Recreation at Henry W. Coe State Park

It's true. Within an hour's drive of San Jose, and within two hours from San Francisco and the East Bay, there is a park where you could backpack for two weeks, hiking ten miles per day, camping some place different each night, without repeating the same trail. This is a place you can get lost in, and a few people do.

Henry W. Coe State Park is not a true wilderness, even in the state-designated wilderness area on the east side of the park, for it is webbed with old ranch roads in greater or lesser states of repair, and dotted with dozens of manmade cattle ponds from the ranching days. And the serenity of the wilderness backcountry is often interrupted by overflights of private planes and passenger jets.

But it is a primitive area. Get away from the developed headquarters campground and visitor center and you'll find few comforts of civilization, other than an occasional trail sign, or a pit toilet in some of the more popular locations (if pit toilets qualify as a comfort). While the park has a network of dirt roads which the staff uses for maintenance, patrol, and the occasional rescue, they are not open to the public. Access to the many wonderful places in Coe is on foot, mountain bike, or on horseback (if you bring your own horse).

Thanks to the taxpayers of California and the Nature Conservancy, Coe Park is growing. The Conservancy recently purchased property proposed for development immediately adjacent to the west side of the park, thus preventing the visual and auditory impact which would have been likely if a few houses or cabins had been built. The state has purchased this land, the idea being that the Conservancy then uses the funds to save even more land. About 200 additional acres are being added to the southern part of the park. Coe Park now totals about 87,000 acres (that's about 136 square miles), but will grow larger than that in the near future. (The new properties, including the historic Gilroy Hot Springs parcel, are closed to the public pending review for safety hazards, archaeological sites, and rare or sensitive plants and animals.)

More than any single recreational activity, Coe Park is a hiker's park. It's true that there are days and places when the hikers will be outnumbered by mountain bikers, sometimes even by equestrians, but on the whole, hiking is the thing to do at Coe. In the past, Coe Park had a reputation for steep trails, so steep that some would swear you climb up both coming and going.

There still are a lot of steep trails, but the combined efforts of staff and volunteers has resulted in the construction of many moderate to nearly level trails which contour the hillsides instead of taking the shortest route up or down. In addition, a relatively new entrance in the southern part of the park (at the Hunting Hollow access) has allowed the hiker to follow some rather level natural terrain. From both the original Coe Headquarters parking area and at Hunting Hollow, you can take leisurely hikes of up to six miles round trip without major hills. [Photo: Hikers packing young kids on Live Oak Trail. Copyright © Gena Zolotar. Used with permission.]

But you like the workout from steep trails, you say? Never fear. Even if the park is provided sufficient funding levels and labor to replace key steep connections with more moderate ones, the terrain of the hills will never allow for an "easy" trail to, say, Mississippi Lake. It is also such a big job just maintaining the trail system that it is unlikely that all existing steep trails will be replaced with more moderate ones. (Funding is never abundant, even when the economy is booming, and the occasional hired help and more frequent volunteer trail labor can do little more than keep some of the more frequently used trails in good shape, less frequently used trails pruned, and an occasional new trail built every few years. Many seldom frequented trails and roads have had practically zero maintenance in decades, and many of these are overgrown and/or experiencing moderate to severe erosion.)

One of the tough things about Coe trails in the past, besides the steepness, has been that your only starting point, Coe Headquarters, is at one of the higher points. If you wanted to hike more than a few miles, you had to start out going down. If you are not an experienced hiker, this can be quite troublesome. As soon as you turn around and start back up the hill, you suddenly find that you are not as hardy as you thought. And you'd swear that the mountain you so easily walked down just grew by about two thousand feet.

The trick in summer is not only to carry—and drink—lots of water, but to replace body salts lost through sweating. This you can do by drinking one of the commercial sports drinks like Gatorade or Powerade, or by adding a pinch of Morton "Light Salt" to a liter of water (the latter has much needed potassium as well as sodium). You will also want to take advantage of infrequent, possibly algae-blessed pools of water by dunking your whole head into it, preferably your whole body. Or at least dunk your hat and shirt into it and put them back on without wringing them out. The coolness you gain will brighten your whole outlook on life.

Winter often brings rain, but most days are not rainy, and the trails generally drain quite well. Except for a few springy places, you don't have to worry about mud-caked boots in most of Coe if it hasn't rained in half a day. You do need to be concerned with heavy rains and their aftermath: swollen, impassable creeks. The major creeks have no bridges, and when they are flowing fast they are so full of sediment, you can't tell how deep they are.

Even in the rain, bring a good poncho or other rain gear along and you can have a delightful hike. The air is fresh and wild, every little ravine has its own babbling brook, and the foliage is all bejeweled with uncountable sparkling orbs of water. Just have dry clothes to change into afterward!

Ever hike in your local regional park, one with day-use only, and find yourself frustrated because you would like to spend the night but the park closes at dusk? Or even when the park is open to camping, do you find that it is hard to get a backpack site because of high demand for few sites? Or even if you are backpacking off-season and site availability isn't a problem, do you find that your urge to explore is hampered by the relatively small size?

These are rarely problems at Coe State Park. The park is open for backpacking year-round. Park management has the authority to close the park in the event of extreme fire danger or other unsafe conditions, but that authority is rarely exercised. In fact, while the park was briefly closed during the fall 2007 Lick Fire, the last time the park was closed before that was in 1987, and that was due to the access road, East Dunne Avenue, sliding away along Lake Anderson. Since then, the park has opened two new entrances (Hunting Hollow and Coyote Creek) with another open part of the year (Bell Station), so it is even less likely the park will be closed in the future.

