High Water Celebration of Winter at Sunol Regional Wilderness

Alameda Creek

 

 

Date: December 12, 2022

Place: Sunol Regional Wilderness, Sunol, California

Coordinates: 37.510165, -121.829799

Length: 2.7 miles (1.8 miles without all the diversions)

Level: easy

Not to jinx it, but it looks like we might have a real winter this year. So far at least, the rains were good and I hope they continue like that through April. One of the most pleasing outcomes of the past weekend's rains was that the Alameda Creek got gorgeous flow now. This morning I put off everything I needed to do and went to Sunol Regional Wilderness to check out the flow in its natural path. I walked to Little Yosemite, the short, easy trail that features so much beauty year-round, but particularly so on good winters.

My hike as captured by my GPS

It wasn't all that early when I arrived at the parking lot but I found it empty of cars. As I made my way to the bridge that crosses the creek I saw a number of vans getting through the Ohlone Camp Road gate, which is closed to the general public. The vans belonged to the San Francisco Water Company which manages the reservoir upstream of the park area. One of the men told me that they were going to check the dam. After they passed me I paused on the bridge and gazed down at the fast flow of water below.

Alameda Creek

The morning was overcast but the rains have ceased for the time being. I started up the familiar gravel road but as soon as I passed the first cattle guard I veered right on the first footpath stream access.

Ohlone Camp Road

At the end of the footpath there's a waterhole. Not a hole really, but a wider and flatter part of the creek where at warmer days people like to come to and enjoy the water. Now the usually calm 'pool' was flowing fast and furious.

I looked with awe at the gashing whirlpools formed downstream of the waterhole. Running high, this creek could be dangerous. 

At the creek bank in that location there are rocks loaded with fossils of seashells. I walked over to check them out. After being washed well by the rains the fossils looked as if they were embedded there recently. They are about 5-20 million years old though, a Miocene Briones formation.

Fossils

From that location it is possible to walk upstream right along the bank when the water is lower and calmer. Now of course, the water covered the path and I wouldn't have risked it even if I was tempted to step into the cold water.

Alameda Creek

I returned to the Ohlone Camp Road and continued walking up the trail. Most of the trees along the road are oaks and many of them are Valley oaks which are deciduous. Nearly all of them have dropped their leaves already but a few were still hanging on, displaying late fall colors. The other common deciduous trees there, the California Buckeyes, were completely bare for quire some time now. They are the first to drop their leaves.

All around me I heard the loud, raspy calls of acorn woodpeckers. There are many of them in the area, and they were very active. None of them was close enough or stayed put long enough for me to get a decent photo but I did manage to capture one of these beautiful birds as it hanged from the side of a branch. That's the little red dot in the middle of the photo below. Better click on the photo to enlarge it.

Acorn Woodpecker

More water company vans were coming up the road and I started planning in my mind escaped routes in case the dam breaks ... I was mildly surprised that I didn't see any other hikers though.

Ohlone Camp Road

Shortly before the Little Yosemite area there's a bench and a view point near a large rock protrusion. I didn;t stop at the bench but I did go over to the view point and looked up the gulch. The valley cut by Alameda Creek used to be the main path of commute between Livermore area and the Bay communities in the early days of modern settlement. This narrow rocky area of the creek valley was also a place where bandits used to ambush the passer by people and rob them.

I wasn't looking for any wildflowers. I didn't expect to see any this time of year. The bright red color belongs to the ripening berries of the Toyon bush. When they are ripe I like to chew on them when I see them on my local hikes.

Toyon. Heteromeles arbutifolia

Coffee Fern (no relations to true coffee) is a dry-resistant fern that adorns many exposed slopes in the East Bay. Even this dry-tolerant fern enjoyed the longed for rains. 

Coffee Fern, Pellaea andromedifolia

I passed the second cattle guard and immediately turned to the right on another footpath leading to the bottom of the Little Yosemite area. There's a series of cascades there that spill into a large waterhole. That waterhole too is a very popular hangout place on the summer. Now it was nearly impossible to tell all the cascade drops from one-another, and the waterhole wasn't visible at all. It wasn't the highest I've seen this creek, but it was close to it.

