Black’s Beach

San Diego

Start your road trip in sunny San Diego at Black’s Beach, where world-class waves and unapologetically naked hippies converge. The secret recipe for this epic beach break is a massive submarine canyon a thousand feet deep that funnels swells up to the surface rapidly to produce rippable A-frames.

On bigger days, “canyon sets” are a looming threat that emerge from the depths and can clear whole lineups of unsuspecting surfers. In the winter, the spot can produce walls up to 25 feet tall and provide an elusive barrel for the most dedicated of big wave chargers. Black’s is the optimal proving grounds for testing the durability of your shortboard; your tolerance for big wave hold-downs; and your love of traversing tall, unstable cliffs.

• Parking: Torrey Pines Gliderport and a mile-long hike down the cliffside
• Board to Bring: Daily driver shortboard; step-up or big wave gun when it’s on
• Post-Surf Grub: Anything ending in -berto’s: Adalberto’s, Rigoberto’s, Filiberto’s, Roberto’s…

Trestles

San Onofre

Just 45 minutes up the coast (or an hour and a half in Camp Pendleton gridlock) is Trestles, home to arguably the most consistent waves in California. Named for the train tracks that cross the San Mateo Creek, Trestles is a veritable amusement park for surfers, attracting hundreds daily, including the world’s best—Caitlin Simmers, Jack Robinson, and Kolohe Andino among them.

Regardless of your skill level, there is a wave for you at Trestles, which is split into three main sections: Lowers, the home of the WSL finals, where groms bust airs for their sponsorship tapes; Uppers, equipped with fast rights for regular footers looking to carve; and Middles, offering some breathing room for longboarders wanting some mellow waves. No matter what you ride, Trestles is always serving up the goods—if you can dodge the crowds.

• Parking: Park on Cristianitos Road and walk through the reserve, or park closer at San Onofre State Beach with a state pass
• Board to Bring: Anything that floats—shortboards, fish, logs, a reclaimed door
• Post-Surf Grub: Sanchos Tacos, Surfin’ Chicken Grill, or A’s Burgers near Doheny

The Wedge

Orange County

Travel another 35 miles north and you’ll reach the third destination in our journey, The Wedge. Reinstate your health insurance policy, limber up, and paddle out into the Thunderdome of California surf spots. Born from the construction of the Newport Harbor Jetty in the ’30s, this mutant of a wave can reach up to 25 feet tall, breaking directly onto dry sand. Surfing out here feels irresponsible.

Bodyboarders, skimboarders, and bodysurfers rule the water (and the sky) in this area producing gravity-defying airs and insane wipeouts, but surfers are known to sneak a few amid the chaos. This isn’t the place to take out your favorite board; opt for one of Costco’s finest $100 petrochemical watercrafts instead.

• Parking: Pray to the street parking gods for a spot in the residential areas adjacent to East Balboa Boulevard
• Board to Bring: Soft top, boogie board, your body—things you don’t mind breaking
• Post-Surf Grub: Chronic Tacos, Tacos Cancun, Balboa Lily’s, or Newport Landing Restaurant. Order a margarita to nurse your wipeout-induced migraine

Huntington Beach Pier

Orange County

Just eight miles up Highway 1, you’ll arrive at the epicenter of California surfing: Huntington Beach. Known as “Surf City USA,” this spot holds over 100 years of surfing history. Duke Kahanamoku visited often in the 1920s, helping popularize surfing in the mainland, and the US Open of Surfing got its start here. Huntington has also been an incubator of surfing culture. It was the launching point for icons such as Jack’s Surfboards, Surfline, the Surfers’ Hall of Fame, and The Endless Summer.

A lot has changed over the years, and it hasn’t always been pretty—until the 1980s, hundreds of oil derricks lined the beach like an industrial forest, and nearby Bolsa Chica was nicknamed “Tin Can Beach” for the 300-plus tons of trash that littered the sand. While oil spills haven’t entirely disappeared (one occurred in 2021), the current vibes are a far cry from the area’s industrial days… except when 500,000 people flood the beach for the US Open, turning it into a new iteration of Tin Can Beach. Nevertheless, Huntington is still California’s shrine to surfing and a worthwhile pilgrimage for any disciple.

• Parking: Metered spots near the pier, or shell out more at at a nearby private lot
• Board to Bring: A shortboard for punchy days or a longboard for flatter days
• Post-Surf Grub: Duke’s Huntington Beach, Sandy’s Beach Shack, or any of the hole-in-the-wall joints around Pacific City

Malibu

Los Angeles

If you hate LA traffic, wait til you paddle out at Malibu. Located 92 miles past the thick of LA, this place is surfing royalty. While it requires navigating crowds in and out of the water, it’s definitely worth it. Easily one of California’s best, Malibu’s right-hander is the stuff of legends, a wave first popularized by Gidget in the ’50s. Under the right conditions, this conveyor belt of a wave can send you halfway to Santa Monica.

The point break is a top destination in the professional longboarding circuit due to its famously long, sloping waves that are ideal for noseriding. Plus, it’s your chance to get snaked by celebs like Matthew McConaghuey and Jonah Hill, who frequent the break. Surfing rules can be a bit lax here—on a busy day, expect to meet a couple new “friends” who will share their love of surfing with you on every wave.

• Parking: Street parking is the move, unless you happen to luck into a spot at the paid Surfrider Beach lot
• Board to Bring: Longboard—anything else is borderline sacrilegious.
• Post-Surf Grub: Malibu Farm, Neptune’s Net, or SunLife Organics for a pricey smoothie

Rincon Point

Santa Barbara

Leaving the chaos of Los Angeles behind, head 83 miles up the coast to Rincon Point, a dreamy point break known as the “Queen of the Coast.” Santa Barbara doesn’t often get the acknowledgement or waves it deserves, thanks to those meddling Channel Islands, which block most south swells. But when it’s on, Rincon is magic.

This spot boasts some of the longest waves in the West, giving visitors a blank canvas for deep carves, stylish trimming, and fancy footwork. The lineup is divided into three main sections: Indicator, a mellow intro and “indication” for how the rest of the sections will break; the Cove, the main attraction with the best waves of the bunch; and the Rivermouth, a punchy, hollow section. On the rarest of days, it’s possible to ride a wave from Indicator to the Cove, as long as you’re good at playing human Frogger.

• Parking: Street parking off the 101 near Bates Road
• Board to Bring: Mid-length or longboard—whatever will keep you on the wave the longest
• Post-Surf Grub: Check out nearby Carpinteria for a beer and a bite at The Spot, Rincon Brewery, or Padaro Beach Grill

Steamer Lane

Santa Cruz

Welcome to Northern California, where the water’s colder, the cliffs are steeper, and surfing isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Locals here have a bone to pick with Huntington Beach’s designation as Surf City. This spot is another shrine in the halls of surfing history—it’s where Jack O’Neill fine-tuned modern wetsuit and leash design and the site of the first recorded American surf sesh (three Hawaiian princes paddled out at San Lorenzo River mouth in 1885).

According to a legend dating back to the 1930s, Steamer Lane got its name because surfers once paid local steamships to cruise by in the hopes of producing waves. Despite this ridiculous tale, the Lane is a jackpot for surfers, attracting powerful swells from northwest to south that wrap around Monterey Bay. The nearby cliffs provide protection from the wind and a peanut gallery for onlookers to applaud or heckle you as you paddle out into the lineup. Daredevils are known to drop into waves from the cliffside to mixed success—consult your primary care physician before trying.

