I took this photo when I went on a bike ride the other day. The foreground is the ridge that constitutes the foothills of Fremont Peak & the northern extent of the Gavilan range. Below is the San Juan valley, the town out of sight to the left. The Eastern end of the Lomerias Muertas separates the San Benito valley & the City of Hollister. On the horizon the old volcanic peaks of the Diablo Range separate us from the Great Central Valley. Barely visible on the right are the tops of big cumulus clouds, probably rising over the summer heat of the Central Valley, but when I see those I always wonder if they might be lifting over the Sierra Nevada 200 miles away.

       I got a late afternoon start after spending the morning doing what I’ll call a laundry exploration of San Juan. It was the first day I used the laundry here in the apartments, and also I went to the coin laundry in town for the first time to use the heavy duty machines to wash futon covers & stuff. While the machines were going I walked over to the post office to check my mail.
       My intention when I started on the bike ride was to just go across the highway & locate the trailhead I had heard about, then maybe go up a mile or so to see what it was like. I ended up going all the way to the top of the ridge. To call it a bike ride is not quite accurate, I pushed my bike most of the way since it is a steady steep climb, almost a thousand feet.
       It’s called the Juan Bautista De Anza Historic Trail, and it is, in fact, the old stagecoach road between San Juan and Salinas and on to Monterey, beginning in the days when Monterey was the capital and San Juan was a major crossroads. I knew this for sure when I got up to the sections where the road was lined with big old Monterey Cypress trees, native to the immediate coast but only found this far inland when they are planted.
       When I was resting at the top I saw two women hiking up from the other side. I thought I was joking when I asked “Did you come from Salinas?” But they said “Yes, it’s about a mile and a half up to here.”

       It was late in the afternoon by then and on the Salinas Valley side the lowering sun was about to collide with the rising fog, so I rode my brakes back down the dirt track & explored some of the roads in the fields on the way home.

       The buckeye is a little tree with a unique beauty. It looses its leaves early in the dry season, sometimes with spikes of white flowers still finishing their bloom. When the leaves dry & fall, the attractive form of its smooth branches are exposed, often with its golf ball sized seeds still hanging. With the first rains it sprouts lush & green, a first harbinger of Spring.

       I have a feeling I will be coming back to this place to photograph the seasons, it is so close to home.