Dana Lake

Mount Dana and the Dana Glacier rise above Dana Lake

5.5 miles loop, 1800 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Strenuous, route-finding and rock scrambling required
Access: Paved road to trailhead, no fee required

Although Glacier Canyon and its chain of lakes are just a stone's throw from the Tioga Pass entrance of California's Yosemite National Park, this area of Inyo National Forest receives fairly little attention despite its stunning alpine scenery, which encompasses not only deeply colorful Dana Lake and four smaller lakes but also tumbling waterfalls, meadows, stark plateaus, and the remnant of a once-mighty glacier, all under the shadow of Mount Dana's majestic pyramidal peak. The trail is tough: the ascent from Tioga Lake up to Glacier Canyon is punishingly steep and there's no formal trail that leads across the steep scree slopes of Glacier Canyon to Dana Lake, meaning that scrambling and route-finding skills are absolutely essential. While an ascent up the canyon to the lake and back is the most straightforward path to Dana Lake, a loop return via the trail up to Dana Plateau makes for a more rewarding day hike. This isn't a hike for novices, but experienced hikers looking for a quiet and beautiful alternative to the bustling trails in Yosemite will enjoy this rocky hike to Dana Lake.

The entirety of this hike is at high altitude, with the trailhead at about 9800 feet above sea level and Dana Lake itself at nearly 11200 feet above sea level. Be on the lookout for signs of altitude sickness if you have not had time to acclimate prior to the hike.

While there is technically no fee to park at the trailhead, many hikers will arrive via Tioga Road from Yosemite National Park and thus will have to pay the Yosemite entrance fee. The only way to avoid paying the fee is to approach on Highway 120 from Lee Vining and not entering Yosemite National Park.

I hiked to Dana Lake during an early October visit to the Sierra Nevada, before Tioga Road closed for the year. The trailhead is deceptively simple to reach: it is simply a three-quarter mile drive east of Tioga Pass at the eastern entrance to Yosemite National Park. Hikers coming from the Central Valley should follow Highway 120 through Yosemite and will reach the Tioga Lake Overlook, a pullout on the right side of the road, shortly after crossing Tioga Pass. Hikers approaching from Lee Vining will find the pullout on the left side of Highway 120 as the road climbs up alongside Tioga Lake, but before reaching Tioga Pass. The trailhead has a pit toilet and enough parking for at least 20 cars. The trailhead is typically accessible between June and October most years, although abnormal snow conditions can shorten that window.

From the trailhead, I followed the unmarked trail that led downhill right behind the pit toilet. This trail made a short but steep descent through the forest and quickly dropped to the shore of Tioga Lake. Less than a hundred meters from the trailhead, the trail came out into the open and there were clear views of Tioga Lake with broad and rocky Tioga Peak rising across the lake; a pointed ridge of Mount Dana rose in front of the trail. 

Tioga Lake at sunrise

Three hundred meters from the trailhead, I crossed the inlet stream to Tioga Lake. At this point, I came to a wooden sign pointing the way to Dana Lakes and Glacier Canyon; I followed the sign, which soon led me into the forest and the ascent up to Glacier Canyon. After crossing the creek that flows out from Glacier Canyon, I began the uphill climb, which generally followed the creek and steepened the further up that I went. The steep and direct trail here was made slightly better by the very pretty cascading creek, which was often decorated with nascent fall color in the forest understory.

Creek in Glacier Canyon

After 750 feet of elevation gain over three-quarters of a mile since leaving the shore of Tioga Lake, the trail finally flattened out for a brief breather as it came to the lowest of the meadows in Glacier Canyon. Late in the season, the meadow was golden in the morning light and the impressive wall of Mount Dana rose above the canyon, although the summit of Mount Dana was not visible.

Meadows in Glacier Canyon

At 1.25 miles, the trail flattened out as I entered a long and flat, meadow-filled valley. From the edge of this elevated valley, I had spectacular views to the north of Mount Conness and North Peak.

View towards Mount Conness

The trail skirted the left side of the meadow in the valley and after about a hundred meters it turned left and began to head uphill through a talus slope. At this point, the established trail was heading for the Dana Plateau; to get to Dana Lake, I left the trail and continued traveling cross-country up the bottom of the valley. There was no established trail here and for the most part no clear social path, either; however, the path was fairly straightforward since I was just following the creek upstream.

At 1.7 miles, the flat meadows ended and I came to a talus slope at the treeline. The first of the Dana Lakes lay behind the talus slope. I scrambled up the loose rock and then trekked across an ensuing flat stretch of talus to reach the first of the Dana Lakes at about 2 miles into the hike.

Scrambling across a talus slope towards the first of the Dana Lakes

The first of the Dana Lakes (or Dana Lake No. 1) was small but had an absolutely stunning turquoise color: the color was more remniscent of glacier-fed lakes of the Northwest or the Rockies than of the more typically blue lakes of the Sierra Nevada. The color was indeed a result of glacial melt: the Dana Glacier lies above the main Dana Lake and melt from the glacier gives the Dana Lakes their unique and astonishing color.