• Parking: Parking off the 101 at Bates Road
• Board to Bring: Mid-lengths or longboards, anything to enjoy the ride for as long as possible
• Post-Surf Grub: Steamer Lane Supply right on the cliffs or the nearby Picnic Basket

Mavericks

Half Moon Bay

This next surf destination is for the psychos who like spelunking, ultramarathons, and other forms of masochism. If sharky waters, submerged boulders, and massive waves are your cup of tea, welcome to Mavericks. Located off the point of Half Moon Bay, this is the type of surf spot best enjoyed from the comfort of a telephoto lens, thousands of feet away while the gnarliest big-waves surfers put it all on the line.

Big-wave legend Jeff Clark was in high school when he used to tackle Mavericks in the ’70s—which might send a chill down your spine when you realize that this cold-water leviathan is known to produce waves up to 60 feet, breaking onto a boneyard of jagged rocks, broken boards, and other flotsam. While most of us mere mortals will never attempt to paddle out here, it’s worth a stop to enjoy the spectacle of local legends like Grant “Twiggy” Baker and Nic Lamb attempting the impossible. If you’re visiting in winter, you might catch a glimpse of the Mavericks Big Wave Invitational, attracting surfing’s biggest adrenaline junkies and human ragdolls.

• Parking: Park at the Half Moon Bay Harbor and walk to the view point
• Board to Bring: Unless you’re Laird Hamilton, you’re better off staying on the shore
• Post-Surf Grub: Sam’s Chowder House or Barbara’s Fishtrap for a comforting order of fish and chips

Fort Point

San Francisco

People might think you’re crazy if you tell them you surfed under the Golden Gate Bridge, but Fort Point is proof that you can. Waves at this Civil War fort bordering one of California’s most iconic landmarks might not be the best; however, what they lack in quality, they make up for in pure novelty.

Larger swells out of the west and northwest can awaken this spot. Be warned—locals can get a bit testy when sets finally roll into the bay. Hazards here include submerged rocks, currents that can sweep you out past the Golden Gate Bridge, and occasional parking lot skirmishes. All things considered, it might just be worth it for the photo op if you don’t mind stalking surf forecasts for weeks beforehand.

• Parking: Free parking is available at the Fort Point National Historic Site, but space is limited
• Board to Bring: Anything you don’t mind cracking on a boulder
• Post-Surf Grub: Warm up with a bowl of chowder at Boudin Bakery, or head to the Marina for a burger and beer at The Tipsy Pig

Ocean Beach

San Francisco

If Steamer Lane hasn’t rattled you and Mavericks hasn’t destroyed your will to live, head up the coast to Ocean Beach (no, not that one). OBSF is a place of myths and legends, home to some of California’s heaviest beach break waves. Located remarkably close to the heart of San Francisco, the beach stretches 3.5 miles, offering a wide variety of spots, including Kelly’s Cove, VFW, Noriega and Judah Street, and Sloat Boulevard.

During bigger swells, the strong currents deflate the arms of the strongest swimmers and shuffle the sandbars playing a twisted game of keep away with surfers paddling out. William Finnegan immortalized Ocean Beach in his memoir Barbarian Days, describing eerie, low visibility days and frightening 15-foot sneaker sets. While it’s true that OBSF turns into a gauntlet during California’s winter swells, there are plenty of waves for surfers of all flavors on smaller days.

• Parking: Lots of parking along the Great Highway, but make sure to check for closures due to weather or erosion
• Board to Bring: Step-up board or gun if it’s big. Something that allows you to paddle through rips but still duckdive
• Post-Surf Grub: Tacos from Underdogs Too or a burger at Outerlands (only available on Wednesdays)

The post 10 of the Best CA Surf Spots for Your Next Road Trip appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Channel Islands National Park

As California’s least-visited national park, Channel Islands supplies a near-untouched glimpse of pre-industrial California. Situated across five islands that were historically inhabited by the Chumash people, the park encompasses 346 miles of land accessible by ferry or private boat. 

Popular activities include beachside camping, kayaking through sea caves, and hiking to scenic viewpoints like Inspiration Point on Anacapa Island. The park is home to endemic wildlife like the adorable Santa Rosa Island fox, deer mouse, and several species of birds. The underwater ecosystem is equally fascinating—more than 100 shipwrecks and mesmerizing reefs make it a prime spot for divers.

Tips for Visiting Channel Islands

• Getting There: Ferry from Oxnard or Ventura
• Fees: No entrance fee; ferry tickets start at $70 through Island Packers
• Best Time to Visit: Spring and summer (blue whale–watching takes place April through September)
• Must-Visit Attractions: Inspiration Point, Scorpion Anchorage Harbor, Painted Cave, Anacapa Island Lighthouse

Map of Channel Islands National Park

Death Valley National Park

The hottest place on Earth, Death Valley National Park is a land of extremes, from the lowest point in North America at Badwater Basin to the soaring Panamint mountain range. While much of the park may seem lifeless at first blush, it’s teeming with critters, such as bighorn sheep, jackrabbits, and sidewinder rattlesnakes. 

Stargazing, camping, and off-roading are common activities here, and be sure to check out Zabriskie Point at sunrise for an unforgettable view. The Furnace Creek Visitor Center offers an ideal spot for a photo op next to the iconic Death Valley thermostat and is the last vestige of civilization before you lose cell service in deeper areas of the park. Embrace your inner geek and follow the self-guided Star Wars filming location tour, and don’t miss Artists Palette for a striking view of rolling, pastel-colored hills. 

Tips for Visiting Death Valley

• Getting There: Via CA 190 and SR 374 (east) or CA 190 and SR 178 (west)
• Fees: $30 per vehicle (printable pass available for dirt road access)
• Best Time to Visit: Spring for milder weather and desert blooms
• Must-Visit Attractions: Zabriskie Point, Artists Palette, Badwater Basin, Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes

Map of Death Valley National Park

Joshua Tree National Park

Joshue Tree sits wedged between three unique ecosystems: the Colorado Desert, the San Bernardino Mountains, and the Mojave Desert. Known for its iconic Joshua Trees (which aren’t actually trees, but rather a type of yucca), the national park offers more than 8,000 climbing routes, making it the ultimate destination for SoCal rock-hoppers and climbers. 

Additionally, the park also houses 300 miles of hiking trails and nine campgrounds (make sure to reserve yours in advance). Joshua Tree is a designated dark sky park, meaning you’ll have the opportunity to get awe-inspiring views of the Milky Way with minimal light pollution. While visiting, you might even spot the park’s wildlife, like desert tortoises, roadrunners, and bighorn sheep hiding amongst otherworldly, wind-forged rock formations. 

Tips for Visiting Joshua Tree

• Getting There: West entrance via Highway 62 and Park Boulevard, north entrance via Twentynine Palms, or south entrance near Cottonwood Spring
• Fees: $30 per vehicle
• Best Time to Visit: Spring or fall to avoid extreme heat
• Must-Visit Attractions: Hidden Valley Nature Trail, Skull Rock, Keys View

Map of Joshua Tree National Park

Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Park

Arguably the greatest two-for-one deal around is admission into Kings Canyon and Sequoia national parks. To the south is Sequoia National Park, home to five of the world’s biggest trees. The largest of them all is General Sherman, a giant sequoia with a towering 275-foot height and staggering 36-foot diameter. Other beloved attractions include Mount Whitney, which offers a challenge for mountaineers; Crystal Cave, which features beautiful marble stalagmites; and Moro Rock, where a 350-step ascent finishes with rewarding panoramic views of the park.

North of Sequoia, Kings Canyon (formerly known as General Grant National Park) is full of dramatic landscapes, including waterfalls, deep canyons, and winding underground caverns. Legendary conservationist John Muir once said the park rivals the beauty of Yosemite, and it even has its own granite dome, Tehipite Dome. The park encompasses 108 miles of the famous Pacific Crest Trail and 87 miles of the John Muir Trail, which connects Mount Whitney to Yosemite. If spelunking or stalagmite-gazing are your style, make sure to check out Boyden Cave and Lilburn Cave—the latter is the longest cave system in California. 

