Getting Out: There are a number of locations in California
famous for impressive spring wildflower displays. High on that list
is Bear Valley. This is not Bear Valley, the ski resort, but a gash
in the hills of Northern California’s Coast Range. It has been on
my to-do list for years. Last week, I decided it was time to get to
it.
There are a number of locations in California famous for impressive spring wildflower displays. High on that list is Bear Valley. This is not Bear Valley, the ski resort, but a gash in the hills of Northern California’s Coast Range. It has been on my to-do list for years. Last week, I decided it was time to get to it.
Hop in the car, we’re going for a ride.
Wildflower seekers are a little like fishermen. Instead of, “Are they biting?” The question is, “Are they blooming?”
I had not seen any recent reports on the web, but my mental calculations came up with a hopeful sum. Since winter rains have persisted deep into spring, things seem to be blooming later in the season here at home. The end of April would normally be too late to visit Bear Valley, but perhaps this year it might be just right. It would be a fine day either way.
I lit out early on a weekday morning, hoping to beat the commute traffic out of the Bay Area. It was still early when I reached the town of Williams on Interstate 5 about an hour north of Sacramento. At Williams, I turned left on state Route 20 toward Clear Lake. Eighteen miles from Williams, just past a left turn onto state Route 16, Bear Valley Road appears suddenly on the right. There is no sign, and it comes up quickly, so be ready.
Bear Valley Road is a well-graded dirt road that follows Bear Creek. Wispy rose-colored blossoms of the tamarisk bush marked the course of the creek through the narrow gorge along the first four miles of the valley.
Wild scenery takes our breath away most easily at the edges — where land meets sea, where mountains touch the sky, and places like this, where the mountains suddenly move back, and the terrain rests into a sweeping open expanse. I was dumbstruck by a mile-wide valley stretching 10 miles before me. Forget about the flowers. This trip was worth the drive the moment I entered this valley.
The land here is privately owned cattle country. Only an occasional ranch vehicle passed as I drove slowly up the valley looking this way and that. Near a bold rock outcropping (Bear Valley Buttes) at the head of the valley, I pulled into a ranch that advertised a Bear Valley Wildflower Book for sale: They’re on the table on the porch. Help yourself. I grabbed one and put $15 in the jar.
My only disappointment was the wildflower show. There was an interesting variety and patches of nice color, but the once-in-a-lifetime display I hoped to see had either passed or just wasn’t happening this year. The full length of the road is fenced and all of my prowling was limited to the road and its shoulder.
A well-known photographer once told me that if nature isn’t putting on the show you expect that day, look for the show it is putting on. So, I pulled out my binoculars to see what was beyond my reach. I could see large bright patches of delphinium (larkspur) a half mile away near the edge of the valley. Prancing carelessly through a group of indifferent lounging cattle were a half-dozen coyotes, including some new pups.
The wildflower chaser, like the fisherman, often hears, “Gosh, you missed it. They were really blooming (or biting) last week.” But I was not disappointed. Bear Valley was a revelation — in bloom or not. I could not have spent a better day, and I will come again.
