I’m a California Native and I Believe This Is One of the Most Underrated National Parks in the State

Trailing behind the rest of my hiking group, I trudged over the steep, but smooth, rocks below me. It was the summer after seventh grade, and when my parents told me I had to choose a class at a local community college as a summer activity, I chose seismology. After all, this was the ’90s in the California Bay Area and I was still shaken up by — but curious about — the 6.9-magnitude Loma Prieta Earthquake I had lived through in 1989.

Our class culminated in an overnight camping trip to what was then the Pinnacles National Monument to hike along the San Andreas Fault. But I was distracted.

The other two girls in the class didn’t show up – and here I was, an awkward teen, with a group of boys and two male chaperones. On top of getting caught up in my emotions and wishing I had bowed out of the trip, I hadn’t realized just how intense of a trail we were on. Looking back, we must have been on the High Peaks Trail, with the official National Parks Service (NPS) map even noting a particular “steep and narrow section.” 

One of the chaperones noticed just how far behind I had fallen from the group, and joined me, slowing the pace and encouraging me. Though it’s been decades since this moment, the one thing that’s clear in my memory is that with that support, I finally looked up and realized that I was standing in the midst of one of the most stunning scenes I had been in my entire life.

The park’s namesake Pinnacles are technically the remains of a decomposing Miocene volcano. Nearly 23 million years ago, the area is believed to have been wrought with volcanic activity with flowing lava with pressurized vents that caused explosions. The result of that fervor of heat and pressure are these dramatically round yet somehow also craggy stones, clustered together into spires, creating an otherworldly landscape as far as I could see. 

The reason my class was here was that the park also sits near where the North American and Pacific tectonic plates meet. Experts believe the Pinnacles’ rocks started came from the Neenach Volcano near Lancaster — about 195 miles south of where the park is today — and just kept moving north along the San Andreas Fault. 

History and science aside, all I knew at that young age was that it was like a real-life Disneyland. Something so beautifully moving that it must have been built for my amusement. But realizing this was all the result of Mother Nature, I instantly had a whole new appreciation for the the planet we live on. 

Needless to say, the Pinnacles’ beauty has continued to both befuddle and astonish visitors today. So much so that in 2013, the National Park Service (NPS) gave it a promotion to National Park from National Monument. (The original designation was granted by Theodore Roosevelt in 1908.)

A major part of what makes these rocks so well preserved is that because of their geography, there’s no way to drive through them — the only way is to walk through them, an experience that completely envelopes you in their grandeur, both in size and their long history. 

With 30 miles of trails suited for all levels, there are so many ways for visitors to explore the rocky spires, grasslands, and talus caves — Bear Gulch Cave to the east and Balconies Cave to the west. As a haven for rock climbers, there are hundreds of routes from both ends of the parks. Bird watchers can spot everything from California condors to acorn woodpeckers, and campers can now reserve a site inside the park limits. 

Growing up in California, when I thought of a national park, it was always Yosemite since my family frequented the park to gaze at the 2,424-foot tall Yosemite Falls and 8,800-foot Half Dome. But that night, sleeping under the stars in a sleeping bag feeling all alone (all the boys and men huddled together a safe distance away from me!), I remember feeling like I wasn’t just here to see the natural beauty of our Earth, but that I was actually existing along with it.