Dana Lake No. 1

Dana Lake No. 1 was hemmed in on three sides by steep talus slopes. Reaching the other lakes required surmounting these slopes, which rose 250 feet above this first lake. At first glance, it was not too obvious what the easiest route would be; it was clear that no routes would necessarily be "easy" here. I chose to scramble up the slopes to the north of the lake, but in retrospect believe that this was a mistake: the upper stretches of this slope were quite treacherous and put me in a few positions with non-trivial exposure. It's likely that simply going up the slope at the far (east) end of the lake would've made the most sense and been easier, but as I did not follow that route, I can't vouch for it. I ended up having to do some Class 3 rock scrambling but I think it's likely that a Class 2 route exists up this talus. All I can say here is that the north wall felt like a bad choice once I was halfway up that scramble! 

Regardless, once atop this second talus slope, I headed east along a flat table of scree to reach Dana Lake No. 2 at 2.3 miles (mileages are estimates in the scramble portion as there is no set route). Dana Lake No. 2 was also quite small and shallow and had the same brilliant color of the first lake; additionally, Dana Lake No. 2 featured the first views of Mount Dana's great summit pyramid. Dana is the second highest peak in Yosemite National Park and it is the first 13000-foot peak of the Sierra Nevada when coming from the north. Dana's eastern face is extremely impressive but is typically not visible from any road-accessible area as the Dana Plateau blocks off views of the east face from the Mono Basin. This hike up Glacier Canyon to Dana Lake is a rare place to actually study this great rock face.

Mount Dana rises over the second of the Dana Lakes

I skirted the north side of Dana Lake No. 2 and then crossed a rocky isthmus between Dana Lake No. 2 and Dana Lake No. 3, which was very close by. I skipped over a closer look at Dana Lake No. 3 for the moment, instead climbing up the rocky moraine behind lakes no. 2 and 3 to head towards the main lake of the basin, referred to as Dana Lake No. 4 in some sources and alternatively just Dana Lake in others.

Once I was atop the spine of the moraine at 2.5 miles into the hike, Dana Lake came into view, nestled at the head of Glacier Canyon with Mount Dana's great east face towering above and the Dana Glacier cradled at the foot of Dana's cliffs. Dana Lake was much deeper than the previous lakes and thus had a much deeper blue color that almost appeared like a beautiful ink.

Mount Dana and Dana Glacier over Dana Lake

There were excellent views of the lake from the lakeshore already, but to get a clearer overview of the lake and the Dana Glacier, I chose to scramble up to a large boulder a hundred feet above the lake's northeast shore that had tremendous views of the lake itself, Mount Dana, and back out Glacier Canyon to Mount Conness.

Dana Lake

The Dana Glacier once filled the entire back of the basin at the head of Glacier Canyon and nearly reached down to Dana Lake when European American observers first documented the glacier in the late nineteenth century. It has since shrunk over 90 percent, with just a sliver of ice left at the base of Mount Dana itself. In the past few decades, it retreats further almost every summer, and the glacier is likely to disappear entirely in a matter of years, a victim of climate change. It is possible to continue scrambling southeast through the talus along Dana Lake until reaching the moraine at the toe of the glacier, but after so much scrambling to reach Dana Lake itself, I was in no mood for an extended hike across talus.

Dana Glacier above Dana Lake

After getting my fill of glacier and lake views, I retraced my steps down the moraine from Dana Lake to the isthmus between Dana Lakes No. 2 and 3. Here, I departed from the route that I had taken on the way up to complete a loop with the last two lakes and briefly visit the Dana Plateau. After crossing the isthmus, I followed the western shore of Dana Lake No. 3 scrambling along its rocky shoreline until I got to the northwestern corner of the lake.

Dana Lake No. 3

Dana Lakes No. 3 and No. 4 were sequential lakes in a shallow, rocky gully; once I passed the end of the third lake, I continued following the rocky gully for two hundred meters and reached Dana Lake No. 4 at just over 3 miles into my hike. Past Dana Lake No. 4, the gully opened up into a rocky shelf; I continued traveling down this relatively flat (though rocky) shelf until it ended at 3.3 miles.

At this point, the shelf merged into a steep talus slope that overlooked the flat meadows of Glacier Canyon that I had hiked through earlier in the day. The Dana Plateau rose above and to the right. Here, I had to cross scramble about a tenth of a mile across the steep talus slope, angling slightly upwards as I moved forward so that I ascended about 50 feet and reached the flat top of the Dana Plateau, at about 3.4 miles from the trailhead.

View back towards Mount Dana and the basin of Dana Glacier

Looking back from the rim of the Dana Plateau, I had a sweeping view down into Glacier Canyon. While I could no longer see any of the lakes, this viewpoint still allowed me to see the glacier at the base of Mount Dana.