So, the park is open for backpacking year-round, but is it hard to get a permit? Rarely. The park is so huge, that it can almost always accommodate more backpackers than want to camp. The exception is on spring weekends, especially Memorial Day weekend, when all sites within five miles from Coe Headquarters can fill up by Friday afternoon, and the entire park within a day's hike by midday Saturday.

The park uses a rather clever system for keeping the backcountry from getting too crowded. Rather than use just a zone system or just a "designated sites only" system, it combines both. In the zone known as the Western Area—which is everything within about five or six miles from Coe Headquarters—you are restricted to using designated sites only. So that you don't have to feel crowded, each designated site is restricted to one party only. A backpacking party is any group signing up together of one to eight people. There are a few areas that have multiple sites within shouting distance, including Los Cruzeros, Poverty Flat, and Skeels' Meadow, so if other people are not what you came to see, avoid these places on the busier weekends. But most, including the popular China Hole and Frog Lake sites, are for one party only.

So that you can be reasonably sure the site is going to be unoccupied when you get there, your backpacking party is required to sign up for specific sites when you register, and the staff will let you know which sites are available to choose from. The system will only work if you and other backpackers stick to that itinerary. If, for example, you sign up for Lost Spring but upon reaching China Hole you decide, Hey, this is a real nice site and there's no one here, so let's just camp here; you may well discover some very tired and solitude-seeking person trudging in two hours later at sunset wondering what the heck you are doing in her campsite which she signed up for five days ago at the start of her fifty mile backpack trip!

But you like to keep your options open; you didn't go off into the wilds to be regimented. Great! Coe has other options for you. Outside of the aforementioned Western Area, the park is divided into broad zones for backpacking. If you want to hike about five to ten miles the first night out, choose one of the zones adjacent to the Western Area: Blue Ridge, Interior, or Mahoney. There, you are not restricted to designated sites, but can camp anywhere not already occupied by or near other campers. (Nor would you camp any place that caused you to damage the natural vegetation, but that should go without saying.) [Photo: Backpack campers at Coe, copyright © Scott and Sandi Stevenson. Used with permission.]

So, you could choose Mahoney Zone. You enter the zone near the top of the China Hole Trail. You're real tired, look around at those relatively flat grassy hilltops there, decide, this is the place for the night! You can do that and still be legit. Or, maybe you thought Mahoney Pond would be the place to camp, but you get there and still have a few miles left in you, and besides, there's a couple of young twerps camped there already who are afraid of quiet and have to fill it up with shouts and curses—so you hike on down Mahoney Meadows and find another flat grassy spot away from the road. And you can do that! Or maybe the wind has come up and you decide you don't want to camp on top of the ridge at all; this system allows you to change your mind and hike on down into the nearest canyon—so long as you stay in the zone.

One disadvantage about having open zone camping, though, is that you do not necessarily know where a

good place to camp will be, and when you get there, it could already be taken. On the trail and camping map I published in 1999, I tried to assist with this problem by using a symbol for recommended campsites. These areas, shown as green triangles on the map (see sample at right) are places I've personally visited and have either camped at myself, or would like to camp at. They all have a flat spot big enough for a tent and (in my opinion) a nice environment. (This map is now out of print, and has been superseded by a map that unfortunately does not show recommended sites.)

Two cautions, though: First, the map printing for the green layer of ink wasn't precise, so you may have to look around a few hundred yards from where it seems to be on the map. Second, while these areas all have water nearby at least half of the year, that means that some have water nearby less than half the year. Those which are near ponds and other reservoirs will have water year round, those next to creeks may have no water from about May-October, depending on the year's rainfall. Remember, these recommended sites are not the only places good to camp within a zone. With a little exploration, you may find many more prime spots.

To keep the zones from becoming too crowded, the park limits the number of parties allowed in each. Most zones allow only five parties; the extra large Orestimba Zone accommodates ten, and the smaller, more popular zones of Coit, Kelly, and Mississippi will take only three parties.

The newer Coyote Creek and Hunting Hollow entrances are even less structured. While you must register, you currently need not specify a zone. And since these access points are not consistently staffed, you often are self-registering, which means you might very well end up camping in an area already crowded with other backpackers. But since these areas are not as popular starting points (there being legitimate concerns about vandalism of cars left unattended), this is not generally a problem.

The zone system seems to work pretty well at giving people an uncrowded feeling. There have been Memorial Day Weekends when the Headquarters Campground is packed, all of the designated backpack sites are full, all zones within ten miles of the Visitor Center are full to quota (with some extra slots invented for the weekend by staff not wanting to turn people away). Afterwards, when backpackers are asked about their outings, they reply, "Great! Hardly saw anyone all weekend!"

For many backpackers, this is the most irritating regulation. If you have grown up on the lore of the Great Outdoors, your concept of camping is linked to sitting around the campfire in the evening, getting smoke in your eyes, blackening your pots, watching the sparks fly . . . But state parks are meant to have a greater amount of protection for the environment than other wild areas. It turns out that dead wood, far from being useless material, is extraordinarily valuable for wildlife. Some would say that a dead log has more life forms in it than a live tree. Since you can't depend on people to pack in their own wood to burn, it is administratively easier just to ban fires altogether.

Even with a camp stove, be extraordinarily careful with fire. You'll want to cook on an area free of anything flammable, such as on top of a large flat rock, on a sand bar, or in a small clearing. Even camp stoves can send up sparks, so if you are cooking in the dry season, take note of which way the wind is blowing, and if there is any chance that dry vegetation nearby might ignite, don't cook at all. In such times it is safer to cook only in early mornings, when air humidity is higher.

