This was one of the days that frightens off the nognoscenti -- grey, foggy and overcast in both the East Bay and San Francisco. Under such conditions, many people decide that terrible things are about to happen, and huddle at home. For my part, I simply downloaded the latest weather information, including the GOES Enhanced IR photo (less than an hour old) of the Eastern Pacific, including California, and convinced myself that, even here in the depths of winter, this grey, foggy overcast stuff was nothing but ... grey, foggy overcast stuff (the cloud tops as indicated on the GOES picture helped considerably; you could hardly see them, they were so warm and low). So the three of us went.
We drove up the back route through Mill Valley and were still immersed in fog when we reached the Panoramic Highway at the four-way intersection above Muir Woods; but four miles further on, as we crossed the ridge between Bootjack Camp and Pan Toll, we came out into the clear above the fog. Climbing up the summit road past Rock Spring, we got our first real look at the sea of fog spread out below us -- a white ocean with hardly an island, under a sunny blue sky above.
There is a visitor center by the parking lot below the east summit (the mountain actually has two or three summits along its east-west summit ridge, their heights differing by only a few feet). The center is manned by volunteers; it is small, with the usual selection of trail and nature guides, and also has a nice videotape of the old Mt. Tam railway in action; they will run it for you if you ask. A stop here is worthwhile.
The trail up to the summit is called the "Plankwalk" because it is (partly) made of planks. It starts on the west side of the summit, just east of the parking lot, and circles the mountain clockwise, reaching the top on its east side after one or two zigzags; the planks run out above half way up, and the rest of the moderately steep trail is rocky. The summit contains a fire lookout, closed during the winter but apparently manned during the summer -- one of the few that remain operational, I guess. I suppose that under normal conditions the view would be spectacular; it was spectacular when I was there, too, but in a different way‹nothing but a sea of white cloud for 360 degrees, with "islands" (hills) sticking up through it at a great distance. Of the East Bay I could see absolutely nothing except Mt. Diablo and one tiny island that might have been Volmer Peak back of Berkeley.
It seems on first glance that you can take another trail down, off the south side of the summit, but don't let yourself be fooled; this appears to be the remains of an old, unoffficial trail, use of which is neither recommended nor permitted -- a sign a little below the top refers you back to the Plankwalk, and the trail's outlet down on the Plankwalk is cordoned off. I did, however, see an abandoned pram down by that trail outlet, and a family on the southside of the summit picnicking, so it may be that the restrictions against using this steep unofficial trail are occasionally violated. I don't recommend that you do so (cf. also Spitz, p. 34).
After a visit to the summit, we drove back down toward the fog, stopping, however, well above it at Rock Spring where the parking area seemed rather empty for such a beautiful day. We then set off south along the Old Mine Trail.
I had previously been familiar with the southern end of the Old Mine Trail, which runs from Pan Toll south along an east-facing slope through Douglas fir forest to the Dipsea Fire Road; I didn't even know this end existed. It starts across the summit highway from the Rock Spring parking area and climbs as a couple of rutted tracks up along the west side of a beautiful little knoll, from which you can get marvellous views to south and west. Getting to the top demands a detour to the left of the trail, but it's worth it; you can drop down the grassy southeast slope of the knoll and rejoin the trail with scarcely any loss of distance.
A little way down, the trail starts switchbacking through forest; here oaks predominate (tanbarks, I guess). You can easily see the grassy descending south side of the knoll just off to your left all the way down. Eventually, not too far from Pan Toll, you'll reach a junction with the Riding & Hiking Trail, which you'll take to the left.
You can find bits and pieces of the Riding & Hiking Trail in various parts of California; I've hiked along it in Auburn Canyon above Sacramento. Spitz discusses something of its history, and reveals that it was never completed. Here you follow it for less than half a mile. At one point the trail divides, and it is not clear whether you should go left (uphill) or right (level); never fear, just around that next crest the two rejoin. And eventually you drop down to a multiway junction, at the top end of Bootjack Camp, with the Old Stage Road, opposite a small building. Spitz says this is a water chlorination building. When we passed it, a fallen tree, a souvenir of the December 1995 storms, was lying across the Old Stage Road, its top right next to the west side of the building. I presume that it will have been cleared out by the time you get there.
