Ten Mile Dunes and Inglenook Fen

MacKerricher State Park

Click for map.

I'm not sure if I'm sneaking into the state park or not because the state consistently fails to mention if a park is free to visit. I tend to assume a state park will cost, but many do not and others only have fees in a few areas. (Hum, maybe I should take note of that. If I have not stated a cost to visit a place, it is because it was free when I went. Most places I go are free.) I cannot find any fees associated with any areas of MacKerricher State Park outside of the campground. There is certainly none from the little parking area at the north end which also accesses the Old Smith Ranch which is part of the Mendocino Land Trust. It's a handy spot to access the Ten Mile Dunes and that's what I'm looking for. I haven't been on dunes for a while. There is also Inglenook Fen, the "only remaining coastal fen in California". What's a fen? It's a peat forming wetland where the water wells up from the ground and it takes thousands of years to form. I have to look that up as I'm from coastal California and apparently this is the only one. I suspect I've bumped into a few spots like that inland.

A short accessible trail goes off north from the parking to a view and some interpretive signs.

I just want to go out into the dunes, so look for a trail that does that. Steep and a short beast to climb, there is one. One side is full of reeds and the other is just sand. Grand, duney sand. The top is a high point overlooking the expanse of dunes with limited plants holding them down. It's grand. Also, it will be a trudge to get through.

Not at all accessible trail off west to the dunes.

The dunes are very low as they roll away below.

Barely anything growing on this side of the sand hill, but it is still more than below. Beyond, the waves break in a constant roar.

I avoid the vegetation on the way down and as I cross the sand. While it is limited, it is by no means absent. The little primroses have every right to be there as they cluster in otherwise open sand areas. I think that's what they are. They have buddies, too.

The perfect march of ripples in the sand.

I find myself climbing low slopes, then nearly falling down steep drops. The wind is at my back and it is definitely the prevailing one that pushed these into this shape. I certainly picked the correct direction to wander the dunes. I will return along the beach.

I bet that's the angle of repose. Short and steep and down I shall go. The wind will make it look like this again, probably within the day.

A hill crowned with a bush. Which came first? The hill needs the bush to stabilize, but the bush wouldn't be so high without the hill.

Different sand for different ripples?

There's not many others around. There seems to be someone shooting photographs of a second before they pick it all up and head off again. The dunes are lined with eucalyptus trees. I suspect there is a neighborhood just behind them and this might even be a burn day. Otherwise, I should like to report the rising pillar of smoke somehow. I keep wandering the dunes until coming to a solid line of them crossing my path.

The ripples change again.

The grasses that grow in clumps are the native ones that do not stabilize the dunes as strongly as the invasive plants. Perhaps this is about what these dunes once were.

The line of dunes is a place where more plants grow including trees. I suspect water and I can hear it when I get to the top. I can even see a little of it sometimes as I follow it toward the ocean. Further down, there is a crossing choked with logs and I find myself on a road.

The historic Haul Road that runs through this area is on the slate for removal because of the environmental degradation it causes.

Behind, there is the line of eucalyptus and more trees beyond.

Walking is easier along the road, at least until coming to larger Inglenook Creek. It, too, has a crowding of cut bits of wood, but it is not quite choked by it. I have to follow it a little way to find a spot where the logs are sufficiently clustered to walk across the water without getting my feet wet. I have to wonder why so much of this wood appears to be cut rather than broken.

There goes the water as it cuts across the beach.

The creek travels north a bit before finally getting out onto the beach.

Where the creek turns north, cut logs gather and make a dry foot crossing possible.

I have to leave the road to actually find the fen. Back to difficult walking across sand watching for the plants that call the area home. For a bit, I follow beside a fence, but most of it is little ups and downs in the loose sand. It has a trend toward climbing.

A little bit of the coastline is visible with just a little climbing.

The fence surrounds an old cattle pen.

I can't see any sign of the fen even as I am nearly upon it. There is, maybe, a bit more growth along the far side of the dunes that surround the lake below it, but only a little crest of green is visible from outside the area.

At the top of the dunes that surround Sandhill Lake.

Sandhill Lake stretches out a little bit. Inglenook Fen is the flat area on the far side of the lake.

Fen found, I head for the beach and the roar of the waves that always have about five breaking at once. Tsunami hazard zone, warn the signs somewhere above where I parked. If there were more signs at the parking area, there would also be one warning about rogue waves. Never turn your back on the ocean! How frequent are they? How come we apparently don't have to worry about them a few hundred miles south? Wikipedia talks about an open ocean phenomenon, but there are a few lighthouses that have had very bad moments.

Just little waves today. Even a rogue wave might not be something to worry about today as they are only large in comparison to the rest.

The edge of the Haul Road is visible just at the top of the beach. It looks like it was paved once.

I'm not quite totally alone on the beach.

I've got some native company, too.

Inglenook Creek is a little bit of a challenge to cross, but it spreads out wide. I jump between the sand islands. They hold well and I don't feel any water coming through. The wind and sun are leaving me a little on the chilled side, so I really don't want to be wet.

More ripples in Inglenook Creek as it passes into the ocean.

Wanderings in the sand. The tide is quite far out at the moment.

The bald eagle stayed just long enough for me to swap lenses, then skedaddled as I flipped the switches back on.

So I took advantage of having the bigger telephoto to get a better look at the snowy plover. These are the tiny ones along the coast here and the dunes are closed for their benefit when they nest.

Getting close to Ten Mile River again, I go looking for the bit of the Haul Road that is marked on my map as trail back to the car. It's not there. Well, it's probably just under the sand and there's an old gate near it, but there's not really any sign of the road itself. Once over the dunes a bit and back to the side of the river, there's the road like it was always there.

The low cliffs just north along the coast are now standing out.

Back among the little sand dunes.

See, there was road the whole time. The sign has the rules for this endangered species area.

Poking along the road to have a look at the sign and pausing to really look over Ten Mile River.

The road doesn't go back up to the parking. It wanders under the bridge to the mentioned land trust land and a spot to watch that same bald eagle with another.

Ten Mile River is probably an estuary in this area.

Getting glared at by a bald eagle.

The other must be the one I was watching before as it took off once more.

Just before the bridge, there is a steep trail that connects up to the end of the ADA path. It is much steeper than reasonable for a trail to start, but trimmed and otherwise indicates it is supposed to be in other spots. It's not too steep.




©2020 Valerie Norton
Written 2 Mar 2020