What about self-defense? Against what? Rattlesnakes? Rattlesnakes at Coe are not aggressive, and the only time they're going to bite you is if you're playing with them (people have done that!) or if you don't see them and step on them. (Most of the few reported rattlesnake bites have involved men picking them up. The classic story is that of the Boy Scout leader showing his troop how to safely pick up a rattler—and getting bit!). Keep your eyes open and leave them alone (they are protected by law along with other park wildlife) and they'll not bother you.

Mountain lions? Coe has them; they have never yet attacked humans. It could happen, sure. And you could also just happen to find the winning ten million dollar lottery ticket on the sidewalk in San Jose. But the likelihood of abuse of guns is so much greater than the remote possibility having one might help ward off a lion attack, that the state prohibits them entirely. (If a lion really wanted to get you, you wouldn't see it in time to use a gun!)

Other people? There have been petty thefts, there have certainly been rude park users, but dangerous maniacs have not, as a rule, found the park to their liking. Could happen, but if guns were allowed, you would be more likely to be shot by another camper with an overactive imagination than you were to be saved by having a gun. The most dangerous person that any visitor has ever encountered is usually the one they see in the mirror. In other words, the biggest hazard people face is their own bad judgment. The second biggest hazard is trusting in a companion with bad judgment. These are not generally considered to be hazards that can be lessened by carrying a weapon!

Dogs are not allowed in the backcountry, so leave your canine companion at home when you come to hike or backpack at Coe. (You are allowed to camp with your dog at the Coe Headquarters drive-in campground, but you are restricted to the short paved road, the parking lots, and one trail—the Live Oak Trail. Dogs are not allowed at the Hunting Hollow or Coyote Creek access points at all.) There are a multiplicity of reasons, many of which the most devout dog-lover finds hard to understand. They generally fall into two categories: park preservation and visitor safety.

In the first category, park preservation, is the determination that the presence of dogs adversely affects wildlife. Many dogs will instinctively run after wildife, and often their human companions are unwilling or unable to restrain them from this. True, all dogs don't do this, but how are park staff supposed to judge which dogs to allow and which not? Would you post a ranger or volunteer around every bend to catch the bad ones? It is much easier (and less costly) to keep them out of the backcountry altogether, especially since even the good dogs have the next impact: Signposting.

Dogs instinctively urinate at frequent intervals to mark their territory, an act known as signposting. That scent is quite apparent to native dogs such as coyotes and foxes, and native cats, such as cougars and bobcats, and quite likely to other large mammals as well. This has important consequences on wildlife patterns that are difficult for we humans to understand, since our sense of smell is poorly developed compared to these other mammals. It is perhaps best understood by analogy: Suppose you went home one day, and someone tacked their name over yours on your mailbox. First time, you might just grumble obscenities about vandals and put your name back over on top. Suppose it happened again, and again, by many different perpetrators, and you had no one to help you put a stop to it? You don't even know who does it half the time! And then they start putting their name on your house, your car, your lawn . . . You would either get so disturbed that you would move, or you would spend a lot of time and energy that you could more usefully spend doing other things defending your place from such impositions.

That is basically what happens if dogs are allowed in wildlands in any numbers. They signpost their territory with their scent (which is unique to every individual dog) thereby giving the wild mammals the message that there are numerous invaders on their turf, either driving them out (and probably into the territory of other mammals) or giving them added stress, which makes them more vulnerable to disease.

Speaking of disease, the third way the presence of large numbers of dogs could impact the park's inhabitants is by transmitting disease. A dog can have had "all of its shots", but that doesn't mean it cannot carry diseases that can be transmitted to native canines. As an analogy, smallpox was fatal to a relatively small percentage of Europeans, but when transmitted to Native Americans, wiped out whole populations. A dog could carry a disease which has little or no effect on itself, but which sickens or kills a coyote or fox.

There is also a visitor safety issue, in that many dogs in a strange environment will get overly protective of their human companions, and threaten or bite other users. This is especially difficult on narrow trails where there is no room for maneuvering. Most dogs are probably not that way, but how are you going to devise a fair test for deciding which dogs would get approved and which not?

All that said, it is probably true that if there were the will and funds for it, state parks could come up with a quota system whereby, say, two dogs per week, certified in advance to be friendly to all people and disinterested toward wildlife, could be allowed to use the park's trails with less impact than humans have on the environment. But with chronic staff shortages, even in good economic times, and more important issues of concern, don't expect any such system to be created! And the park does make an exception for guide dogs for the blind, and for search dogs (on an emergency search and rescue mission).

For long time park users in this country, this is a standard ethic which should not need to be said. However, the message doesn't seem to have gotten across to many younger people, for the worst amount of trash I've seen in backcountry campsites often contained wrappings for food items preferred by juveniles. So, the rule is: Pack it in, pack it out. After all, those food containers are a lot lighter now that you've eaten the food, so it shouldn't be such a big deal to take it out of there.

If you're tempted to leave behind food scraps "for the animals" think again. This probably won't hurt if you are camping way the heck up in the northern part of the Orestimba in an area which gets only a few dozen backpackers annually, but any place that is popular, such as in any of the designated campsites, and around the three most popular reservoirs (Mississippi, Coit, and Kelly) it could most certainly hurt the wildlife. The reason is that we leave behind our human scent on anything we touch. We can't smell it, but wild mammals can. If, say, a mouse or ground squirrel learns to associate human scent with food, they can take to raiding your camp supplies.

