Sunday, at the Montclair Farmer's Market, after noshing on some fine chicken curry, I remembered the words of a friend, of her enjoyment culled from hiking with her husband upon the trails and byways of the Oakland Hills. And, with my last bite of said curry, the remembrance that just a few blocks away, the was beginning for the Montclair Railroad Trail. And that on this sunny and slightly hazy Sunday, that I could, and should, of it for the first time partake.
It's really more a path than a trail. 1.4 miles total in unlooping length, my starting point was at the very end of Medau Place. So innocuous, its entrance is, I approached and retreated from it 3x thinking my GPS was off. (Tip: walk uphill on Medau, on the left, past the parking lot of McCaulou's. Keep walking. Trust me. Where at first you thought would be nothing, you'll see an asphalt incline that leads up to the trail.)
A li'l history: from 1928, the Shepherd Canyon railroad ran from Sacramento and Chico, ferrying daily commuters to the SF area via their last last in Montclair. But with the rising popularity of the automobile in the '50s, the SN Railway ended its service, leaving only the 'hood of Montclair and the sylvian footprint, that is this railroad trail, as evidence for its existence.
Walking for the first time upon this trail (really, more a path) was, for lack of better phrasing, a *mostly* pastoral treat. Cuz, for solitude and contemplation, it's hardly a perfect walk. To one side, often the car engines surge on a highway far below; and, on the other side from above, one's inspection is filled with the sightings of houses of the well and well-ish off . Electrical towers shadow much of one's journey. And, then, there are the other people who are also hiking. Many with dogs, which, despite the many posted signs, are off leash. And, then, the other people, whose children were, without any chiding signage, on leashes.
Beyond these distractions (or maybe they're an essential ingredient to the recipe of enjoyment here?) --the Montclair RR trail is a lovely, historic, and easily accessible diversion -- one that's right in Oakland. Bask in the mid-afternoon sloped sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; observe in absolute silence that bluejay perched eight feet away; or, make friends with that outgoing Setter who scampers up from his owner to sniff and greet you. It's an opportunity to walk in the footsteps of history, to embrace a sense of community and collectiveness, and to, curiously simultaneously, languish in solitude while thinking about things that you don't understand. read more