Tips for Visiting Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Park

• Getting There: Sequoia’s Ash Mountain entrance via Highway 198 or Kings Canyon’s Big Stump Entrance via Highway 180
• Fees: $35 per vehicle (covers both parks)
• Best Time to Visit: Spring, when waterfalls are in full-force
• Must-Visit Attractions: General Sherman Tree, Moro Rock, Crystal Cave, Tokopah Falls, Boyden Cave

Map of Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Park

Lassen Volcanic National Park

Lassen Volcanic National Park is home to the largest plug-dome volcano in the world, Lassen Peak, which last erupted in 1917. While Lassen is the largest, the park also houses several smaller volcanoes, making it a rare place where travelers can see all four types of volcanoes (shield, cinder cone, plug dome, and stratovolcano) in one area. Even the park’s crystal-blue Lake Almanor, one of the largest in California, was formed by volcanic activity and spans 13 miles.

If you can tolerate the rotten-egg smell, Sulphur Works is the park’s most easily accessible hydrothermal area, featuring steaming fumaroles and bubbling mud pots. In the winter, Lassen turns into a snowy wonderland, receiving some of the most snowfall in the state and offering plenty of opportunities for cross-country skiing and snowshoeing. Check the NPS website for road advisories, and bring a four-by-four vehicle if you have it. 

Tips for Visiting Lassen Volcanic National Park

• Getting There: Via SR 44/90 or SR 36/89
• Fees: $30 per vehicle
• Best Time to Visit: Summer for stargazing programs
• Must-Visit Attractions: Lassen Peak, Bumpass Hell, Kings Creek Falls, Sulphur Works

Map of Lassen Volcanic National Park

Redwood National Park

Located near the California-Oregon border, Redwood National Park is home to the planet’s tallest trees in its aptly named Tall Tree Grove. Near this grove lies the 380-foot Hyperion, the most statuesque of them all (its exact location remains a secret for conservation purposes). Though its lack of official entrances and admission fees make it easy to overlook, the park is a frequent filming location for Hollywood, with appearances in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi and the second Jurassic Park film. 

Other popular attractions in the park include Fern Canyon, a photographer’s paradise; Lady Bird Johnson Grove, which offers a scenic hike through the meadows; Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, which contains 45 percent of California’s remaining protected old-growth redwoods; and Gold Bluffs Beach, a site for serene coastal camping.   

Tips for Visiting Redwood National Park

• Getting There: Via US 199 and US 101
• Fees: Free
• Best Time to Visit: Spring for fewer crowds and milder temperatures
• Must-Visit Attractions: Fern Canyon, Lady Bird Johnson Grove, Prairie Creek Redwoods, Gold Bluffs Beach

Map of Redwood National Park

Pinnacles National Park

Pinnacles National Park may be California’s smallest national park, but its striking volcanic formations make it a must-see. Renowned for uncanny rock pillars formed over 23 million years ago, it provides over 200 rock-climbing routes. 

Keep an eye out for California condors and endangered Townsend’s big-eared bats. This species of bat can be found in Bear Gulch Cave, a giant boulder cavern that closes to the public during pupping season in May through July. Experienced hikers can also take on the challenging, 6.8-mile High Peaks Trail or 5.6-mile Condor Gulch Trail for epic views of the volcanic spires. 

Tips for Visiting Pinnacles

• Getting There: East and west entrances (via Highway 146 and Highway 25)
• Fees: $30 per vehicle
• Best Time to Visit: Winter to avoid summer heat
• Must-Visit Attractions: Bear Gulch Cave, Condor Gulch Trail, High Peaks Trail

Map of Pinnacles National Park

Yosemite National Park

The crown jewel of California, Yosemite National Park, was described by John Muir as the grandest “temple of nature” he ever visited. Originally, the valley was called Ahwahnee—meaning “large mouth”—by the region’s Indigenous people, a nod to the shape of the valley and the jagged “teeth” that surround its perimeter. Known for its granite cliffs, including the iconic El Capitan and Half Dome, the park also features roaring waterfalls, lush meadows, and towering sequoias. 

Yosemite Valley is rich in wildlife—keep your eyes peeled for deer, black bears, and even bobcats. Adventure-seekers can hike 5,000 feet to the top of Half Dome (with a permit), climb giant boulders at Camp 4, or scale Vernal Falls. Meanwhile, more cautious travelers can admire more accessible views from Glacier Point and Mirror Lake. Remember to bring your camera to capture the beauty of Yosemite Falls, one of the tallest waterfalls in North America.

Tips for Visiting Yosemite

• Getting There: Via Highway 120, Highway 140, and Highway 41
• Fees: $35 per vehicle
• Best Time to Visit: Late spring for full waterfalls
• Must-Visit Attractions: Glacier Point, Half Dome, Yosemite Falls, Vernal Falls, Ansel Adams Gallery

Map of Yosemite National Park

The post A Guide to Visiting California’s 9 National Parks appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

It was 1967. While her dusty tire was attended to, Becket wandered off to a dilapidated recreation hall nearby. Inside, she saw a stage caving in, walls covered in mud, and floors warped from flood damage, but as she peeked through the cracked door, the structure whispered to her. We could make magic together.

When the allure of California called, Becket—a lifelong New Yorker who was then in her 40s—answered with a singular passion few have matched. An artist to the core, trained to dance, paint, and play piano, Becket cast aside her Broadway life and moved to Death Valley Junction (population: a handful), setting up shop in the squalor. The place had potential, after all, even if only she could see it. This project would be her opus.

Renting the theater for $45 a month, Becket paid for repairs and got to work painting an ornate mural depicting a permanent audience on the walls, with cherubs rejoicing on the ceiling. She changed the building’s name to the Amargosa Opera House and, in 1968, began performing original dances and acts for a few people at a time—or sometimes none at all. It wasn’t about fame, it was about freedom.

But fame came nonetheless. National Geographic wrote about her, as did Life. People were curious to see the ballerina in the desert. For more than four decades, Becket performed on her fixed-up stage, delighting and inspiring countless theater lovers willing to make the trek to nowhere.

Along the way, Becket became owner of the entire town, which she turned over to a nonprofit organization that now oversees Death Valley Junction, including the opera house and an adjoining hotel.

Becket would have turned 100 this year. Though she died in 2017, her legacy continues. Business operations took a hit during Covid, but the opera house still offers daily tours and hosts sporadic shows on that famous stage.

“Even if you’re not an artist, you have to appreciate what she was about,” Amargosa Board of Directors President Fred Conboy says. “She was a courageous and audacious woman. There’s nobody like Marta.”

The post The Odd Little Opera House in the Middle of Nowhere appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

A 90-minute ferry from Dana Point, Avalon is a common destination for group trips and family vacations. Viral videos tout how the hotels and mansions built into the hills overlooking a turquoise bay resemble beloved Italian vacation destinations. But its golf cart–filled streets, souvenir shops, and beachfront bars belie the rugged, remote wildness of the rest of Catalina and the other seven Channel Islands.

While Catalina is the best-known, it was just the first stop of my five-day trip through the archipelago on a cruise with Lindblad Expeditions. Five of the eight Channel Islands form the Channel Islands National Park, California’s least-visited national park. It sees about 330,000 people a year, less than a tenth of the number who enter Yosemite in the same time frame. There’s good reason for that: The distance from the mainland—20 miles from Santa Barbara—is misleading.