Not only is this inconvenient for you the camper, but increased contact with such rodents increases the possibility of your contracting a rodent-borne disease such as hantavirus (confirmed from the park) or plague (confirmed from near the park and not all that rare in California.) Currently, there are few areas in the park where you need to protect your food from animals, and these are all within a few miles from Coe headquarters, where the raccoons, especially, have learned to open zippers and enter tents. (I've had a raccoon unzip my tent to look for food while I was sleeping in the tent.) Keep the food away from the wildlife and they'll do just fine eating the natural food that has been available to them for millenia.

A special note to smokers: I'm amazed how many smokers who wouldn't dream of leaving behind a can or gum wrapper yet seem to feel that a cigarette butt is something okay to discard. No! Cigarette butts are litter like anything else, and you should pack them out. Perhaps a shirt-pocket size metal cannister would be just the thing to carry for that, so that you don't ignite your trash bag by mistake.

A final note: Since it is possible for anyone to be taken by surprise by the wind and have a couple of items of trash blown away before they can be nabbed, and since it is easy to overlook some scrap when packing up your camp, why not compensate for this by packing out a few extra items of other people's garbage? Then you can have a clear conscience.

This regulation is to keep the water from getting polluted. You can minimize your dish cleaning needs by eating out of your cooking pot, cooking no more than you can eat and eating as much as you can glean from the plate or pot with your spoon—or tongue!—and perhaps even using the same pot for boiling water for tea, coffee, or cocoa. No matter the technique, dump the water you used for cleaning the pot well away—100 feet or more—from bodies of water.

Much more needs to be said about burying "human waste." Perhaps a major reason that backpacking is not as popular as day hiking, is that the idea of baring one's butt to a hole in the ground in the wide open spaces (even the shrub-shrouded wide open spaces), and depositing your load in front of insects, birds and small mammals with beady eyes is positively frightening to those raised with the porcelain throne. To us pros, it is one of the more delightfully primal experiences about backpacking. For a thorough introduction to all aspects of this acquired skill, I recommend How To Shit in the Woods by Kathleen Meyer.

But here are a few pointers: Pack a trowel in with you. That ground can be awfully hard, and sturdy sticks for digging are not always at hand. If you are camping at Coe during the dry season, a metal trowel like you can find in a garden shop is, in my opinion, worth the extra weight it has over a plastic "backpacking" trowel. You most definitely want to dig a hole, a hole about four to six inches deep and at least six inches across is what you are aiming for. If you are one for whom the need comes on suddenly, you might like to dig your hole well in advance of need. The hole should be well away from water—and from water-courses, by which is meant dry ravines, sandy areas near streams subject to flooding, any place the water is going to flow during the rainy season. (I can't think of any sandy areas in the park which would not be off limits, since sand is associated with flowing water at Coe.)

If there is a grassy area nearby, you might be able to take advantage of nature's mining engineer, the pocket gopher, and dig a hole in the midst of a mound of soil loosened by a gopher. You would not want to use an open rodent hole for this purpose, however, because that is not only an inhospitable act toward the animal, but you might be exposing your backside to fleas, or even the sharp-toothed outraged rodent itself!

If you are camping off by yourself, it doesn't really matter whether you choose an open area or one shielded by trees or bushes. Since most people camp with friends and are thus presumably less likely to use open areas, I, who camp alone, prefer to use the open areas less impacted by other users.

Do not leave your feces uncovered. If you literally can't wait to dig a hole first (I know the feeling), go back and bury your load as soon as possible. Do not just cover your excretions with a rock. (A park maintenance worker, unfamiliar with backpacking etiquette, wrote a handout advising that you do this. This is contrary to the accumulated good sense of generations of backpackers, for probing animals will likely turn over the rock in their explorations.)

Burning toilet paper? Many backpacking authorities advise that you do this since toilet paper does not readily decompose. But these authorities seem to be used to backpacking in wetter climates than Coe. At Coe and in similar dry habitats, burning the TP is a bad idea except in the midst of the rainy season. One camper at Mississippi Lake, trying to be conscientious, started a brush fire a number of years ago when burning toilet paper during the dry season! (The California Division of Forestry firefighters were fortunately able to suppress it before it went too far.)

If you see one of the newly installed fancy outhouses near your camping area, it means that the area gets a lot of use, and that you should use it to avoid the extra impact on the area. Either that, or walk a good mile away from the camp area if you are one of the many who prefers the open air to a pit toilet.

This includes water from flowing streams and from springs as well as the more obvious stagnant water sources. Many park users are surprised that flowing water or water from springs should need to be purified. The main problem is Giardia, which is a parasite which is widespread across the country, and which can cause health problems, most notably diarrhea. It is spread in the feces of humans and other warm-blooded animals. Keep in mind that upstream from that clear flowing stream there may be cattle, or that some ignorant camper may have pooped two feet from the creek. Also, Giardia or other pathogens could get into the underground water supply, so that even springs can be unsafe.

A more common problem in springs is dead animals. Each developed spring has a "spring box", which is a wood-lined hole dug out of the hillside and which helps collect the water that flows out of the pipe, usually into a water trough. Sometimes the lids of the spring boxes are not closed tight and rodents can get in—and drown. You probably won't even know it! Or birds can drown in the steep-sided troughs if someone has removed the "critter-saver" boards that spring-maintenance volunteers leave in place to give birds something to escape on.

Boiling is probably the most effective way to have safe water. As a method for drinking water, it has the downside of requiring extra fuel, and you'll probably want to let the water cool down for several hours before drinking it. I use it in combination with other means, rather than as a primary source. For example, I often will take pasta or rice for meals; rather than using my hard-earned clean water to cook this food, I will just dip clear water out of a creek, spring trough, or even a pond to use. By the time it is cooked, any pathogens present will be extinct (just remember not to taste the food until it has boiled for several minutes). Similar, if I'm going to have a cup of tea, I will use the untreated water to start with.

