Trip Date: January 26, 2014
Find this SpotYes, no this is not a camp trip, but this was a great excursion nonetheless. My son called during the week and asked if I wanted to go on a hike with him. I was ecstatic and jumped at the invitation to spend some “quality” time with him. We made plans for me to leave my place about 9:00 Sunday morning and pick him up in Davis. As usual, I was a little late, and as usual, he had a massive hang-over and had very little sleep the night before. I was not amused.
It is not uncommon for the young males in our family to be hung over for many a family gathering and sleep through some or much of the event. I understand stuff happens, and parties break out, and it is fun to have some or many beverages with your friends. However, it gets very tiresome when it happens the majority of the times we get together. Both of my children are in their early 20’s so hopefully they will be growing past this stage soon. I am also hopeful that they realize and appreciate the value of family and how much better it is if they are conscious the few times we get together, or the benefit or being “present” when they are around their aunts and uncles, and the very few times they have left to spend a tiny amount of quality time with G’ma. I understand a lot of this perspective only comes to some people with time and age, but it is very disappointing with all the lessons and all the examples of why we all should take advantage of the opportunities we have when we have them and not to count on the next time or later or when I am good and ready. The universe does not always care to wait; the gods sometimes get perturbed with waste and failure, especially when we are perfectly aware of the lessons and still refuse to heed their messages.
However, this is not a sad tale; this is a very good tale, as it turned out. My son was home when I arrived to pick him up, which has not always been the case. Many a time he has been jogging across the parking lot, climbing a fence, lowering himself through a skylight, or slinking about in some other semi-ninja way to give the appearance of being ready to go. It was not difficult to tell by the swelling in his eyes and his generally puffy appearance, that he was not well rested and he did not get to bed early so he would be fresh and alert and energetic for his day with his pop. But, he was there, and we learn to be happy with what we have as opposed to being unhappy about what we don’t.
He had purchased a new sectional sofa for his apartment, so I wanted to check that out and I wanted to be sure my bowels were in tip top shape for the hike, so I spent some time there doing that. This allowed Jordan another couple of seconds face down in his pillow. Soon, it was time to go, and Jordan grabbed his gear, oh wait, he didn’t have anything with him – just the shirt on his back and off we went. It is funny that he has remained good friends with his friend Ben, a wrestling buddy he met when he transferred to Folsom High in his Junior year of high school. Jordan wanted to float the American River for his 16th birthday and invited his buddies he has had since grade school. Ben was the only “new” guy he invited. Ben lived in Folsom, the rest of the gang we picked up in Rancho and drove to the Sunrise River access.
As we were loading up gear and ice chests and life jackets, etc. Ben simply appeared in the parking lot – like a coyote that had been keeping an eye on the ruckus and then finally decided it was safe to come out – in an instant he was just standing next to us. For the raft trip, the BBQ at our house, the sleepover and the next day, Ben had his swimming shorts on and a spare shirt in his hand. He was ready for everything and anything that the next couple days and night could offer. In the six or seven years since that we have known Ben; this is absolutely 100% true.
So it was that Jordan walked out of his apartment and into the truck with nothing – all ready to go. I know we weren’t scaling Shasta or anything, but my Uncle Gil taught us to be prepared, not the Boy Scout kind of prepared, but have what you need (hat, water, snack) what you might need (compass, map, light shell for bad weather) and maybe one or two items for the unlikely but possibility (whistle, first aid, mirror) real food and drinks for the cooler back in the car for when you get back. I attest to the fact that Jordan knows his old man has his shat together and is almost always prepared and so he trusts me to take care of him. I am sure there was some of that, but I am also sure, he was hung like a bad dog and couldn’t afford the brain power to get anything together. It turns out he had also done this hike several other times recently, so he was pretty confident he would just bang it out without the need to prepare.
Jordan was asleep before we got out of Davis, so I let him sleep. No matter, I enjoyed being with him and looking over to see him in the passenger seat, even if he was unconscious – like a little baby in their car seat; you know they are in their own worlds and not really aware you are there, but it still feels great to have them next to you. I did not know where we were going, but I did know we had to go through Winters and I know that there is a fantastic little store there with a great deli, food and beverages for outings, so I figured we would stop there for our grub. When we stopped, Jordan woke up and we went inside to order sandwiches. Continuing his minimalist approach to the day, that was all he got – no water, no drinks, nothing else to eat, which was fine, since I had a cooler stuffed with water, beers, apples, snacks, etc.
I was still wandering the aisles looking for the Hawaiian Sweet Onion chips, so Jordan grabbed both sandwiches and paid for them – cha-ching, a great day was unfolding. We got back in the truck, and my youngest child was again fast asleep, this time, making an effort to recline his seat for a more comfortable and sound sleep. I had an idea of where we were going, but not exactly. Up past the dam, I pulled over to ask the sleeping, snoring, mumbling, drooling child, and he confirmed my suspicion that we had passed the trailhead. Around we went, back to the crowded make-shift parking lot.
We slipped into the open spot right in front of the gate, reading and carefully rereading the sign about not blocking the gate on Mondays. Reconfirming that the day was indeed Sunday, we were good to go. Jordan mowed half his sandwich; like a little child I put his bottle (ba-ba in their youth) right up to his mouth so he could get some water into his surely dehydrated system. He was convinced he neither needed nor was interested in carrying water, snacks, sustenance of any kind, so as I packed my pack with everything we may or may not need for the both of us, he rested his weary and certainly very heavy head on the hood of the truck.