To get to any of the individual islands within the park, you have to take a ferry from Ventura or Oxnard, which runs to some isles as often as daily during high season, but others as infrequently as four times a month. Not all have a fresh water source, and the limited campground spaces require significant planning to snag a reservation, get the right boat on the right days, and lug in all your own supplies. “Be prepared with waterproof gear and possibly to get wet. Strong winds and rough seas are possible,” the park’s website warns.

The emptiness and remoteness of these destinations just make the windswept hills more impressive, more worth the extra effort, leaving visitors alone with the dancing sea lions, unafraid foxes, and seemingly infinite horizons. It is hard to get to the islands, but the reward comes in the form of a postcard from the past, a view of a California untrod and undeveloped.

Going to the islands by cruise vanquishes the logistics challenge: I boarded the National Geographic Quest on a sunny morning in Los Angeles Harbor, and each day I awoke at a new island, then transferred to another while enjoying a leisurely lunch. The food represented the region around us: wild Pacific salmon chowder, local organic greens, seared ling cod, California Anjou pear bread pudding.

Naturalists led hikes to Torrey pine forests and pointed out the juvenile pelicans playing on grassy hills. Upon our return to the ship, staff greeted us with mugs of hot chocolate and, if desired, splashes of Baileys or Kahlua.

But no level of luxury could keep the rough seas from rocking our boat. As I entered the dining room for lunch the first day, table settings slid back and forth. A server carrying a tray with 20-some glasses of lemonade lithely jogged a few steps in each direction against the sway to keep the drinks steady.

The ship felt, at times, a bit like a summer camp. Having worked at camps throughout high school and college, I laughed as I saw the staff managing excited septuagenarian guests with the same tricks that I had so often used to corral rowdy teenagers. Instead of putting on silly skits to keep us occupied until the dining room doors opened, the onboard photographer offered tips on taking wildlife photos with our phones.

I put that advice into use on Santa Rosa Island while looking for the endemic, eponymous island fox. The same winds that made the boat journey so tumultuous shaped the landscape of the island: Wizened eucalyptus trees bent until they grew almost parallel to the ground; the tall grass lay nearly flattened.

Santa Rosa is the most habitable of the park islands, and it was, in fact, tenanted well into the 1980s by a cattle ranch. It was through the slats of an old ranch fence that I first spotted the pointy ears of the island fox, the only carnivore unique to California. About the size of a large housecat, it has mostly gray-brown fur with highlights of rust brown.

When DDT decimated the bald eagle population in the area, the golden eagles, which preyed on the foxes, moved in. The foxes did not know to be scared of these new eagles, and by 2000, only 15 Santa Rosa Island foxes remained. Thankfully, restoration efforts have worked, and within 20 years, the population was up to more than 2,600.

The islands never connected to the mainland, so plants and animals on the islands evolved into species distinct from those elsewhere. The current theory is that the foxes came over with the Chumash people, who reached the islands by rowing across the ferocious waters in plank canoes.

The Channel Islands were continuously inhabited by the Tongva and Chumash people for more than 10,000 years, and the Arlington Springs Man, found on Santa Rosa, is among the earliest human remains in North America. The cruise’s evening talk one night was about Juana Maria, the last Native resident of San Nicolas Island, who survived alone on the rugged island for nearly 20 years, despite disease-toting Europeans depleting food sources and the same gale-force winds we experienced.

The islands are not untouched or undamaged by humans, but they demonstrate the power of nature to persevere and bring joy. The still-churning seas prevented us from landing on the rocky rise of Anacapa Island, so we explored by Zodiac boat, floating past harbor seals playing and watching crowds of California sea lions as they swam with a fin above the surface of the water. They are thermoregulating, the naturalist explained. But, as the sun burnt a hole through the low misty clouds, an arc of colors reached down through the sky, and I refuse to believe those sea lions weren’t doing a little dance, their jaunty fins in the air to celebrate.

The post The Allure of California’s Least-Visited National Park appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

It’s the first time in a few months the women’s schedules have aligned. So they go.

By the time Orr rolls up in the palm-tree lined parking lot, across from dorms where she went to college over 40 years ago, the rest of the women are already there, including Vanessa Kirker, who grew up in North San Diego County. She went to Moonlight Beach every summer but never touched a surfboard until she was her 60s.

Marianne McPherson, 68, is there, too, with her red matte lipstick and a torn rotator cuff. Her doctor told her not to surf, and if she’s honest with herself, she’s dreading this. Nevertheless, she stands by her car (emblazoned with a ‘Bichhin’ license plate) on an artificial grass changing mat Orr gifted her.

Orr, meanwhile, is “vibrating stress.” A 63-year-old third grade teacher—her classroom door has the kid’s names written on bright surfboard cut-outs—her week consisted of incessant rain that kept her students stuck inside. She still has a pile of essays to grade. She shouldn’t be here. But the chit-chat is a distraction, and she welcomes it.

“I have your tennis racket.” 

“Do I need my hat?”

“The booties stick, so they don’t necessarily land where I want them to land.”

Gauzy fog lingers over the ocean beyond the fence, beckoning. The women unzip long, shiny bags and lay their boards down on the wet cement. They pull sweatshirts over their heads and begin the transformation. Ann Wilbanks, who has dirty blonde hair “proudly going silver,” asks if the wetsuit with neon blue calves Orr takes out is new. 

She nodes and jokes. “It’s baggy on me. I was like, ‘Have I shrunk?’” 

The women slip salt-soaked wetsuits onto bodies that have skied mountains, cycled hundreds of miles, raced sailboats, swum in triathlons, birthed babies, and cradled grandbabies, pulling and tugging until the spongy neoprene sticks like a second skin.

Go to any coastline, and you’ll find that women have continued to reclaim their place in the surfing lineup. Look closer, and you’ll see an abundance of laugh lines on more and more faces of women lured by the beauty and thrill of the ocean.

It’s hard to say how many older women surfers there are in California. Nearly a third of the 60 members of the San Diego chapter of The Wahine Kai Women’s Surf Club are 50-plus—a number that tracks with their three other West Coast chapters. The San Diego Surf Ladies Community, a former nonprofit that’s now a Facebook group, also has its fair share. Co-organizer Alexia Bregman, 51, says there’s a circularity that comes with surfing older. 

“There’s a wildness to the ocean that we don’t have in our lives anymore. The wind is in your face and the water is spraying you and the sense of play from being a child comes back,” she says. “It invigorates and reawakens something in your cellular being.”

Despite growing up in the ’60s in the heyday of Gidget, the movie-turned-television-series about a sassy teen girl surfer, surfing came much later for the Santa Barbara women. Careers and children took precedence, with some watching instructors push their kids into the waves instead. 

After her children grew up and she had more free time, Orr, for one, finally decided it was her turn. She discovered Salt Water Divas, a Santa Barbara group created by then-46-year-old Toyo Yamane-Peluso in 2012 with the goal of getting more local women into surfing. To date, there are more than 600 members. Doug Yartz, owner of the shop Surf Country, teaches most of the lessons.

Orr took her first lesson on Mother’s Day eight years ago. She remembers second-guessing her decision shortly after signing up. “[I worried,] What will people think of this older woman going out and wanting to surf? Then I saw this older man with white hair, and he got a surfboard and walked down to the beach,” she says. “I thought, Well, nobody thinks twice about an older man.”

The second lesson went poorly, and she almost didn’t continue. A “Never Give Up” sticker she saw on a car afterward led her to the friends she regularly surfs with now: Nancy Arkin, a retiree from the US Forest Service whose daughter is a global surf photographer; McPherson, a mid-level manager at an aerospace company who always wanted to surf but grew up near Oregon’s frigid waters; and Mary Johnson, a retired physical therapist who is dedicated to keeping active. 