The commercially available microfilters such as First Need, Katadyn, or Pur, are all effective in filtering out Giardia, and the first two claim the elimination of bacteria as well. To use, you find the cleanest looking source of water available, stick an intake tube into that source, and pump the filtered water into your clean container. The downside of filters is that they can be expensive ($50 to over $200) and add a fair amount of weight to your load (but not anything like the weight of packing in water.)

The third option is chemicals, such as chlorine or iodine-based compounds. These are light, cheap, and effective against Giardia and the most likely problem pathogens. But they can make the water taste bad (which you can mask by adding a powdered drink mix to your water) and you need to be sure to follow the directions to the letter, including noting the shelf expiration date. If you're going to be out more than a few hours from treated water, it is a good idea to have a backup system, so even if you use a filter or boiling as your primary means, throw in a bottle of chemical treatment as well.

Of course, if you run out of water on a hot day, and you've lost your means of purification (lost the tablets, out of camp fuel, filter is all clogged up), and your choice is between heat stroke today or the trots tomorrow, by all means, take a chance on drinking the clearest source of water you can find. I've done that and not had any ill effects.

Coe Park is rather bike-friendly compared to some other parks in the Bay Area. Only a few trails near Coe Headquarters are closed to bikes, plus the entire 23,000-acre Orestimba Wilderness. This leaves a "mere" 200 miles (plus or minus a few dozen miles) of trails and roads open to bikes.

Coe Park offers some of the most challenging mountain biking in the Bay Area. It is difficult for staff and volunteers to impart that concept to many first-time Coe mountain bikers (usually young men) whose reaction is "Yeah, Right. You're not talking to a wimp, I've done the tough hills before in plenty of other parks." Four or five hours later they plod into the visitor center in search of refreshments to buy, exhausted, muttering "Jeez those hills are tough!" Or they don't come in at all, but more experienced riders report that they are sitting exhausted along the road a few miles back down at Poverty Flat needing a ride out.

So the first advice I can give you is if you are going to ride Coe for the first time is Try a ride that seems easier than you think you can do at other parks. If it turns out to be too easy for you, you can always come back and try something more challenging later. But many a time I would advise first-time bikers at Coe who wanted to do the Blue Ridge Loop (about 16 miles with 4000 feet elevation gain) to try the Middle Ridge Loop instead (about 10 miles with 1800 feet elevation gain), and many a time did I have them come back in and tell me that they were glad they stuck to the shorter loop. I don't recall anyone ever coming back and saying, "Middle Ridge was too easy, I wish I had done the Blue Ridge loop instead."

The problem with starting at Coe Headquarters is that you are already starting at one of the higher points, and once you've gone down, down, downhill you're committed, and you may find that climbing back up a steep thousand foot hill is more exhausting than you expected. This is doubly true on warm summer days, even truer on hot summer days. The ranger's patrol vehicle is not equipped with bike racks for nothing (but don't expect a shuttle service when you are merely tired—the rangers need to keep themselves available for those who have serious emergencies, not for those who are just finding things are taking a few hours longer than they planned).

Beginning mountain bikers—people who have some experience riding bikes but who have not ridden on rough terrain before—are best off trying out the Hunting Hollow entrance. You can ride about three miles up the valley and gain less than 300 feet elevation. You will have a number of creek crossings, which as a beginner, you would want to walk across (during winter and early spring, these crossings may be impassable; there are no bridges). This route would probably be too rough for most small kids, but is about as easy as it gets at Coe. On quiet week days, the ride on the paved Gilroy Hot Springs Road between Hunting Hollow and the Coyote Creek gate is mostly flat (there is one hill about 100 feet high) and very pleasant, especially if Coyote Creek parallel to the road is flowing. I wouldn't take small kids on it unless you have them well-drilled for watching out for traffic, since the road is narrow and motor vehicles tend to drive down the middle.

If you are a beginner and find yourself starting at Coe Headquarters, you have two basic options: Following Manzanita Point Road all of the way out to the Manzanita Point Group Camp or starting on the Manzanita Point Road, but then turning on the Flat Frog Trail toward Frog Lake. Both routes start up a short, moderate hill which you'll probably have to walk up, then go downhill. It is about 2½ miles to Manzanita Point, and there are several short hills that are too steep for most small children. In typical Coe fashion, most of your climbing will be on the way back, and the hills, though moderate, will be too steep for beginners to ride up. [Photo: Bicyclist on Manzanita Point Road. Copyright © Gena Zolotar. Used with permission.]

Park volunteers sometimes send beginning bicyclists on to the Flat Frog Trail, since it is very flat (the name is meant to suggest that it is the flat trail to Frog Lake, with the humorously warped understanding that the name also evokes images of two-dimensional green amphibians). While this trail is a very easy grade, it is also narrow in some areas and has steep drop-offs that many beginners will find unnerving. For that reason it is dangerous for small children; adult beginners who haven't mastered the feel of travelling on dirt and making the wheels go the way they want had best stay off of it, too.

For intermediate level riders, I recommend taking Manzanita Point Road out to Manzanita Point, then continuing down the single-track China Hole Trail to Coyote Creek, and returning the same way. The trail is graded moderately enough that you'll be able to ride all or most all of it back up the hill—which you can't say about most Coe trails—and you'll have a 10 mile trip.

