Hertfordshire & North Middlesex Area of the Ramblers' Association
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Yosemite and Redwood National Parks, California
Jennifer Blain
In the summer of 2007 I fixed to swap my home in North London and spent August and September in San Francisco where the sun shone every day.
I was keen to see some of rural California during my stay and, although I didn’t do that much advance planning, I did Google the Sierra Club, America’s powerful outdoor recreation and conservation organisation. And it quite transformed my trip from “wonderful” to “unforgettable”.
Their head office assured me that all activities were open to everyone and were free of charge. They also put me in touch with the website of the club’s Bay Area chapter which had a huge programme full of hikes and longer trips. To my relief, all activities had e-mail contacts and a good number also had car pool arrangements so I was able to set up my first day out before I left London.
San Francisco, I quickly realised, is quite small (just over half a million) on the end of a peninsula, but around San Francisco bay are another five or so cities – including Oakland, Berkely and Palo Alto. I was still very new to the city by the time of my first outing so, of course, there was much slightly nervous planning beforehand. Not only did I have to catch the train going in the right direction but I had no idea what walking on a Californian summer’s day would be like. Things got better when I met up with the day’s leaders, Guy and Nancy, who immediately put me at my ease. Like several of the people I encountered they themselves had walked in the UK with HF Holidays. I soon discovered that the other people in the car were reassuringly like my friends in the Ramblers.
Guy and Nancy, walk leaders at Point Reyes park
I welcomed the sea breeze and some clouds that made the day’s walk through coastal bush very pleasant as someone named birds to me and someone else showed me how to spot the ankle catching poison ivy and others patiently answered my many questions. I spent several miles chatting with a ditzy-seeming, fluffy haired little blonde lady. It turns out that solo backpacking in the wilderness was her passion. So much for appearances.
One friend I made worked with the Desert Survivors, a voluntary organisation working to protect desert habitats. She kept fit in between trips by long walks up the city’s famous steep hills. Much more pleasant than walking up the escalators on the tube! The day ended at a really simple organic restaurant in Bolinas, a tiny fishing village that is so determined to remain undiscovered that every time the authorities put up a road sign, the residents take it down. I eventually arrived back in SF dusty, replete and contented (oh, and proud of myself). My diary reminds me of several similar days – a hike through the Redwood National park past many breathtakingly huge trees, followed by supper in a Chinese restaurant; a Sunday walk in San Francisco’s Presidio area (originally the barracks of the first Spanish settlers), followed by a delicious meal in an inexpensive French bistro and so on.
The Sierra Club’s newsletter also introduced me to conservation projects, and I spent several thoroughly enjoyable days working with SF Parks staff and neighbourhood volunteers in some of the wilder hilltops within the city limits. Indeed I had such good fun that, when I got back home, I started volunteering with BTCV here in London.
During my stay I had two particular desires; to visit Yosemite National Park and to see giant sequoias. I achieved both. Before I left London I booked a three night camping trip that included a fair amount of walking with San Francisco based Incredible Adventures. Accommodation in the park is allocated by annual ballot so, like most visitors, we stayed outside the park and drove in each day. We were a grand group of Europeans and, being a local company, a couple of San Franciscans. Lo and behold, our first leg stretch after we entered Yosemite was a short walk down a steep valley to see the sequoias in Tuolumne Grove. I realised how hot it was and how steep the path, when I puffed back up to the minibus.
In California 2007 was a dry summer following a dry winter and forest fires a constant concern. On our second day a small fire in Yosemite closed roads, filled the narrow valleys with smoke and smell and the air with the noise of fire-fighting helicopters. Our walk was up the valley side to Glacier Point, well above the tree line. The heat was strapped in the narrow valleys, the sun bounced off the bare granite rocks and I understood why my fellow walkers carried serious water panniers on hip belts. My small English sunhat, heavy boots and litre bottles of water weren’t really fit for purpose.
Group photo among the redwoods
In between trips, exploring SF on foot kept me fit. The steepest hill open to traffic is a scary 1 in 3 and, when the pavements get too steep, long flights of stairs take over. The city’s library service runs a huge variety of docent-led walking tours every day and, when the need for sea breezes becomes urgent, you can walk for miles along the coast on either side of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Glacier Point, Yosemite National Park