They were a formidable foursome for a few years. The group expanded when two lawyers who changed careers joined later: Kirker, a therapist who often saw surfers while open water swimming and thought, I could do that; and Wilbanks, an art and antique dealer from Connecticut who spends have the year living near her grown kids, including a daughter who encouraged her to surf.

“There’s nothing I’ve ever done athletically that gives you that feeling of power and speed [like surfing],” Wilbanks, 65, says. “It’s like dancing on water.”

The women all took lessons through Salt Water Divas and gravitated toward each other because of their similar ages. They found they also shared athletic backgrounds, a level of comfort in the water, and another trait, perhaps the most important: stubbornness.

“We were taught to accept the world as it sees us,” Kirker, 66, says. “Learning to surf in your 50s and 60s is not accepting the world as it sees you but accepting you for yourself.” 

The parking lot this morning is nearly empty. Campus Point is known for being beginner-friendly, often crowded with college kids, but every now and then the women have had to contend with jerks—teenage boys, mostly, who try to take every wave. Often, they’ll move to another spot or let the boys know it’s time for them to share, with letting a little of their annoyance come through in their voices.

It’s not always the boys, though. Once, at C Street, a more aggressive and advanced surf spot in Ventura, a woman yelled at Kirker for accidentally dropping in on her. Kirker apologized, but the woman still berated her, shouting, “What are you doing? You don’t belong here.”

Kirker said nothing, got out of the water, and cried. As a family law litigator for 30 years in a profession dominated by men, she’d had enough of feeling like she didn’t belong. She didn’t want to surf angry, and her board sat in her garage for four years until the pandemic started—around the time she shifted careers, which she attributes to surfing. She was tired of fighting with people. 

Today, the wet weather holds the promise of fewer people. The women wax their boards, slip on booties speckled with grains of sand, and, one by one, head to the beach path. Their wetsuits squeak as they walk past the humble Marine Science Institute and over a driftwood-laden rocky shore. Johnson, the oldest of the crew at 71, has wasted no time snapping on a surf cap over her short, white hair and is the first one in the water.

Arkin brings up the rear, holding a longboard with a hook she’s attached so she can grip it better. Her forearm has a fish tattoo with a Buddhist design for freedom. She’s headed towards Poles, a left break named after three poles that used to mark an underground water intake valve. A bonus, they joke later, is that it’s out of range of the surf camera that continuously streams on a giant TV in Yartz’s shop. 

Arkin paddles out, the whoops and hollers from her friends already mixing with the screeching of the seagulls.

Women have been surfing for a long time—as far back as the 17th century in Hawaii and other Polynesian islands (the daring Princess Kelea of Maui was legendary)—but you wouldn’t know it if you looked at any surf magazines before the ’70s, when women got their own professional circuit. Even then, it took two decades for lifestyle brands to embrace female surfers—usually ones that were blonde and conventionally attractive—in their marketing campaigns.

Representation in the sport has long skewed young, white, and male, but that’s changing. Women surfers who identify as queer, BIPOC, and curvy have led the way in advocating for a more inclusive surf culture. 

Older women surfers are a smaller subgroup, though no less loud. When they’re not chasing waves, they’re in Facebook groups and Reddit threads, piping up whenever someone asks, “Am I too old to surf?”

The Santa Barbara women might still be outliers, but they say it’s becoming more and more common to see others who look like them—although it’s not something they fixate on. “I forget about the age thing when I’m in the water,” Johnson says, adding that she does get a kick out of surprising people.

Letting go and living in the moment is one of the draws of surfing. But it’s also a practical strategy, as timing is everything. No wave is ever the same. Then there’s the added variable of age, which comes with decreased flexibility or slower reactions that can make it challenging to pop up, ride a wave for a while, and try out fun tricks. 

“We don’t have a pop up. We have a lumber up,” McPherson likes to joke. 

The women have all experienced their share of injuries—broken toes and fingers, head gashes, face cuts and bruises—but it’s not enough to stop them.

Though gravitate toward cruisy waves, aware of their bodies’ limits, they are still addicted to the excitement of getting better and better each year. The friend might never go pro, but they have certain advantages that age brings: acceptance, patience, and unapologetic enjoyment of something they can claim as theirs after a lifetime of caring for others.

“We’re like these little lights out there communing in the surf. We all respect and honor each other’s individual experience. And we’re not in relation to anyone. We’re not someone’s mother, someone’s wife, someone’s daughter,” Kirker says. “It’s really freeing.” 

The waves are better than they expect this morning. The water is glassy, meaning there’s little wind, the smooth sheen ideal for surfing.

The women are the only ones in the water except for two surfers who are far enough away to leave them alone. Johnson paddles to catch a wave. Kirker, the crew’s most vocal cheerleader, yells: “Go left, go left!” Johnson stands up, compact and still as a statue, and rides the wave nearly all the way to the shore. Kirker hollersl “Woooohoooo!”

A big part of the joy of surfing is being with each other. Some of it is a matter of safety, knowing that if they wipe out or have the wind knocked out of them someone will be there to help. But it’s the camaraderie that keeps them going out together week after week; everyone else knows to make plans around their surf schedule.

“There’ll be days when I don’t catch anything,” McPherson says. “But the enjoyment of being together and celebrating your own successes with an audience of people who love you, and celebrating their successes—it’s double the adrenaline.”

Nearly all are partnered, with husbands or boyfriends, but most of their men don’t share the stoke. Surfing has become a defining feature of their identities, met with a combination of raised eyebrows and subtle boasts. McPherson’s cousin will often introduce her to others and say, “This is Marianne. She surfs every day.” (She doesn’t.) 

Now McPherson straddles the back of her board, lipstick still intact. Kirker is nearby and waits with the others for a good swell. Orr also sits close, her brown-blonde bob she has yet to dye now dark from the saltwater. The rocking of the ocean relaxes her shoulders.

“I just feel like the weight’s off,” she says. 

“It’s because I’m here,” Kirker says. Orr laughs.

In an instant, the calm is broken. Orr spots a potential wave. She lies down on her board, turning its nose around toward shore. Everyone cheers. “Go, go, go!”

Careful not to strain knees that need replacing, she pops up for a few seconds before tumbling backwards into the water. “I blew it,” she says when she’s straddling the board again. “That could’ve been a nice, long wave.”

They all flail at some point, limbs flying everywhere, boards bouncing along the whitewash.  “Come on, bitches!” Kirker says one time to the waves, furiously paddling, only to have them fizzle out.

It takes a lot for everything to be in sync, and learning how to cope with failure is one of surfing’s greatest lessons. There’s joy in that, too. 

“You tend to become competent in the things you do at a certain age,” Arkin says. “But what’s been really fun for me is being incompetent at something new.”

Yet Arkin and the other women are far from incompetent, catching numerous waves, a testament to the number of years they’ve taken lessons together not only at Campus Point, but at surf clinics in Costa Rica and Mexico. They’ll also travel around California together—every Memorial Day for the past eight years, they’ve headed down to Beacons in Encinitas. 

Just today, they’ve been out for nearly two hours. Onshore, more people are strolling along the nearby cliffs, while college kids in wetsuits stand at the edge of the water, about to paddle out. 

“I’m getting cold,” Arkin says, metal in her finger from a surf injury stiff. They all agree to stop soon. 

As they wait for the last few waves, Kirker hums The Monkees theme song. “There’s just something about the ocean that makes me want to sing,” she adds.

The women carry the boards back to their cars. The parking lot is busier, and a 20-something-year-old wearing a UCSB sweatshirt walks by with an older couple, presumably his parents. One of them sees the friends pulling terry cloth surf ponchos over their heads and smiles. They don’t notice.