A paved road goes down toward Bootjack Camp from here; the Old Stage Road angles up to the left, not, however, at any great angle. Follow it. From here, you will be out on the open, largely serpentine, southern slopes of the Mt. Tam summit ridge for almost a mile and a half. The Old Stage Road, being a road (of sorts), is wide, level, and not terribly steep. It winds in and out of several stream canyons, where you can stop and get a drink if you care to trust the water. The little canyons above and below the road are mostly wooded, with lots of ferns, including the ubiquitous and impressive woodwardias (chain ferns). There are occasional stands of trees along the Road. Views down and to the south show ... well, they showed us nothing but cloud, which here lapped almost up to our feet and sometimes over us. Views to the north ... well, here you have to tilt your head back and look up toward the top of the ridge, where the old military radomes are prominent; Ridgecrest Boulevard is invisible, but not far distant. It is also almost impossible to make out the Rock Spring Trail from this angle.
The West Point Inn comes into view perhaps half a mile before you actually reach it. This is an old, low building of whose existence I didn't even know until recently; it is privately run, and rents out rooms to those who wish to stay overnight. The telephone number is 388-9955; I'm not sure what Marin's area code is (415, perhaps?). The interior is nicely kept up, and refreshments are made available for hungry/thirsty hikers; I bought a glass of very good lemonade, which I drained quite quickly. You can apparently get there by foot, horse, bike, or even car, though I'm not sure what route you'd take to arrive by that last mode of travel.
All too soon it came time to head back to Rock Spring and our car. To do this, you head back west along the south side of the summit ridge, but somewhat higher up than the Old Stage Road, along the aptly named Rock Spring Trail. As with the Old Stage Road, which you can easily see some distance below you, the Rock Spring Trail crosses mainly open, brushy slope, with occasional small stands of trees or at least bushes so high that they cover the sky. Along the way you cross two outcroppings of serpentine (according to the geological display on the wall at the West Point Inn, this is really "serpentinite"; what the difference is, I don't know); at the second you may find, on the downhill sign, a plaque in memory of John Colier, who considered this his favorite view point, possibly with some justice.
Not long after this you'll come into forest and reenter Mt. Tamalpais State Park (would you believe that for a long time now you've been in the Marin Municipal Water District?). Here watch on your right for huge Pohli Rock, which carries two dedication plaques to men responsible for the birth of the Mountain Theater. One of these was Austin Ramon Pohli, who died at age 20 while rock climbing in Yosemite; he was the first business manager of the Mountain Theater, and in large part responsible for its initial success. The rock is two or three humans high, and climbable from the back; Esther did climb it, but I didn't, so don't know from personal experience whether you can actually watch the plays at the Mountain Theater from its top, as Spitz says you can.
Whatever, the Mountain Theater is only a few steps west of here. This is a huge open-air amphitheater, with rock seats embedded in the turf all up and down the east, north and west sides, and the presentation area ("stage" is probably an inappropriate term) on the south or downhill side. Several plays are put on here every summer, and, parking up on the mountainside being totally inadequate (at a guess the amphitheater could hold a couple of thousand people), shuttle buses run up and down from Mill Valley for the plays. On a sunny winter day -- or one with the sun partially obscured by a thin haze of cirrus (ice-crystal) cloud, as ours had become -- it is a nice place to sit and rest, along with the half dozen other hikers who happen to be there at the same time that you are.
There are six million ways of getting back to Rock Spring from the Mountain Theater. We simply followed the paved path out from the northwest side of the amphitheater to Ridgecrest Boulevard, crossed it, and found the continuation of the Rock Spring Trail. This descends to the southeastern verge of the same meadow that abuts the Rock Spring parking area, only about a furlong away now. Follow the trail west around the north side of the picnic knoll, join with the Simmons and Benstein and Cataract Trails, and in a few moments you are back at your car.
Don Harlow
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The adjoining map is excerpted from "A Rambler's Guide to the Trails of Mt. Tamalpais and the Marin Headlands", 6th ed., published by The Olmsted &Bros. Map Co., P.O. Box 5351, Berkeley CA 94705, tel. +1-510-658-6534. Cost of the entire map is currently 5.95 $US. |
Don Harlow <donh@netcom.com>