If you want something longer but with no steeper hills, take the same route, but cross Coyote Creek and go up the other side of the China Hole Trail to the top of Mahoney Ridge. This will add another 4½ miles to your total if you come back the same way. The temptation that some find irresistable is that once they get up on Mahoney Ridge, they decide to return a different way: via Lost Spring Trail, Los Cruzeros, and Poverty Flat Road. This is within the scope of an intermediate rider, but be forewarned, this is a much, much more difficult way to come back. You will not be able to ride up most of the roads on the way back, and you have added about 600 feet in elevation gain (even while cutting off about half a mile of distance) and it will take more out of you.

The Middle Ridge Loop is a tough intermediate ride with fairly technical downhill singletrack that will not disappoint the more advanced riders. You start at Coe Ranch Headquarters, take Manzanita Point Road, turn left on the Flat Frog Trail, then follow Hobbs Road to Middle Ridge. You then have a few miles of up and down single-track on Middle Ridge, then downhill all the way to Poverty Flat. Return is by Poverty Flat Road and Manzanita Point Road. Intermediate riders should allow about 2-3 hours for this loop.

From Hunting Hollow, a good intermediate-level route (if you take your time) could be called the Wagon-Wasno-Jackson Loop (or WaWaJack, for short). Start at the Hunting Hollow parking area, ride up the gentle Hunting Hollow road, then turn up on Wagon Road for a steep 800 foot elevation climb to the top of Phegley Ridge. Then you drop down over 500 feet, then almost immediately climb up another steep 600 foot hill past Willson Ranch. Why am I sending you, an intermediate rider, on so many steep hills? Because once you have reached Willson Ranch, all of the major long steep grades are now behind you! You can now follow ridges for many miles with either gentle hills or only short steep portions. From Wagon Road, you take a turn on to Wasno Road. Near the end of Wasno, you turn on to Jackson, which starts out as a road and makes a steep but short (compared to the hills behind you) ascent, then turns into a trail shortly after descending. You drop down about 1500 feet in elevation on the recently constructed Jackson Trail, single track with splendid views across the canyon, and moderate enough that you can even take your eyes off the trail long enough to enjoy the scenery now and again. You return to the Hunting Hollow parking area via Coit Road and Gilroy Hot Springs Road.

What about getting to the lakes? Especially Kelly, Coit, and Mississippi lakes? They are all accessible for intermediate level riders who may not be highly skilled at single-track if they have stamina or lots of time to rest along the way. It is much easier to start at Hunting Hollow than from Coe Headquarters. You can get to Kelly and Coit lakes via Coit Road. You'll have some major climbing, but it will be moderate compared to what Coe can give you. (There are shorter ways, but they are steeper and use harder to find trails which I don't recommend for a first visit.)

To get to Mississippi Lake, the way to go on a bike is to follow Coit Road past Coit Lake all the way to County Line Road. You'll climb up three ridges to get there, but the road is graded very moderately. Then you follow Mississippi Ridge almost all of the way to the lake on County Line Road, riding only moderate to gentle grades. Return the same way. The Roller Coaster Ridge or Pacheco Ridge alternatives are much tougher.

Again, I call this Mississippi Lake ride suitable for intermediates only if you have exceptional stamina or can spend the whole day for the trip, to allow time for snacking, relaxing, and otherwise regenerating. The big hills are not very steep, but may be long, and there is no singletrack. This route is longer, but easier, than the grueling ride from Coe Headquarters.

For all levels of riders: If you are going to ride farther than you can walk your bike, be sure to carry all of the tools needed to cope with mechanical problems, and know how to use them. Some roads are not travelled by staff for days; you cannot depend on being able to get a ride out if you get a flat tire or have problems with your gears; nor can you expect cell-phones to have coverage throughout the park.

The most common question asked of park staff about horseback riding is "Do you rent horses?" The answer is "no," and there are no stables nearby that rent horses. That could change in future years, and the park administration has, in the past, even been amenable to the idea of granting a concessionaire the right to establish stables for horse rentals or guided tours in Hunting Hollow. (The park would get a portion of the proceeds from such a concession.) But given the hazardous nature of many of the existing trails out of Hunting Hollow, I wonder if the cost of insurance for rentals might make such a venture prohibitively expensive to the operator? (A similar consideration would discourage someone from renting mountain bikes in the park). Perhaps if the area becomes popular enough, a concessionaire might find it profitable to offer guided horse trips.

Meanwhile, if you want to ride horses at Coe, you need to bring your own (or befriend some equestrian who has an extra mount). The new Hunting Hollow access is great for equestrians, because it is much easier to haul in a horse trailer there than up the winding, narrow road to the Coe Headquarters entrance. And the Hunting Hollow parking area has plenty of room for turning around. [Photo: Equestrians crossing creek near Hunting Hollow parking area. Copyright © Gena Zolotar. Used with permission.]

As of yet, there is no drive-in campground for horses at Hunting Hollow. You can ride in and camp ½ mile or more from the parking area, but backcountry rules apply, which means, among other things, no fires and no dogs. You can also ride in much farther to a designated horse camp. Complete rules and recommendations are available at the Coe Park website.

All of the narrow trails closed to mountain bikes are also closed to horses, plus the Middle Ridge Trail as well. These trails are all within a few miles of Coe Headquarters and are not of much concern to anyone starting out from Hunting Hollow. On the other hand, the Orestimba Wilderness, closed to bikes, is open to horses. (Trojan horses, since they are mechanical in operation, would presumably be banned, however.)

In addition to backpacking, you can also camp in the drive-up campground at Coe Headquarters. Relative to many other public campgrounds, the sites are rather close. Compared to many private campgrounds, the sites are much better spaced. Most sites have only small trees to shade them, but there are also ramadas that provide shade for most (but not all) which lack trees.