There’s talk of going to Starbucks afterwards. Over coffee and chai, they will laugh at obnoxious men on dating sites, reminisce about raising athletic children, and share their personal surfing stats from the Dawn Patrol apps they all have on their Apple watches. (Johnson had 11 waves, with one at 20 mph, nearly twice the average speed.) And they’ll make plans to go surfing again tomorrow.

For now, the focus is on getting warm. The clouds have parted. “Here’s your sunshine!” Kirker says. 

“Well, I had more good biffs today,” Arkin says, brushing her wispy hair.

Kirker won’t hear it. “I thought you did fine.”

Today, they’ve emerged both tired and triumphant, the ocean leaving them breathless at times. When they go home, they will be unable to fully articulate the feeling—of being themselves, of being together—but it is one they will continue to chase. Because with so much life still ahead of them, they unabashedly want more. Since she began surfing, “my whole world is better,” Kirker says.

She sits down on the side of her white cargo van with a “Soul of a Mermaid, Mouth of a Sailor” sticker and pours a jug of water over her head. McPherson towels off, her shoulder fine, at least for right now. Wilbanks helps Johnson slither out of her wetsuit.

Orr is the last one to return. In the back of her mind are the essays she still needs to grade, but they don’t seem as urgent. And, like the rest of her friends, she doesn’t ever foresee a time when she’ll stop surfing. “When I started, I thought, I’ll probably be able to do this for, like, five or six years, and then I won’t be able to do it anymore. But look at Mary. She’s my hero,” she says. “And now I think, God, I hope I can keep surfing as long as her.”

The post Paddling Out with California’s Older Women Surfers appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

For every massively challenging mountain summit, there’s a gentle, beginner-friendly path through the woods or near the beach. With so many options, it can be tough to choose your next trek—so we surveyed some experts to find 10 of the best hikes in California. Here are their picks.

Oak Canyon Hiking Trail (3.3 Miles)

Mission Trails Regional Park

Todd Linke, a board member at the Mission Trails Regional Park Foundation and a high school science teacher, says this easy trail is great in any season. “The oak trees provide comforting shade in the summer [and turn a] brilliant yellow in the autumn. [There’s] flowing water in the winter and babbling rapids in the spring,” he explains. “The star of the show … is the amazing waterfall, which can be viewed from above or at the water’s edge.” 

You can start the trail at the Old Mission Dam, which once supplied water to San Diego’s Mission de Alcala. “This trail is as fun as you make it,” Linke says. “There are oak trees to climb, rocks to skip across, and mountain vistas all around.” You can hike out of the canyon and return on the Grasslands Loop Trail, passing the Kumeyaay grinding stones and catching a bird’s-eye view of the dam from the overlook.

White Mountain Peak Hike (15.2 Miles)

Mono County

Those who have set out to tackle Mt. Whitney know how challenging it is to score a permit. If you’re running into red tape, shift your focus: White Mountain Peak—which, at only 253 feet lower, is the third-highest peak in California—can give you the summit experience without any paperwork or permits. Cris Hazzard, who runs the website hikingguy.com, says that, though you can see Whitney from White Mountain, the peak is not actually in the Sierras. 

“Instead, it’s in the unique mountain desert of the White Mountains,” he explains. “The hike is 15 miles with approximately 3,500 feet of climbing. The high altitude will make it feel much more challenging.”

White Mountain Peak’s location makes it extra special—it is also the only mountain taller than 14,000 feet in the lower 48 states that’s not part of the Sierras, Cascades, or Rockies. 

Kumeyaay Lake Hiking Trail (1.3 Miles)

Mission Trails Regional Park

At just over one mile, this flat trail is short and sweet, so it’s a great quick hike to do after work or with kids. “It’ll bring you to a peaceful and beautiful place, with minimal time or effort investment,” Linke says. 

Start in the Bushy Hill parking lot along Father Junipero Serra Trail, just off of Mission Gorge Road in Santee. Follow the entrance road to the Kumeyaay Lake Campground and walk around the lake on a mixed dirt and gravel trail. “Although the trail is short, you’ll have multiple opportunities to stop, relax, and enjoy the beautiful view of the lake, as well as the river and a small marsh area east of the lake,” Linke says. “You’d never know the lake was a former quarry, and it speaks to the incredible efforts to regenerate previously disturbed land.”

Dyar Spring/Juaquapin Hiking Loop (6.2 Miles)

Cuyamaca Rancho State Park

This moderately challenging hike covers about seven miles, combining multiple paths in the park, including Harvey Moore, Dyar Spring, Juaquapin, and the East Side Trail. You may spot animals such as turkey, deer, and coyotes.

Philip Erdelsky, the leader of San Diego Day Hikers, says the trail has been one of his favorites since he first trekked it in 1988. “Very little has changed since then,” he adds. “The loop offers a variety of hiking experiences: chaparral, meadows, woods, stream crossings, and impressive views. Since it is a loop, none of it is hiked more than once. Dyar Spring always has water, even on the driest days.”

Sunset Trail to Laguna Meadow Hike (8.2 Miles)

Laguna Mountain Recreation Area and Cleveland National Forest

This trail gives you access to distant mountain vistas and Laguna Meadow, plus views of two small lakes—Water of the Woods and Big Laguna Lake—and an array of water birds, insects, and spring wildflowers.  

“While Southern California is known for its palm trees and ocean waves, our mountains provide a beautiful backdrop of Jeffrey Pines and Coast Live Oaks, along with fresh air and peaceful tranquility, a perfect combination for a relaxing hike,” Linke says. “In summer, the warmth creates the pleasant aroma of pine, while the shade of the forests give hikers and bikers a respite from the blazing sun. Autumn is a time of brilliance, as the air turns crisp and mountain oaks display their golden beauty along the trail and the Sunrise Highway, one of the most beautiful stretches of roadway in California.”

With winter comes snow, and families can bring sleds to slide down short hills.

North Dome Hike (9.2 Miles)

Yosemite National Park

While Yosemite’s Half Dome is on many adventurers’ bucket list, a section requiring a steep ascent with only cables to aid you can cause anxiety. To experience a similar trek without the risk, try hiking to North Dome. The path is 9.5 miles with about 2,100 feet of climbing, which is much less than Half Dome. 

“You don’t need a permit, and enjoying the granite dome and views is relatively tame,” Hazzard says. “I love this hike because it’s not as crowded as the other Yosemite classics, but it still is a quintessential Yosemite experience.”

Palm Springs Tramway to San Jacinto Peak Hike

Mount San Jacinto State Park (10.1 Miles)

San Jacinto towers 10,000 feet over Palm Springs, offering an alpine environment with the Sonoran Desert as its neighbor. While the hike from Palm Springs to the summit—called Cactus to Clouds—is one of the hardest in the country, you can trim about 8,000 feet off the journey by taking the tram to Long Valley.  (Cactus to Clouds is temporary closed due to heat warnings)

“Once off the tram, you’ll hike through the pines and granite boulders to the dramatic summit,” Hazzard says. “It’s still a workout at around 11 miles and 2,600 feet of climbing. John Muir called the views from the summit the ‘most sublime spectacle to be found anywhere on this earth.’”

Garnet Peak Hike (2.3 Miles)

Laguna Mountain Recreation Area and Cleveland National Forest

This hike marries mountain and desert ecosystems—and provides a peak to summit without an overwhelming amount of distance or vertical climbing. If you start at the Garnet Peak trailhead, you can reach the peak in 2.3 miles with an elevation gain of about 500 feet. Or, if you want to start at the Penny Pines trailhead, you can hike four miles and take on an elevation gain of about 700 feet to get to the top. 

