BRIONES REGIONAL PARK AND RESERVOIR: Paying Respect and Homage to Two Unheralded Gems of Nature in the East Bay Hills


Welcome to a place I call Brionesland -- a wild patch of preserved greenbelt in the East Bay‘s rangy hills comprising 6,117 acres of protected parklands and watershed lands set aside as early as 1906 (Briones Reservoir) and 1957 (Briones Regional Park) for the public good and enjoyment.
Located west of Mt. Diablo, whose dominating contours are admired from many a fine vantage point along Briones Crest and Table Top Trails, Brionesland is a genuine ecological island zone sandwiched on four sides by intense urban encroachment. To the north is the Alhambra Valley, the Carquinez Strait, the Sacramento River Delta, Mt. Vaca, and the Cache Creek Natural Area bluish

It’s difficult to imagine such a remarkable landscape existing smack dab in the middle of rampant development and assorted 21st century urban blight and eyesores -- oil refineries, mega-freeways, sprawling cities, transmission towers, and large cattle and horse ranches. Yet exist it does - as a mere splash of green on the map, but in reality the

But Briones Regional Park, owned and operated by the East Bay Regional Park District, has earned a controversial, even scorned reputation among some, a place “real hikers“ scrupulously avoid. Blame it on cows and mountain bikers. Cows get a bad rap because who wants a cattle grazing operation on public lands? The poor beasts (not to blame) trample sensitive habitat, terrorize passers-by, and disgustingly muck up the land with copious splattering pies dropped all over the trails and meadows for you to have to dodge like landmines. On the other hand, park ecologists advocate cattle grazin

Mountain bikers deserve a bad rap because who wants to hike in an amusement park for outta control macho thrill-seekers? On the other han

Purist / idealist types -- and I’m one of them, but of the weaker variety - would love if Briones Regional Park were true “wilderness” . . . but it ain’t, and so word gets out, what’s so great about it; besides there are outta control m

Brionesland rambles provide superlative views from the highest points in the

I’ve seen more reclusive creatures at Brionesland than anywhere else in the Bay Area. Besides the puma spotting three years ago, I’ve tracked lion imprints alongside deer’s on muddy canyon trails numerous times. I’ve seen bobcats (my second best sighting ever occurred yesterday near Lagoon Trail - see bonus


Also a tree-lover’s delight, with a healthy mantel of forest cloaking the land, home to modest stands of coast redwood, several varieties of pine and oak, bay, madrone, buckeye, elderberry and walnut. Other habitats -- coastal scrub, grassland, chaparral, and riparian -- provide sanctuary for countless species of plants and animals, many threatened and endangered. Good God, don’t let the seasonal cow grazing or -- heaven forbid! - dangerous mountain biker thrill-seekers stop you from experiencing glorious Mother Nature at your doorstep! Get out and explore! A little cow shit ain’t gonna kill you, nor

Brionesland will always be a favorite venue, a nearby escape, for a city-suffocated, pent-up gambolin’ man desperate for a frivolous experience, a hedonistic escapade, a quasi-adventurous exploit or two right in his backyard -- hiking up sweet little Deer Creek canyon in light drizzle; mountain biking the crest trail loop on a brisk bright morning; amateur birding along lush riparian corridors; ‘shroom hunting in the secret places J.B. showed him in magical oak / bay / madrone forests teeming with chanterelles and other fungal delights; or just lazily picnicking by b

One hundred and fifty years ago, the Alhambra Valley was transformed into an important wine and orchard growing area. John Muir, founder of the Sierra Club, eventually settled in Martinez and took up successful farming and agricultural pursuits, having inherited the wealth / land in his 1880 marriage to Louisa Wanda Strentzel (after whom nearby Mt. Wanda is named).
Surely, Brionesland provided this wild, peripatetic man with a much-sought after haven from the madding crowd. We’ll never know, for Muir wrote little if anything on his findings and feelings. Surely, he must have thought his surroundings resembled the Scottish landscape of his youth - green steep cut hillsides, hidden glades and holl


Given how much there is to explore in Brionesland today, imagine how gloriously wild it must have been in Muir’s day, when grizzlies, elk, and bald eagles still reigned, when there were no transmission towers, spewing oil refineries, air traffic or car pollution, mountain bikers or cows - well, maybe there were cows, I don‘t know. (Amigos, check out John Muir National Historic Site for more info: http://www.nps.gov/jomu/)
One of my favorite “best kept secrets” for exotic local hiking is the East Bay Municipal Utilities District (EMBUD) owned and managed reservoir lands. The 725 acre artificial lake (gorgeous and painterly) is tucked away in scenic, rolling, oak-studded hills, and thankfully, is exempt from the detractions of intractable cows and

