Sycamore leaves have a subtle, resiny, cinnamony/nutmegy scent—this is one of the plants I have fantasies about making into soap or incense. Talk about a labor of love, you'd have to spend hours wildcrafting leaves just to gather enough to make a couple of soaps, but wouldn't they be wonderful? Sycamores just kill me—they're so gorgeous and I don't want to get too freaky here, but they have a magical warm vibe... do you think trees can have a vibe? Call me a new age freak or hippie idiot, I don't care—if you spend enough time around plants you pick up on something about them. Douglas firs are loose; if they were a fabric they'd be cheesecloth. These trees feel tight like muslin, and they've just got a touch of summery magic to them...

If that isn't botanical magic, I don't know what is. Of course you can't feel it because you're sitting in front of your computer—you should get out on the trail, use your animal senses and feel something real. Moving on to another star of the native plants constellation, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Buckeye. If there was an US magazine for native plants, Sycamore would be Kate Winslet and Buckeye would be Scarlet Johansson, and don't get me started about Scarlet...

Transplants from the Northeast are always bitching about how there are no seasons in California and how the leaves don't change colors, but they're just not paying attention. Buckeyes along with Sycamores are another prime example of Western deciduous trees, and I'll pit these against a Vermont Maple any day. Buckeyes are unbelievably gorgeous in every season; here we see them in all their sparse pagan winter glory, but in spring they burst forth with impossibly showy flower spikes. I'll show you, just give me a month, but for now, here are the new leaf buds...

This is a new hike for me, and I did it because it's on Bay Area Hiker's favorites list, but I have to say as a native plant enthusiast, while the views are fine and everything this is not quality native plant habitat. What is it with the East Bay Regional Parks District and cows? I'm all for cows on private ranch land, but there are 8 million people in the Bay Area and this is our public land—why are our limited public lands in the East Bay overrun by the bovine nation? I'd like to point out that public lands in Marin (north of San Francisco) and San Mateo/Santa Cruz counties (south of San Francisco) are not in this kind of condition. It's actually difficult to find hikes in the East bay that aren't munched down to the dirt. Since state parks are much less bovine inclined, Mt. Diablo is by far the best example of the kind of wild habitat that the we cold have here in the East Bay if we got rid of the frickin' cows. Witness trampled ground...

The thing about cows is that the same boring exotic European weeds follow them wherever they go. These invasives follow the cows because cattle carry the seeds in their guts and because cows chew everything else into the ground and the only plants that can survive their relentless, mindless assault are the ones that have co-evolved with the bovinely-inclined. In the picture above, we see European Geraniums surrounding a native Soap Plant (Plantago spp.) on ground that's been compressed beyond help by ruminators.

If you ask a EBRPD official, why the cows, they'll tell you that cattle mimic native ungulates such as antelope that once grazed in our local hills. And this is a good point—our landscape did co-evolve with grazers, but the difference between antelope and cattle is that antelope munch and move on. If you give a cow a stream, it's like giving a stoney college kid a couch, tv and pint of ice cream—it ain't going nowhere and it's going to eat everything in sight. And what we see in the picture above is exactly what you get when you don't hustle them along by fencing off riparian zones and moving them around.

This is a common sign on EBRPD land—"resouce protection area"—my ass! So let me get this straight: The EBRPD is saying that we can't hike on this measly little trail because it would damage the delicate ecology, but it's OK for hundreds of 1k+ pound mammals to wonder freely? C'mon, this is cynical—just say it EBRPD: you don't give a shit about ecology, you just don't want the hikers bothering the cows.

One plant that cows don't eat (but goats do!) is Poison Oak. And after seeing the endless Milk Thistle, Cheat Grass, Geranium, Poison Hemlock and other usual bovine survirvor suspects, I was thrilled to see this native plant even if it isn't on everyone's list of local favorites.

I always like showing native plants in their geographical and larger ecological context because I think it's just as important to be able to identify plants by morphological features as by their floral parts. Botanists identify plants by looking through microscopes at floral parts, but you don't have a microscope, nor did any of our ancestors for our 50,000 year history as a species, even though our pre-Galilean ancestors had a much more intimate relationship with plants. It's nice to know plants in as many ways as possible, one of which is being able to pick them out by how they look from a distance.... Here's another hardy native that has managed to survive the bovine assault Gooseberry/Currant...

The leaves of this plant make for a great tea, and the berries are delicious as syrup and jelly. Here it is in context with San Jose's skyline in the background, nice pic huh?

I have different criteria for hikes. For biodiversity, ecology and native plants, this hike is kind of a dud. But if you live nearby and you're just looking for nice views, an easy, wide fire road and a good workout (1800 ft+ elevation gain), this is a fine hike. I hike the Sea View trail in Tilden for similar reasons—it may not be a shining example of native habitat, but sometimes you just need a good workout.

I'd recommend ignoring the EBRPD signs and taking the single track, as it is much more scenic and interesting than the fire road. And I have to say that after jogging six miles this morning and hiking a couple thousand feet to this peak, I feel myself settling down a little bit... god knows I have my own problems, and maybe my ranting is just misplaced psychological edginess. Cows or no cows, it was such a beautiful day. I met a hiker at the peak and we had an atypically genuine exchange for the busy urban world of the Bay Area. We talked about what a nice day it was, shaking our heads at our good fortune as the warm breeze blew and the view unrolled all around us. Isn't it nice to forget everything and just lose yourself in the moment sometimes, the beautiful second that's happening right now? Peace on earth and good will to all you nature loving freaks out there.