I entered 
the park on foot shortly before 9a. There were a half dozen
cars parked outside, none inside. The $6 fee ($8 on weekends) does a lot to
discourage folks from driving into the park. I took the
Wildcat Canyon Trail to start, knowing that almost all the trails
lead to the Toyon Ridge. There was a great deal of fresh 
poison oak
along 
the trails that follow in the wetter canyons and creeks, so
much so that one had to keep a wary eye at all times to keep from accidently
brushing against it. There were 
shooting stars and other
flowers found along the way - 
Spring had definitely arrived.
The trail meandered along the west side of the canyon before coming to a
junction. I followed a random path that eventually took me to
a 4-way junction higher up, and then onto the 
Toyon Ridge
as expected.
From the ridge, views open to 
the north to 
Salinas and
Monterey. Eagle Peak can
be seen to the south, a grassy knoll another mile up the ridgeline. I reached
the top of Eagle Peak in about an hour, just before 10a. One can get a
view 
southeast to Mt. Toro, east and 
northeast to the
Salinas Valley, 
north and 
northwest to Monterey Bay and the
surrounding communities. Eagle Peak has
almost no prominence, dominated by a somewhat higher, unnamed summit to the
south (though without the fine views due to high brush).
From Eagle Peak I followed the Coyote
Springs Trail around the east side of the higher, unnamed summit where one first
gets a view to Ollason Peak behind it. 
The trails south of Eagle Peak
appear to be mostly used by mountain bikers. An old road leading to a saddle
east of Ollason has suffered 
serious erosion, making it somewhat
tricky to negotiate. From the saddle it's an easy five minute walk to
the summit of Ollason.
The view from the top is even better than Eagle Peak as there are no
obstructions in any direction of the rounded, grassy summit. The even higher
Simas Peak can be seen to 
the east, the Santa Lucia Range to the
south and 
west, the Monterey Bay area to 
the north.
Heading west off the summit, one comes across a portion of the county park
where 
cattle are grazed (the entire
summit of Ollason is kept nicely mowed by the bovine herds). These particular
cattle are so used to humans that they didn't bother to move more than a few
feet 
from the trail as I passed by. 
One of the nursing
calves hardly refused
to interrupt its feeding to check me out. I jogged much of the route down the
long, gradual NW Ridge of Ollason, a very scenic ridgeline. There were abundant
lupines in the grassy meadows, smaller purple flowers gently
carpeting large
swaths, and a relaxing bench found at an overlook site. The trail splinters at
several junctions and without a map it was not possible to figure out where
they all go off to, but I kept a generally north or northeast course to get me
back to the main part of 
the park near the entrance.
I was 
back
to my car by 11a, the loop taking just over 2 hours. While driving
back to San Jose, having enjoyed the outing very much, I considered that it
might also be a fine time for an evening hike as it was just a few days before
the full moon. Back home, I considered where to go that evening. I decided on
Black Mountain in the Diablo Range on the boundary of Santa Clara and Stanislaus
Counties, a ten mile outing.
Black Mtn was the highest named summit in Santa Clara Co. that I had yet to
visit and also the second highest summit in Stanislaus Co. after nearby Mt.
Stakes. I had visited Mt. Stakes eight years earlier when I was chasing county
highpoints, but didn't have Black Mtn on my radar at the time.
After picking up my daughter from school, doing afternoon chores, making dinner
and other family fun, I left San Jose shortly after dropping my daughter off
at volleyball practice at 7p. It took me until 8:40p to drive SR130 up and
over Mt. Hamilton to its backside and the San Antonio Valley. All of the land
in the area is in private hands - large ranches, hunting clubs, and a handful
of small homesteads. Though forecast for partly cloudy, the sky was
clouded over for most of the night. Often the moon would be entirely obscured,
but this didn't prevent sufficient light from filtering down to allow me to
hike without the need for a headlamp. It was cold, around 40F at
the start,
with a light breeze that would increase as the evening wore on.
It took an hour to hike the lower, flat portion of the roads along the Upper
San Antonio Valley to
the boundary between the ranch and adjacent hunting club.
Some water from recent rains had collected in pools along the dirt roads, but
these were easily avoided and for the most part the roads were dry. Several
creek crossings were made difficult not due to high water, but by the sopping,
muddy banks on either side that had been churned up by cattle, making a leap
across one of the creeks a potentially muddy landing. The hiking in the open
valley was quite picturesque with towering oaks, many
aged and broken with time, dotting the landscape.
Shortly after starting on the hunting club property, one starts to climb out
of the side canyon and onto a ridgeline leading to the the eastern crest of the
range where Black Mtn and Mt. Stakes are found. The wind picked up as the
ridge became more exposed and I dug into my pack for more clothing, a balaclava
and gloves. It took just under two hours to reach the summit of Black Mtn, about
half a mile north of Mt. Stakes. The old ranch road I followed wound around
the mountain, but an old firebreak provided easy access to the last 50 yards to
the summit. 
The lights
of the Central Valley shown brightly to the north and east, but all was
fairly dark in the other directions, the moon now hidden behind clouds. I found
no register or benchmark to mark the summit, just an
old fencepost marking a property boundary.
I paid a return visit to Mt. Stakes on my way back as it's only about 15 minutes
between the two summits. In addition to the 
generic benchmark at the
summit that I had seen before, there was 
a reference mark found
nearby marked "MT. STAKES
USE NO. 4" (whatever that means), dated 1967 and 1943. It was set loosely
among some rocks, no longer secured to its concrete base. The register that we
had found that first time could no longer be located. The winds were picking up
more strongly, driving me from the summit after a few minutes.
The return proved more interesting and a bit disconcerting. Against the weather
forecast, it actually began to rain, albeit just a drizzle, as I descended the
mountain. I was carrying only a fanny pack instead of my usually well-stocked
day pack, and was caught without rain gear, just a lightweight wind jacket.
This proved sufficient to keep my upper body relatively dry, but had it rained
more significantly I would have been much wetter and colder.
Since I usually look for fair
weather on all these night hikes, it was indeed unusual - the first time I can
recall getting rained on at night outside the Sierra. Still, it wasn't too bad
at all and there was still sufficient light diffusing down through the clouds
to see by. My pants and boots would get wet, but mattered little - I had a
change of shoes in the car and the thin pants would dry quickly. I made it
back
to the car around 12:15a, eventually getting back to San Jose, showered and
into bed by 2a.