[Journal for December 13-22, 2015; California Trip]. Dallas and I attended the American Geophysical Union meeting at the Moscone Convention Center in downtown San Francisco. I left San Francisco mid-afternoon on Thursday December 17 to do three days of hiking at Big Sur.

December 14, 2015. In the mid-afternoon, I took the Number 5 bus from downtown San Francisco to Golden Gate Park, in the western part of the city. The bus let me off near the California Academy of Sciences building. I walked across the Music Concourse, a large area with statues, fountains and a grid of small, well-trimmed trees. Heading east through the park, I came to the Japanese Tea Garden, paid my admission, and walked among its formal gardens, pools and Japanese-motif decorations. Large carp, orange and black in color, inhabited the pools. They swam over to me and the other visitors, looking for handouts (but received none from me). One of the paths took me over an extremely steep bridge with a semi-circular outline. I could look down from its crest across the pools and the many sculpted and twisted evergreens. After leaving the Tea Garden, I continued westward through the main part of the park. I passed the Rose Garden. Amazingly, a few of the rose bushes were still in bloom. I was to encounter many other beautiful flowers during the course of the day.. I came upon Rainbow Falls, a surprisingly high water fall. A turtle sat on a rock in the pool at the base of the falls. At first I thought that the water was recirculated, for the falls seemed in a somewhat unlikely location, but I followed the outlet stream for a half mile or more, and concluded that the stream that delivers water to the top of the falls must have been carefully engineered. The outlet stream from the flaws flowed over several smaller waterfalls and then flowed into Lloyd Lake, a pleasant pond surrounded by overhanging trees. I watched ducks paddle around in the lake for a few minutes, and then continued my walk westward. I passed another pond, Spreckels Lake, and the Bison Paddock. A couple of Bison stood passively in one corner, not doing much. I then passed the Dutch Windmill, one of two old -style wooden windmills at the west end of the park. I crossed Great Highway and walked out onto the windswept sand of Ocean Beach. The surf was strong, with several rows of high and foaming waves breaking onto the shore. I walked along the sea’s edge, watching the waves break over rocks that protruded from the sea and batter the cliffs at the north end of the beach. I walked over to their base. The sandstone was weathered into an interesting pockmarked pattern. I rejoined Great Highway and too it north, past Cliff House, and steeply uphill into Lands End Park. I hurried along the pedestrian path set high on the hillside, for the sun was getting rather low in the sky and I did not want to get caught in the dark. I had some nice views of the Marin Headlands and the Golden Gate Bridge, but resolved to return on another day when I had more time to explore the park, and especially, to take one of the side trails down to the sea. I exited the park on El Camino Del Mar, in the Sea Cliff district of San Francisco. I took a quick side trip to China Beach, for the view of the Golden Gate Bridge, now lit by the evening sun, was really spectacular from there. I then walked south to California Street and took the Number 1 bus back downtown. I arrived back in downtown San Francisco about 6:30 PM and bought a pizza from Uncle Vito’s, a local restaurant. 4:00.

December 15, 2015. In the late afternoon, I walked up to California Street and took the Number 1 bus to the end of the line, to Lands End. I walked up a staircase, adorned with beautifully custom glazed tiles, through the park, and connected with the same walkway along which I hurried last evening at sunset, which is set above the sea cliffs. I was treated to beautiful views as I walked along, of the sea, and the Marin Headlands and the Golden Gate Bridge. I took a side trail down to a point of land that juts out into the sea. Windswept conifer trees decorated the beige rock. The current was strong, forming a long wake around a navigation tower offshore. I descended further still, down to the beach, and walked southward along the shore. The waves crashed into boulders, throwing up spray. I walked as far a huge solitary stack of rock, a squat column higher than a house. It sat at the edge of the shore, lapped by waves and inhabited by a flock of gulls. It was dramatically lit by the setting sun. The beach becomes impassible past the point, or at least nearly so, full of a tangle of large angular blocks, slippery with algae. I then headed back the way I came, and caught the bus back to downtown. I arrived in time to attend the Lamont Reception in the Marriot. 2:00.

