Wet Environmental Education at Little Darby

Date: November 30, 2014
Place: Little Darby Environmental Education Area, Willits, California
Coordinates: 39.437045, -123.257777
Length: about 1.5 miles
Level: moderate

That Subday after our strained hike at Grizzly Creek State Park we woke up in Willits, to the last day of Our Thanksgiving vacation. There was a general glumness in the air and a subtle pressure within the family to skip the hiking plan for the morning and drive straight home. It wasn't raining, but a heavy and grey dampness hung over us that might have contributed to the overall feeling. That, and the mute awareness that a regular work/school day was coming up just a single Earth-rotation away.

Fog on the Forest, Water in the Sky

Things looked more upbeat after breakfast, and the family agreed to a short morning hike. So I directed the car to a place I learned about only the night before: Little Darby Environmental Education Area.
The place is under the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), is habitat of the endangered spotted owl, a scouts camp, and a lovely place to hike.

Our hike at Little Darby, as captured by the GPS.

Finding the place isn't straight forward. Kind of a local secret, very little is written about it outside of the BLM site, and even there I could find only a general description to go on. We followed the given directions and when we arrived at the pullout that constituted the parking lot, the sky was once again dark with clouds. Grandma Quail, who wasn't feeling well that morning, decided to remain in the car and the rest of us donned our rain ponchos and headed into the damp forest.

It smelled wonderful. The damp forest felt and smelled absolutely wonderful. Earthy, rich, fresh. There were mushrooms everywhere, and the slugs were everywhere too. Feasting.

The trail begins with a drop down to the canyon. Below, the creek was running beautifully. As were all the tributaries.

We crossed the bridge and came across a sloped forest clearing where we found the remain of a primitive wood shelter, probably the work of the scouts from the summer before.

Bright orange spots littered the ground near the shelter. At that time we didn't pay much attention to them. On our way back, however, after completing the loop, I stooped over to see what they were.
Mushrooms, of course. Of a species I haven't encountered previously.

The clearing is where the loop trail starts (and ends). We took to the right and hiked along the creek.

The trees were all wrapped in a sheath of moss and fern, lush and moist.

Lichen, often seen at the most hostile environments, flourishes in the rich wetness of the California coastal forest.

The chikas were in a much better mood than the day before. They were eager to find new mushrooms for me to document.

Many of the mushrooms I've seen are edible. But I am never absolutely sure and I'm to afraid to try. The one wild mushroom I am sure about is the Suillus that grows under pine trees. At Little Darby I saw a close relative: a bolete mushroom that grew under a broadleaf tree that I didn't recognize.

Mushrooms don't have to be edible to be enjoyed. I have been admiring these fascinating organisms ever since I learned about them and the crucial role they play in the biome. But it is when they fruit above ground that I can enjoy their aesthetic qualities and sheer beauty.

Fungi decompose biological materials underground but also work inside dead logs to break down and release the locked-up nutrients, making them available once more to growing plants.

From the creek the trail climbs up the hillside. Water dripped heavily on our heads and for some time we told ourselves that it was just from the trees towering overhead. 

Most of the trees there were Douglas Fir, but there were also broadleaf trees here and there. One of these tree species was the red-barked California Madrone, beautifully contrasting with the forest greens. 

California Madrone

Atop the first loop there are two fallen trees, lying opposite of each other with a large gap between them. It was the perfect place for a rest stop. The trees must ave fallen fairly recently because nothing yet has grown on the freshly turned soil. 

About that place there is a split in the trail to the upper loop. We didn't plan to go on the upper loop (mainly because it became clear that the droplets were not coming just from the trees), but we had missed the turn. So further up we went. 

The trail wasn't all that steep, but it was quite slippery. The wood stairs were of some help, but to me they were more interesting as the mushroom garden they were. Each log seemed to have only one species of fungus growing on it. I wonder how long it would tale for the decomposition process to complete. 

Until the log would be recognizable only by the line of mushrooms on the ground. 

The rain intensified. We arrived at the top of the hill and looked around. At that point we'd realized we had taken the wrong turn. We could not recognize any landmark and we had no idea how long is the upper loop so, reluctantly, I conceded and agreed to go back the way we came. 

The view from the hilltop at Little Darby

Fortunately, the trail was more obvious on the way down and so we didn't have to backtrack our entire hike, but make the turn we had missed.

