Walkin' with Joaquin

Excited to hit the trail with John Roberts of BTCEB Many if not most of the Friends of Joaquin Miller Park meetings and email threads include conversations about bikers at the park. On the one end of the spectrum are jerks from other cities who ignore trail markers, build illegal jumps, and zoom past or even insult hikers. On the other end of the spectrum are the park guardians. I asked John Roberts of the Bicycle Trails Council of the East Bay  if he'd show me the park through his eyes, or at least at his speed. We met at the Ranger Station and he unloaded an extra set of wheels. Mountain bikers are mostly men—but I know my way around a bike. My brothers, cousins, surrogate sons never thought to invite me on a mud run. But John loaned me his daughter's bike—he'd raised her on the trail. My husband bikes to work, but would begrudgingly load up for our own family trips along the shoreline. Once we started dropping our own son and his wheels off at Chabot Science Center (wher...

Today I'm writing from the Fire Circle. It's time for a makeover...because danger ! This sometimes sunny meadow was a soft green in the spring, but now it's full of dry, flammable foxtails, surrounded by trees full of tinder. Fun fact: The Golden Gate is not the bridge, but the hills the bridge connects. Before The Spanish arrived with their cows, those hills were green all summer, like this meadow would be if the native grasses weren't choked out by foxtails. The cows pooped out the Spanish hay, full of foxtail seeds, which are persistent hitchhikers with an incredible life force. Soon those hills were browning off in the summer. Or I should say blonding off. Turning that sort of soft gold that is not to be confused with the brilliance of California poppies. (Which really did used to crowd these here hills.) The picnic tables and concrete barbecue/stage were built, I learned recently, by none other than the devoted Juanita Miller, Joaquin's youngest daughter, a.k...