To think, all these years, I never once checked the place out. Drove by it a hundred times, looked out, admired it dutifully, remarked often that S.F. Chronicle outdoors writer Tom Stienstra described it as “the bluest body of water in the Bay Area”. But that was about the extent of my curiosity. I knew I’d get there someday. But I didn’t know what I had been missing all these years.
Until twenty years later, eager for something new, and with permit finally in hand, we hiked Oursan and Bear Creek Trails on separate occasions. We were instantly blown away by the unspoiled character and peaceful nature of the place, the sky-blue waters, and extravaganza of waterfowl and bird life, the pervasive f

From the Overlook staging area, Oursan Trail winds down to San Pablo Creek and San Pablo reservoir (http://gambolinman.blogspot.com/2005/05/san-pablo-creek-unusual-and.html) Bear Creek Trail takes you in the opposite direction, winding up and down through thick forest with beautiful views for four miles all the way to Briones Regional Park. Down on the lake, it

Boating, swimming, any contact at all with the water, is verboten (except the Cal Rowing Team gets to practice in this paradise), rendering the lake a “mere backdrop”. . .but, oh, what a picture perfect backdrop it is! Out ’n back or long loop hikes take you into a lost world almost amid sweeping blue sky vistas and azure water canvasses against green or golden oak-dappled hills bursting with wildflowers and harboring secret waterfalls in springtime. The water is hypnotic, dazzling, alluring for sure, and who knows, on a particularly hot day, I might immerse stealthily for a quick refreshing dip, but don’t tell a

Briones Reservoir is where we escape to, not so much to hike our butts off, but to simply get in a good walk, be out and about in beautiful Mother Nature, where we can observe our surroundings in unhurried reverie, lose ourselves in thought, seek out our sweet spots at shore's reedy edge, to kick back and relax, take it all in, and melt away harmful stresses from the pressure cooker of everyday life just up and over the other side of the ridge.
BRIONESLAND BONUS: A Rollicking Mountain Bike Ride On Crest Loop for Table Top Views of the Bay Area’s Back ‘o Beyond
This morning - January 12, 2007 - I hit the trail alone at 8:30 a.m. for my first bike ride at Briones Regional Park in two years. The morning is knife-sharp cold; hoarfrost collects

I’d forgotten how tough the climb up to the crest is, or maybe I‘m just gettin‘ old. My lungs burn from the frigid air. Yet it’s invigorating to the core. I soon get a breathing rhythm going and persevere up my chosen Sisyphean path: Bear Creek to Seaborg to Briones Crest to Table Top, past Sindicich Lagoons, and back down gorgeous Abrigo Valley, for about an 8 mile challenging loop -- sections of the ride test your mettle.
At the crest, huffing and puffing, I stop to take in jaw-dropping views of the big Diablo valley. It’s a crystal-clear day, the sun is shining brilliantly, warming things up, but still, I’m wearing my full-fingered gloves. To the northeast, I’m amazed to see snow-capped Sierra ranges, at first believing them to b


At the lagoons, I scare off sitting ducks who fly away fast and furiously; a blue heron is quite on to me and acting very cautious and suspicious; scores of other birds scatter at my presence, as do the young cows. I feel like an intruder. I am an intruder. At the lagoon’s shoreline, a half inch thick mantel of ice has formed! It got down to the low 20s last night, which is amazingly cold for these parts. Colder than I can ever recall. The ephemeral frozen water won’t last long as the day continues to warm up, but this is the first I’ve seen of a naturally produced slab of ice at 1000 ft. or so above sea level.
Preparing to mount my bike after a forty-five minute delay observing and fruitlessly photographing the flurry of avian activity, I happen to turn around just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of the shaggy hind end of a tawny bobcat disappearing into the brush. I dr

Back up on the high trail, I stop to watch kestrels hover in the wind currents above hillside meadows, occasionally swooping to land and snatch up a grasshopper or vole. They’re amazing little hawks, really, and I spend over half an hour in trance-like admiration watching the

The rest of the ride, thankfully, is an easy and leisurely coast on the ridge, affording great 180 views of north and northwest coast ranges, big west Marinscapes, and green rolling hills. Not too muddy yet, and I don’t encounter a single other person until two hours into my ride, and only a handful of well-behaved and photogenic cows, and for the record, not a single other mountain biker.
What a morning! What a place! What a ride! What thrills! Praise be and long live Brionesland!