Papa Quail and the chikas were eager to go back to the car, while I lumbered along on my injured knee, steadying myself on the slippery slope with my hiking poles. Half way down, when I caught up with them for the umpfth time, I told Papa Quail to take the girls and hurry along. He wasn't happy about it, but conceded. Soon, all three were out of my sight.

With no one to hurry me along, I slowed down again and took more time to appreciate the local beauty.

Hiking in the rain has its merits. Many of them. If it isn't too cold, and wearing appropriate attire, it can be a very pleasant experience. Nature loves rain and responds in strong vibrance of scents and colors. 

Not to mention that some wildlife encounters are more chancy when conditions are wet :-)

I made it back to the creek and crossed the bridge. It was about there that I paid attention to the other organisms that the rain awoke: numerous sprouts of miners' lettuce were pushing through the mat of fir needles.

My way up to the road was very slow indeed. And it wasn't because of my knee, or because of the upgrade. It was the last walk of our Thanksgiving trip. Getting in the car meant going back home. 

But then, again, one must return to the home base in order to set out on a new adventure. The hike at Little Darby was the last of a long and highly gratifying vacation along the most spectacular coastline of Northern California, at the season when it bursts with life like nowhere else I know. 

Little Darby is a sweet little gem for hikers. Out of the way and not broadly known, this place is the perfect hide-out for anyone who likes a quiet retreat in the woods. 

A Hard Start to Our Vacation: Up and Around Annadel State Park

Date: November 24, 2014
Place: Annadel State Park, Santa Rosa, California
Coordinates (Spring Lake Park trailhead): 38.446947, -122.649278
Length: 7.6 miles
Difficulty: moderate to strenuous

The chikas have no school the entire week of Thanksgiving. That is, time to go on a road travel. Grandma Quail arrived on the Saturday before and by Sunday evening we were northbound on Hwy 101. It was already dark when we left home and we didn't go very far. We stopped for the night in Santa Rosa.
Not wishing to waste precious daylight on long distance driving I looked for a nearby park to hike at and Annadel State Park was the most logical choice. It is right by Santa Rosa and has plenty of trails to choose from.
We started at Spring Lake County Park. There is a nice picnic area there near the lake, with restrooms and a large parking lot. From there we got on the wide and easy dirt road that follows the creek and enters Annadel State Park from the west.

The weather was perfect. It was sunny and warm but not too hot. The first mile and a half lies in the open and a number of joggers were either passing us by, individuals and groups. We walked nice and slow, paying attention to every little thing along the way. The trees were far apart and had all the room they needed to develop full personality.

Once across the bridge the trees started closing in on the trail. Still sparse enough though, to let the sunshine through.

The creek curved east and the trail along with it. We were going uphill on a mild slope. A deer encounter by the trail was a good reason to stop for a while.

Deer

We continued on and the forest got denser and darker. Moss-coated laurel trees were hanging over the trail and the hillside was carpeted with lush ferns. The air grew chilly and damp.

The ground was even more damp and a heavy, earthy smell was hanging in the air. Rotting wood was scattered on the forest floor, decomposing by lichen and fungi.

Turkeytail

Mushrooms sighting was one of our two major objectives for this trip (along with birding). Sure enough, the forest at Annadel SP delivered to our expectations. The assortment of fungi we saw at Annadel were a good prelude to the mushroom splendor we saw on the following days in the forests of Mendocino, Humboldt and Del Norte counties.

Coral Mushroom

Attention was naturally drown to the large, colorful mushrooms. But some, little and delicate like fairy umbrellas, had caught my eye too.

Occasionally I would turn over a rock or a rotting log and look for wildlife underneath. I am always careful to reroof them gently after.

Millipede

All along the creek the trail ascends mildly. Nearing the reservoir the creek curves to the right and the trail continues straight, and then up. The grade becomes very steep and the trail very narrow. I looked at the narrow climb with apprehension: it hasn't been too long after I had a knee surgery done and I contemplated the wisdom of hiking up that trail on my brand new and very delicate still, ACL.
Grandma Quail, who brought along her own knee issues wondered aloud if that was the right trail or perhaps we took a wrong turn somewhere along the way.
It was the right trail though. Papa Quail went ahead, chikas in tow, and confirmed that fact. Grandma Quail hiked slowly after them and I brought up the rear, carefully leaning on my hiking poles with each step.

