Ken Lavin, a former park ranger at Muir Woods, still vividly remembers the spring weekend he spent backpacking through the Ohlone Regional Wilderness many years ago.
The trail he chose was a remote stretch from Del Valle Regional Park to Rose Peak along a path shaded by oak trees, the hills green and wildflowers blooming around him. At one point, he walked into a little valley where the ground had a strange, colorful hue. Suddenly, he was in the midst of a pulsing orange cloud, panic becoming joy when he realized he was surrounded by ladybugs.
Outing coordinator for Greenbelt Alliance, Ken Lavin, looks on during a visit at Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Refuge in Fremont on Friday, April 5, 2024. Lavin is a former Muir Woods park ranger who has fond memories of backpacking in the Ohlone Wilderness .(Ray Chavez/Bay Area News Group)
Although it is nowhere near the most heralded natural space in the Bay Area, the Ohlone Regional Wilderness trail is, in its own way, unique — a 27-mile jaunt through backcountry wilderness, accessible by public transportation, in the heart of the densely populated East Bay.
Related Articles
Watch Live: 2024 total solar eclipse
Letters: Halt expansion | Airport pivot | Rein in Trump | Exacerbating inflation | Undermining Gaza
Millions hungry as drought grips southern Africa
Northeast digs out from heavy storm, power still out to many
Electric, hybrid cars cutting Bay Area’s carbon footprint, UC Berkeley researchers say
Former park rangers alternately describe the trail as a true retreat from the bustle of the city and “a terrible place to break your leg.” Located in the rugged hills of Southeast Alameda County, it is one of the last wildernesses in a region that, not long ago, was defined by wilderness.
As Lavin, now an outing coordinator for the Greenbelt Alliance, slept beneath the stars, he felt like he was in another world entirely.
“It’s one of those places, I still remember, where you go for hours without seeing another soul,” he said. “There’s no evidence of civilization in an area of 7.5 million people.”
As the Bay Area grapples with a housing crisis, the specter of development in open spaces looms. Although many parks are permanently protected, the previously rural hills of Dublin and Livermore are a prime example of how the look and feel of a region can shift rapidly. Hundreds of thousands of acres across the Bay Area are still at risk of development over the next 30 years.
View of Sunol Regional Wilderness from the Ohlone Regional Wilderness trail in Sunol, Calif., on Friday, April 5, 2024.(Ray Chavez/Bay Area News Group)
For preservation advocates, the Ohlone Regional Wilderness trail is proof that every acre of protected open space is worth the effort, and that you never know what it might someday become.
Unlike the typical process in which open spaces are preserved in one large chunk, the creation of the Ohlone Regional Wilderness trail was a piecemeal effort with no guarantee of success. The trail as it stands today, and the surrounding 9,000 acres of protected land, was the result of two decades of small purchases, primarily of ranchland previously grazed by cattle.
According to East Bay Regional Park archives, the trail made a major leap forward with the purchase of Rowell Ranch in 1976, which was once owned by rodeo legend Harry Rowell. The family sold over 4,000 acres of their property to the park district, which allowed land managers to connect previously protected plots of land across the hills.
Over the next two decades, the park district worked with a number of ranchers to add acre after acre to the park, ultimately creating the trail that exists today–a one-of-a-kind experience that allows an unimpeded hike from Livermore to Fremont.
The land represented a unique opportunity for the park district, said Jerry Kent, the district’s assistant general manager for operations during the time period that the trail was created.
When the Ohlone Wilderness Trail was built between 1984 and 1986, it was intended to be a connector through four parks – Sunol, Mission Peak, Ohlone and Del Valle. The trail opened up a broad stretch of hills to backpacking – and allowed for a true remote experience.
“It’s a 27-mile connection of open space through some of the highest plateau country in southern Alameda County,” Kent said. “The area represents some of the most spectacular high country in the East Bay.”
Steve Diers, now in his 70s, was one of the first rangers assigned to the Ohlone Regional Wilderness in 1977, and he spent his days overseeing trailwork, relocating rattlesnakes, and making homemade wine and beer. For years, he lived in a East Bay Regional Parks cabin at Camp Ohlone, with no electricity and no neighbors within 6 miles. In 1984, a mountain lion killed a deer 50 feet from his residence. Diers recalls frequently seeing foxes, coyotes, and bobcats.
Wildflowers begin to bloom along the Ohlone Regional Wilderness trail in Sunol, Calif., on Friday, April 5, 2024.(Ray Chavez/Bay Area News Group)
“It was like living in the 1930s with the amenities there were,” Diers said.
In the present day, much of that experience persists, although planes fly overhead more frequently.
To many, the East Bay represents some of the most developed land in the entire United States. Millions of people live in the Bay flatlands, surrounded by towering cities, the skylines visible from any viewpoint.
But the region, like the Bay Area as a whole, is also defined by its natural spaces, and its commitment to protecting them. Of the 4.4 million acres in the Bay Area, just 18% of it is classified as urban, and 27% is protected by parks and open space preserves.
To preservation advocates, the benefits of such efforts speak for themselves – studies have shown that green spaces boost mental health; encourage more healthy, active lifestyles; and even boost property values. In a warming climate, creating greater separation between urban areas and wild areas is a boon for wildfire safety. Some research has shown that greenbelts can aid wildfire resilience, and protect homes in extreme fire events.
Annie Burke, the executive director of TOGETHER Bay Area, a regional coalition advocating for climate resilience and equity, believes that natural spaces ultimately define the Bay Area as much as the vibrancy of its cities.
“It’s one of the reasons that the Bay Area is such a special place to live,” Burke said. “We really need to be constantly vigilant about our open spaces.”
A 2017 study conducted by the Greenbelt Alliance identified thousands of acres of open space, much of it ranchland south of San Jose and in Contra Costa County, that are at high risk of development.
It is true that the Bay Area has more open space than any other metropolitan area in the country. But park managers and open spaces advocates like Burke caution that reality is underscored by decades of work, planning, and hard-won battles. The history of Ohlone Regional Wilderness is testament to that. As Burke put it, these lands are never saved — they are always in the process of being saved.
“It’s an ongoing battle, It hasn’t stopped,” Lavin said. “There’s more to be done.”