I encountered the first trees that I had seen in hours on the plateau. I traveled north, heading in a direction perpendicular to the rim of the plateau. After passing through the trees, I came to a large and flat meadow, where I spotted the Dana Plateau Trail on the other side of the meadow. I crossed the meadow and finally rejoined a formal trail at 3.6 miles into my hike.

Trail across Dana Plateau

The Dana Plateau is a large and flat subpeak that is connected to the much higher Mount Dana; the trail heading towards the right led to the top of the plateau, while the trail to the left led back down to Glacier Canyon and the trailhead. While I've heard great things about the views of Mount Dana and Mono Lake from the Dana Plateau, I was short on time so I chose to head left and begin my return down to Glacier Canyon.

The trail stayed just briefly on the flat plateau before beginning its descent, dropping first gradually and then steeply down a rocky gulch. At the top of the descent, there was a unique view across the ridge of Gaylor Peak into the Yosemite National Park high country. I could see many of the peaks in the Tuolumne Meadows area, including Unicorn Peak in the Cathedral Range and Mount Hoffman and Tuolumne Peak.

View across Tioga Pass towards Mount Hoffman and the Cathedral Range

The descent became quite steep as the trail plunged about 500 feet downhill from the Dana Plateau to reach the meadows at the bottom of Glacier Canyon. At the bottom of the hill, now just over 4 miles into my hike, I came to the point where I had left the Glacier Canyon Trail in the morning to get to Dana Lake No. 1, closing the loop. The final 1.4 miles brought me down along the stream back to Tioga Lake and then the trailhead.

The hike to Dana Lake is an excellent High Sierra outing that sees limited visitors despite being so close to Tioga Pass and Yosemite National Park. I saw a handful of other hikers on my hike, almost all of them headed to Dana Plateau rather than the lakes. The necessity of some Class 2 to 3 rock scrambling and navigation skills means this hike is not for everyone. But those with the confidence and skills to tackle this hike will see some of the Sierra Nevada's most stunningly colored lakes and may have a chance to catch a once-great glacier before it takes its final bow.

Snow Mountain

Southerly views from the summit

16 miles round trip, 4300 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Strenuous, stream crossing involved
Access: Narrow paved road to trailhead, no fee required

Snow Mountain is the first peak of California's Coast Range north of San Francisco to exceed 7000 feet in elevation and thus is a particularly prominent mountain in the range; its name derives from the fact that the peak is usually snow-covered through the winter and spring and it is the northern namesake landmark of Berryessa-Snow Mountain National Monument, which was established in 2017. These factoids about Snow Mountain may make it an appealing destination; the summit itself, however, is hardly worth the effort necessary to reach it. The approach from the Deafy Glade trailhead is long, grueling, and frequently very hot and passes through ghastly areas that were incinerated by the Ranch Fire in 2018. Summit views are nice, but Snow Mountain is ultimately far from being a scenic highlight in a state that is home to the Trinity Alps, the Cascades, the Santa Lucia Range, and the High Sierra. Hikers who love tagging notable high points may still find this hike rewarding, but most hikers will find better value hiking elsewhere in the state.

The trail from Deafy Glade requires crossing Stony Creek; the level of the creek can be quite high in spring and may make the hike less safe or even impassable. I hiked in July and found the creek level to be fine; in most years, the creek crossing should be manageable in May or later, although you should check the latest conditions before hiking.

The hike consists of four major portions: an initial mile of relatively flat hiking from the Deafy Glade Trailhead to Stony Creek, three miles of morale-busting ascent after the creek crossing that form the bulk of hike's uphill, a little over 2 miles of continued ascent along the Summit Springs Trail through the 2018 Ranch Fire burn area, and a final mile and a half through a subalpine landscape to the summit.

The trailhead for Snow Mountain is a surprisingly long drive from the Bay Area: it's about a 3.5 hour drive from San Francisco. To reach the Deafy Glade Trailhead from I-5, I left the freeway at Exit 586 and followed the Maxwell Colusa Road west through the town of Maxwell, at which point it turned into the Maxwell Sites Road. I followed the road into the mountains and then through the town of Sites, at which point it turned into Sites Lodoga Road. Sites Lodoga Road traveled through the mountains for 14 miles to reach Lodoga, where I turned right onto Lodoga Stonyford Road. Another 8 miles along this road through a broad valley brought me to Stonyford, where Lodoga Stonyford Road ended at its junction with Market Street next to the Stonyford General Store. Turning left onto Market Street, I headed north just two blocks before turning left again onto Fouts Spring Road. The final 13 miles of driving were along Fouts Spring Road, which entered the Coast Range and became extremely windy, taking about 40 minutes to travel. The road remained paved the entire time and I arrived at the trailhead, a small pull-off on the right side of the road, just under a mile after passing the Dixie Glade Campground. The trailhead is not well marked, there is limited parking, and there are no restrooms, as this is an off the beaten path hike. 