Penny Pines takes you along a section of the famed Pacific Crest Trail and gives you a sweeping panorama of the desert near the beginning of the hike. “The final approach to the peak is the steepest part, but don’t worry, it doesn’t last long, and it is 100 percent worth the final climb,” Linke says. “The view from the rocky outcroppings at the top give you an unobstructed 360-degree vista of mountains to the north, south, and west and of the desert to the east … It’s quite amazing that you can bag a peak just an hour’s drive from San Diego.”

Truckhaven Rocks Hiking Trail (1.6 Miles)

Anza-Borrego Desert State Park

Linke says one of the best hiking trails in Anza-Borrego Desert isn’t really a trail at all. “Oddly, even though it feels completely off the grid, it’s clearly visible from the S-22 Highway, about a 10 minute drive outside of Borrego Springs,” he explains. “It’s called Truckhaven Rocks and it affords the confident hiker with amazing views of Vallecito Mountain to the south, Santa Rosa Mountain to the north, and Borrego Valley between them.”

Despite the path’s lack of official trail designation, you can find the map on the AllTrails app. Your hike will vary from two to three miles and the elevation gain will be determined by your interest in scrambling up rocks or dry waterfalls. This trail also features some short slot canyons, small wind caves, and evidence of rockfalls. 

“You can probably guess by now that there won’t be a parking lot or trail signs, so use the AllTrails map or inquire at the visitor center for the best starting point,” Linke says. “You’ll need to park on the highway, but don’t worry, people do it all the time. While it’s an easy hike, it can be easy to get a bit turned around, so use some sort of navigation device. If all else fails, just keep walking north and eventually you’ll run into the highway.”

Palm Wash Hike (3.5 Miles)

South Fork, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park

This is a desert hike that is accessible from the highway, but you’ll feel like you’ve discovered a distant and beautiful place. To find the entrance, use the AllTrails app or get advice from the visitor center. The trek covers about three miles with an elevation change of around 500 feet. 

“Once your hike begins, you’ll almost immediately be mesmerized by a large, tilting natural bridge,” Linke says. “Other fun and interesting features along the way include steep cliffs, dry waterfalls, evidence of rockfalls, and short but beautiful slot canyons. The hike will terminate at an overhanging dry waterfall, surrounded by tall sandstone formations … The great part about this hike is that as you retrace your steps, you’ll see the canyon from a whole new perspective, and it will seem like a brand-new and exciting hike.”

The post 10 of the Best Hikes in California, According to Experts appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Lassen Volcanic National Park

Sacramento Valley

Lassen Volcanic National Park is one of the state’s least-visited national parks—a surprise, considering how much it resembles one of the nation’s most popular. In Shasta County, the Sierra Nevada, the Cascade Mountains, and the Great Basin collide to form hydrothermal spectacles that make the park California’s personal Yellowstone.

Mercer Caverns

Murphys

Deep in Calaveras County hides an otherworldly network of limestone cave formations. Discovered during the Gold Rush, Mercer Caverns became a popular tourist attraction in the late 19th century. Like generations of visitors before you, you can book a tour to explore winding paths lined with stalactites and stalagmites and descend flowstone staircases.

Hot Creek Geologic Site

Mammoth Lakes

Split by its namesake waterway, Hot Creek Geologic Site lies in a valley within the Inyo National Forest. Underground magma chambers heated up the area over the course of around 1,000 years. Arising from the site’s scalding puddles, geysers have occasionally erupted, mostly during earthquakes.

Fern Canyon

Humboldt County

Humboldt County’s Fern Canyon was a setting in the second Jurassic Park film, The Lost World, for good reason: At 325 million years old, the lush paradise’s ferns inevitably witnessed some real dinos in their day. A Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park secret, the canyon features hanging moss gardens, miniature waterfalls, and chances to splash around. The area’s lollipop-shaped loop trail is a sunrise favorite, with glistening canyon walls and cinematic views.

Fonts Point

Anza-Borrego

Tucked in California’s southeastern corner amongst distinct ridgelines and desert flora lies Fonts Point in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. Nicknamed “California’s Grand Canyon,” it’s one of the best spots to view the Badlands’ rugged ridges, casting dramatic shadows over sandy arroyos.

Red Rock Canyon State Park

Cantil

Right where the southernmost tip of the Sierra Nevada collides with the El Paso Range, Red Rock Canyon State Park unveils its landscape of dramatic rock formations and unique canyons. This secluded valley offers a serene escape with opportunities for hiking, rock climbing, and even spotting ancient petroglyphs.

Monarch Grove Sanctuary

Pacific Grove

Every October, thousands of monarch butterflies migrate to Monterey County’s Pacific Grove, gathering on its pine and eucalyptus trees in bizarre yet beautiful clusters and giving the city the nickname “Butterfly Town, USA.” The Monarch Grove Sanctuary is typically open from October to February, welcoming visitors to observe the flame-colored insects.

Mono Lake

Mono County

Mono Lake’s ultra-salty, alkaline waters rest in the heart of a vast desert in the lake’s namesake county. Peculiar towers emerge from the million-year-old lake’s surface, while a trillion brine shrimp swim below. Birdwatchers, hikers, kayakers, and photographers come for stunning views of mountains and desert, while locals swear a dip in the ancient waters cures almost anything.

Sentinel Dome

Yosemite Valley

Looking for an Ansel Adams view of Yosemite without Capitan-sized crowds? Sentinel Dome, on the south wall of the Yosemite Valley, has remained a criminally underrated spot in one of the nation’s most beloved parks. The two-mile hike is more than worth it for the breathtaking panoramas at the top.

Artists Palette

Death Valley

Never underestimate a modest dusty terrain—behind it might lie rolling hills of rainbow pastels. Part of the Artists Drive Scenic Loop in Death Valley, the Artists Palette is a must-see at sunrise or sunset, when the shifting light and shadows bring out its rich reds, oranges, yellows, blues, pinks, and greens. With no maintained trails but plenty of pullouts for safe parking, it just might inspire you to try your hand at a little landscape painting yourself.

Bodie State Historic Park

Bridgeport

Cue an Ennio Morricone song when you step into Bodie State Historic Park, a former gold mining hot spot turned spaghetti Western–worthy ghost town. Rather than repairing Bodie’s 150-year-old structures or simply letting them crumble into dust, the state park service maintains the buildings in a state of “arrested decay.”

The post 11 of California’s Most Underrated Natural Places appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Californian identity is deeply intertwined with the palm, for good reason—along with the Gold Rush, the palm tree was one of California’s early big wins in branding.

Palm mania started slowly, explains Donald Hodel, an emeritus horticulture advisor for the University of California, Division of Agriculture and Natural Resources. Canary Island date palms, he says, were first brought over by mission-building padres in the late 1700s. They wanted the real-deal fronds when Palm Sunday came around.

From there, palms built up some serious nonsectarian steam. Hodel tells me that, in the late 1800s, developers used palm trees as a siren song for East Coasters, summoning them westward to seek out paradise. They planted Mexican fan palms around citrus orchards and manufactured postcards depicting California as healthy, tropical, and exotic.

After World War II, young veterans exiting the military came west for “their own piece of the pie,” which included a “postage-stamp-sized lot” with, of course, a palm planted out front, Hodel says.

“They are iconic,” he adds. “Rightly or wrongly, [palms] became associated with the upper echelons of the economic ladder.” A frond-crowned tree in your yard meant you’d made it.

Nowadays, those non-native palms are to southern California what pine trees are to Christmas. They’re culturally entrenched—which explains why governments will go to great lengths to protect them. The Encinitas City Council, for example, recently approved a $382,250, five-year plan to defend the Moonlight Beach heritage palm, which involves dousing it quarterly with insecticides, conducting regular inspections, and removing nearby infestations.

