A weekend o' hiking

This past weekend, Paul and I made our way down Hwy 128 (West towards Napa) to a beautiful portion of the northern coast range known as Stebbins Cold Canyon Reserve. The land is used for research as well as preservation of over 100 bird and nearly 300 plant species. I've never been to the reserve and Paul had only been once, years ago, for a UCD entomology class field trip. The entrance to the reserve isn't marked with any elegant or grandiose signs. It's simply a fire road, with a tube gate, located not-too-far from the Monticello Dam (itself, having a VERY interesting story) at Lake Berryessa. So we loaded up the VW and headed west to find the elusive entrance to Stebbins Cold Canyon.

We drove around, up and down the topsy turvy road that circumvents Lake Berryessa and found fifteen different tube gates. We pulled over a couple of times at a few trail heads only to be thwarted, mid path, by impassable poison oak. Call me weird but, for some odd reason, I would rather grapple with a mountain lion than endure a bout of itchy, weepy, contagious poison oak. That's one wicked plant!

So, Paul and I wound up at our old standby...Putah Creek. He took me to a little-used portion of this huge creek (it stretches 70 miles, from Lake County to Napa County), behind the UCD Raptor Center. We hiked for about three hours...boy, time flies out there! We saw a river otter, beaver, and plenty of hawks, kytes, and smaller song birds. We just love the greenery down by the creek. Every year, the thistle berry (that's what we call it...not sure of the real name) grows as high as we are tall.

We've watched squirrels climb this prickly, spiny plant and deftly remove the artichoke-like head. The thorns of the thistle pose little obstacle to the squirrels as they pull out the feathery flower parts and eat the little seeds. It's an awesome thing to watch! We've tried doing the same (pulling out the seeds, not eating them!)...OUCH!

Paul and I always have such an awesome time by the creek. It was integral to the early stages of our relationship. We spent countless weekends down there...sunrise...sunset...watching the birds and animals live a life that seemed hundreds of miles from the busy campus that was just feet away. It was sort of a metaphor for us, and it was here that we truly got to know one another.

Actually, it was at this creek that I realized that I could spend my entire life with Paul. It was sunset and we had just ridden our bikes over to the creek from my Davis apartment. As I was watching the birds and taking in the sights, Paul turned me around to face the setting sun (still, to this day, one of the most vibrant sunsets I've seen) and put his arms around me. Resting his head on my shoulder, we stood there until the sun had finished its descent to the horizon. I was blown away by his ability to "be still." He didn't have to fill the silence with words and he recognized the gift that we had just been given. I knew that he would be patient and thoughtful, insightful and a calming force on my raging heart and head.

I was right.