Alameda Creek

I focused on the main 'waterfall' in that cascade series. The previous time I hiked there was in September, and the water trickled so thinly that I wasn't able to see where it came down the rocks. I now stood there for a long time just enjoying the sight of that luxurious flow.

Coming back from the lower view point I continued up the gravel road to the Little Yosemite area.  On the way I saw a pretty coyote brush that was still hanging on to its snow-white seeds. 

Coyote Brush, Baccharis pillularis

People who've seen the real Yosemite scoff at the name given to this part of the Alameda Creek. This local rocky canyon does not match the grandeur of actual Yosemite but it does stands out on its own as a gorgeous natural feature by its own right.

Fall Colors at Little Yosemite

Here too the flow was strong and impressive. I watched from above for some time but didn't go down to the water.

Even the waterhole here was fully covered and invisible under the high current. In the hot summer days it is fun to wade to that small waterfall and sit underneath for a good back massage. Now of course, that would be insane to do so.

I continued a bit more upstream to where the water come from a flatter, calmer stretch of the creek and then funnel into the narrow drop of upper Little Yosemite. That was quite a sight to see.

But even the flatter area, where I usually do go down to the water on my hikes there, was flowing rapidly.

Alameda Creek

That was where I turned around and started returning down the road. The road is packed gravel but here and there some of the local big rocks show through, including this beautiful deep blue rock which I was told was blueschist. I know this rock from my previous hikes but I loved seeing it all washed up and glistening.

Blueschist

On my way down the road I also realized that the trail wasn't devoid of wildflowers despite the season. The sagebrush shrubs were blooming. Strings of small, unassuming inflorescence heads were extending from the grayish shrubs. The recent rains have also intensified the aroma of these bushes and I was very tempted to pick some for my tea (but I didn't).

California Sagebrush, Artemisia californica

The clouds were breaking up and by now I also started seeing other hikers coming up the trail. Singles and couples, mainly. The day was already beautiful and was turning even more so. It was great to see the bright blue sky without the air pollution we take as normal these days.

Ohlone Camp Road

Most of the oak tree trunks there are holed into acorn granaries by the acorn woodpeckers. This year was a mast year for the oaks in the area and the granaries were full to the last hole.

Woodpecker Granary

There were heavy clouds lingering still over Flag Hill but they too were receding. I hiked there a while ago. Perhaps it is time to revisit that trail now that the hill was greening up.

Flag Hill

There's a large oak tree hanging over the road near the bridge and that oak is loaded with mistletoe - a semi-parasite plant that like the oak, feeds many animal species (birds in particular) with its berries. When a valley oak drops its leaves in the fall, the mistletoe balls are the only green on the tree until springtime.

Mistletoe, Phoradendron leucarpum, on Valley Oak, Quercus lobata

The large oak standing right by the gate was still holding on to its leaves. Not for much longer, I suppose. The winter we waited for for three years now has finally arrived, and I hope it would stay for a long while.

Many thanks to members of the California Geology Forum for their help in identifying the rock formations!

Dry Falls and the Big Burn: Day 3 of the Ohlone Wilderness Backpacking Trip

Date: May 23, 2021

Place: Ohlone Wilderness Trail, between Sunol and Livermore, California

Coordinates:  37.530754, -121.707233

Length: 7 miles

Level: Strenuous  

Link to the post of Day 2 of the Ohlone Wilderness backpacking trip.

On the morning of our third and final day of the Ohlone Wilderness backpacking trip I woke up relaxed and energized, after having a good night sleep. My companions also had a better sleep than the night before. It is not unusual that the first night of a backpacking trip is the least restful one. 

 

No one else had shown up, we were still all by ourselves in the morning. Although we weren't in any particular hurry, we didn't dally. As before, I was the first one out of the tent, taking out the breakfast supplies and heating water for the morning tea. As soon as my companions were out we had our breakfast and quickly broke camp and packed everything. 

Our trail for today was a little shorter than that of Day 2 but no less strenuous. In fact, it turned out to be the most challenging day of this trip. 

Our hike from Stewart's Camp to Del Valle Regional Park as captured by my GPS

We started with ease, going downhill a very mild slope under the patched shade of a live oak forest. When we passed the tree in the photo below I was compelled to peek inside that hole. There were no surprises in there though.