At this point, there is only preventative treatment—spraying and crossing one’s fingers—or doing nothing and just rolling the dice. Either way, the palm may die, leaving tree lovers not only bummed out but broke: A tree corpse can cost $6,000 (or more!) to remove.

It’s been tough for palm people in California. Austin Kolander, an arborist with Aguilar Plant Care and first responder on the weevil front, spends his days breaking the news to homeowners that, due to a weevil attack, there’s no hope for their beloved palms. “This woman today was so distraught,” he says. The dying palm had been planted 80 years before by her grandfather. It wasn’t just a tree to her—it was a tether to her familial history.

Luckily, a seasoned pro is on the case. Hoddle (with the help of his entomologist wife, Christina Hoddle) previously cracked the code on the Asian citrus psyllids’ decimation of California’s orange groves.
He’s now working nonstop to find an answer to this weevil problem before the impending desert date palm blitz.

A predator is helpful to get an animal population into check, but the weevil doesn’t have one in California, so Hoddle began a search. In Brazil, he found a tachinid fly, which would have inspired the likes of Hannibal Lecter. It, like the weevil, deposits its eggs atop the palms, but then the freshly hatched maggots wiggle down and entomb themselves within the weevil’s cocoon. “They eat the larva alive,” Hoddle says.

Then, they pupate, using the emptied-out cocoon as a sleeping bag.

The issue is that the fly currently won’t reproduce in a lab setting. Even if Hoddle manages it, there’s still a long process involved in green-lighting the introduction of a new natural enemy.

But there is some hope: He’s also currently testing a method he calls “attract and kill” in a 10-square-mile area that includes Rancho Santa Fe and Fairbanks Ranch. The process involves a hanging contraption that lures the weevils using their own pheromones—it’s like backstabbing them with their own horniness.

He points to a tiny vessel. “This is weevil pheromone aggregate.”

“What does it smell like?” I ask.

“It smells like weevil pheromone aggregate,” he says, laughing.

I bring my nose in close. Hints of musk, rust, and maybe old BandAid. Not great, but if it was a candle called Weevil Nookie, someone out there would pay 40 bucks for it.

Once the weevil lands on the trap, the insect is dosed with a puddle of potent poison. “Instead of hundreds of gallons of insecticide,” Hoddle explains, “we’d just have to put out a couple of ounces over vast areas.”

It’s still not foolproof. If it works—and, based on the numbers of weevils that have fallen for the traps so far, it does look great—and is deployed widely, the remaining Canary Island date palms will likely only have a 70 percent survival rate. But that’s far better than the 70 percent death rate so far.

The public can help the fight, as well, by reporting any symptomatic palms one observes to the University of California, Riverside’s Center for Invasive Species Research.

As we wrap up our tour of destruction, Hoddle spots a massive palm he’s been keeping an eye on for the past six years. It’s dead, with telltale signs of weevil activity. He can’t completely blame the weevils, though, he says.

Ten new insects are established in California each year, three of which become a problem agriculturally or ecologically. “Don’t blast through signs at the airport asking you to declare produce when your bags are full of mangos,” he pleads. The repercussions can be enormous: increased taxes to pay for eradication programs; higher prices for produce; more insecticides in our water, land, and bodies.

“Bugs don’t stay in your own backyard,” he says. “They spread, and then we all end up paying the price for it.”

The post Weevils Are Coming—CA’s Date Industry is at Risk appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

We’re home to the largest and oldest trees in the world and the highest and lowest points in the contiguous US (within 80 miles of each other, no less. Drama). Truly, California is the main character.

Today, California is America with the volume turned up. No other state matches our energy, cultural contributions, or natural beauty. We’re home to a global entertainment industry, a global tech industry, and an economy that nearly every country envies, as well as some of the most stunning landscapes not just in the US, but anywhere.

Sure, it’s loud and it’s crowded here, but California, both as a place and as an idea, is simply unrivaled. It’s why so many people want to come to visit and to live.

So, dip us in gold and call us superfans. We love it here, which is why we’re deliriously happy to bring you our first-ever California issue. With this issue, we wanted to delve into some of what’s happening outside our county lines and offer our readers a feeling of connection to a larger community of people who call California home. There’s so much to explore.

In these pages, we’re looking at our state at large (while staying anchored in SD, of course). First, we’re going surfing with women in Santa Barbara who picked up the sport later in life, then, we’re looking at a California crisis: Birth centers are closing due to regulatory red tape, leaving parents-to-be—especially low-income and minority mothers—with few options for where they can give birth.

We’re also climbing to the tops of California’s iconic palm trees and learning about a scientist’s mission to save them from being eaten alive, talking to the new lead singer of a truly quintessential SoCal band, traveling to a town determined to preserve its stargazing, taking a trip to Channel Islands National Park, and stepping inside an improbable opera house in the desert.

Plus, we’ve got a massive, stunning visual smorgasbord of some of California’s most underrated destinations. Get your bucket list out—you’re going to want to make some additions. And I hope you’re hungry, because we’re also hitting the hottest new restaurant in Hillcrest and shouting out some of our favorite food finds this month around SD. This magazine is packed like a California rush-hour freeway.

We had fun putting this together for you, and we hope you enjoy exploring our golden state with us. We’re lucky to call this place home.

The post Editor’s Note, September 2024: California Love appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

The program started two years ago. This spring, it was potentially going to be cut as the state legislature tried to balance a $45 billion budget deficit for the next fiscal year. But advocates across the state spoke up, lobbied for the program, and it was saved. In the most recent budget agreement, the state renewed the program for another year.

It’s a great way to explore hikes in local state parks without needing to pay the sometimes hefty parking fee or buy a yearlong pass. Here’s a list of all the parks that use the pass. And here are three great local hikes to try using the parking pass program:

Torrey Pines State Natural Reserves

Really nothing beats the beauty of Torrey Pines, plus its wonderful ocean breezes and the chance to end your hike at the beach. And to know that you’re parking there for free makes it all the better. There are a huge variety of loopings trails to explore, some less than a mile long with flat paths that are great for kids. The more challenging hike is to go up the hill, then follow the beach loop trail and walk back on the beach.

Directions: Start at the Torrey Pines parking lot

Distance: 2.7 miles for Beach Loop Trail

Difficulty: Moderate

Dogs: Allowed

Details: Check the website for rain closures. The park is open from 7:15 a.m. to sunset. If you don’t have the state park pass, parking ranges from $10-$25.

San Elijo State Beach

An easy and breezy and beautiful hike that starts and ends at San Elijo State Beach is great for walking with kids or older family members, or taking a sunset stroll after dinner. You can also park and do the quintessential San Diego thing and run along the beach, with the ocean waves crashing on your side. Start at the San Elijo State Beach North Parking Lot and follow the beach down to the San Elijo Lagoon, then turn around and head back.

Directions: Start at the San Elijo State Beach North Parking Lot

Distance: 1.4 miles for out and back

Difficulty: Easy

Dogs: Not allowed

Details: If you don’t have the state park pass, parking costs $10.

Border Field State Park

There are lots of trails to explore along the U.S.-Mexico border if you start your journey at Border Field State Park. The trails take you through the Tijuana Slough National Wildlife Refuge, which is a renowned place for bird watching. It’s also a great place to hike in the summer, where you can get cooler temperatures and still avoid the beach crowds. If you want a challenge, try the Imperial Beach, Amsod Farm and Coast Trail, which takes you across the full width of the park.

Directions: Start at the parking lot on 3098 Dairy Mart Rd and follow the Beach Trail until it connects with the Tijuana River.

Distance: 8.3 miles for out and back

Difficulty: Challenging

Dogs: Allowed

Details: If you don’t have the state park pass, parking costs $7.

The post How to Use California’s Free State Parks Pass for Hiking appeared first on San Diego Magazine.