Henry Coe State Park is the second largest state park in California and the largest one in Nor Cal: 87,000 acres and over 300 miles of trails. I used to ride it on my mountain bike when I was *really* fit, and I’ve been itching to get back to it on Sunny, when *she’s* really fit. It’s rough, hilly terrain and can be ungodly hot – but also tremendously beautiful. There’s no place for wildflowers like Coe, and from the ridge tops you can see forever – a biking friend and I saw the snow-covered Sierras one January.
The problem with riding in Henry Coe is that you have to find a like-minded companion; I suspect friendships could be lost by enticing an innocent friend to bring their horse and explore. Fortunately, on our NATRC ride, we met people who share our (okay, my) goals, and Michelle, who sheparded Sunny and I through the NATRC ride, agreed to ride with us from the Hunting Hollow entrance to Henry Coe.
Sunny and I trailered over from Santa Cruz, and Michelle from the Valley. I thought we’d meet half way, but it took me a little over an hour and it took Michelle two hours. Sorry, Michelle!
Because of that miscalculation, Sunny and I had about an hour in the parking lot, which turned out to be just fine. It’s a huge lot, lined on one side by large trees, so I was able to park so that the truck and trailer were in the shade, and there was no worry about getting out or turning around. There is a kiosk there with maps of the area and coming events, including horse-oriented ones. And right out the gate, there’s a creek/river that Sunny could drink from and we could practice crossing.
Also, Hunting Hollow seems to be a major mountain biking jump off point (we used to go from Gilroy Hot Springs), so there were bikes and people all over, including one couple erecting a huge umbrella-like sun tent on the back of their truck. Sunny and I, of course, went over to help them with the flapping nylon. For once, though, it was fair: the woman was scared stiff of horses, and by the end she was feeding Sunny. And Sunny was scared stiff of big tents waving in the breeze and she was okay with them by the end. There were also several families with kids who *needed* to pet a horse, so Sunny stepped up to that, too.
Michelle and her gelding, Fadder (I think), arrived, and got tacked up and ready to go in about 2 minutes. Michelle had ridden an endurance ride at Henry Coe, so I thought she knew some of the trails. I had told her that I had
Topo Map of our Route
ridden my mountain bike in Coe, so she thought I knew the trails. It turned out that the endurance ride hadn’t come to the south part of the park, where we were, and I had only gotten that far south a couple of times, and from a different starting point, so we were both clueless about route. We were forced to consult the map. We actually did a pretty good job, I think. The thumbnail on the left is a link to a topo map of our ride – just click on it to see more detail. You can probably tell, just from the density of the elevation lines how steep *everything* is. If you want to follow along, here is a link to the trail map we were using: http://www.coepark.org/maps/gilroy_entrances/HH_handout.pdf
We left the parking lot and crossed the creek, and immediately hit Hunting Hollow Road. It stayed flat for about three-quarters of a mile and we crossed the creek 4 times, I think. Then we headed up on the Lyman Willson Trail. Here is a profile map of the entire ride:
Elevation Profile of the Willson Camp Loop
As you can see, when we headed up, we headed UP. I think we climbed about 1300′ in about 1.5 miles. The Lyman Willson Trail is single track, with good footing and quite a bit of shade – but it’s heinously steep. Sunny’s saddle slipped back, in spite of her breast collar, so I got off, adjusted the saddle and walked her through a few places, but mostly she hauled my big bottom up that hill until we turned along the ridge top. Whoo Hoo. Oh yeah, not too far before the top, we ran into the ONLY person we saw – a lone hiker.
Even when we got to the “top”, it wasn’t flat – the trail followed the ridge top, with its ups and downs. Fortunately, about a quarter mile from where we turned, there was a stock tank with water in it and the horses got a chance to take a break and take a drink. That settled me down a little, too, and I was able to see where we had gotten to. We were on the south side of the ridge, and high enough over the “local” hills and see Gilroy, and the coastal range, with a huge fog bank blowing over it. Also, there were still clumps of wildflowers blooming: California poppies, of course, but some beautiful, small white flowers and some blue/purple ones. I remembered how much I enjoyed just touring in this park.
Soon after that, we got to Willson Camp, where there are a couple of buildings and another stock tank. At Willson Camp, we headed down hill – the only other option would have taken us too far to feel comfortable, not knowing what the descent was going to be like.
We took the largest path down, Wagon Road, which was good because we felt like we had to walk Fadder and Sunny down several parts of it – and the single track alternatives had signs like “Trail Not Maintained” on them, which made us think they might have had footing challenges, as well as just being danged steep.
We followed Wagon Trail all the way to its end, and almost all the way to the park boundary, then intersected with Hunting Hollow Road and headed for the parking lot. Hunting Hollow Road was the road we started on, with all the creek crossings, and it kept up – I bet we had to make 5 more crossings. Sunny didn’t get noticeably less concerned about crossing the creek, but she got really fond of getting knee deep in the water and just stopping. As I mentioned before, the temperature was tolerable, but only because (a) the wind was blowing and (b) I was riding a horse instead of powering myself up those dang hills. I suspect it was, subjectively, a much hotter day for the horses.
We made it back in time to make it home in daylight – a perfectly executed ride. It was about 10.5 miles, about 2200′ of climbing, and it took us about 4 hours and 20 minutes, end to end. Oh yeah, as some of you know, I’m geographically challenged, but between the map and the trail markers, I always felt like I knew exactly where I was. I was concerned about the terrain, but I was confident we could find our way back to the trailer. Good job.
It was a great ride in beautiful scenery and I enjoyed every minute of it, except the times when I thought Sunny was going to keel over. You know, I think of Sunny as being in pretty good shape, but she was d-e-d, dead, at the end of the ride and for two days afterward. BUT, there was an *endurance race* there the previous day and they were doing *50* miles. The very thought . . .
wanna ride?
donna