The Pinnacles of Our National Parks
By Marc Ricketts
It was early and dark, of that there can be no doubt. I had just left the 101 freeway for two lane Highway 25 and a solid line of headlights bearing down on me with long stretches of nothing in between us and….Holy Mackerel, that maniac just passed me on the shoulder! Well, at least that should be the closest call…..Another One!
Two, TWO different cars passed me on the shoulder? I woke up before dawn for this?
Fortunately things settled down after that as I passed through Hollister. People who walk around with that town’s name emblazoned across their person baffle me, the best thing I saw was a place to buy enough gas to go somewhere other than Hollister. Continuing on I found myself on a much emptier road, and faster than expected I was making the turn towards the nation’s newest National Park, Pinnacles.
Although I’ve made day trips to Yosemite, the older I get, the longer that drive seems. So having a National Park only two miles down the road is a great treat. Although I had visited the west side of the park during its National Monument days, this was my first foray to the east as well as my first hike on the High Peaks trail. These rock formations are the remains of an ancient volcano that was located a couple of hundred miles to the south. Thus is disproven this idea that Southern California will drop into the Pacific millions of years from now when it will, in fact, it will eventually become a suburb of Vancouver.
The sun was still below the horizon when I began my ascent on the Condor Gulch Trail, but there was already plenty of light to see.
Like just about any hiking destination in Northern California, one will be well served by being able to identify poison oak.
It wasn’t long before the sun’s rays, warm and sweet as a Main St. cinnamon roll, were kissing the highest points.
Like the Imagineers, Mother Nature knows how to create vista that work as long shots, medium shots and close-ups.
Directly, I was connected with the High Peaks trail. The trails here are pretty easy to follow. There are several spur trails for climbers, but those tended to be well marked.
And in addition to the peaks that were getting closer with each step, I couldn’t help but look behind me to the cloud enshrouded valleys below and beyond.
From the west side parking lot, the Balconies are high above, but here they were spread below me in all their glory.
As I stopped to enjoy a Pop Tart, I wondered optimistically if the birds in the distance were California Condors. A few decades back, when the only ones remaining were in zoos, it seemed to me that the decent thing to do would be to let them peacefully die out with dignity. And now the population has gone from 22 to over 400, over half in the wild. Boy, was I wrong on this one. But my sighting? Later on the trail I met a man wearing an National Parks insignia on his shoulder. He confirmed that three condors had been spotted at the time and place in question, so I got one correct. Unfortunately, they were much too far away to be photographed, and you are far too clever to fall for a picture of one of the turkey vultures that were closer to me.
At the highest section of the trail, there is the option of passing below the crags on the west side. I, however, continued on the High Peaks Trail despite warnings of steep and narrow sections ahead. I’m used to mountain hiking, and though it didn’t seem a good path for your elderly relative that uses an aluminum walker with tennis balls stuck on the legs, there was nothing too bad. Oh, sure, some steps cut into the rock, but that’s common.
Then I came around a rock to be confronted with this.
So, OK, sure; tiny holes for the toe of my boot to ascent the 80 degree rock, I get it now. Like the time I ascended the Half Dome cables, I knew I would never fall. If I had a fatal medical moment, they would have the option of amputating my dead hand, or cutting the cable where I held it and splicing it back together, but even in death I was not going to be letting go. And it was a quick section, but one where falling would certainly be a questionable strategy. Even the tiny wooden bridge presented a deceptive moment of ease because it was necessary for your humble narrator to practically crawl across, and even then the rock above was giving my day pack a good scraping.
During my descent, I took the short detour to Bear Gulch Reservoir. I confess the name gave me pause, and I wondered if I was going to be looking at some industrial age concrete monstrosity restraining a free flowing stream, but the small rock dam originally built by the Civilian Conservation Corps to provide water for themselves during trail blazing and other work they did in the area was nearly as charming as a castle drawbridge.
It didn’t take long to realize that the water would inundate Bear Gulch below, and with that being the route I was going to be taking, I was suddenly much more aware of the importance of same dam integrity. The Gulch is actually filled with rubble and debris, but that’s alright in this case. Just below the dam you enter the Talus Caves of Bear Gulch.
Unlike the water carved limestone show caverns of Appalachia or as found in Carlsbad Caverns, these caves were formed by all of the boulders that have fallen into the chasm over the centuries. Due to a breeding colony of bats, part of the cave is closed for all but one or two weeks of the year, but I had timed my visit perfectly to explore the full length. A flashlight is needed to navigate safely, and there is a reason that cavers wear hard hats. A good reason. Really, good, reason.
Essentially one is either going up or down a stream channel, so it would be difficult to get completely lost, but a couple of drop offs could lead to a fall with final consequences. The darkest areas have arrows painted along the way as guides.
I emerged into the light below the peaks that were under my feet just a short while ago. The small lot at the cave trailhead was full, even on a mid-week day with schools in session. Along the way back to the lot with my car were several basic picnic areas, each with a grill and table set among the trees.
The small campground had a few choice tent spots, but most campers are in RVs. Many sites had electrical hookups; this is rare in the National Park System, but this was previously a privately owned campground.
Even those without the desire to reach the High Peaks can see them at a distance with these viewers near the park entrance, including a low unit for wheelchair users.
And even after I was beyond the boundary, it turns out that the immediate area provides quite a scenic drive in daylight hours.
I thought hard about buying a shirt at the Visitor’s Center, but decided to make absolutely sure I’d have another reason to return to Pinnacles National Park in the future and purchase it then.
Things to keep in mind: both the trail through the talus cave as well as the highest sections I encountered were certainly safe as long as one stayed aware of the surroundings. However, this may not be the best hike for the younger adventurers. Fortunately, there are also talus caves on the west side of the park which are easier to navigate, but still require caution and a light.
It should also be mentioned that the Pinnacles are prime snake habitat; most are harmless but if there’s a rattle at the back, there are fangs in the front. Rattlesnakes use venom to get food, and really don’t want to waste any on us. Watch where your hands and feet go, especially April through June when they emerge from hibernation, and you should be fine.
For more information go to www.nps.gov/pinn
April 17 and 18 is opening weekend for 2015 National Parks Week with free admission to all National Parks. More information is here: http://www.nps.gov/findapark/feefreeparks.htm
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