San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Books: Chronicle outdoors writer Tom Stienstra shares his favorite summer spots.
If you’ve ever hiked, camped, backpacked, fished or in any way outdoorrecreated in Northern California, it’s almost guaranteed you’ve garnered guidance from Tom Stienstra. In his four decades as The San Francisco Chronicle’s outdoors writer, Steinstra’s newspaper columns, guidebooks and appearances on television and radio have made him the Yoda of the California outdoors. He’s been everywhere and he knows everything.
Stienstra’s latest book, “52 Weekend Adventures in Northern California,” arrived in the fall when the state was still in lockdown. But now is the time to grab this book: After 14 months of sheltering in place, a big percentage of Californians are vaccinated and eager to hit the trail, the river, the lake. And “52 Weekend Adventures” is ready to help, with trips ranging from the closein and easy (a hike on Mount Tamalpais’ Laura Dell Trail) to the more distant and challenging (climbing Mount Shasta).
Raised in Palo Alto, Stienstra studied journalism at San Jose State University. A brutal attack while he was working part time at a gas station pushed him on his eventual career path. “The guy hit me in the head with a hatchet,” Stienstra recalls. “I was almost killed.” Struggling with PTSD, he found solace in the High Sierra. “I ended up climbing Mount Whitney, and I was perched on the summit looking across hundreds of miles of peaks. I realized this is what I was meant to do. Spend my life looking for wild places.”
Not long afterward, he heard The Chronicle was looking for an outdoors writer. Stienstra showed up, unannounced, at the office. “They were nervous about me,” he says. “I looked different — really big beard. I was a bit of a loose cannon. They gave me a 13week tryout. And I passed. I told them I’ll never miss a story, ever, and I will always give you stories that nobody else will have.”
And that is what Stienstra has done. In the decades since, he has spent as many as 200 days a year on the road, has hiked 45,000 miles and put hundreds of thousands of miles on his various trucks — he has 418,000 miles on his current 2000 Ford Diesel. He has celebrated California’s marquee outdoor destinations — Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, Big Sur. And its lesserknown gems: San Pedro Valley County Park in San Mateo County, Mitchell Peak in the High Sierra. But he still has peaks, canyons, views he needs to see. “There is,” he says, “always another mountain to climb.”
For now, Stienstra is eager to offer advice, drawn from his latest book, on where in Northern California to explore this summer. We spoke with him by phone from his home in rural Siskiyou County. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: It’s summer, and you want to see mountains and no crowds. Where do you go?
A: The place people miss out on is Lassen Volcanic National Park. They get about a half a million visitors a year compared to 4½ million at Yosemite. There’s the best mountain climb in California that anybody who’s fit can do — Lassen Peak, a 5mile trip to the top and back. There are all the amazing volcanic formations like Cinder Cone and Chaos Crags, and dozens of backcountry lakes that are reachable with day hikes.
Q: What about the coast? A: You’ll need a campsite reservation, but Prairie Creek Redwood State Park, north of Eureka, is the crown jewel of the Redwood Empire. Right near the visitor center, there’s a little trail called the James Irvine Trail, and within 2 miles you can see five species of 300foot trees. Or you can hike into the prettiest canyon in Northern California, Fern Canyon. And there’s a great herd of Roosevelt elk — spend enough time here and you’ll see them. Q: One great thing about the book is that you introduce people to parts of Northern California they may not know about. One of your favorites is Devil’s Garden in northeastern California. Why do you like it so much? A: This is high desert country in the Modoc National Forest. You can spend hours and hours here and never see another person. Campgrounds are free. There are these little lakes. But the best part is that an estimated 3,000 wild horses run free here. You can bring your camera and try and get a picture of a wild stallion. It is so exciting.
By Tom Stienstra
(Moon Travel; $21.99; 300 pages)
Dana Spiotta has a talent for toothpicking her way into relationships to excavate the muck and the grit, bit by tiny bit. In “Stone Arabia” (2011), she laid bare the complicated bonds between closely connected siblings. In “Innocents and Others” (2016), she explored the intricacies of friendship. Her latest novel, “Wayward,” takes on marriage and motherhood — and shatters our safe, tidy concepts of each.
Set in lovingly depicted Syracuse, N.Y. (Spiotta’s hometown), the book opens as 53yearold Sam is deep in the throes of what many people would call a midlife crisis. Perimenopausal, enraged by the Trump presidency and tired of her “boredhousewife pastime of attending open houses,” she throws her life into a thrilling tailspin by buying a dilapidated 1913 Arts and Crafts bungalow designed by architect Ward Wellington Ward that’s in desperate need of a makeover.
Even as the ink on the deed is still wet, Sam decides to leave her patronizing husband too, who between work and workouts calls her interests “ridiculous” and treats her “the way someone would treat a talkative child or needy dog.” Though abandoning her 16yearold daughter, Ally, in favor of selfreinvention might seem like a Doris Lessing move to most, for Sam it’s necessary to start feeling liberated. (“You know I don’t want to hear about college strategies,” she says.)
But like many instances in life, things don’t go according to plan. Sam’s parttime job at the Clara Loomis House doesn’t pay the bills. She misses her daughter (who happens to be sneaking around with a 29yearold). Her aging mother is acting strange, and her bungalow gets broken into.
Like all of Spiotta’s work, “Wayward” examines questions of identity and transformation with a razorsharp edge. But with bornagain Sam, the approach takes on a desperate, almost manic tone without any of the moral payoff. On one hand, Sam embraces her inner bitch goddess by keying someone’s truck for taking up two spaces and turning her house into a sanctuary for righteous womanhood over 50. But she’s also trashing other women at the Y (calling them “blotchy in stretchedout yoga pants, faded, bloated versions of their lithe, vivid daughters”) and accepting money from her stillsexbuddy husband to pay for groceries and house repairs. What gives?
“Wayward” also peddles heavily in hotbutton issues to move the plot along. For example, Spiotta gives ample weight to the Facebook groups Sam stalks or joins (one is called Hardcore Hags, Harridans, and Harpies and, yes, a member of the group does get “canceled”). Toward the end of the novel, an unarmed Somalian boy gets shot by the police, and Sam is the only witness. That she makes it her mission to get the cop arrested is either an astute commentary on whitelady savior complex or a development tacked on that deserves greater bandwidth.
Overall, “Wayward” stands tall in its representation of these harried times. A woman perpetually on the verge of a breakthrough — or breakdown — even after she’s claimed her freedom. Complicated personal and societal goals. Even more complicated solutions. Whether you sign up to go along for the ride might depend on whether you’re still interested in the conversation.