Yours truly coordinated a tree-planting project beginning in the campground in November 1992, with the goal of converting the rather open knoll into woodland. Only locally native trees and shrubs were planted, all from local genetic stock. Many of these trees exceed twenty feet in height and produce significant shade except in the middle of the day, and many shrubs which were either planted or allowed to remain after "volunteering" (sprouting without human aid) screen campers from each other. It will probably be at least 2012 before anyone can call much of the campground "shady." [Photo: The campground from Manzanita Point Road. Copyright © Gena Zolotar. Used with permission.]

It has been considered a "primitive" campground because there are no electrical or sewage hookups, but recently, restrooms with flush toilets and showers have been built. "Primitive" is all in the eye of the beholder, though, for the piped water, fire rings, picnic tables, toilets, and paved parking spaces all look pretty damn civilized to the backpacker! [Photo: Site 16, fairly well screened now by trees and shrubs. Copyright © Gena Zolotar. Used with permission.]

From the campground you can enjoy great views. Being on a hilltop, it also usually gets a breeze which moderates summer heat a bit and makes the flies less irritating. (These are not usually biting flies, but small, get in your eyes, ears, nose, and mouth flies; mosquitoes are uncommon.) But you are also more exposed to winter and spring storms in this campground, so there are tradeoffs.

While they are not prohibited, the campground was not designed with trailers or large RVs in mind, so there are no pull through sites or parking spots designed for readily backing into. Tent campers may actually appreciate it all the more because it is not a place where they find themselves in the minority, surrounded by metal homes. [Photo: Campsite 8 viewed from site 3, with sites 14 and 9 at right. Copyright © Gena Zolotar. Used with permission.]

Like other public campgrounds, there can be problems with noise. There is no gate closing and no camp host, so there is nothing to stop someone from driving in, getting drunk, and partying—unless another camper takes the time to knock on the door of the resident ranger, or phone 9-1-1 from the pay phone at the visitor center or their own cell phone. I would guess that this would happen at least once a month during the busier March-May season, sometimes once per week, and more infrequently the rest of the year.

The other problem has been raccoons. They are bold, and will actually walk up to your food, while you are there, and take it. They will also enter open doors or windows of your car in search of food. The little buggers know how to open zippers on tents, so it is not good to store food inside. The worst thing you can do is leave food for them in hopes that they will get enough to eat and leave you alone. This only encourages them more, and is prohibited. If people are not around to feed them, they leave the campground and go forage for wild food in other areas, as their ancestors have done for millenia.

The campground usually only fills on spring weekends, and on a few other major three-day weekends such as Independence Day and Labor Day. The sites are reservable on the Reserve America website or by calling 1-800-444-PARK (7275). If you call, be sure that you are reserving for Henry W. Coe, not Henry Cowell Redwoods!

If you're looking for a place you can drive to, park, and take a few steps to a nearby lake for a refreshing dip—Coe is not the place for you. If you are looking for swimming opportunities while you backpack, hike, or bike, Coe can be the place. All of the best swimming places are a good distance in. If you just want a few wading opportunities for small kids, the Hunting Hollow access may work for you, at least in spring. The creek which drains Hunting Hollow usually dries up by summer, but when it is flowing, it is just a few steps from the parking area.

One might think that with with dozens of ponds and lakes throughout the park, it would have lots of places to swim. But how much do you like muck? The ponds all have muddy bottoms and most are not lined with boulders, but with aquatic plants, so access to open water is not always easy. The best for swimming is probably Coit Lake. Mississippi Lake is probably the next best, though its steep-sided shores dropping quickly into deep water require confidence in your buoyancy. You definitely should not think of Frog Lake in connection to swimming opportunities, though; not only is it mucky and blessed with pondweed, but since it has been fished for decades and there are a number of snags in it, you risk running into old fishing line and lost fish hooks.

My favorite swimming holes are in the creeks. There are some within a short walk from the Coyote Creek entrance, but this gate is not open at present due to lack of funding, and the county does not want people parking along the narrow road outside the park. A prime swimming hole five miles from Coe Headquarters is China Hole. In spring and summer it is bordered by wonderful sandy shores, and there are many smooth rocks on which to warm up in the sun after a cool dip. There are also some nice pools up the East Fork of Coyote Creek in the Narrows and near Los Cruzeros in the spring. There are some good pools in the Middle Fork of Coyote Creek just downstream from Skeels' Meadow and just upstream from Upper Camp, too.

Farther in, for backpackers, the North Fork of Pacheco Creek has some good pools both upstream and downstream from Pacheco Creek Crossing. (These are seasonally accessible to day hikers who park at Dowdy Ranch, reached from the Bell Station entrance.) The confluence of Red Creek and the South Fork Orestimba Creek has some refreshing spots for a dip. At the northeast corner of the park within half a mile from the boundary are some prime swimming holes that are as good as China Hole; perhaps better if you prefer solitude. Finally, no section on swimming opportunities in the park would be complete without a mention of Barry's Bathtub. This is a deep hole near the mouth of Pinto Creek deep in the Orestimba Wilderness, named for Ranger Barry Breckling.

One of the real joys of swimming in the wilds is doing so free of clothing. Is there a problem with doing this at Coe? There could be, if you are doing so where someone might complain. The law still favors the warped notion of the "indecent" body—where the tantalizing next to nothing is legal, but the matter-of-fact state of nudity is somehow offensive. State Park policy does not automatically penalize nude bathing unless someone complains and the "offender" refuses to dress. If you enjoy skinny-dipping, you can help keep the peace with other park users by choosing discrete areas. I figure that if I've taken the trouble to hike a mile off trail to reach a hidden pool, no one else has a right to be too bothered—even if surprised.