The Yawning Tree

A short distance downhill from Stewart's Camp was a small reservoir, still full. It looked like a nice spot the hang by but all we did was take a look and a few photos, then move on. 

On the slope down to the reservoir was a nice patch of blooming lupines. I didn't get off the trail for a closer look but I enjoyed the color added to the dry grass. 

Away from the reservoir the scenery was more like what we've seen earlier on the Ohlone Wilderness Trail: beautiful oak savannah of smooth, rolling hills. 

Stewart's Camp is off the main Ohlone Wilderness trail, on a detour loop that adds more than two miles and one extra uphill section to this trek. I chose to add it because it passes close to Murietta Falls and, although I knew for sure that these seasonal falls would not be running, I still wished to see it. 

We crossed the creek that was supposed to feed into the waterfall. The creek was dry, as I expected (can't deny that I did have a tiny hope that there would be water there). I couldn't see anything resembling a waterfall where the map marked it should be. None was visible from the trail.

Disappointed, we continued uphill some, when three young women came down the trail towards us. They too, were looking for the Murrieta waterfall.

From a higher place we had a better vision of the area and I saw a rocky place off the trail and figured that the waterfall must be there. We didn't get too far way from it so I wanted to go back and take a look. One of my companions decided to stay up and rest and the other joined me.

We left our heavy backpacks in care of our third companion, and galloped downhill toward the rocky place we saw from above.

A narrow path diverged from the main trail toward the rocks. we followed it to the edge and around a rocky protrusion and got a skewed view of a sheer drop smoothed by water.

The creek leading to the waterfall was really inconspicuous. No wonder I had missed it. We got around the rock protrusion and into the dry creek bed just above the waterfall.

From the top of the falls I could see how impressive the drop was and I wished I could see this waterfall in flow. I didn't dare getting all the way to the very edge so I don't have a photo of the full height of this waterfall. There was a thin trail leading to the base of the falls but we decided not to get down there.

Murietta Falls, dry

A small cavity above the waterfall still held some water in it. The water was old, warm, scuzzy, and full of bugs.

Little plants grew in the cracks of the rock. It added a nice splash of color to the gray stone face. 

Below the waterfall the creek continued on and on, eventually opening up into the Livermore valley. There's a trail there, and maybe another way to access the waterfalls, although on the map it looks much longer than the Ohlone Wilderness Trail from Del Valle.

We explored the Murietta Falls area for a few more minutes, then went back up the trail to where םur companion was waiting near the backpacks. She asked about the waterfall, we had a sip of water, and then we hoisted our backpacks and continued on.

We needed to reconnect with the Ohlone Wilderness Trail. It was an uphill stretch but not a very long one, and there were more mariposa lilies along the way.

Yellow Mariposa Lily, Calochortus luteus

At the junction with the Ohlone Wilderness Trail there was a small cattle pond that perfectly reflected the blue skis and the surrounding oak trees. I felt compelled to check out that pond and this time my companions joined me on the short diversion to the water.

There were fish in that pond! Likely brought there to mitigate the mosquito larvae. They were not easy to see or photograph through the murky water.

There were patches of aquatic flowers on the surface of the pond. The first grabber of attention was the water lily, a non-native beauty. It's Latin name indicates it has a nice smell too but the flowers were too far from me to detect any fragrance. 

Water Lily, Nymphaea odorata, Non-native

On the muddy sides of the pond bloomed the much smaller but no less beautiful, water buttercup. It was much harder to get any decent photo of these little guys. 

White Water Buttercup, Ranunculus aquatilis

Blue butterflies swooped to the muddy pond sides, resting briefly, possibly sucking in moisture and minerals. I could watch them for a long time but we didn't have the time. After a few minutes of exploration, we got back on the rail and resumed our hike. 

From the trail junction we had a fairly short uphill segment. When we reached the top we had the entire Livermore valley below, and Mount Diablo floating above it. Way down below we could see Lake Del Valle - our final destination. 

