My wife had been planning this camping trip with friends for some time, but neither of us bothered to work on the details until the last minute. I wanted a significant hike to be a component of this trip, but my wife and daughters had a Girl Scout camping trip the night before and I did not calculate the effect that event would have on our timing and itinerary. Moreover, most of my family had been sick the prior week and our youngest Inga was running a fever the day before. In the end, we didn't get the car packed until about 2 p.m. and it became clear that all we would be doing on Saturday was driving, unpacking, pitching our tent, cooking, eating and drinking (did I mention drinking).
I had no idea how big Mt. Diablo is. Sitting just under 4k feet above sea level, the mountain seems much taller when you are on it than it appears when you look at it from the surrounding countryside. The climb up was grueling on my 2008 Subaru Tribeca. Fully loaded with six passengers and gear for an overnight, my car started having transmission knocks about 2/3 the way up the mountain. We had approached from the South side, coming from Danville. The ride up featured a meandering winding climb with no guardrails and beautiful views. My transmission was already having symptoms the last time I took it on a big climb and I wouldn't have done it again, today, if I knew what kind of hill I was facing. But by the time I realized the scale of things I was already committed to my trip and wasn't about to turn back.
I had picked up a map of Mount Diablo Park the day before and had not had time to read it and, even if I had, my wife managed to book a campsite without knowing the name of the campsite - so, I wouldn't know where we were headed anyway. Once in the Park, we were able to get sufficiently close to our campground before the car started acting funny. A quick phone to our friends was enough to save our trip. They drove down from camp to meet us and took some gear and kids. The car got lighter and the after some cooling off I had no more problems. We were able to offload our family and a lot of dead weight and the old Tribeca was able to limp up the remainder of the hill to our campsite at the Juniper Campground.
We arrived a camp to find a nice spot my friend Erica had picked out. She had devised a scheme where the adults had one campsite, the kids had another, and the middle site was a common area for cooking. It worked great. Upon arrival I put Inga up in a tree to play and climb, Erol stuck a plastic cup full of good white wine in my hand, and the tents went up with ease. The kids got lost playing a game of tag they call "Infection" and all was good. My legs were still mad at me for not getting them out on the trail and my brain was a bit wracked by the thought of what to do about my car, but for a moment I was relaxed and enjoying my Memorial Day Weekend.
Oh, yeah, about that weekend. In my hurry to prep food and pack my car I forgot to put my flag out. This is actually a big deal because the day has always meant a lot. I was raised by my mother's parents and my maternal grandfather was a WWII veteran who always knew what this day meant first hand. He lost good friends in Europe and the Pacific. His solemnity and reverence was duly noted by my young eyes. Now that he has passed, and even though he did not die in battle, Memorial Day will always be Jim Farrell's Day for me.
About 4 glasses of wine into the evening we started eating. The grilled steelhead and dutch oven baked mac-n-cheese were ready for consumption. I got out the rest of the fish taco prep, including homemade fire engine guacamole and mango-corn-bean salsa. The dinner was delish and so were the three cobblers we cranked out in the dutch ovens. Cherry, peach, and blueberry, take your pick or try all three! Topped off with semi-frozen vanilla ice cream that had survived in a small cooler. We do car camping right!
After dinner, we walked down to a beautiful overlook and peered westward across a vast expanse of clouds. The "marine layer" had set in from the Pacific Ocean and the Bay Area was blanketed with a fluffy layer of cloud cover. It was lovely looking down on this as opposed to our usual perspective of being stuck in it. We lost track of the kids and made it back to camp. We talked about the passing of Greg Allman and Erol impressed us with a special bottle of Napa cabernet that he and some friends had produced exclusively for their purchase. It was crisp, bright, and full flavored. I could taste the oak of the barrel and a hint of cherry. I love it, and that was saying a lot because usually that far into the evening you could give me Boone's Farm and I wouldn't know the difference.
I woke up after 8 the next morning with bright sun on my face. It was a little too warm for that early in the morning and, despite the tree cover, the sun found a way to penetrate right onto the wall of my tent. It was surprisingly hot up there on the mountain at sunrise, and returning to our overlook we could see all the way to Mt. Tamalpais. It was peaking up out of that marine layer and it was the only other thing we could see above the clouds besides our own mountain. Shaking off a bit of a headache, Mary and I agreed that there would be no hike today either. Too much to pack up and it was already too hot. We weren't sure if Inga was well enough for an uphill hike.
There was a temperature inversion, as we drove down from the mountain it got much cooler. Definitely a good idea to get a specific forecast for Mt. Diablo if you are planning a hike or bike ride!
Mary and I have resolved to take on Mt. Diablo again. We have now studied the map and are going to plan a day where just the two of us leave early and walk up and down it in one day. It will be more of a cardio workout than an easy walk in the woods. Stay tuned!
(p.s., the park doesn't allow alcohol, any reference to wine was the non-alcohol variety)
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