The Deafy Glade Trail followed a road trace west from the Deafy Glade parking area, staying level and contouring along the side of the mountain through the forest as the Fouts Spring Road continued ascending just uphill from the trail. Although road traces are generally easy to follow, the trail here was extremely brushy throughout and overgrown in parts, making it both a challenge to move through the vegetation and at times a little hard to follow. I recommend long pants to avoid picking up ticks here. The first mile of the trail was a very gradual descent as the Deafy Glade Trail traveled towards its crossing of Stony Creek. As I approached Stony Creek, I began to catch glimpses of Deafy Rock, a massive outcrop, across the creek, although there were no clear views of the rock due to the tree cover. The gradual descent steepened on the final approach to Stony Creek and at one mile into the hike I came to the creek.

Stony Creek

The environs around Stony Creek were lush and green, a stark difference from the terrain that would come ahead. The creek is bit too wide and deep to be rock-hopped, so I switched out for some sandals to cross the creek, where the water came up halfway up my calf in July.

After crossing the creek, the Deafy Glade Trail immediately embarked upon the hike's primary climb. After curving into a small ravine, the trail used a direct and brutal angle of ascent to gain the crest of a minor ridge. The trail then followed the backbone of this ridge directly uphill and quickly lifted me above the creek. At one point early along this ascent, a social trail branched off to the right that led to a rare view of massive Deafy Rock rising above the forested valley of Stony Creek.

Deafy Rock

A third of a mile and 300 feet of ascent after crossing Stony Creek, the trail came to an open meadow surrounded by trees. The trail skirted the eastern side of the meadow all while ascending and I spotted a handful of wildflowers that had bloomed into July; it was clear that the area would've been greener and sported more flowers earlier during the year. After the northeastern corner of the meadow, the trail turned sharply uphill and began the soul-sucking ascent up Morale Buster Hill. 

Meadow near Deafy Glade

Over the next 1.2 miles, the trail ascended nearly directly up the slopes of Snow Mountain. The trail through the forest here was often brushy and I almost lost it on one or two occasions, but its general route along the top of a minor ridge made it a bit easier to relocate when I lost the path. It's best to do this hike as early in the morning as possible during the summer, because this ascent can become quite hot later in the day. This was one of the more brutal ascents that I've dealt with in California and a big part of the reason I classified this hike as being strenuous.

At 2.6 miles from the trailhead and more than 1500 feet of uphill, I got some slight relief from the intensity of the ascent as the trail began to switchback with a slightly more moderate grade. The uphill didn't stop, though, continuing through a set of switchbacks until the trail gained the South Ridge of Snow Mountain at 4.2 miles and came to its junction with the Summit Springs Trail.

By the time I reached the junction with the Summit Springs Trail, I had traveled just over half of the distance from the Deafy Glade Trailhead to Snow Mountain's summit but had completed nearly 2500 feet of elevation gain. From the manzanita-covered ridge, there were the first significant views of the hike, encompassing the peaks of the Coast Range to the south and to the west as well as the Central Valley to the east and High Rock above. I took the right fork at the junction to follow the Summit Springs Trail north towards Snow Mountain; the left fork led downhill to an alternate trailhead that is much makes for a much shorter hike to Snow Mountain but requires much more driving and a 4WD vehicle to access.

Summit Springs Trail

I followed the Summit Springs Trail north along a ridge with wide open views, continuing to ascend steadily. The openness of the Summit Springs Trail here made the terrain much hotter: in fact, upon leaving the forest of the Deafy Glade Trail, there would be no more extended areas of shade along the hike at all.

After a short stretch of hiking atop the ridge, the Summit Springs Trail peeled off to the west side of the ridge. While the entirety of the terrain of this hike burned in the 2018 Ranch Fire, part of the larger Mendocino Complex Fire, the damage was limited and often non-obvious along the Deafy Glade Trail: however, the upper reaches of Snow Mountain burned intensely and the effects of the fire became obvious along the Summit Springs Trail. At 4.5 miles, the trail turned into a small ravine that was once forested but was now just a graveyard of charred trunks. While brushy vegetation had sprouted in the four years since the fire, it seemed clear that recovery of the full forest would take a while.

Hiking through the burn area of the Ranch Fire

The Mendocino Complex Fire in 2018 was the largest wildfire in California's history when it happened, although it would be dwarfed by the megafires of 2020 and 2021 soon afterwards. Over 450000 acres burned between the Clear Lake area through Snow Mountain; combined with the August Complex Fire in 2020 and the Monument Fire in 2021, nearly every acre of the Coast Range between Clear Lake and the Trinity Alps were torched, a slow-motion conflagration of astounding proportions that illustrates how the climate of these mountains has changed.