Mount Diablo View

We took a short break at the top, admiring the crooked trees and enjoying a snack. We talked a little about the incredible life story that one of my companions had shared with us yesterday. A few back and forth questions and answers had revealed that my other companion had quite an interesting tale to tell too. 

We had a long way down. We were at the top of the longest and steepest slope of the Ohlone Wilderness Trail, the one that is called "The Big Burn". People who walk this trail from the east must climb it. We were going downhill. 

Indian Paintbruss, Castilleja affinis

Downhill is usually considered easier, or at least less physically demanding. Long and steep downhill slope are in fact, much more problematic in more than one way. I down think it's less physically demanding - the effort of stopping one self from sliding and slipping is very taxing. On top of that, it's the knee and hip joints that take the punishment rather than the muscles. To top it all, long and steep downhill slopes are where a hiker with less than ideal shoes is most prone to develop blisters. 

My companion who had it hardest the first two days was now having the best time. Wearing sneakers rather than hiking boots, she had no blisters at all. She had also filled her socks with wads of petroleum jelly and was surprised that neither me nor our third companion knew about the effect of that jelly in preventing blisters. 

Coyote Mint, Monardella villosa

My other companion had arrived at the top of The Big Burn with some blisters already and as we were descending, they were causing her considerable pain. She walked very carefully, trying to place her feet down with as little roll as possible, and was moving very slowly because of that. She told us to go ahead and not wait for her but neither of us did. I too had some tender spots on my feet, foreshadowing the blister agony I'd have a month later coming down Mount Shasta. 

All three of us stayed together. We walked slowly, me and my pained companion listening with much fascination to the life story of our third companion, who was now in a very cheerful mood and was able to distract our minds from the pain in the feet, at least somewhat.

Chinese Houses, Collinsia heterophylla

The Big Burn is a north-facing slope, which made it the greenest and shadiest part of the entire Ohlone Wilderness Trail. It also had the biggest display and species diversity of wildflowers along that part of the trail. 

White Globe Lily, Calochortus albus

This time I didn't need to any excuses for walking slowly. Our progress was slow enough so I didn;t need more than a slight pause to get the photos I wanted. 

Crimson Clumbine, Aquilegia formosa

Down, down, down we went. It felt endless. We started slow and the further down we went the slower we got. It was good to have our unaffected companion tell her life story. It was so interesting that i was able to forget completely my discomforts. It was more challenging for our blistered companion but she too was able to engage in the conversation and didn't let much of her pain show. 

At the bottom of The Big Burn was a creek and to my great delight it was flowing! We sat down to rest and filter drinking water.  A California Sister butterfly flew by and sat on a nearby rock, undisturbed by my attention. 

We took a long, restful break by the creek but then we needed to get up and move on. The next bit was an uphill again - a relief for the blistered feet. A dead sycamore holed by woodpecker marked the continuation of the trail after leaving the creekside. 

The uphill part was all too short. South-facing, that slope didn't have too many wildflowers blooming by the trail, but there were some. Accustomed to the uphill walk by now, we climbed that segment in a short time. 

Morning Glory, Calystegia malacophylla 

Once again we sat to rest. My companion who had it well today, and was sharing her own incredible story with us, persuaded the other one to smear petroleum jelly on her feet. She encouraged her to put lots and lots of it so it'll remain lubricated even after much is absorbed into the socks. I watched and retained the information in my memory for future use.

Western Thistle, Cirsium occidentale 

We were at the top of the last downhill lag, the one that would carry us all the way down to Lake Del Valle, where I parked Pappa Quail's car three days before. It was less high than The Big Burn, but it stretched along a longer distance. What was worse was that this part wasn't a solid earth switchback type of trail, but a gravel road, making it less stable under the feet. I had my poles to help with my balance but that terrain proved to be seriously damaging for my companion with the blisters. Her blisters were fully formed and bloated by now, beyond the aid of any amount of petroleum jelly, and she was suffering with every step. 

There was no alternative but to go down. We walked slowly, taking frequent stops. Chatting and discussing common interests. I kept pointing out nature's curiosities to my companions, such as the mistletoe balls which decorated almost every tree along the way.

Mistletoe, Phoradendron leucarpum ssp. tomentosum 

Although we were going down a north-facing slope again, this one was more exposed and considerably drier than The Big Burn. Still, there were quite a few wildflowers to enjoy.

