Getting Out: Natural landscapes can be tricky. We all agree that
the gaudy ones are important and need to be protected. Grand
mountains, ancient forests and mile-deep canyons are sights that
even the most barren soul is willing to protect from
exploitation.
But when a landscape lacks the spectator value, the matter
becomes a little dicey.
Natural landscapes can be tricky. We all agree that the gaudy ones are important and need to be protected. Grand mountains, ancient forests and mile-deep canyons are sights that even the most barren soul is willing to protect from exploitation.
But when a landscape lacks the spectator value, the matter becomes a little dicey. As our understanding of ecology has grown, so has our belief that less picturesque regions are important as well. Not long ago, the Mojave Desert was dismissed as a wasteland. Now that we have learned about this delicate environment, its diverse residents and unique geology, we have chosen to protect it as a 1.6 million-acre national park. Good for us. We’re learning.
Last weekend, I was reminded of this there’s-more-than-meets-the-eye lesson here in my own backyard.
We drive past Coyote Ridge, east of U.S. Highway 101 between Morgan Hill and San Jose, giving it little notice. Except for an occasional splash of bright yellow goldfields, this naked 1,400-foot high ridge rolls and folds its humble way from Morgan Hill to San Jose offering no attractions to distract you. If I paid you a dollar for every tree you saw on that 10-mile ridge, you would have to reach into your own pocket to buy a hamburger.
How many times does mom need to remind us that the charms of a person or a place may not be evident at first glance? Our guided walk up Coyote Ridge was a reminder that mom knows what she is talking about. A number of phenomena converge here to create a community of rare and unusual interest.
The ridge is underlain by a large deposit of serpentine, which is toxic to many plants but sustains other uncommon species that tolerate these conditions. Santa Clara Valley dudleya, Mount Hamilton thistle, San Francisco wallflower and the most beautiful jewelflower are a few of the rare or endemic species our guide pointed out on our climb up the ridge. But the tiny California plantain (Plantago erecta) is perhaps the most important plant on the ridge. This inconspicuous orb is the main food source for the larvae of the endangered Bay checkerspot butterfly, a threatened species that clings to existence in only a handful of remaining habitats in the Bay Area.
On the climb, docents focused on the nature of this unusual community and its various residents. But at the crest, the center of attention shifted from the academic to scenic extravagance. The rolling ridge top was carpeted with tidy tips, goldfields and purple owls clover in gaudy concentrations. The contrast between the west side and the east side of Coyote Ridge could not have been greater. A bustling Santa Clara Valley was replaced on the far side by huge green reaches of open space stretching toward distant Mount Hamilton and Henry Coe State Park.
We lunched among the flowers, taking in the beauty near and far. A small herd of tule elk lounged on the ridge below. A prairie falcon darted overhead. A golden eagle drifted across the face of the ridge below.
In 1868, John Muir, in California for only a matter of days and on his way to Yosemite, walked along this very ridge and later wrote, “The landscapes of Santa Clara Valley were fairly drenched with sunshine. All the air was quivering with the songs of the meadowlarks, and the hills were so covered with flowers that they seemed to be painted.”
The work of good people at the Santa Clara County Open Space Authority (www.openspaceauthority.org), the Silicon Valley Land Conservancy (www.siliconvalleylc.org) and the Committee for Green Foothills (www.greenfoothills.org) have allowed us to enjoy this setting much as John Muir did 140 years ago.
Hikes offered by these agencies are the only opportunity to visit Coyote Ridge. They have concluded for spring, but make a note to check their websites as next spring approaches. There’s more there than meets the eye.
