Bikes and Hikes in Colorado (Jeff's story)

My friend Jeff Buchman (we go way back - to being aspiring kayak bums at BayCreek 10+ years ago!) describes a short weekend in November when I visited Colorado, where he lives. 

[Nena's comments in italics.]

Saturday, November 16th:

Nena arrived in Denver around 10:00 and we immediately headed up to Fort Collins with two bikes on the car for brunch and brewery tours. We decided to have brunch at Snooze, a local chain that specializes in creative and delicious breakfast and lunch foods. Since there was a 20 minute wait and Nena was hungry from her flight we wandered down to the food co-op and got some wasabi peas as an appetizer [I'm going through a meaaan wasabi kick lately]. On the way back to Snooze we also decided that stopping at the candy store would be a good way to balance out the spice of the peas. Once seated we did order actual food with Nena opting for the Late Harvest Benny (Wilted Swiss chard, fennel and leeks served atop goat cheese and herb polenta cakes with poached Niman Ranch eggs, cream cheese hollandaise and toasted pine nut crumb) and I went for the traditional corned beef hash. Breakfast over, we went to Brian and Emily’s house where we met their chickens and fed them from our hands, with mixed results. [It stabbed me!!]

We headed out on the bikes to visit a few of the dozen or so breweries scattered across Fort Collins. The first stop is the best know: New Belgium Brewery. While we were not able to take the tour (reservations have to be made well in advance), we enjoyed the tasting room and tried a wide variety of beers. The two most interesting ones we sampled were the coconut curry beer that tastes more strongly of Indian food than I ever expected and the sour beer, which I actually like but have been told is an acquired taste [grossss]. When we went back to the bikes to head over to the Odell Brewery we discovered that Nena’s bike fell victim to a goat’s head thorn which has flattened at least eight of my bike tires since moving here [bikes always seem to break the first time I ride them... hmm...]. Brian returned home to fetch the car while Nena, Emily, and I walked our bikes the short distance to Odell’s. We sipped beers on the patio until it started to get too chilly. We crammed two bikes and 4 people into Brian's Subaru Forester and headed home for some amazing home-cooked vegetable enchiladas a la Brian and Emily.

Brian, Emily, Nena, and Jeff posing for a cheesy tourist photo :)

Sunday, November 17th:
It was a brisk yet sunny fall day in Boulder when Nena, Brian, Emily, Katrina the dog, and I decided to go climb a mountain and see some snow because we are in Colorado and that’s what you do. The first hike we tackled was Green Mountain West Ridge Trail starting at Flagstaff Road. We weren’t sure we would be able to do this hike since Flagstaff Road was seriously damaged in the massive September floods, but luckily it had opened up the day before. While the hike is relatively short (2.5 miles, round trip), it has a considerable amount of vertical gain and a starting elevation of about 7,000 feet higher than Nena’s typical 0-30 feet above sea level [subtly telling my I'm out of shape.]. The hike starts on a fairly narrow section of trail, meandering along a ridge through pine forests dusted in snow (the ski resorts 1.5 hours west got 17” of snow that day). The climb begins with the trail pitching up sharply for 375 feet in about ¼ of a mile with some small scrambles and roughhewn stairs along the way. The top of Green Mountain was breezy, but protection from the rocks allowed us to sit and admire the view of Colorado’s Front Range [Colorado is so pretty!]. Being an out and back trail, the return to the car was eerily similar but much more down than up. Back at the car, we enjoyed avocado and drunken cheese sandwiches before heading on to the second hike of the day.

Only a few miles down the road, in the Walker Ranch Open Space overlooking Eldorado Canyon, our second hike featured more wind and less climbing. We decided to keep this hike a bit shorter, at 1.7 miles, as the loop trail is 10 miles and the snow/mud mixture made hiking into the creek bed a bit slippery. Katrina, the suburban dog, faced the frequent mountain bikers with curiosity and fear. We were able to see a train slowing climbing Eldorado Canyon to the continental divide about 30 miles to the west. With sunset approaching, and a persistent wind, we decided it was time to head back to Boulder. [Brrrrrr]

Total Distance Hiked: 4.2 miles

- Jeff Buchman

Dinoflagellate discoveries, sponsored by Bud Light Lime

Today I'm digging into the archives to recount my first true overnight kayak camping trip in California (sad, I know). Beth, Sara, Eddie, Joel, Christina, Brian, Alice, and I camped overnight at Tomales Beach in Tomales Bay. Dane + 2 friends joined us for the Saturday paddle and lunch.

Sponsored by Bud Light Lime.

A few of us hiked up the access road for some wonderful views of the Bay.

Tomales Beach from above. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

Dinner of sauteed veggies and short ribs. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

After a delicious dinner of sauteed veggies and Korean short ribs (great suggestion by Christina), a group of us embarked on a sunset paddle. We promised Christina and Brian that we'd be back in an hour and headed north. It was a cool evening, but the breeze had calmed down (Tomales Bay tends to be very windy in the afternoons). We set our sights on Hog Island, about 1.8 miles north of Tomales Beach. Along the way, Eddie (fellow hydrologist) and I noticed a drop in the water surface and a narrow band of turbulence spanning the Bay. We decided that this was caused by a slight narrowing of the Bay and the outgoing tide. This USGS map shows that this spot, known as Pelican Point, is about 30 meters deeper than the surrounding areas.