Graceful Clarkia, Clarkia gracilis 

Mistletoe is a parasitic plant. Dispersed by means of birds poop, it sprouts on tree branches and digs into their vascular system for water and nutrition. It does photosynthesize, but relies mostly on its host's vitality. It's an evergreen too, and would be the only green thing on a wintering deciduous host, such as the Valley Oak. We were there in May so the trees were with full foliage, but it was still easy to tell where the host ended and the mistletoe begun.

An oak tree (Velley Oak?) with mistletoe

There were many, many mariposa lilies along the trail. At some point I stopped taking their photos. There were just so many of them, both yellow and white, and each was perfect. This one however, had a butterfly inside it, so of course I had to stop and take a closer look.

Yellow Mariposa, Calochortus superbus 

We were descending continuously now. My hurting companion refused any more stops, arguing that stopping won't make the pain go away, and that she wanted to go on and finish the hike. Her words and demeanor were etched in my psyche. A month later I would say those very same words to the guide that stuck with me all the agonizing way down Mount Shasta. 

Unlike the forested slope of The Big Burn, this slope's greenery was nearly all high chaparral: a thicket of bushes, in this case quite tall. The few 'real' trees that grew on that slope were sticking out like the redwood Hyperion in the midst of normal trees. The tall pine in the photo below definitely was a giant among dwarfs, although it was probably an average size pine.

One of the most common chaparral bushes was the manzanita, with its shiny dark red and very smooth bark and coin-like gray-green leaves.

Turkey vultures circles the sky above us. I didn't take many bird photos on this trip, my camera isn't suitable for birding. This vulture however, was modeling nicely right overhead. Perhaps it was checking to see if we're dead yet.

Turkey Vulture

May is the best time to see buckeye trees in bloom, and I was very excited to see a blooming one on the trail. It was sad to see that its leaves were already drying out however. We had practically no winter last year.

California Buckeye, Aesculus californica

Further down the trail we got to a shadier area that was also greener, with lush coyote brush and poison oak, fully green still, decorated by the white puffballs of the pipestem seed heads.

Clematis sp.

Another common chaparral member is the sticky monkeyflower. It too was at peak bloom, adding beautiful color to the dusty greenery of the slope.

Sticky Monkeyflower, Diplacus aurantiacus 

We slowly made our way around the final curves of the trail and the view of Lake Del Valle grew larger and larger. We were getting down later than I had expected but we were in no rush other than wanting to relieve the aching feet.

Del Valle Reservoir

We reached the border of Del Valle Regional Park and signed out of the Ohlone Wilderness Trail at the signing board that was posted there. From there it was less than a mile to the parking lot. It was then, and only then that we encountered the first mosquitoes on this trip. The bug repellent that I packed was deep inside my backpack and I think it was the same with my companions. Instead of taking the backpacks off and searching for the bug spray we simply took off and started to (almost) run. All the aches and pains and discomforts were temporarily pushed aside - we were escaping an onslaught of mosquitoes!

Woodland Clarkia, Clarkia unguiculata 

Pappa Quail's car in the parking lot was a very welcomed sight. I reached the car first and dropped my backpack on the asphalt. My companions arrived on time as I pulled the key out and unlocked the car. Without delay we shoved our backpacks in the trunk, got inside and drove off, leaving the cloud of mosquitoes behind. 

We had to go to Sunol first, to retrieve the car that we parked there on the first day of the trip. There we hugged and said goodbye to our companion with the blisters. She was very relieved to finally change her shoes. Then me and my other companion drove back to my home where she had parked her car. We stopped momentarily on the way to buy a watermelon and to text Pappa Quail that we're on our way. 

 

 

I had a great time. I finally backpacked the Ohlone Wilderness Trail, and I felt that I was coming along well with my training for the Mount Shasta expedition that was coming up next month. It seemed that my companions also had a good time all and all, despite the lack of showers, the cold nights, and the blisters. The only thing that I was sorry for was not seeing Murietta Falls when flowing. That was corrected on a very strenuous day hike last Sunday, a hike I will write about separately.