January 25, 2009 Sunol Regional Wilderness

The announcement

After winning another archery tournament on Saturday, I’ll leave here at 9 for another frolic at Sunol. We’ll either go up Indian Joe or Flag Hill and then out to the back 40. Up at the Bench at the End of the Universe, we’ll stop for lunch. I’m fond of fresh fruit, by the way. Not that I’m hinting at anything. Especially I’m not hinting at anything to anyone that might want, say, a ride back with me.

Plan on 3 to 4 hours of hiking in mostly open space. Indian Joe provides almost the only cover. This is an upper end moderate, lower end difficult hike (that’s me trying not to scare Priscilla off).

If it’s raining, we’ll do an alternate plan.

The hike

Last week’s Sunol hike was one that maybe no one there had done with FOMFOK before, except Kathy and myself. And Kathy and I did it in the reverse direction when we did it before. It’s hard to say which way was easier. I know at least two or three of us didn’t get our hiking legs until we finally began the downhill part of the hike. It was a chore and a half to hike up the hill on the cold, bleak day.

Thankfully, Ron took pity on me and suggested a few stops for picture taking. It was easy to stop for things like the big bag of cow bones, which Joanne spotted. But before we reached that spot near our summit we stopped for scenic views, then wildflowers, then cow pies, then odd colored stones, then for bent blades of grass. We were really reaching for excuses to catch our breath before we reached the downhill part.

We mostly saw nobody on the trail until we got near the backpack camp cutoff near the Ohlone Wilderness entrance. Then people began appearing out of thing air. Even a pickup truck with two rangers was not there one second and there the next. I think I heard a small pop as the quantum singularity collapsed which caused them to materialize. Or it might have been my shoe stepping in another cow plop.

We had no end of chances to pick up a pet dog once we got near Little Yosemite. We saw no less than 12 dogs in a mile stretch. And about as many kids. Kids who suddenly became sodden as the sky sprinkled near the end of the hike.

And in our grand tradition, we took any excuse to go out and eat afterwards. We feted Priscilla in absentia, and Paul (in sentia?), who celebrated recent birthdays. Paul is mumble mumble years old and Priscilla is 29, last I heard.

My pictures are here

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