While there are no restrictions on where you can swim (if you want to swim in a mucky pond, feel free!) there is a ban on diving in all state parks in California. This ban used to include jumping feet-first as well as headfirst, but now only headfirst diving is prohibited. The regulation is intended to save lives and prevent severely disabling injuries or death resulting from divers hitting submerged rocks. Most people are more used to diving in artificial swimming pools with known and consistent depths and many are not skilled at discerning the depth of greenish creek or lake waters. Also there is a "group dynamics" factor, where people in the excitement of a group in an exhilarating activity like swimming try out things they are not skilled at doing.

I saw this in action myself as a boy visiting a National Forest in the Sierra Nevada. A group of kids were playing in Dinkey Creek. My family, walking on a creekside trail upstream, saw one of them dive into the water. By the time we reached the swimming hole, we saw the boy laying on a rock next to the creek with his father over him. The story we heard was that he dived in on a dare, but so seriously injured his head and neck that he died.

Like any other park which preserves the natural features of an area, Coe is an excellent place for nature study. Coe Park is particularly good in that there is so much space with a wide variety of habitats. During the years I worked there, it was rather underused by organized groups such as the California Native Plant Society and the Audubon Society. I don't have an explanation for this except that the members of these groups are unfamiliar with the park, and that some of the more interesting areas botanically or ornithologically are a good hike in.

But there are at least four semi-rare species of plants of special interest to amateur botanists which can be found within a mile of a parking area, so that should be a good incentive for even the less mobile among them. These are Santa Clara Thornmint (Acanthomintha lanceolata) found at the Coyote Creek entrance; Brewer's Clarkia (Clarkia breweri) also at the Coyote Creek entrance; Santa Clara Red Ribbons (Clarkia concinna ssp. automixa) readily seen along the Forest Trail on Pine Ridge and a little farther out along the Flat Frog Trail; and Chaparral Harebell (Campanula exigua), which grows along the road near the Coyote Creek entrance.

The park itself promotes nature study with guided walks and evening programs presented by volunteers and occasionally by genuine rangers. Especially popular are the Sunday wildflower walks in the spring and the tarantula walks in the fall, (at least one led by volunteer Larry Haimowitz) when the large friendly fuzzy and much misunderstood arachnids are frequently seen. The hike leader will even show you how to safely hold one! (The park's annual fall barbecue was not all that popular until Ranger Barry Breckling came up with the idea to give it a tarantula theme, and now it is the popular annual TarantulaFest.)

Similarly, long-time volunteer Gary Keller enjoys talking about Coe's snakes and showing off his pets. It is great to see the more snake-timid of his audience members getting up the courage to first touch, then even hold a snake; life-long fears crumble before your eyes at Gary's talks.

The Pine Ridge Association also has a number of free handouts available on these topics, including trees, ticks, and oaks. At the Visitor Center at Coe Headquarters, there are many books you can check out which can help you learn more about the park's inhabitants; you can even borrow a pack to carry them in (suitable for kids or smaller adults). And the bookstore in the Visitor Center stocks an extensive selection of books on natural history relevant to Coe Park.

Astronomy can come under this heading, and the park is frequently used by amateur astronomers, especially by the San Jose Astronomical Association. They usually meet near Coe Heaquarters at the Entrance Parking area and are usually happy to share their views of galaxies, nebulas, planets, and other remote entities with any park visitors wandering out in the dark among them. Other amateur skywatchers may also frequent the park: One of the rare times that the Headquarters Campground will fill up in summer is during the Perseid meteor showers in August, when folks come up to enjoy the spectacle.

Coe Park was first established in 1953 by the donation of the Pine Ridge Ranch by Sada Coe Robinson, in part in tribute to her father Henry W. Coe, Jr. and other ranching pioneers of the region. Sada also donated the funds to build a museum (the current Visitor Center) which highlights the history of the area, particularly the ranching history. Since Coe Headquarters preserves a number of historic buildings as well, Coe is a good place to gain an appreciation of this vanishing or altered way of life. The oldest structure is a barn dating back to the late 1800s, and the ranch house itself still stands; it was built in 1905. You can get a tour in words and original drawings of these historic structures by picking up a copy of Harry Coe's Pine Ridge Ranch, written by former volunteer Bob Kelley and illustrated by Rosse Hemeon, who was also a volunteer.

But the story of human occupation in the region did not begin with the ranchers. These hills and valleys were inhabited (at least seasonally) for centuries if not millenia before the arrival of European-descended settlers. Some archeologists believe that the west side of present-day Coe Park was inhabited by the Ohlone people, while the east side was the territory of the Yokuts. Evidence of their existence is seen in the occasional mortars (grinding rocks) you can find at such places as Lion Spring, in blackened soil from years of campfires, from the occasional arrowhead or ancient human bone. On the east side of the park, you can even see house pits—places the people had dug out and constructed a hut over; having a pit gave the habitation more insulation from summer heat or winter cold.

Henry W. Coe State Park, California An unofficial website created by Lee Dittmann and published by Mindbird Maps & Books
Home Page	Photo Tour	Location Map	Recreation
Trip Reports	Publications	Free Maps	Staff
Wildlife	Plants	Coe Songs	Donations
You can help support the development and maintenance of this website by your purchases of maps, books, optics, all-weather journals, and other wonderful items from the publisher's website, www.mindbird.com. The site is dominated by the large selection of maps, which include trail and topo maps for parks and forests throughout the country, as well as raised relief maps of many US states and mountainous regions in the western and eastern US; wall maps of the USA and World, geologic maps, international travel maps, US state road maps, city street maps, and much more—almost all at discount prices.