Be careful. You may find yourself walking down the street, lost in your personal reverie, when all of a sudden you are picking yourself off the pavement; the only evidence of your encounter is the waffle-soled boot marks of a Mt. Hoffman Challenger up your back.
I was witness to the energy of this intrepid group a couple Saturdays ago on our third prep hike as we get ready for the climb 10,855-foot Mt. Hoffman in Yosemite National Park this summer. We converged on Pinnacles National Park for a 9-mile (round-trip) hike that would take us up 2,000 feet to the top of North Chalone Peak, a strenuous hike that will quickly reveal the faint of heart.
The next time you are traveling U.S. 101 through Soledad or King City in the Salinas Valley, look to the east. Rising 3,000 feet, topped with a boarded-up fire lookout tower, is the impressive hulk of North Chalone Peak. From that vantage point, it is a bit surprising that you are looking at a mountain that is in Pinnacles National Park.
All of us were surprised by activity at Pinnacles on a warm winter Saturday. We planned to park at the Bear Gulch Day Use Area, but parking spots filled quickly there and many people had to park several miles back at the visitor center and take a shuttle—an unexpected inconvenience.
The route to North Chalone Peak begins through the popular Bear Gulch Caves, which were formed by huge boulders that tumbled from above into a narrow gorge. We needed flashlights to see our way, and a few spots required a bit of squatting and sideways-shuffling to slip through. A few hikers uncomfortable at that prospect bypassed the caves by an alternate trail.
Both paths converged at Bear Gulch Reservoir, a surprising and unlikely oasis nestled in the volcanic rock so characteristic of Pinnacles—rock that the San Andreas Fault has carried 195 miles north from the Lancaster area in southern California.
No more cool wet caves. We emerged into bright sunshine and began climbing through a landscape that would be forbidding in August, but was ideal on this mild late-winter day. A host of chaparral shrubs cloaked the hills, interrupted occasionally by gray pines and beautiful rock spires. Shooting stars, Indian warriors, Indian paintbrush, buckbrush and bush poppy splashed lovely color along the way.
As we climbed, the view grew wider, until at the summit, it seemed limitless. The world dropped away in every direction. To the west, the Salinas Valley, bound on the far side by the impressive Santa Lucia Mountains, descended gently toward a foggy Monterey Bay. To the east, the endless folds of the inner Coast Range. Cheeks were rosy and chests were heaving, but every face had a smile.
Keep an eye out. If one of these robust folks is walking behind you, you are on your own. If you would like to join us, email me at [email protected].