Approaching Hog Island at dusk. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

30 minutes later we were still quite far from Hog Island, and dusk was setting in. After a long discussion we decided to continue on, magnetized by the eerie island in the distance. Upon closer inspection, the trees were densely populated by a colony of cormorants and painted white with a thick layer of bird poop. With darkness setting in, the rustling birds and sparse vegetation made the island feel quite spooky.

Cormorants in the tree on Hog Island. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai. Did you know that Hog Island was purchased for $800 in 1906 when the previous owner went bankrupt? What a steal for 2 acres!

As we paddled back, I gradually became aware of my paddle moving through the water with each stroke.  At first I assumed this was my anticipation of returning to the beach, where a warm fire was awaiting us. However, I couldn't seem to take my eyes off my paddle blades, and soon realized that I was experiencing a special Tomales Bay phenomenon: bioluminescence, the production of light by living organisms. In Tomales Bay these organisms are called "dinoflagellates". They are most prolific during late summer and early fall when strong winds cause upwellings (when deep, cold, nutrient-rich water swirls up to the surface). They gather the sun's energy during the day and glow when jostled. This is thought to be a defense mechanism. When I pointed this out to my fellow paddlers, they were skeptical at first. Darkness hadn't set in entirely, and the glow was still very faint. The dinoflagellates tend to cluster in eelgrass beds, which are abundant in the shallower parts of the Bay. When we reached a patch of eelgrass, the water around us began to sparkle with bright green light, and the splashing began! We excitedly returned to the campsite and encouraged other reluctant campers to get back into their cold, damp, kayaks to make their own watery fireworks. It was harder to see the glow from the beach, where headlamps and campfires overpowered the glow. However, simply walking in the wet sand left glowing footprints behind! We stayed in our boats as long as possible, splashing and trying to take pictures of the magical glow until the cold drove us to the brighter campfire.

On trip to Point Reyes two weeks later, many of us saw the bioluminescence in another form. As we stood on the beach at Coast Camp (on the west side of the peninsula), flashes of green light lit up the shoreline with each crashing wave.

The next morning we packed up our tents and began the long paddle back. The wind was strong, and we were relieved to finally reach the parking lot. 

Boats loaded up and ready to go home. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

The overnight crew! Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

Date: Saturday/Sunday August 13-14th, 2013
Time: 2 days!
Distance ~ 11 miles (very rough)

Post-Turkey Sponyaking

Chiddling = Chill paddling
Sponyaking = Spontaneous kayaking
Imprompaddling = Impromptu paddling

It's my favorite kind of day on the water. Never planned more than a day in advance. Simple logistics, slow pace, and good friends (none of this organized crowd-yaking with strangers nonsense). It's the kind of paddle when your PFD is the perfect beer holder. There is no purpose, destination, or expectation, so only pleasant surprises remain.

The day after Thanksgiving I made the trek from North Berkeley to the Kayak Hotel in Oakland. Sadly, it was the first time I've seen my boat since moving to Berkeley two months ago. On this warm sunny morning, I rolled Big Purple down to the docks, dropped her into the water, and took off for CCK. With my iced coffee (not beer!) strapped to the front deck with bungee cords, I looked like a true city girl.

Ten minutes later I arrived at California Canoe & Kayak, the local kayaking shop where I was meeting Doug and his family (bother, sister, and 8-year old nephew). I bobbed about, sipping on my coffee and enjoying the kayak shop atmosphere. When Doug & co. arrived, they loaded into two red tandems and we headed west, towards San Francisco.

Somewhat surprisingly, paddling in the heavily developed Oakland Estuary is never boring. While it's not the sort of isolated outdoor adventure some might desire, it's always fun to gawk at the massive cargo ships, stacked high with shipping containers from across the ocean. Even with the holiday, the cranes were working hard, dangling the packed containers perilously over our heads (ok, not quite over). Three crowded ferries plowed by us, filled with happy consumers excited for the Black Friday deals awaiting them across the Bay. Their wakes reflected from both sides of the channel and lifted us high in the air. In lieu of any photos, here's an awesome link where you can see real time locations of ships in San Francisco Bay.

8-Year-old Daniel and I embarked on a garbage-collection competition. It didn't take long before Big Purple was stacked with 50 cans and potato chip bags. When I offered my stack to Daniel to make the competition more fair, he didn't fall for my trick. So I guess I won?

We made it all the way to the mouth of the Estuary, between the airfield and Middle Harbor Shoreline Park, which apparently hosts concerts in the summertime (on the to-do list). We applied sunscreen, ate some snacks, and turned back towards Oakland.

The route, starting in the estuary and paddling out to the Bay. In this map you can also see Lake Merritt. I lived on the east side of the Lake for two years before moving to Berkeley two months ago.

Date: Friday November 29th, 2013
Time: ~2 hours
Distance ~ 7.5 miles

Thanks to Jeff for a much needed kick-in-the-pants to update the blog. I've skipped quite a few wonderful paddling trips, but it's always easier to start with a simple one :). Stay tuned for a guest post from Jeff in a week or so!