Bay while on the park side rainfall travels the long route via Uvas Creek and the Pajaro River. Knibb’s Knob is a take-no-prisoners 1,800-foot vertical ascent to the ridge top, but like so many demanding hikes, the reward is worth the tears.
I arrived at Uvas Canyon County Park early on a foggy morning. It was a peaceful and quiet in the canyon’s shaded forest. It may be brown and dry everywhere else, but Swanson Creek made spring-like water music as it splashed its way down to a just-born Uvas Creek—what a refreshing tonic to a parched soul.
Knibb’s Knob is an old road bed that disregards a hiker’s preference for a gentle grade. In fact, portions of the trail are silly-steep. But despite that, it was an enjoyable walk. The trail bobs back and forth over the crest of a spur ridge leading to the summit above. On the north side, I walked through a forest of madrones, oaks and bay trees with occasional knobcone pines and Douglas firs, while south side portions of the trail pop into a bright thicket of chaparral.
The bottom portion of the trail switched back and forth through the trees. A mile out, I popped into the open, the view widened, and the receding fog took center stage. Brightly lit hilltops rose above a sea of fog that nestled in a succession of mountain creases south toward Mount Madonna. Immediately beneath me, melting fingers of fog danced in the sprawling wooded amphitheater. It was an ethereal display as only fog can do.
Fleece top long ago stuffed in my fanny pack, T-shirt getting wetter and still lots of “up” ahead, but finally, I reached a gate and stepped onto Summit Road that rolls along the ridge top. Loma Prieta—the tallest peak in the Santa Cruz Mountains—was a tempting walk away. Across the Santa Clara Valley, poking above the sea of fog, Mount Hamilton and Mission Peak shined bright in the morning sun.
Knibb’s Knob. It hurts, but the view is fantastic. And you will know you are alive.
