Back to the Bay

Tucker and I kicked off 2023 in our favorite place: the San Francisco Bay area. The last New Years we were here was 2020. Remember that? The final NYE in Before Times. That night we walked up to Twin Peaks to watch the fireworks show over the Bay. It was actually the last time San Francisco had the fireworks show… until now.

The fireworks were back and so are we! Except rather than watch them from the city, we are stationed across the Bay. Technically it’s “East Bay”, but since Alameda is an island, I’m going to say we’re more “Mid-Bay”, albeit closer to the coast of Oakland than the peninsula.

The driving rains had been endless leading up to the evening. Flash flooding, clogged storm drains, and general soaking wetness was an issue for all of California, so I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make the late night trek to the shore, which was a little over a mile away, but really two miles to the prime spot for viewing.

The clouds cleared around 9pm so we did indeed do the walk across the sleepy island where we saw and heard few people. At a couple minutes to midnight, we were joined by some nearby apartment dwellers who came out to the beach and park to watch the light show over the Bay Bridge.

Getting in the four mile roundtrip walkabout that night did not deter us from finding another hike to begin 2023 out in the wilds.

Having been here so many times over such long periods, I was running out of new dog friendly places to go. Every East Bay forest hike review pointed out “So many ticks!”, so I avoided those. And since Tucker wasn’t allowed his beach & bluff day on Christmas, I wanted to give that to him today.

The main artery from East Bay to Half Moon Bay was shut down due to flooding, so my initial plan to head west then south down the coast was taken off the table. I had to find a coastal destination accessible via a safe road.

Searching through AllTrails, I found a new hike we hadn’t yet done. I have discovered that while AllTrails is great at keeping track of what hikes we’ve done, similar paths may appear as trails not yet taken, and since I didn’t join till 2016, there are over 2 years of hikes with Tucker unaccounted for—except here. So now I cross-reference my own blog to confirm it’s a trail not yet taken. I double-checked that it was indeed “new” to us, and off we went across the Bay.

Mussel Rock is between Thorton Beach and Mori Point, two trails we frequent for their beauty and solitude. Somehow this one had slipped by me all these years. Known as a great paragliding kickoff point, perhaps I just didn’t consider it. But now I did, and so glad I did.

The parking lot was pretty full, but we snagged a space on the side where people had simply decided was now another row of parking spots. I could understand why paragliding was a mainstay here: the winds kept the sun from being too warm.
​
It being a place for take-off and landing, most of the area was wide open dirt or short meadow.

A little foliage lined the trails, and the view were beautiful.

As we watched a paraglider take off and hang on the winds, I realized another element that made the Bay area feel like home to me. For those who love nature here, they do not go into it to tame it or conquer it; they come to Nature to appreciate its beauty by experiencing it on its own terms. They surf the ocean waves, they hang on the winds over the bluff, they walk along the shoreline… they do not wish to change Nature, just be a harmonious part of it.

There wasn’t really an out and back trail, but just loops and paths that took you up and down the seaside cliff. So Tucker and I went about making sure our feet touched every inch of the trails without double-tracking too much.

There was a beach that we spied people on, but the path involved some tricky negotiating down piles of rocks. I wasn’t really up for that, and since Tucker wasn’t going into the ocean anyway, I asked that we move on to other areas.

Looking southward, we spotted the Mussel Rock and walked toward it.

At the end of the lowest trail was a beautiful rock formation that I desperately wanted to explore but could not. It was beyond the fencing, but more so it was protected by some precarious rock formations that I didn't see Tucker and I getting through unharmed. So we'd just appreciate it from afar.

After taking in the beauty from the end of thattrail, we headed back.

Tucker was still on the challenge of walking every step of every path so we took another trail up a level and went to the end.

Tucker saw what he suspected was a trail. Looked more like a runoff to me, but someone had tried using it. It took some convincing, but I finally pulled Tucker away with the assurance this was not a trail we had to take.

It is a beautiful piece of land and ocean, this Mussel Rock Park. It was once a landfill. Because not so long ago, people didn’t appreciate what they had here. They dumped their trash that still turns up in landslides and the shifting of the earth. The rock and the park are both on a fault line, so with every earthquake, the land shifts, stretching and yawning and releasing its tension. And with it, fifty year old manmade trash.
​
But volunteers are cleaning it up. They’re working on fixing what those before them broke.

I find it hard to believe people would defile this place without a second thought. But times were different; there was more  open space, fewer people. We didn’t believe that we, as a species, could have such an enormous effect on the planet—to heal it or harm it.

We each have one lifetime to care for the planet, to enrich it with our joy, and to let it enrich us in return. Experience the world for the beauty it is and vow to protect it for others and for itself.

Starting the year here on the coastline where people are beginning to heal it after being abused for so long is a perfect place to begin the new year. To accept the damage we’ve done, we have to admit that we are powerful enough to do harm. And if we’re powerful enough to do harm, imagine the possibilities when we strive to make things better.

The future is unwritten. But for Tucker and me, we have some ideas of where we want the story to go, and how it will unfold. We know the locations will be stunningly beautiful, and the characters, as always, are fascinating, kind, and surprising. The people and places and moments will teach us about the world around us--and the worlds within us. There is healing to be done, and growing and blooming, and rising to the challenges we face. And above all, there is beauty and kindness, from within and without, to be shared and enjoyed and experienced.

May your new year be filled with beauty and kindness. And where you cannot see the beauty or feel the kindness around you, look within:  you might find what you've been looking for has been inside you all along.