![]() Working with various land agencies and private entities over the years, trail architects have secured easements and connected disparate stretches to design a multi-use trail system passing through urban areas, reclaimed wetlands, marshes, swamps, and rehabilitated upland meadows. It’s enjoyed daily, no matter the weather, by outdoor lovers and adventurists of all stripes – skaters, hikers, strollers, joggers, dog walkers, power walkers, kite fliers, fishermen, wildlife viewers, en plein air painters, and nature aficionados – room and more for everyone! No matter what you do, the Trail is a ridiculously accessible nature magnet and great get away from the chaos and stress of urban living. Excited yet? Well, maybe not – but choose your own adventure then, for options are unlimited along just one teensy, itty-bitty section of the envisioned 500 mile long San Francisco Bay Trail (67% completed). When the tide's out, and conditions are right, an inconceivable 20,000 individual birds might be spotted in this rich habitat. The outlet of three East Bay creeks converging here creates auspicious foraging grounds. Got it, sir, yes sir! (This place sure has gone to the dogs!)īy now much of the Bay’s inner shoreline is laid bare, a tidal phenomenon exposing primordial mud-caked, provender-rich pasturage for hundreds of birds enjoying nature’s bounty of insects, worms and micro-organisms. Near the main parking area, a ranger hails me (nails me) with a friendly nod and mild warning, thankfully, because it’s a $275 ticket waiting to happen. Everyone’s giving me the evil eye, so I dismount, walking slowly, captivated by spacious views and the joie de vivre of so many unleashed dogs running freely after sticks and tennis balls. Here, I accidentally enter the NO BIKES ALLOWED park through an unsigned hole in a fence. I bike north past the bird sanctuary and outdoor art museum (aka Albany Bulb), continuing on to doggy heaven (aka Point Isabel). #MCLAUGHLIN EASTSHORE STATE SEASHORE FULL#I wait a full five minutes hoping to see the old boy strike, but the Heron remains laser focused on his phantom meal, a fixated and statuesque creature of the wild not a stone’s throw away from roaring six-lane I-80 traffic. A troupe of Gray Pelicans flies overhead in graceful V-formation, much prettier air-borne birds than they appear in their awkward terra firma mien. A motionless White Heron stalks near the freeway in stony silence next to a discarded old tire, hoping for a tasty meal of fish, frog or snake. Pole sitting Cormorants flash wings in garish displays of territorial bragging rights, or maybe they’re just airing things out. Terns circle and dive bomb in the calm bay, surfacing with limp fish clutched in their beaks. ![]() Near busy University Avenue and Frontage Road, glistening mudflats attract hundreds of Gulls, Coots, Killdeers, Avocets, Willets, Whimbrels, Wigeons and Mallards, one and all convivially joining the “feast”-ivities of rich pickings upturned by roiling tidal action. ![]() ![]() Then – an oblivious dog owner arrives and sets her pooch loose, creating panic and havoc as the small sandpipers lift up en masse and skitter away in a flurry of bleeping disapproval. Rhythmically attuned as a single organism, the frisky flock is dancing to and fro to the ebb and flow of gently lapping waves, hungrily stabbing at the receding waters' exposed sand with short stout black bills. Near Emery Point, I pop off my bike at a seaweed strewn, sandy brown beach to watch dozens of Sanderlings devour flies and gnats at shore’s edge. ![]()
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