RANCHO SECO HOWARD RANCH TRAIL

Lou found an article in the newspaper describing a 7-mile loop trail near Rancho Seco, the long closed nuclear plant between Stockton and Sacramento. Yesterday we decided to give it a try since it would be a good tune up for our trip to Germany next month. It was a mostly flat hike through lush green pastureland. This time of year there are lots of wildflowers as well as numerous vernal pools.

“What is a vernal pool?” I asked Lou. “I’m not real sure,” was his answer. After some online research it seems that vernal pools form when rainwater fills depressions in the land – basically they are big puddles. But they are puddles in which fairy shrimp, tadpoles and salamanders can grow. In some areas of California wildflowers ring the pools – as they dry up a carpet of colorful blossoms fills the indentation.

It's early and hard to see, but this is an outline of a vernal pool.

The newspaper and website directions left quite a bit to be desired. After being led on a wild goose chase to the wrong park, a nice employee directed us to the correct location. Even that wasn’t marked well but we eventually found the Howard Ranch Trailhead about an hour later than we planned.

Here is a redwing blackbird at the "wrong park".

We started off down the trail armed with our backpacks and cameras. The first mile zigzags along scenic Rancho Seco Lake with the twin reactors dominating the landscape. 

A fisherman stands on his raft on Rancho Seco Lake.

The Rancho Seco nuclear plant in the background of Howard Ranch.

One of the wooden bridges along the Howard Ranch Trail.

About two miles into the loop trail you enter Howard Ranch, a working cattle ranch, through a metal gate. The cows seemed fascinated as they eyed us walking past. Cows are normally docile creatures but I was reminded of a time when my father, my sister and I were chased by a mother cow with a baby while hiking in the Hayward hills. I was probably 10 years old and my sister about 5. When the cow started charging at us, my dad snatched up my sister and we ran to a nearby fence. He almost threw her over the fence and gave me a boost as he hurdled it before the irate mother arrived.

One of the cows who seemed quite interested in us.

The weather was great – overcast and not too warm – although we would have preferred some blue sky and puffy clouds for our photos. We counted at least seven tiny varieties of white, yellow, purple and magenta wildflowers lining the trail and wooden bridges. Here are some of the beautifully detailed little flowers.

We took lots of pictures and enjoyed the beautiful wide open spaces of the cattle ranch. As is the case with lots of cows, there is lots of cow poop – LOTS! We had to keep our eyes moving up and down to make sure we avoided the “meadow muffins” and the deep indentations that cow hooves make in the mud.

It was a wonderful hike with gorgeous scenery for about 5 miles – unfortunately it is a 7 mile trek. I looked ahead to comment on something or other when my right foot suddenly turned into a cow hoof hole spraining my ankle. As I stumbled and hopped trying to keep my balance, I think my exact words as I fell to the ground were, “ow….OW…..OW….F*CK!

I’m pretty sure Lou asked if I was okay before he commented that my hand had come to rest on a meadow muffin. I replied, “It is a dry one and that is the least of my problems right now since I have to walk two miles to the car unless you’re planning to carry me.”

I’m pretty much an expert on sprained ankles having had numerous ones throughout my life. This one was a medium bad one. As I attempted to stand up, I reached for Lou and said, “Help me up, please.” He replied, “I’m not touching that hand.” I shook my head, rolled my eyes and said, “Then grab my wrist, but I need help to get up.”

Once on my feet, I gingerly took a few steps and determined that I should be able to walk back to the car. It was a slow two miles but I made it with minimal pain. I know from experience if you keep moving it’s not as bad – besides what choice did I have? Back home I elevated and iced it. Today it is swollen about twice the normal size, hurts when I walk and looks really ugly. But hopefully I’ll be none the worse for wear in a few weeks. Never a dull moment.

BASEBALL & GOLF

I am a sports fan. Those of you who know me understand that is probably an understatement.  There is something enthralling about good competition with all its twists and turns and unexpected outcomes. Sports have been my connection with my father…..sports had the ability to take my mind off of my mother when she was dying even if it was just for a few minutes……sports were the connection with my son these past Olympics when we called each other at midnight to discuss the curling match! My daughter-in-law said he (and I) were Olympic sports junkies. Yep, that’s about  right.

Today I was in sports heaven. Lou had recorded the Giants home opener when they hung the World Champions flag in the outfield on Friday (I was working and couldn’t watch it live). What an incredibly emotional and amazing ceremony at the ballpark. Giants great Willie Mays delivered the championship flag to manager, Bruce Bochy.

The legendary Willie Mays begins the flag raising ceremony.

There is the quote in the movie “A League of Their Own” where Tom Hanks tells one of his female players that, “There is no crying in baseball.” Well, he’s wrong. There is most definitely crying in baseball when you are watching the Giants celebrate their first series win in 54 years in San Francisco! I know because I was sniffling and wiping my eyes the entire time and I wasn’t alone. J

All of the players lined up down the foul line…..Bochy handed the flag to the first player. Each one in turn passed the folded World Championship flag to the next player….that went on through 30 - 40 players and coaches down the line. As the flag approached the end of the line, pitcher Sergio Romo took it and kneeled in reverence as he handed it up to Brian Wilson, our eccentric “Fear the Beard” closer. Wilson took the flag, sprinted across the outfield and up a ladder into the stands.

From there he was escorted by security guards through the bleachers to the flagpoles in centerfield as he high-fived fans and employees along the way. They clipped the flag to the pole and Brian raised it hand over hand to the top as Queen’s “We are the Champions” blared over the loudspeakers. The entire stadium was in awe of their team. What a moment!



Brian Wilson raising the World Champions flag in centerfield.

Still emotional from watching that recording, I turned on the Master’s……one of golf’s four major tournaments. The setting is exquisite…..multicolored azaleas in full bloom, ponds and stone bridges among the green trees and shrubbery of Augusta, Georgia. I can’t say that I am a huge fan of golf BUT I am a sports fan and understand that pretty much anything can be enthralling and exciting. And this was an incredibly exciting afternoon of golf!



Azaleas in bloom at Augusta National Golf Club - home of the Master's.

As the afternoon wore on, more and more golfers came into contention for the title. The 21 year old Northern Ireland man, Rory McIlroy, who led after the third round self-destructed shooting an 80 (horrible for the pros). Tiger got hot as did many other golfers……at one point nine players were within two shots with 4 or 5 holes to play. The experts admitted they had no idea who might win as it neared the finish. A South African man, Charl Schwartzel, managed to squeeze out a win over two young Australians to win the coveted green jacket of Master’s fame.

All in all it was a great sports day…….just what I needed a day to veg out in front of the TV and watch my favorite things!