We made it all the way up, found a bench and sat down to rest. Grandma Quail and I were in agreement about not about to follow the original plan and go down that same trail. Elder chika laid down on the ground and in a very lively whine announced that she was about to die. Younger chika complained she was hungry and Papa Quail sighed and pulled the food out of the backpack. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes.
None of the forest cool came with us up the trail. Up by the lake it was hot and windless, and the tired-looking oak trees cast poor shadow. We could have sat there, motionless, until evening but eventually I became restless and got up to look around.
This nice patch of mushrooms helped getting the chikas up on their feet. Papa and Grandma Quail followed suit and soon we were hiking around the lake.

The circumventing trail wasn't really close to the water. I suspect that this is largely due the the years of consecutive drought that the lake's waterfront looked so inaccessible.

At one place there was a narrow trail that led down to the water. We managed to get fairly close only to be barred by a thick barrier of tule.
We couldn't see any birds in the water. If there were any, they must have been hiding in the vegetation.

Birds aren't the only flying things that we fancy. One brave butterfly came fluttering over and sat confidently on elder chika's finger.
Younger chile immediately wanted it too but when she reached her hand the butterfly flew away. Elder chika was upset with her sister and younger chika was heartbroken because she felt that butterflies love her sister better. She cried bitterly for a long time. For some reason she didn't feel any better even after I thoughtfully pointed out that she was better than her sister in attracting ticks ...

There is a wide plateau near the lake and the sight of it made it easy to forget that we were up on the hill. Had we had more time we would have probably stopped to explore that meadow some more but it was very hot and at that point we had already committed to hike the long way back down. Going the long way rather than descending back from where we climbed had added 2.5 more miles to our original plan, making this hike the longest we had done the entire of our Thanksgiving vacation.

Half way around the lake the chic as forgot the butterfly encounter and were back to their old selves again, complaining they were tired and hungry.
Exactly the right time to come across a sitting bench.

We started the long way down the hill before completing the round-the-lake circle. That trail is a wide dirt road, easy to tread and continuously used by bikers. For some distance it was still close enough to the lake to provide a good view: 

 A tall tree stripped of leaves but bearing mistletoe cushions caught my eye. I happened to notice a lot of mistletoe this year. Maybe it's the drought? Or maybe it's just that I notice these things more, now that I have a blog. Still, it is an impressive sight to see. 

A little further down the trail the view suddenly opened up. Until that point it was really hard to be aware of the height we were at. Now we could see all the way down and far. Although we weren't at a very high elevation it did make me feel on top of the world :-)

We continued down the trail and for a while - out of the forest. The sun was going down too and all of a sudden the chikas became aware that we will not make it back in time for lunch ...

On a rest stop on the way down elder chika remixed us that we had promised them mac n' cheese for lunch. They both complained they were hungry but refused the food we had with us, which consisted primarily on fruits, both fresh and dried. 

At that point I passed the park's map on to Papa Quail. He took the chikas and all three of them hurried down the trail and within seconds they disappeared around the curve. 

Coyote Brush

Grandma Quail and I continued slowly behind. We were making good pace, but didn't try keeping up with Papa Quail and the chikas.
A bit further down we plunged into the forest again and everything turned darker.

Here and there there the descending sun managed to peek through the foliage and brighten thinks a bit. 

We made it down to the creek again and turned left for the last stretch of trail leading back to the parking area. All that time we came across quite a few people who were making their way up, on foot or bicycle. I envied the ease of their walk and their confidence in making it up and back down in the little time left before nightfall.

At the last lag of the hike I took very few photos. Day light was running out and once we were back on flat terrain we increased our pace and kept at it all the way to the car. 

We arrived in perfect timing: Papa Quail had just finished cooking the mac n' cheese and was busy keeping the chikas away from each other's throats. With renewed energies Grandma Quail jumpy into the fray and completed setting the meal on the table. I took one last photo of a tiny red mushroom, then collapsed on a bench near the salad bowl. 

It has been a strenuous hike for all of us. What should have been a light lunch in the end turned out to be a heavy early dinner. When we were done packing everything back in the car it was dark already and we were all exhausted. I took the driver seat and within minutes everyone else dosed off to sleep and we were on our way to the town of Fort Bragg.