“It’s a bit rugged out here,” the Ranger warns, eyeing our group critically.  He does a quick calculation.  Six pairs of slip-on tennies, two senior citizens, four-year-old dressed for the beach, coughing tween plugged into an iPod, haggard looking parents promising a “short walk.” Two helicopters minimum to extract this crowd from the wilderness when they don’t make it back.  Haggard-looking Mom takes Ranger aside to explain three miles is about all they’ve got in em.  “Well, we’ve only got one hike like that--and there’s a lot of up and down. “No other options, huh?”  “Nope.” “We’ll take it.”  The 3-mile loop, called “Burra Burra Loop,” looks short and sweet on the map the Ranger provides, barely a ten inch squiggle marked in cheerful blue.  “Let’s go, gang!” 

We wake up in the Aptos Hills to the same dreary gray sky that’s plagued us all winter, rain clouds floating ominously from the East, a chill in the air that our over-worked pellet stove can’t cut through.  The kids are skittering from room to room, taking out dolls, books, paper, pens, leaving trails of toast crumbs, sneaking the electronics to binge-watch slime videos, humming, singing, shouting, arguing.  I’ve got to get out of here.  My mind flips through images of our usual hikes.  Meh.  It’s time for something new and completely different, an adventure off the beaten track, something wild and unforgettable. I remember looking off into the distant hills in the Pacheco Mountains over a lifetime of traveling between Santa Cruz and the Valley and wondering, “What’s out there?” No time like the present to find out.   Less than a 2 hour drive away?  Check.  Never been there?  Check.  Within a half-hour of ice cream to lure the kids in?  Check.  Paved road? Sort-of.  Off we go. 

After a quick stop to pick up Grandma and Grandpa Oranges, we head east into the hills.  Every now and then, the sun peeks through the clouds, illuminating fields of broccoli and sprawling cattle farms.  The roadside stands advertise strawberries and garlic ice cream.  We pass Casa de Fruta on Highway 152, heading into a landscape of gently rolling hills punctuated by steep crags jutting into the clouds. 

A few miles past Casa De Fruta, we veer left at Bell’s Station onto a dirt road that winds out into nowhere.  This is exactly what I was looking for.  We pass a few cars in the 7-mile journey to Dowdy Ranch, mostly trucks driven by what appear to be locals—whiskered cattle-herding types that nod sternly as they pass.  There are a few private ranches along the way, with fancy iron gates and gorgeous horses in rare colors like cream and steely gray.   By the time we make it to the Dowdy Ranch Visitor Center, we are seriously intrigued.  What is this place?

It turns out that Henry Coe State Park is heavily visited, especially on a 3-day weekend like this one—but not via this entrance.  Very few people are that crazy.  The main entrance is in Morgan Hill.  Dowdy Ranch is more like a remote outpost, populated by serious backpackers armed with military rations and water purifiers.  And us. 

The hike is challenging, but in all the right ways.  We lose our breath, just in time to catch it in an oak grove overlooking hills rolling for as far as the eye can see.  Wildflowers are blooming, blankets of purple, orange, yellow, and white, lupine, poppies, clover and baby blue eyes, buckeye dripping from the trees.  The trail is more like a suggestion, just perceptible enough that we don’t lose it.  It’s fun, thinking we might be lost for a minute. But we’re not.  The map confirms we are going in the right direction, down and up. And lots of up.  As Eben and I scamper up Burra Burra Peak for a better view, Grandma Oranges mutters under her breath, “We’re going on a little walk. Straight up mountains.” 

There are magical moments.  Certain parts of the path are clustered with monarchs that rise like orange smoke from the path before us as we trundle along.  Some of the vegetation is Seuss-like—thin spindly wands topped with over-sized poofs of white, dandelions as big as my hand, gnarled oak trees. 

The feeling that I’ve just wandered into and out of a dream lingers long after we leave the dirt road behind, at least until the kids have filled bags of candy at Casa de Fruta and we’ve gorged ourselves with enchiladas at Jardines del San Juan in San Juan Bautista.

We could have just done one of our usual hikes. But I’m so glad we didn’t.  A multi-day hike from Dowdy Ranch is now officially on my bucket list.  The trail map promised ponds and lakes and valleys and hills (lots of hills).  It’s a bit rugged out here. Just a bit. And that’s exactly what we needed. 

To visit the Dowdy Ranch Visitor Center yourself, take the Highway 152, east from Hollister, just past Casa de Fruta. Stay in the left lane and look for Bell’s Station Gate.  Take a left and follow the dirt road all the way to the Visitor’s Center.  This entrance is only open on the weekends during late spring, summer and early fall, “as staffing is available.”  You might want to call before you go, just to make sure Bells’ Station Gate is open.  The usual State Park day use fees apply. Bring water, snacks and everything else you’ll need for a 2 to 3 hour hike with lots of ups and downs.  There’s a barbecue pavilion and picnic tables at Dowdy Ranch.  Après-hike snacks? 

To visit Happy Cabin during your trip to North Lake Tahoe / Tahoe Vista / Kings Beach, click here.