A Dry Day in A Wet Place (Steep Ravine, 2/22)

If you are going to ask the weather gods to smile and frown on you during a single day of winter hiking in Marin, make your entreaties when you plan to do the Steep Ravine-Dipsea loop from Highway 1 up the side of Mount Tam and back again. Pray for rain on the way up when the forest canopy provides maximum shelter from the worst weather, and streams endlessly cascade down Steep Ravine.  Pray for sunshine on the way down when there is a glorious panorama that sweeps all the way from Mount Diablo near Walnut Creek, across the Marin Headlands to the northern side of San Francisco, south along the coast, westward to the Farallon Islands, and back toward Stinson Beach and Bolinas.

Normally when we do this hike every year in mid-February half our weather wishes come true:  It rains.  Hopefully, all of the potential precipitation will have been wrung out of the dishrag-gray clouds hanging over Pantoll by the time we have huffed and puffed our way up the mountain and are ready for our lunch break.  If Lady Luck is hiking with us, we will be able to cross the wide open spaces from the end of the Old Mine Trail to the Dipsea steps without getting drench, even if rain continues to fall later in the afternoon.

This year, the blast of foul weather that hit Marin the previous Friday and Saturday had blown through and out of the Bay Area by the time we began our hike.  Temperatures were cool, but the sun shone brightly from hike’s beginning to end.  The good weather produced a good turnout and the youngest person to join us meandering:  Five-year old “Hazelnut” (aka Alexandra).  (Her older brother, Pierre, came, too).
 
Mugwort and Giant Trillium were among the plants we discovered along the first section of the trail.  A banana slug was having brunch on a particularly tasty mushroom as we passed by.

After 0.8 miles and 45 minutes we reached the intersection where down-bound Dipsea Race runners veer sharply to the north and head toward the finish line at Stinson Beach.  We turned right, descended a short leg to the bottom of the ravine, and continued uphill towards Pantoll, 1.7 miles away.

About five minutes later we reached the bridge where the Dipsea Trail drops down into Steep Ravine; we’d end up making that crossing just before three o’clock that afternoon.  Now another wooden structure lay across over path:  The 10’ high ladder that lets hikers ascended the steepest part of Steep Ravine, another 0.8 miles and 45 minutes walk to the east.

Miniature Niagara and Bridelveil Falls step their way down from Pantoll, paralleling the narrow trail that leads up the mountain’s flank. Water that was born in the heavens over Tam rushed headlong toward the sea as we crawled skyward.  Redwood violet, fetid adder’s tongue, Calypso orchids, and fern after fern, lined the banks.

Shortly after noon we topped out at Pantoll.  The warmth of the sun-heated hillside next to the parking lot encouraged most of us to lunch there even though there was ample space for al-fresco dining at the picnic tables where temperature in the shade hovered around a chilly 50 degrees.
 
A half hour later we were back on our feet, walking southward through the trees along the Old Mine Trail until we emerged into the open, and swung west onto the Dipsea Trail.  We could see snow on Mount Diablo knowing that the weather forecast for later in the week could have turned our immediate surroundings into a Winter Wonderland, too.

Butterflies flitted across the meadows.  Hazelnut had fun splishing and splashing in a muddy rivulet adjacent to the trail.  Footsteps of Spring told us that a seasonal change was beginning to creep up on us.

At 2 o’clock we passed a rock on which a bronze plaque marking mile-five of the Dipsea Race had been attached sometimes since we hiked this route last year.  From here we could see as far as the Farallons to the northwest.  Ships tracked their way toward the Golden Gate across a sea shimmering with sunlight.

A Cooper’s Hawk patiently eying the chaparral for a mid-afternoon snack finally flushed a small bird from the bushes and into the trees where it’s fate remained hidden from our view as we began our downward spiral along the steep steps of the Dipsea.  Walking down this staircase is hard enough on the knees; running down it must pummel one’s spinal discs as well.

Near the bottom we mistakenly followed the Dipsea runners path towards Stinson Beach, then realized our error, and back-tracked into the lower end of the ravine.  At 3:17 pm, five hours and twenty-odd minutes and 5.5 miles after starting out, we were back at Highway 1.
 

Little Hazelnut had hiked the entire route, ascending and descending over 1,100’ each way, never complaining, and without being  carried as much as a single inch of the way by her mother, Nina.