San Francisco and Marin Hiking, Bicyling, and Horse Back Riding
Gorbode Valley, which is at the southern tip of Marin County in Golden Gate National Preserve, is a wonderful place to visit in the spring. Over the past month, my husband and I hiked there twice. One day was cool, foggy and peaceful. The other day sunny, warm, and blossoming.
Our first time in Gerbode Valley was the last weekend in March. It'd been a beautiful week that week so when we awoke on Saturday to fog we were disappointed. Still, we hoped the good weather that sometimes blesses Marin County would bless Gerbode Valley that day.
This is a picture (not taken by me) that shows the sometimes striking difference between the blanket of fog that sometimes hangs on in the city while Marin county is completely sunny. Anyway, we dressed in sweatpants and t-shirts and threw on hooded sweatshirts in case it was cold (in San Francisco, it's always a good idea to layer clothing) and headed out.
We drove north over the fog-covered Golden Gate Bridge (we could barely make out the towers as we drove past them) and took a right on Alexander, the first exit after the bridge's northern scenic parking lot. The turn to Gerbode Valley is the first one after getting off on Alexander and we hit it sooner than we thought we would so we made a quick left and then came to the stop we'd read about in our hiking book, a five minute light that directs cars through a one-way tunnel.
We hit the light as it turned red so we were in the front of the line and found out that they weren't kidding about the five minute wait. When the light finally turned green, we drove through the tunnel (probably 3/4 of a mile), prayed that our car didn't break down, and we marveled that people actually bicycle through the tunnel. (Yes, that's an option, riding your bike over the Golden Gate Bridge, through this tunnel, and to Gerbode Valley trail, but in my opinion it's a decision to be made only by those who are suicidally adventurous!).
After we got through the tunnel, we drove on a two-lane paved road that ran through a small former military housing community, which had one-story uniform white houses on both sides and speed bumps to slow us down. Our parking lot was a little more than a mile past the houses on the right hand side, directly after a big brown barn and horse stables.
The trail that connects to the parking lot is called Rodeo trail and it's a loop that wraps flatly around a lagoon on the southern-most point of the valley. We haven't taken this trail yet, but read that it's mostly flat and puts you close to the Pacific if you'd like to go on a more moderate walk. Rodeo trail also connects with Miwok trail, a 3-4 hour hilly hike that was our destination. So we headed out on Rodeo trail, walked across a small creek over a wooden bridge, and then up a slight sloping hill. It was misty but still pretty with Eucalyptus trees shimmering overhead and the brownish-green grass hills to our right.
After about ½ a mile on Rodeo trail we turned right on Gerbode Valley trail and walked a steeper grade up the Eastern hillside that rises above the valley floor. The higher we went, the more the wind and fog picked up and pretty soon we couldn't see 10 feet in front of us. It was very peaceful and felt like we were in the middle of the wilderness, even though we knew we were only 10 minutes from the city. Even the little bit we could see we saw nature everywhere. Red newts scurried across the trail, little black sparrows hopped in bushes, and long-winged red hawks swooped down into our sight every so often.
About half way up we stopped and listened. The moist fog fell upon our hair and clothing and we heard what we thought was wind blowing through the ravine beside us. After listening for a moment though, we realized the sound was coming from above and we looked up to see a gigantic power line directly overhead. The electricity running through the power line was making the howling sound, which was accentuated by the relative silence of the valley. 
We had heard a horse whiney in fright about five minutes before and now we thought we knew why. It was kind of romantic up there, just the two of us standing in the fog remote, removed, not really aware of what was below us or even before us.
Of course, there were occasionally other people on the trail. There was a trail race that day so every so often a group of flouncing half-naked trail runners would emerge from the fog, waving and smiling or looking around in bewilderment for the markers that showed where the race was going. 
Along with them, we gradually found our way around the hills of the valley. At the very top of the Western hill there's some kind of radio transmitter for airplanes. That area was fenced off and that was definitely the coldest and the windiest part of the hike. We tried to look down the valley and see a view, but it was no use. So we just enjoyed the fog, held hands, and listened to the sound of nature and man as they both blew around us. Once it got a little too chilly we decided to head back down the other side.
We passed more people going down than we had going up (we've noticed that there are more people out in the afternoon than the morning) and finished the hike at a faster pace than how we'd started. It was a great hike, a good workout, really neat at certain places, but we getting hungry. We went to the Park Chalet, which is just below the Beach Chalet on Great Highway and is a wonderful place to hang out, ate a Mediterranean pizza, drank a beer, and warmed ourselves up.
The next time we tried the hike, Easter day; it had rained the day before, but was lovely that Sunday. It was completely sunny and probably in the 60s with a very slight breeze. We took the same route but hit the green light at the tunnel this time, and then pulled into the parking lot and headed out onto Rodeo Trail and then over to Gerbode Valley trail. The hills and valley were green and had erupted in poppies (my husband took the next couple of pictures), 
not to mention bright yellow daises, rare purple Brewer's milk vetch, white wildflowers, and giant bushes that folded open like cabbages, white stars in the center. If anyone knows what those wild looking things are called please tell me, they're neat.
Once we hiked slightly up above the valley there wasn't a bit of wind, and we saw, finally, that the view. We made a left on Gerbode Valley trail this time (it's a loop) and the further we climbed, the more astonished we were. 
First, were the more immediate things at hand. A half dozen hawks flying overhead. Hillsides covered with literally hundreds of poppies. Dew on the green grass that lined the hillside. And, looking out in the distance was even more astonishing. To the south we could see the populated curves of the city flanked by Golden Gate Park, which looked tiny from our perspective. To the East the triangle tip of the Transamerica building peaked over the hillsides, to the west we saw the Pacific Ocean, and to the North was Tennessee Valley, another hike further north in Marin County. Gerbode Valley itself was a lot bigger than we had thought when we were hiking in the fog, and it seemed to be glistening with renewal and life that day. Grass curves down all the hills to culminate in bowl-like valley, a line of trees covering the creek that wound through it. 
We were in a great mood and everyone we passed was smiling. We decided to take a path to the North toward Tennessee Valley so that we could enjoy the sandwiches and champagne we'd brought along. This path took us over a couple of wooden planks and then we sat on the slight hillside and enjoyed the view of Tennessee Valley's steep southern decent and the smiles of the gleeful joggers and walkers, all happy to be spending their day at such a lovely place.
We felt even more blessed because we'd experienced both sides of Gerbode Valley, the foggy day where it truly felt like wilderness and this blissful spring day with the beautiful wildflowers and incredible views. Whether you visit San Francisco on a foggy weekend or a sunny weekend I recommend Gerbode Valley as a great place to hike and experience a less-experienced part of the beautiful Bay Area.
And champagne in the woods is never bad either 