Deer amidst Ranch Fire devastation

Numerous switchbacks through the burn area brought me out to the spine of the ridge again. Here, I had a grand view of High Rock, an outcrop that marked the southern end of the higher elevation cluster of hills and peaks around Snow Mountain. Beyond High Rock, I could see back out to Central Valley and the Sutter Buttes, a tiny, circular collection of hills in the heart of the valley between Yuba City and Oroville. On a clear day, it would be possible to see the Sierra Nevada and spot peaks like the Sierra Buttes, but the day of my hike was a standard summer day, meaning that a layer of haze covered the Central Valley and restricted longer-range views to the east.

High Rock and Central Valley views

The trail flattened out for a brief stretch as it reentered another charred ghost forest. At 5.8 miles, the trail descended slightly and came to a large meadow. A few trees surrounding this meadow had survived the fire, making for a tiny oasis of green in an otherwise barren and charred landscape. During the spring snowmelt, this meadow contains the small Cedar Pond, but the pond had disappeared for the summer by the time of my hike.

Cedar "Pond" amidst the devastation of the 2018 Ranch Fire

The trail skirted the eastern end of the meadow and delved back into the charred forest. I ascended steadily through one small ravine; at the top of that ravine, I came into another burnt ravine and followed it up to a saddle at 6.5 miles.

The extended ascent that started from the crossing of Stony Creek ended here. Reaching the saddle, I could finally see the summit of Snow Mountain for the first time, about a mile north from where I stood. From here onward, the burnt forest thinned out and was replaced by chaparral and subalpine meadows. The trail descended briefly after leaving the saddle and then stayed level for a while as it crossed through a number of clearings with sweeping views east into Central Valley. At 7.2 miles, the trail reached a basin at the base of Snow Mountain's east peak and began ascending again along a small stream.

This was the most scenic part of the hike, with scenery that more closely resembled that of the state's famed alpine regions than the standard Coast Range scenery. There were still many wildflowers blooming in the meadows here and the sparser trees here appeared to have largely escaped the fiery fate of the forest near Cedar Pond. 

Meadow and the Snow Mountain East summit

The Summit Springs Trail led uphill to a saddle between Snow Mountain's East and West summits at just over 7.5 miles. The East Peak was the mountain's true high point, so I turned right and followed the open, rocky ridgeline towards the summit. The trail was not always obvious here but my objective was obvious enough that I knew to make a beeline for the summit along the ridge.

Ridge leading to the summit of Snow Mountain

A few switchbacks assisted the final push to the summit. While the rocky summit looked barren from a distance, I found it brimming with wildflowers when I got closer, which added some much needed color to a landscape that showed too much wildfire devastation.

Wildflowers near the summit

After 8 miles of hard hiking, I arrived at the broad plateau that made up the summit of Snow Mountain East Peak. Walking to the various corners of the plateau, I pieced together a far-ranging panorama of the Coast Range and the Central Valley. The Sutter Buttes, nearby Saint John Mountain, and Mount St. Helena were notable landmarks in the view. On a clearer day, hikers at this summit would likely be able to see the Sierra Buttes, Lassen Peak, and Mount Shasta. The view was lovely, but much of the landscape that I could see was brown from either the summer sun or the Ranch Fire, so it ultimately compared unfavorably to summit views that one can find in the Trinity Alps or the Sierra Nevada. I had the summit completely to myself (in fact, I did not see another human on the trail all day) and had a nice time, but did wonder whether it was worth the intensity of the hike and the summer heat to reach it.

View into the Central Valley and Sutter Buttes from the top of Snow Mountain

View north along the crest of the Coast Range

Looking south towards Mount St. Helena

View towards Saint John Mountain and the Central Valley

Antler Point

View of Halls Valley from the Canada de Pala Trail

9 miles round trip, 1300 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Easy-moderate
Access: Paved but windy road to trailhead, no fee required

The miles of grassy ridges in Santa Clara County’s Joseph D. Grant County Park culminate in the rounded summit of Antler Point, a nearly 3000-foot-high summit that delivers panoramic views of the southern end of California’s San Francisco Bay Area. Although the Twin Gates Trailhead is just minutes from California’s second largest urban agglomeration, the hike to Antler Point has a remote feel as it’s bordered by the oak woods and grasslands of Halls Valley to the west and mighty Mount Hamilton to the east. The open ridgeline walk along the Canada de Pala and Pala Seca Trails to reach Antler Point from the Twin Gates Trailhead is spectacular along the entire course of the hike and best of all, this hike is far quieter than the loved-to-death parks at Mission Peak and Rancho San Antonio. The trail is completely out in the open, making it a nicer hike in the cooler months and a poor fit for hot, dry summer days.

There are two approaches to Antler Point: one is to hike up from the Grant Lake and connect with the Canada de Pala Trail, while the second is to start at the Twin Gates Trailhead and follow the Canada de Pala Trail along a ridgeline for most of the way. I chose to hike to Antler Point from the Twin Gates Trailhead, as the ridgeline route provides sweeping panoramas over the complete course of the hike and has slightly less elevation gain.

