being there

Bat bunkhouse

WE WERE TWO adults and two teenagers gripped by a fierce desire to escape the asphalt and kick up some trail dust. My ninth-grade neighbors Pati and Vanessa had never been camping, so a friend and I steered them south for a quick outdoor fix at Pinnacles National Monument, promising some nonurban animal sightings.

Although the stultifying heat of summer is to be avoided, Pinnacles otherwise covers all bases for the discerning day-tripper naturalist. On the border of San Benito and Monterey Counties, the park is within three hours of the Bay Area, but far enough from major roadways that it never feels mobbed. Thi rty-plus miles of trails are nicely configured as concentric and interlocking loops, with a good mix of difficulty levels and distances. The substantial raptor population includes prairie falcons, golden eagles, and red-tailed hawks. And for those who don't mind leaving the daylight behind, trails wind through two sets of caves sheltering 16 species of bats.

On the last two Fridays of October, visitors can tour two of the habitats that make Pinnacles so enticing to the furry, winged mammals, during an evening bat program that coincides nicely with the Halloween season. After watching the bats swoop and dine at Bear Gulch Reservoir, groups will visit the Bear Gulch Caves – residence of the Townsend's big-eared bat, and the park's largest bat colony – and listen to echolocation calls, using a device that converts the bats' high-frequency screeches to a level audible to humans. Because of the pupping and hibernation periods, now is one of only two times of year when the entire cave system is open to the public.

We were too early for the bat programs, but we did get to experience the High Peaks Trail area, probably the most stunning section of the park, at least aboveground. Millions of years ago, the San Andreas Fault split a now-dormant volcano 200 miles away, creating rocks that were in turn carried here by the force of plate tectonics. Over time, fractures and erosion have sculpted towering rock spi res, including some that stand hundreds of feet high. When the sun is low, these namesake breccia pinnacles bask in a husky orange glow that brings to mind landscapes in Utah or Arizona.

It also seemed to be a good time to contemplate the vulnerability of exposed skin to mosquitoes – until a constellation of bats arrived, weaving above our heads like drunken sparrows. They fluttered in the dim gray air, compact and amusingly erratic, conveniently gobbling up bloodthirsty insects.

In the morning, after a quick tutorial about the vile powers of poison oak, we set off for the Balconies Cave by way of Old Pinnacles Trail. With rapidly expiring flashlights, we navigated the talus cave – formed by a jumble of boulders creating a roof over a slim canyon – squeezing and scrambling through the cool darkness. We spotted a handful of sleeping bats hanging from the ceiling and took care not to disturb the tiny pouches of skin and bones. Once outside, the girls hoofed up a sloping wall and disappeared to explore the cave top.

Soon enough it was dinnertime at the campground, and other sectors of the animal population assumed we were catering. First we encountered the resident raccoons as they did reconnaissance in the truck bed. Our best attempts to frighten them away were met with patronizing sneers.

Then, while roasting vegan marshmallows over the cookstove fire, we heard a shrill squeal, and not f rom the giggly adolescents amped up on s'mores. Flashing a headlamp through the moonless black campsite, I hit on the ghostly form of an enormous wild pig. Not a wee barnyard-size thing. We assured the girls this was not standard-issue camp wildlife. Nature neophytes, but horror movie veterans, they remained completely unfazed.

Beth Kohn is a San Francisco freelance writer and photographer. She can be reached at fiercesf@igc.org.

Trip planner

Pinnacles National Monument The park is about two and a half hours south of San Francisco via Hwy. 101; the closest city is Soledad. There are two entrances, but no road connects through the park. To reach the (main) east entrance, take Hwy. 101 to Hwy. 25 (via Hollister) and go west on Hwy. 146. For the west entrance, exit Hwy. 101 in Soledad and go east on Hwy. 146. Entrance fee $5 per car. (831) 389-4485, www.nps.gov/pinn.

Friday-evening bat programs The free two-to-three-hour tours take place Oct. 21 and 28 and include a two-mile walk; bring warm clothes, sturdy shoes, and a flashlight, preferably dimmed with red cellophane. Reservations are required and must be made within two weeks of the program date, with a maximum of 25 people each evening.

Accommodations The privately run Pinnacles Campground (831-389-4462, www.pinncamp.com) is just outside the east entrance and open year-round, with tent sites starting at $17 a night. An outdoor pool is open between April and October, weather permitting. A few miles from the west entrance, the Inn at Pinnacles (831-678-2400, www.innatthepinnacles.com) has B&B doubles starting at $200. There are no accommodations in the park.