I am certain the saving grace was the fact the this place was a UC Davis property and eighty percent of the hikers this morn were women, and ninety percent of those women were college-aged, and ninety percent of those college-aged women were in fantastic shape. Jordan also is in fantastic shape, and almost never wears a shirt, so I may be way out of line here, but I surmise that all of these healthy girls his age passing in such tight proximity aided his recovery, or perhaps kept him a little dizzy as he tried to get a quick glimpse of each and every one of them as they grazed past us on the steep and narrow course. I, of course, kept my gaze straight as an arrow.
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This spot is called Stebbins Cold Canyon Reserve, adjacent to Lake Berryessa, just before (West of) Monticello Dam on Putah Creek, on the South side of the lake. It is a popular spot, but it is a great hike. You basically have three options; up the steep Blue Ridge Loop Trail on the right side, up the less steep Pleasants Ridge Trail on the left side, or up the Homestead Trail along Cold Creek in the middle. There is poison oak all over the place so staying on the trail is imperative, a few snakes have been known to frequent the area too, but other than that it is a great area to hike in.
With his shirt off and his pants sagging (not too bad or I would have tightened his belt for him as this is one of my biggest pet peeves – just ridiculous), he led us up the path. It was very steep, with many switchbacks and tight turns. Much of it was among a wall of Chemise on both sides of the trail. It wasn’t until we got up higher on the ridge, that the brush gave way to more Manzanita, Toyon, and a variety of Live Oaks. The trail was very rough; the soil was almost pure clay (I did get a “D” in my soils class at HSU, but I think I’m pretty accurate on this one). The clay was broken up only by the many rocks that were exposed by the erosion. I imagine the slightest rainfall turns all of this country to a slick muck.
Fortunately, or not for that matter as we are in the midst of a very bad drought, the soil was bone dry, but not dusty. The sky was blue with some faint wispy high elevation clouds, no wind to speak of – just the slight breeze that is common in canyon country. The temperature was in the mid-high 60’s – just an extraordinary California winter day. I had my shorts on but also a pair of long thin canvas type pants, a short sleeve T-shirt and my Berkeley sweatshirt. I was sweating pretty good all day, but it felt good, it wasn’t too hot or too much, it was just right.
That was pretty much the feeling all day. The hike was steep, but not too steep; the trail was real rough in spots, but not terrible; the trail was narrow and brushy on both sides for most of the way up; but there were lots of open spots up top to stop and enjoy the spectacular views and the mild breeze. The hike was five miles long round trip – just about right. It took us about three hours to do, with plenty of stops to take pictures, have a beverage whilst enjoying the views up top; chat up a few of the co-eds; pet a few doggies, have good discussions; think deep thoughts. All in all it was just right.
Jordan emerged from his coma enough to interact with me up top and on the way down. He saw someone he knew from working at De Vere’s in Davis, he drank more water which helped revive him, and allowed him to become more himself on the way down. When we got back to the truck, he scarfed the other half of his sandwich and we sat in the truck bed having beverages. A real cute girl he was talking to up top walked by and stopped to chat. She just moved out here from DC and had a job at a farm in Rutherford in the Napa Valley. They made jams and jellies for Frog’s Leap Winery – how freakin cool is that. After a bit, she trotted across the road to her car. I was amazed that Jordan didn’t get her number, but apparently he was a bit gun shy from the night before.
Jordan and Ben got on a good bender at the Bull’s the night before (thus the massive hangover). To his credit, they took a cab to Ben’s that night (or morning as it was). Jordan woke up early, drove to his apartment in Davis, and was there when I arrived about 9:30 – so I do appreciate that effort as I can only imagine it was a significant effort and fairly painful. Jordan is used to the sorority girls and bars in Davis, where just about everyone is eligible. In mid-town Sacramento, and most places other than small college towns, it is much more likely that the woman is married, engaged, or otherwise ineligible. This was the case the night before, when Jordan ended up buying drinks and flirting with two married women (neither of whom mentioned that until well into the flirting and after receiving the free drinks – damn women!) and one engaged women (who never gave that up – her friend had to rat her out to Jordan). So he may have been a little more reluctant to pull the trigger than usual, which is not necessarily a bad thing.
However, I suggested he run across the road and get her number. He said she had a ring on but I, with my more veteran eyes, informed him it was the right ring finger – not the left one, suggesting she at least was not signaling that she was ineligible. I know these things get real complicated real fast and I have been out of the scene for a long time (well Ok I was never in the scene having gone to Humboldt and spending my college summers in Covelo, Cedarville, and Stonyford). Maybe I shouldn’t have moved from SF after high school. Anyway, this much I know – you never know until you ask, and no definitely means maybe. Sure enough, he had her digits (yes, I am that hip) in his phone as he returned from her rig, and as she drove by she gave a real cute, sheepish, wave and smile. He said she assumed he was somewhat older than he was, hearing that he was still in college, but we both agreed that a slightly older woman could possibly be a very good thing for him. I will be interested to see if they ever see or talk to each other or if anything materializes from the brief encounter.
All in all, the day with my son was just right.
Find this SpotLake Berryessa Photo Gallery