December 17, 2015. In the mid-afternoon, I took the BART to San Francisco Airport, rented a car, and drove south to Big Sur. I joined Route 1 south of Santa Cruz, a road that hugs the shore, often at the edge of a steep sea cliff. I stopped at several of the many pull offs to view this extraordinary coastline, with rocks and cliffs glowing in the late afternoon sun and waves with white spray crashing into them, throwing up spray fifty feet into the air. I checked into Riverside Campground and Cabins, off of Route 1 in Big Sur. I rented Cabin 9, a smart but tiny cabin set between a pair of tall Coast Redwood trees. I then drove south to Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, set along the coast in the valley of McWay Creek. I parked in the main low and took a pedestrian path out to a headland. The path is set a hundred feet or more above the sea, by an enclosed circular bay full of rocks and floating strands of kelp, with a narrow strip of sand between sand and cliff. The creek flows over the cliff edge and onto the sand below, making tall and narrow McWay Falls. By sunset, a crowd of twenty or more people had gathered. We all stood by the railing of the pathway, watching the sun sink through the sky and set beneath the sea. Afterward, I had a dinner of fish and chips at the Maiden Publick House, a short walk south along Route 1 from my cabin. 1:00

December 18, 2015. I arose early to a beautiful sunny day. After a breakfast of eggs and has browns at the Ripplewood Resort, I drove south to Big Sur Station. I parked at the main lot and after a quick discussion with the ranger, and after buying a hiking map from him, I set off on the Pine Ridge Trail. This is a long trail with a very gentle and uniform grade that follows the valley of the Big Sur River, being set about halfway up on the steep southern hillside. The trail skirts the edge of Pfeiffer Big Sur Campground and then ascends, by a series of switchbacks, up into the hills. Many sections of the trails, and especially those sections that wrap into tributary valleys, are full of Coast Redwood trees. I love walking among these trees, so tall that one looks down slope fifty feet or more to see their roots and up a hundred feet or mode to see their tops. The trail wraps into and out of tributary valleys in order to maintain a steady grade. Most of these were dry, but three had small streams that supported lush fern and other vegetation. The views of nearby Mount Manuel and the more distant - and higher – Island Mountain are spectacular. I had been heading for the Sykes Campground, because of its hot springs, but after four hours of hiking was still three miles short and running out of time, so I made Barlow Flats my endpoint, instead. It is a broad, flat and shady area at the level of the Big Sur River, in a grove of California Redwoods. The water level in the river was low and I had no problem crossing it by stepping from stone to stone. I walked downstream as far as a large pool that was lit by the afternoon sun. I stood there for a while, watching the flowing water, and then headed back. Though the walk back was mostly downhill and less exerting than the outward leg, my progress was nevertheless only a little faster. After about an hour, I passed a young woman with a German accent who asked directions to Sykes campground. I warned her of the distance, gave her my hiking map, and wished her luck. The sun was getting pretty low in the sky when I finally made to Big Sur Station. I spoke with the ranger about the morrow’s weather and replaced my donated map. I was too tired to find a restaurant, and instead ate chips and cheese dip in my cabin. 7:10.

December 19, 2015. Rain fell during the night tapered off towards morning. A little sun was showing among clouds by the time I left my cabin at 8AM. I first drove to Point Sur, and viewed the hump of a headland that protrudes into the sea and which hosts a lighthouse and Naval Station. Cows grazed in the fields surrounding the headland. I then had a croissant and coffee at the Big Sur Bakery and then had another conference with the ranger at Big Sur Station. His weather map predicted gradual clearing during the day, so I decided to try for the summit of Mount Manuel (3379 ft), on the north side of the Big Sur Valley. I drove to Day Use Area 3 of Pfeiffer Biig Sur State Park, and took the Mount Manuel Trail, past a old and tiny Homesteader’s Cabin, up into the hills. The first part of the trail switches steeply uphill, first through an oak grove and then through chaparral. It levels out about halfway up the mountain and begins a long traverse of the hillside. The trail is relatively easy, but less well-maintained than the Pine Ridge Trail that I hiked yesterday, being uncomfortably narrow in places, and overgrown in others with bushes. I am amazed how different this trail feels to Pine Ridge, for the two are on opposite sides of the same valley, but the trail’s southern exposure makes for drier conditions that cannot support Coast Redwoods. I encountered them only once, a beautiful stand of tall trees, in a large sheltered tributary valley. The rest of the time I walked through low chaparral, a semi-arid vegetation that is quite pretty when viewed close up, though merely bushy grey when view from a distance. A few plants were blooming, including a small plant sporting trumpet-shaped yellow blooms, but (unsurprisingly for winter) most blooms had already gone by. After about two miles, the trail turned out of the valley up onto a ridge. The size and lushness of the vegetation increased on this west-facing slope, and included oak and holly trees and fern ground cover. The trail hear was particularly overgrown and in places was almost a tunnel through the holly bushes. I began to get some view of the distant mountains and, finally, of the peak of Mount Manuel. After another half hour of hiking along the ridge and then ascending a series of switchbacks, I reached a little spur of white rock decorated with a small cairn. The view from this is wonderful, unobstructed for three hundred sixty degree. Looking westward, I could see way below me the headland and beach of Point Sur, and the Pacific Ocean beyond it, shining silver in the sun. Looking eastward, I could see the higher peaks of the Santa Lucia Mountains. And looking south, I could see the Big Sur Valley, where I had hiked yesterday. I could see the trail continuing northward along the ridge and passing a curious “black billboard” (whose purpose I could not guess). I later learned that I was on the false summit and that the actually peak is a little further along and higher up on the ridge. But I did not venture any further north but rather turned about and headed back. The afternoon had turned quite sunny and the walk back was warm and delightful. After about an hour I met a group of college students who were also trying to make the peak and gave them some encouragement. The illumination of the hills one the south side of the Big Sur Valley became particularly splendid as the sun sank lower into the sky. Afterward, I returned to Maiden Publick House for another fish and chips dinner. The moon was shining brightly as I turn in. 5:20.