I hiked to Antler Point on a sunny late December day, after a recent storm had dropped a dusting of snow atop Mount Hamilton. From San Jose, I took Alum Rock Ave (Highway 130) east into the Diablo Range. Highway 130 became extremely windy as it entered the mountains but straightened out as it entered Halls Valley. After passing the main entrance to Grant County Park, the road became extremely windy again; just over 3 miles past the park entrance, the road came to a saddle and the Twin Gates Trailhead lay on the left (north) side of the road here. There was a small parking lot here with room for about 10 cars and a porta-potty; the $6 Grant County Park entrance fee is not collected at this trailhead.

I passed through a gate to get started on the Canada de Pala Trail, a wide dirt road trace that ascended past an initial grove of oaks onto the grassy crest of a ridge. The trail ascended steadily over the first __ miles along the top of the ridge, passing underneath a set of power lines and passing by a junction with the Yerba Buena Trail at 0.5 miles. Views quickly opened up, with lovely southerly and westerly panoramas covering Halls Valley and the distant Gabilan and Santa Lucia Ranges. El Toro, a small but distinctive peak near Morgan Hill, was easily recognizable from here. Mount Tam made its only appearance of the hike here, appearing far to the north; on the day of my hike, the Bay itself was shrouded in fog all morning even though the higher elevations were clear, so I had a lovely view of Mount Tam rising above a sea of fog.

View over the hills of Grant Park, Mount Tam in the distance

Santa Lucia Range from Canada de Pala Trail

Mount Hamilton soon came into view to the east, rising on the other side of Smith Creek’s canyon. Stormy and cold weather during the days preceding my hike had dusted Mount Hamilton’s summit in snow; the mountain’s fresh white coat matched the domes of the Lick Observatory that cap its summit. Mount Hamilton is the tallest mountain on the southern end of the Bay, reaching 4265 feet, so it receives snow more often than any other South Bay peak.

The Lick Observatory atop snowy Mount Hamilton

At 0.7 miles, the Canada de Pala Trail leveled out as it arrived on the crest of the ridge. The trail undulated with the ups and downs of the ridge over the next mile, with lovely views throughout. The trail stayed to the left of an initial high point along the ridge, passing a small pond to the left; benches placed every mile or so along the trail made for nice stopping points to enjoy the views.

The ridge along the Canada de Pala Trail

After a long stint on the ridge, the Canada de Pala Trail descended towards a saddle, passing a junction with Los Huecos Trail at 1.8 miles. At 2.2 miles, the trail passed a junction with the Halls Valley Trail coming up from the Grant Lake from the left and shortly afterward arrived at the low point along the ridge. From here, the trail followed the ridge as it began rising towards Antler Point to the north, starting the most sustained ascent of the hike with over 400 feet of elevation gain over the next mile. Views down into Halls Valley were especially scenic in this section, with Grant Lake visible beneath the grassy hills bounding the valley to the west and pretty oak woodlands covering the north-facing aspects of the tributary ridges. I was very taken by the wildness of this view, which was accentuated by a bobcat crossing the trail in front of me.

Bobcat in the ridgetop grasslands

At 2.7 miles into the hike, I came to a junction where the Canada de Pala Trail split from the Pala Seca Trail. Here, the Canada de Pala Trail headed off to the left and departed from its ridgetop perch; the Pala Seca Trail took over the ridgetop route instead, branching off to the right. I took the Pala Seca Trail, which made a sustained ascent over the next half mile to reach the undulating crest of the ridge at 3.2 miles. As we emerged onto this crest, we could see Antler Point rising at the far end of the grassy ridge.

The Pala Seca Trail winds through grasslands towards Antler Point

I followed the Pala Seca Trail along the flat top of the grassy ridge, enjoying some views of Mount Hamilton, Smith Creek’s deep canyon, and the many layers of ridges of the Diablo Range to the east. At 4 miles from the trailhead, the Antler Point Trail branched off to the right from the Pala Seca Trail next to a bench with a view of San Jose. Here, the dirt road hiking ended: the Antler Point Trail was a single-track path traveling through tall grass.

San Jose in a shroud of haze

I followed the Antler Point Trail for a final 0.4 miles to the end of the ridge, arriving at Antler Point itself at just under 4.5 miles from the trailhead. The end of the trail here was not actually at the highest point on the ridge, a 2999-foot local maxima that lay just to the east; however, this slightly lower peak rose like the prow of a ship above Santa Clara Valley and thus provided the best views. From the summit, I could see the skyline of downtown San Jose, the long strip of San Jose International Airport, and San Francisco Bay itself to the north; the Santa Cruz Mountains, including Loma Prieta, Mount Umunhum, and Black Mountain, rose on the other side of the valley, forming the western bound of a valley that has driven a global technological revolution over the past half-century. The views south along the grassy ridges that I had hiked along to get to Antler Point was lovely as well, the afternoon light turning the mix of green and grey vegetation into a silvery sheen.

