An Early Spring Hike at Henry W. Coe's Southwest Side

 

 

Date: February 3, 2022
Place: Henry W. Coe State Park, Morgan Hill, California

Coordinates: 37.099656, -121.472617

Length: 6.5 miles

Level: strenuous

 

Winter in the Bay Area is an absolutely fantastic season for hiking, especially in the East or Southeast Bay. One early February morning I met two friends of mine for a hike at Henry W. Coe State park, and unawares at the time, it would be my last hike for a time period of two months.

The main park entrance is at the Coe Ranch from which I've done most of my hikes in this park. For this hike however, I chose a trail that begins at the Coyote Creek trailhead, in the southwest side of the park. 

Our hike as captured by my GPS

It was a cold morning and I was glad I brought with me my thermal cup full of hot tea. My friends and I parked at the little pullout by the trailhead, wrapped ourselves in layers, and started up the trail. 

The crunch crunch sound of our footsteps on the fallen leaves revealed how cold it really was - the vegetation, both green and dried up was covered in frost. 

Frost

As soon as we started up the hill though, we caught up with the sun and were out of the freeze zone. It didn't take long for use to pause and remove the top layer. 

It also didn't take long for me to find the first wildflowers of this hike. Early February is time for the ephemerals and near the trail were mats and mats of shooting star flowers, still wet with dew.  

Padre's Shootingstar, Primula clevelandii 

Most of the trees on that hillside were oaks. There were at least two species of oaks that I recognized, but very likely there were more species that I didn't. Some of the deciduous oaks were completely covered by long, drooping lichen which gave the a very 'Treebeard' look. 

It was a steep uphill trail and we gained altitude quickly. Soon we had some nice view over the valley of Coyote Creek and of the ridge ahead. 

Spring starts early here, and it started super early last season. It seems like the plants knew it was the end of the rains and were already putting forth bloom. Even the larger, vine and bush plants knew it was yet another drought year. The pacific peas were blooming too.

Common Pacific Pea, Lathyrus vestitus 

It was a good stretch of a steep uphill climb. Soon we got into a good walking pace that didn't leave too much air for chatting. The air warmed up and it was no longer burning my lungs with each breath.

We kept moving between open areas and forested groves of trees, nearly all oaks with an occasional buckeye or pine. This kind of vegetation community is called an oak savannah, and whenever I see it it immediately reminds me of the East Bay, my current home.

We saw some more flowers blooming as we made our way higher up the hill. Little yellow violets dotted the grass here and there. They too are of the early spring heralds.

Douglas Violet, Viola douglasii 

 Little yellow flowers were in fashion that day. Other than the violets there were many buttercups blooming by the trail side. I find these all yellow buttercups challenging to photograph because of their shiny reflective petals and the lack of contrast within the flower. Of many buttercup photos I took that day, only a few came out reasonable.

Common Buttercup, Ranunculus californicus

 

A bit off the trail we saw little ponds, held behind a low dam built by cattle farmers. In many other parks and open spaces around California the land is leased to grazing with one of the purposes being weed control. We didn't actually see cattle on our hike that day but evidence of cattle farming were all around.

There were several of these little ponds along our trail, some were visible only from high above them. In an area that originally was devoid of naturally occurring lakes these little cattle ponds added another niche for wildlife such as frogs (and mosquitos) to thrive in.

Not only yellows bloomed on those hills. The silver bush lupines were just beginning their bloom season but their pretty purple was already adorning the green grass slopes.

Silver Bush Lupine, Lupinus albifrons 

As we continued higher up the hill my friends started looking at their watches. Both of them were due back home at school ending time to pick up their children. After a short discussion we decided that we weren't going to make it up the nearest summit. We would settle on the nearest saddle where the next  junction with a downhill trail was.

Even if not the highest point around, the view from the highest point of our hike was quite impressive. The photo really doesn't do justice to the wide expanse of the ridges from Morgan Hill over to Monterey.

View Southwest

From the high point of our hike we had a very nice view, almost all around. To the northeast I recognized the mild rising ridge that summits with Rose Peak, where I was less than a year before when I backpacked the Ohlone Wilderness Trail with two other friends.

View Northeast: Ohlone Wilderness and Rose Peak

On the north I saw Mount Hamilton, the highest peak in the Bay Area. It is easily recognizable by the domes of the Lick Observatory.

View North: Mount Hamilton

It was time to start our way down, to sink back below the wide horizon ring between the hills. It was the west-facing slope we were going down on and the sun was still in its mid-day position right above us.

There were less flowers on the way down and most of them of the same species as we've seen on the way up. Still there were some new and interesting flowers like this white variant of the Padre's shooting star.

Padre's Shootingstar, Primula clevelandii 

There was this little white flower that I didn't recognized. It reminded me much of the Nemophila flowers but this one had six petals rather than the five typical of the Phacelia family that Nemiphila belong to. After asking experts I learned that it was indeed a Nemophila species, an individual with an extra petal.

Baby Blue Eyes, Nemophila menziesii var. atomaria

I also saw more of the Phacelia relatives - the houndstongue. There were more of them on the trail we took uphill but the better photos I got on the downhill side, under full sunlight.

Hound's Tongue, Cynoglossum Grande

Naturally the way down was going fast. Still I was the slow one in our group of three, being wary about my foot placement with each step/ Even so, I managed to slip on the trail. There was no injury (other than to my ego) but I was reminded that I need to be more watchful of my steps, coming back from a previous injury.

Here and there we also encountered dead oaks, including one that was converted by acorn woodpeckers into an acorn larder. This one was nearly empty, with only a few acorns stuck in the tree holes. I guess the woodpeckers were ravenous, or maybe squirrels and jays stole their bounty. Perhaps it was an old larder and the woodpeckers have moved to use a different tree.

The sun was now clearly heading west and we were walking directly in the evening's direction, descending quickly into the heavily forested valley of Coyote Creek.

The hill slopes were all nicely rounded by precipitation and winds, covered with soft soil held in place by tree roots and grasses. It was therefore interesting to see the occasional hard boulder or rock outcrop sticking out of the ground.

It was more surprising to see the remains of a building in the valley below. It looked like it might have been an inn of a sort. I remembered there was a mark on the map saying, 'hot springs' and a sign at the end of the road saying the hot springs were closed and inaccessible. I wonder if this old building was once part of a natural spa that is no longer open to people.

We were out of the oak savannah. Now we were walking under a thick forest of oaks with hardly any sun filtering through the canopies. The air chilled again, but not enough to put on the sweaters.

In the shade of the oaks I found the milkmaids flowers, another early spring bloomer, and one that I usually see up until May.

Milkmaids, Cardamine californica

Almost all the way down we came around the corner to the south-facing slope and all of a sudden we were out of the woods. There were no flowers there but we got to see the extension of the Coyote Creek valley until the next ridge.

We did get under the trees again for the last bit of trail that brought us all the way down to the creek. There was very little water running in the creek and we didn't stick around to check it out - my friends had time to sit for a quick snack together before driving away. I was dismayed to see a mylar balloon stuck up a tree near the creek. It was too high for me to retrieve. I really hope that these things would be outlawed, to float everywhere and never decompose.

 

I was the last to leave. After my friends departed I took my time and finished my tea that I had left in the car for the duration of the hike. It was still warm. I was happy to be there after the hike, enjoying the peace and quiet for just a little longer. Three days later I broke a bone in my foot and would be off the trail for even longer time than my previous injury-forced break.  

Many thanks to members of the California Native Plants Society for their help in identifying plants!