December 20, 2015. The morning was overcast, with mist and occasional drizzle. I had a breakfast of a breakfast sandwich and coffee, purchased at the little market near the Maiden Publick House. I once again followed the advice of the ranger at Big Sur Station and visited Pfeiffer Beach, at the end of Sycamore Canyon Road. I parked by a grove of conifer trees that grew along the stream and walked a short trail to the beach. A Great Blue Heron was roosting in a tree that overhung the little wetland at the end of the creek, just short of the point where it flowed across the beach. Little, if any, of the water flowed directly into the sea; most sank into the sand. I stood for a while watching the sea crash into – and through – Pfeiffer Rock, a low stack with two small archways. They are alternately clear and full of white foam as the waves pulse through them. I then walked the length of the beach, starting with the southern end, which is just a little past the stream, and walking as far north as was possible, which was not much more than a half mile. The sand of the beach included red streaks of garnet and black streaks of magnetite, deposited by wind and water among the white quartz and is strikingly beautiful. The sea cliffs are of intensely folded grey sandstone and shale. I passed one section with tight anticlinal folds. The beach is littered by long stands of kelp, some as much a twenty feet long, torn from the sea bed and thrown up on the beach by the waves. I came across numerous Gumboot Chitons, a six inch long, pink colored mollusk that had the misfortune of being thrown up as well. Gulls and Turkey Vultures were feasting upon them. I encountered another Great Blue Heron, and some ducks and a Great Egret, too, before the beach became too rocky to further traverse. I returned to Pfeiffer Rock and watched the waves break through it for a few more minutes. 1:30. I then drove north to Andrew Molera State Park, and hiked in the rolling hills and meadows that border the Big Sur River where it flows into the sea. I parked in the main lot and forded the river, trying to step from rock to rock, but getting my feet rather too damp in the process. I first took the River Trail through meadows and low woods, roughly following the Big Sur River and fording it again – this tie barefoot – in two places. This being December, I was unsurprised to find the water, though only a foot deep, icy cold. Coast Redwoods are rare along the trail, but I did pass through two small groves of them. I then took the Hidden Trail uphill onto one of the higher ridges that overlooks the sea, and then the Ridhe Trail that followed the ridge until it descended to beach level. This beach is broadly similar to the one at Pfeiffer beach, with colorful sand and washed-up kelp and chitons, and though it too has a stack, the stack lacks an archway. A surfer was working the waves and several more arrived as explored the beach. Unlike the small stream at Pfeiffer Beach, the Big Sur River makes it to the sea, but not before opening up into a substantial wetland with ducks and Great Egrets. I took the Beach Trail back, fording the Big Sur River for a fourth time, just before reaching my car. 2:00.

December 21, 2015. After a breakfast of a breakfast sandwich and coffee, purchased at the little market near the Maiden Publick House, I left Big Sur Early and head back north, the drive taking about three hours. I caught a showing of In the Heart of the Sea at the AMC Mercado 20 Theatre in Sunnyvale and had a chicken dinner at the nearby Panda Express, before checking into the Motel 6 in Belmont. I flew out of San Francisco Airport early the next morning.