El Toro and Fremont Peak to the south

Rolling grassy ridges of Grant County Park

The Pala Seca Trail in the shadow of Mount Hamilton

Santa Clara Valley and the Santa Cruz Mountains from Antler Point

After eating a light lunch and enjoying the views, I retraced my steps to the trailhead. Except for the area directly around the Twin Gates Trailhead, I saw just five other hikers all day on this trail, so this is a far quieter hike than some of the too-well-loved hikes that are a bit closer to the Bay Area. The road to get to Twin Gates is a bit twisty, but otherwise there’s little reason for Bay Area hikers looking for a quiet and scenic outing to skip the hike to Antler Point. Bring water, avoid hot days, and hike during winter or spring when the hills are greener.

Whale Gulch

The Lost Coast

5 miles round trip, 700 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Easy-moderate
Access: Rough dirt road to the trailhead (high clearance advised), Sinkyone Wilderness State Park entrance fee required

Sinkyone Wilderness State Park protects some of the most spectacular and undeveloped stretches of California's largely roadless Lost Coast and the hike from Needle Rock to Whale Gulch is a relatively easy excursion that visits some of the area's most stunning seaside scenery. The Lost Coast is one of California's great gems: while the more popular access point at Shelter Cove is already gradually being discovered, the Sinkyone Wilderness stretch of the Lost Coast is still far off the beaten path. This lovely hike follows grassy coastal bluffs with fabulous views to two pristine black sand beaches and ends at the bottom of lush, fern-filled Whale Gulch. If you come, you're likely to see more elk than people.

The drive to get to the trailhead at Needle Rock Visitor Center in Sinkyone Wilderness State Park is quite an ordeal: the park is about an hour and a half from US 101 on winding country roads that are narrow, potholed, and eventually unpaved. The trailhead is 2.5 hours from Eureka, 3 hours from Ukiah, and over 5 hours driving from the San Francisco Bay Area, so it makes sense to save this hike for a trip to this corner of the coast unless you live nearby. A higher clearance vehicle can be useful on the drive to reach the trailhead; although I made it in a standard clearance compact car, my car really struggled at points.

Redway and Garberville are the closest towns with services. Whether you arrive from the north or the south on Highway 101, take the exit for Redway, which will put you on Redwood Drive; follow this road into downtown Redway and turn west onto Briceland Road, at the Shop Smart grocery store. Follow the windy but paved Briceland Road west for 12 miles across the Eel River and through the town of Briceland to a split between the roads to Whitethorn and Shelter Cove; take the left fork to continue towards Whitethorn. The road stayed divided and paved for the next 4 miles through Whitethorn; after passing through this village, the road divide ended. The road became windier and narrower as it ascended until it reached a saddle and a junction with Usal Road at 22 miles from Redway. The pavement ended here; I drove through the junction to continue following Briceland Road, which turned into a rough gravel road that descended steeply through the forest and was only wide enough to accomodate a single vehicle in both directions. I followed the gravel road for a bumpy final 4 miles downhill to the Needle Rock Visitor Center, encountering a few spots along the way that almost seemed like too much for my front-wheel drive standard clearance compact car. There was parking for over 10 cars outside the visitor center but I was the only car present on the day of my visit; this location is so remote that it's hard to imagine the parking ever fills. A state park entrance fee is collected in fee envelopes; bring cash or come with a valid California State Parks pass.

The hike to Whale Gulch follows a two-and-a-half-mile stretch of the Lost Coast Trail north from Needle Rock Visitor Center. The first mile is perhaps the most consistently spectacular, with constant views of the coast from grassy benches on the way to the junction for Jones Beach. After the short detour down to Jones Beach, the Lost Coast Trail continues another mile to the mouth of Whale Gulch, where there is informal access down to the black sands of Whale Gulch Beach. The final half mile leaves the coast and ascends into a lush ravine, ending where the Lost Coast Trail crosses the stream.

From the parking area by the visitor center, I backtracked slightly along the road for fifty meters to reach a wooden shelter. The Lost Coast Trail broke off from the road and led downhill to the coastal bluffs here, marked clearly with a sign. Upon reaching the coastal cliffs and my first direct view over the Pacific of the hike, I found the area's eponymous Needle Rock at the base of the cliffs, with surf crashing through its natural multi-legged arch with the arrival of every wave.

Needle Rock

After kicking things off with this beautiful coastal view, the Lost Coast Trail had consistently scenery over roughly the next mile. The view to the north was especially beautiful- in fact, the scene of Chemise Mountain's forested slopes dropping steeply to meet the waters of the Pacific is, in my opinion, one of the most spectacular and iconic views of California's entire Pacific coast. The trail followed the cliffs along an open stretch of brushy terraces here, providing the open conditions that allowed for continuous views.

Chemise Mountain and the Lost Coast

The trail left the coast at only a few points, typically ducking inland just briefly to cross over small gullies carved into the coastal terraces here. Despite the trail's remoteness, most of these gully crossings were on well-built wooden bridges that belied the region's true wilderness character.

