Backpacking Henry Coe State Park (Day 1): Escaping the Yosemite Bubble

Most of my big hiking adventures (and that one camping adventure) so far have happened in Yosemite. But for my second backpacking trip, I felt like I should escape my Yosemite bubble, get out of my comfort zone, and experience something new. Enter Henry Coe, the largest state park in Northern California at 87,000 acres. Besides being backpacker-friendly and reportedly easy to get a walk-up permit and camping reservation year-round, one big detail jumped out at me: the official website describes the park as "largely undeveloped."

When you want solitude and raw, untouched nature, "largely undeveloped" sure sounds appealing.

So here's a recap and some photos of my 3 days backpacking in Henry Coe State Park. It was a trip that unexpectedly stuck to an emerging pattern, where every major new adventure gets progressively more difficult! I don't plan it that way...but I'm grateful that's how things shake out.

As always, there were lessons…

The second I stepped up to the counter, the chatty Ranger at the Visitor Center regaled me with some of his backpacking stories. I must have looked experienced because he started recommending some Class 3 hiking trips in the High Sierras and Pacific Northwest. He was on a roll, and I didn’t have the heart to interrupt him with the truth: this was merely my second-ever backpacking trip! So I diligently took some notes for future me.

Then he asked about my route and itinerary. I pulled out a custom map I’d created on AllTrails and he said “oh good, you have an elevation profile on there. Because this park isn’t messing around.” I told him I'd recently hiked Upper Yosemite Falls, and I swear he smirked as if to say "that's nothing!"

(Later, during exhausted fits of frustration, I would wonder if some of these trails here were created based on a dare...)

My 28-mile loop felt ambitious but achievable. I was feeling confident until he asked how many days I’d be out here.

When I said 3, a hint of concern sneaked into his cheerful demeanor.

“You’ve gotta get an early start on day 3 if you want to get from Mississippi Lake all the way back here before sundown.” It was a 12.3 mile trek, but I had no idea how grueling it would end up being. (This would be the second-longest distance I’d hiked in a single day, with the longest being a comparatively gentle and flat 15.2 miles around Yosemite Valley.)

After another quick look at the route I'd planned, he slapped a paper map of the park down on the counter and enthusiastically said "here's what you should do. It'll give you more mileage but there's also more scenery to enjoy." He outlined the proposed route with a yellow highlighter, and circled every water source along the way.

After handing over $10 (Henry Coe SP charges $5/night for backpacking; if you need to park a car it’s an additional $8 per night), filling out my permit, and thanking the ranger for all the helpful intel, I headed back outside feeling full of optimism.

About 2.5 miles in, it was nice to leave Hobbs Road and step onto Middle Ridge Trail, a narrow little foot path that meanders through forested area and does a mostly gentle ascent to the ridgeline.

The fog started burning off, revealing the rolling green hills and mountains of the Diablo range. Manzanita, Northern Red Oaks, and wildflowers accented the beautiful scenery. It took a conscious effort to concentrate on my steps and not just stare endlessly at my surroundings.

After 6.2 miles I had descended down into the valley and realized it was time for my first creek crossing, right where Little Coyote Creek meets Middle Fork Coyote Creek. Excitedly, I unclipped my Crocs from my pack, swapped them with my trail runners, and splashed across the creek.

This was a perfect spot for a lunch break, so I snacked on some tuna + string cheese + sriracha wraps and then filtered a couple liters of water from the creek.

Then I made a rookie mistake: I put my shoes back on.

Not even 1/4 mile later, there was another unavoidable creek crossing, and the water was deep enough that hopping across rocks wasn't an option. So I did the Crocs and trail runners switcheroo again. My Crocs only function as water shoes and camp shoes for me. Hiking in them – especially up and down hills – is not remotely comfortable.

This time, I checked my map after crossing over to make sure I wouldn't need to cross Coyote Creek a third time. I didn't see one, so I put my shoes on yet again.

You already know what happened next! 🤣

The third crossing happened 15 minutes later, and this time I just trudged right through in my trail runners, hoping they'd dry out quickly and not end up contributing to blisters.

Now, with three full liters of water and a 40-pound pack, it was time to climb up Poverty Flat Road, which the ranger had warned me about. He did it once years ago with his wife, and apparently she is still complaining about it! That's because this road is pure hell. To get to my night 1 camp spot, I needed to climb up and over a section of Poverty Flat Road, and the ascent was "only" about 800 feet in 0.8 miles. But it was one of the steepest climbs I've ever seen. It tested my endurance and my patience, and I had to take several breaks on the way up.

This would become a recurring theme...

But today's hike was almost over. I followed Shafer Corral trail until it met up with East Fork Coyote Creek and The Narrows trail, and finally set eyes on my camping spot next to the serene sights and sounds of the flowing creek. After 9 tiring but beautiful miles, I was ready to set up camp, eat a huge dinner, and collapse.

There was no one else here; there was probably no one for miles. (In fact, the ranger had mentioned only 3 or 4 backpackers being in the park today).

The evening was uneventful, and I was delighted to fall asleep to a surprisingly loud chorus of frogs.

Tomorrow, my destination would be Mississippi Lake!