Trip report: Sunol Regional Wilderness & Elliston Vineyards

Late last week I alluded to an upcoming local winehiking event organized by somebody other than myself. When I learned about it, and seeing that it was billed as a “Wine Hike”, I knew I had to attend. Attend I did, too, despite latent health concerns.

I had met our host, JD, a time or two earlier this year. Having walked a few miles in his company, I had a notion that he’d put a fun event together. I didn’t miss my guess. Meanwhile, there had been a wind advisory Saturday morning for 50mph breezes in the East Bay Hills – precisely where JD’s group was headed.

I’d been dealing with an onerous chill the past two days from a night out on Wednesday, yet had gotten plenty of sleep, good food, and vitamins in the interim, and though not feeling entirely vibrant, I dressed warmly, in layers, and felt reasonably ready for the trail. Despite the wind not doing my physical health any favors, the long-range visibility it brought to the Bay Area skies managed to buoy my mood the entire day. In fact, the open terrain with its broad views, our friendly group of dog people and their owners and the winery visit that followed all managed to imbue us – dogs and people alike – with an enchanting feeling that seemed to carry us through the day in high spirits.

Our group met first for breakfast at the Sunol Coffee House, a place where twelve people should perhaps not convene. Well, except for the fact that it is the only place in the tiny town of Sunol at which to grab a prepared meal before noon. Finally, however, after more than 90 minutes’ lingering over breakfast (and waiting implausibly long for it), we consolidated cars and bodies and dogs and hightailed ourselves over to Sunol Regional Wilderness, a drive of about 5 miles, for a moderately short but hilly romp among its freshly rain-drenched green hills. And the day got better.

Upon the trail, we were at once fascinated by the walk along the lower stretches of Indian Joe Creek, where we were greeted by venerable old sycamores, their leaves scudding by our ears on the down-canyon breeze.

A little while later, up a gentle incline toward the head of Indian Creek, we came upon an outcrop known locally as the Cave Rocks.

The local bird population at Cave Rocks had moved on for the winter, but not before raising the roof on their fencepost accommodations one last time.

I really love pastoral views such as the one below, made complete by the presence of interesting cows. Judging by their regard for us as we walked by, those cows found us interesting too.

Those cows. Despite their obvious obstacles and pitfalls – aromatic and otherwise – they keep the grass finely cropped over nearly the entire expanse of the East Bay Hills. Maybe they just do their cud-to-mud thing so they can have such a fine view as this. It affords us some splendor, too, I reckon. We tend to take advantage of cows.

That’s the City of San Francisco in the frame below, shining dimly in the western distance across San Francisco Bay from our vantage point. Framed by San Bruno Mountain on the left and Mt. Tamalpais, across the Golden Gate on the right, The City is not something you get used to seeing from here in the haze of summertime.

After a couple hours of gentle hillclimbing, we behold the official cairn that marks Cerro Este Overlook. At 2038 feet, this rockpile marks a high point on the Cerro Este Trail, though it’s apparent we could climb higher from here (but only the cows do that). Our view here faces slightly north of east.

I clambered atop the rockpile and snapped a photo of our erstwhile hikin’ folk, facing southwest toward the earthen dam of Calaveras Reservoir and the Santa Cruz Mountains beyond. The astute of focus may observe that the wind hadn’t yet died down; it was in fact causing a few of us to ward off the breezy chill by donning windbreakers.

I rested a moment. I’d volunteered early on to be the sweeper – that responsible but lonely soul who brings up the rear and makes sure that everyone else in the group is accounted for. It’s a rough job, and everyone must eventually stop and wait for you time and again, but “soloing off the rear,” as we used to call it in my cycling days, affords some grand picture-taking opportunities. I didn’t mind it a bit. Hope nobody else did.

We arrive, finally, at the bottom of Cerro Este Trail at its junction with Canyon View Trail and Alameda Creek. In the narrowness below this junction that is the outflow of a serpentine schist canyon dubbed Little Yosemite, it is hard not to notice the beauty and fire of a young sycamore, brilliantly shining from its midstream rock perch. And then I spotted a cave, and a child’s voice spoke to me.

“Wanna go in there?”

“I’m not going in there. YOU go in there.”

“I’M not going in there!”

Instead, we all decided to go in here – the tasting room of Elliston Vineyards, located just up the road from the bustling metropolitan hub of downtown Sunol (pop. 748). This 100-year-old stone Victorian home has been retrofitted inside and out to include a tasting bar and updated landscaping. The grounds and the period furnishings are indeed quite nice, but I think they could plow some of their upgrade dollars into their wine list, too. I think their winemaker has an overly sweet tooth.

After our visit to Elliston, it was time to cap our day with a stop at Bosco’s Bones & Brews of Sunol, a beer and rib joint that’s been around since who flung the chunk. Mayor Bosco, unfortunately, is no longer among the living, but he lives on to dispense age-old wisdom, in the form of Michelob Dark, from his hind quarters.

Yes, you read it right: the bartender in the shot below has just caused Bosco to pee into my glass. (Bosco is now taxidermed for all eternity, or at least until the beer runs out.)

It’s not pretty when Bosco lifts his leg, but it is pretty special to experience this rural legend at least once. I suppose it’s the best damn dog piss I ever drank. Chalk up another one on my Life List.

~winehiker

Related posts:

• Trip report: Sunol Regional Wilderness
• Trip report: Nisene Marks State Park & Burrell School Vineyards
• Trip report: California hikin’ on a winter’s day

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 6th, 2006 at 10:15 am and is filed under grape squeezins, winehiker's trails. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.