Sinkyone Wilderness coast

Views of Chemise Mountain and the Lost Coast featured front and center as I continued hiking northward along the Lost Coast Trail. The Lost Coast is so named because it is the longest roadless stretch of Pacific coastline within the contiguous United States. When US 101 and Highway 1 were built in the twentieth century, they went around this extraordinarily rugged stretch of coast. As a result, the coast north of Fort Bragg and south of Eureka is largely wilderness, with a few exceptions such as the road to Needle Rock and a separate road to Shelter Cove, the only true seaside town of the Lost Coast. The most famous stretch of the Lost Coast lies between Shelter Cove and Mattole Road, to the north; although the stretch of the Lost Coast in Sinkyone Wilderness is even quieter than other parts of this already unpeopled seascape, it is clearly no less beautiful.

Lost Coast Trail on the way to Whale Gulch

Waves on the Pacific

At about a mile from the trailhead, the Lost Coast Trail came to a distinctive grove of eucalyptus trees. The grove nestled the Jones Beach campsite, while the trail to Jones Beach led downhill to the left from the grove. At this junction, I spotted a large herd of Roosevelt elk, numbering well over 30 elk. The elk were resting in the grassy and brushy slopes leading down to the beach; as some of them were quite close to the trail, I had to wait a while until the elk migrated away from the trail to actually take the detour to Jones Beach.

Elk herd near Jones Beach

The trail to Jones Beach was short, leading downhill through grassy slopes before dropping steeply into a rocky gully and then following that gully out to the coast.

Jones Beach was generally pretty rocky but also had some stretches of the beautiful black sand that is so distinctive to the beaches of the Lost Coast. An impressive line of cliffs rose directly behind the beach and continued northwards to become the great rocky bluffs of Chemise Mountain.

Jones Beach

Returning to the eucalyptus grove, I took a left on the Lost Coast Trail and continued north towards Whale Gulch. The trail became somewhat less scenic and pleasant past this point, leaving the coastal terrace that it had followed for the first mile. The heavily vegetated trail veered away from the coast and stayed high above a creek gully, with the ridge opposite the creek separating the trail from views of the ocean. Here, the Lost Coast Trail passed through a mix of forest, brush, and some swampy stretches. 

The Lost Coast

At just under two miles, the Lost Coast Trail reemerged onto an open slope with sweeping ocean views. Chemise Mountain's steep cliffs rose directly to the north and below I could see the black sands of Whale Gulch Beach, with Whale Gulch Creek flowing into the Pacific.

Whale Gulch Creek and Chemise Mountain

While the view of Whale Gulch Beach from the Lost Coast Trail was already beautiful, the trail did not provide direct access to the beach, which was nearly 200 feet downhill from the trail. Instead, the only way down was via a faint social trail down the steep grassy slope. The path was not well established, but it was reasonably easy to discern a cross-country route down towards the beach regardless. The social path ended leading to a break in the coastal cliffs directly above the mouth of Whale Gulch Creek; the view of the creek emerging from a wild canyon to meet the ocean on a black sand beach was very striking. From this break in the cliffs, a very steep path dropped down to the beach itself.

Whale Gulch Beach

Whale Gulch Beach was one of the highlights of this hike: here, the waves of the Pacific crashed onto a smooth playa of brilliant black sand. I had this spectacular black sand beach all to myself; this stretch of the coast truly felt lost and overlooked.

The black sands of Whale Gulch Beach

Returning uphill to the Lost Coast Trail, I continued heading northward. The trail left the immediate coastline and began ascending as it traced a mountainside high above Whale Gulch. This high vantage point provided views down Whale Gulch to the Pacific and across the gulch to Chemise Mountain's extremely steep slopes.

Chemise Mountain and Whale Gulch

The trail reached a high point and then began to descend into Whale Gulch itself, hugging a steep mountainside as it gradually dropped into the fern-choked canyon. Whale Gulch was almost indescribably lush and a satisfying conclusion to the hike. As I descended into the canyon, I looked below the trail and saw the gulch's near-vertical walls coated with ferns- this was a sight as verdant as any on the Northern California coast and a match for the Fern Canyons of Mendocino and Redwood National Park. At a little under 2.5 miles from the trailhead, the Lost Coast Trail reached the bottom of Whale Gulch and crossed Whale Gulch Creek, a lovely and lush stopping point.

Fern-choked Whale Gulch

The Lost Coast Trail continued past Whale Gulch, climbing over Chemise Mountain en route to Shelter Cove and the more frequented northern-reaches of the trail. I chose to turn around at this point, as the most spectacular coastal stretches of the trail in Sinkyone Wilderness State Park ended at Whale Gulch Beach.

I did not see a single other human being on this hike- indeed, I didn't even see another car until I got back to Whitethorn (visiting on a January weekday might the primary cause of this, though). This is one of the most underrated and spectacular coastal hikes in the state of California and a perfect way to experience a small stretch of the Lost Coast on an easy day hike. Don't miss it.