At the northern edge of Santa Cruz County a finger of Big Basin reaches down to the sea, allowing quick access to the heart of the park.

Across from Waddell Creek Beach, near the San Mateo County line, an access road--the Skyline to the Sea trail-- follows the Creek for five miles, ending just a short hike from the County's most impressive waterfalls. Waterfalls can be destinations, but, like life, the journey itself is the purpose.

There is parking for perhaps a dozen cars just past the Waddell Creek bridge. There is also paid parking at Waddell Beach. If on foot, you are looking at a pleasant day hike, but if you'd like to be back in Davenport in time for lunch, bring your bike.

The road is wide, well-graded, and has only the occasional muddy spots. For the first couple miles, private land abuts the road to the south, so it is possible to encounter a vehicle. The park trucks also use the road for their maintenance activities. Since the road climbs only three to four hundred feet in five miles, it's an easy ride on even the most basic mountain bike.

The first three quarters of a mile takes you along a lush wetland before reaching the visitor's center. Beyond that, there are some farms and homesites on the right.

Within a few minutes you are deep in the Waddell Creek riparian corridor, following one of the central coast's most scenic creeks through groves of redwoods.

Except for one bridge you'll have to walk your bike across, the road is a straight shot deep into the park. On the up hill peddle, you'll be riding slowly enough to look around at an area at once rich, complex, and serene. You may suspect, as I did, that the reason the local native Americans never built a complicated civilization was because life here was far too easy and laid back.

At one point the road rises quickly above the river, the only time you'll need those lower gears. The valley narrows to a canyon, and a few minutes later the road becomes rough just before ending.

There are places to lock a bike, and on weekends there are apt to be many bikes. From there it's a half mile walk to Berry Creek Falls.

The trail drops down the bank and crosses the creek, before going up the creek on the opposite side. As the trail continues east for the next half mile, the forest becomes thicker and more primeval. There are green pools and bubbling cascades in the creek.

Just before the falls the Skyline to the Sea Trail continues on to the right, and the falls is a short walk to the left.

You're unlikely to forget your first glimpse of Berry Creek Falls. Coming suddenly around a clump of trees, you're confronted with a powerful torrent of white water gushing over a high, dark rock wall into a deep green pool. There's an observation deck where you can get an unobstructed view and perhaps eat the lunch you've carted up from the road. There are rocks, logs, and other places to stop and just take it all in. It's a favorite place for hikers to take a break: eat, nap, talk.

Once there, it would be a shame not to continue to the top of the falls and perhaps on for less than a mile to two other cataracts: Silver Falls and then Golden Falls Cascade (an aptly descriptive name). The trail to these falls follows Berry creek and is redolent of damp soil and fungus and awash with light.

The return trip is downhill. This is the fun part of mountain biking, the teeth-chipping, rut-jumping, high speed run down the dirt road. But don't assume the memorable experiences are over.

When the valley widens again, and the road runs along Waddell Creek, pull off the road and walk down to the creek. Find a spot on the bank or some fallen log and drink in the silence and the beauty of the creek, dancing and shimmering in shades of gold and green. As the dappled sunlight slips between the overhanging branches, the currents and eddies look like splatters of diamond dust over the golden river bed. It's a place to daydream and to temporarily forget the march of time.

When the cold, winter rain is pouring down, the hard wind driving it almost horizontally, it's wise to curl up inside with a good book. But, when the gentle spring rains fall, you'd be cheating yourself of a special experience if you didn't head for one of our local redwood forests.

The great canopy of intertwined branches acts as a partial umbrella, and the rain percolates through the foliage to drip softly and rhythmically from the tips of the branches. And when the clouds are low, they seem to catch in the tree tops like gray cotton candy. The total effect can be musical, magical, and sometimes mystical.

Even though there are clouds, wind and rain above you, down on the forest floor the world is amazingly still. There is a silence there that can be found only in a few other places: a deserted beach at dawn, the desert at night, or some barren mountain top. On these rainy, wooded trails, your thoughts can become tangible. You can almost hold your choices and decisions in your hands to feel their relative weight. The serenity around you brings a mental clarity absent during the noise and stress of the week.

The little creeks that flow through every redwood forest are running fast and clear. Every log or rock produces a small rapid or waterfall. You can hear the primal music of water dancing over pebbles. Normally unheard, these sounds, along with the water dropping from branch to branch, fill the space around you, while the soft light, filtering through the trees illuminates the subtle earthen colors and the lichen covered logs.

The rain brings out the life of the forest. Mushrooms of every color and size suddenly erupt from the ground. The birds sing with a special enthusiasm as the dampness forces their food to the surface. Squirrels and lizards seem to scamper everywhere, and it even seems there are more deer grazing om the shadows.

The only creature that is in short supply on rainy days is the human. Gone are the groups of hikers discussing the tribulations of their work week, and gone are the people who hike while doing business on the cell phone. In fact, it's not unusual to find yourself totally alone on the trail. I've found that even in a popular place like Henry Cowell State Park, it's possible to hike in the rain for two hours without seeing another person, and even without getting terribly wet.

The Cowell/Fall Creek area is wonderful for rainy day hikes, as is the more remote trails of Big Basin. The Forest of Nisene Marks also has well wooded trails that you can have to yourself. There are even suitable woods at Grey Whale, Wilder, and even upper UCSC. Mount Madonna Park, on the top of Hwy. 152, has some enchanting hikes. Drive an hour and you can choose Butano or Pescadero parks to the north or any of a dozen trails in the Big Sur area.

If you sample these simple wonders, don't bring a tight schedule that forces you to check your watch. Don't bring your deadlines to be met. Don't bring a walkman, cell phone, or daily planner. You may want to bring your camera to convince yourself that what you remembered seeing was actually real.