RV Tour Leg 33 – Pinnacles National Park
- Judy Carmein
- May 20, 2025
- 3 min read
Updated: Dec 1, 2025
May 16 -20, 2025
After Yosemite, we were off to California (again)—a little farther north this time. We had a beautiful, twisty four-hour drive to Pinnacles National Park, made even twistier by the lingering distraction of a small catastrophe: in all the hubbub of dealing with the truck’s dead batteries at Yosemite, we managed to leave our Starlink antenna sitting on the bear box at our campsite.
By the time we realized the mistake, we were too far down the winding mountain roads—with the big fifth wheel in tow—to even dream of going back. David called the Yosemite ranger, and sure enough, it was still right where we left it. I began researching how to get a replacement. David, however, was determined to retrieve it himself. Four hours each way. He said it was his fault and needed a bit of penance. Honestly, on a trip like this, a day apart isn't a terrible idea now and then. I got the easy end of that bargain: a quiet day to blog, clean, and organize. Good thing for David it was a stunning drive. One that he got to enjoy three times.
Geologically, Pinnacles is the fractured, time-worn skeleton of an ancient volcano, split in two by the San Andreas Fault and slowly dragged north. It’s part epic geological saga, part slow-motion road trip. What’s left is a rugged collection of spires, caves, and cliffs formed from rhyolitic breccia—a volcanic rock made of broken chunks fused together by finer ash and lava. Hiking alongside the jagged formations, I kept thinking of our climber friends Linda and Drevis who joined us in Yosemite. These cliffs look like nature’s rock gym—complete with fingerholds.
We had a few days to explore the park. Thanks to its proximity to Los Angeles and the Bay Area, Pinnacles is a madhouse on weekends and a peaceful little haven midweek. We got one of each.
On our first hiking day—Sunday—the park was so crowded they closed the road and ran a shuttle instead. The shuttle line looked daunting, so we decided to hike the three miles from the campground to the Bear Gulch Nature Center. It had more uphill than expected, and from there we added the Bear Gulch Trail, which climbs past sculpted rock walls and through cool, shady stretches to a surprise reward: the Bear Gulch Reservoir, a small, serene lake nestled in the cliffs.
On the way up, we spotted a rattlesnake stretched out beside the trail—completely still. We matched its stillness, snapped a quick photo, and then quietly tiptoed past like respectful tourists.
Bear Gulch trail was the perfect mix of adventure and serenity. By the time we hobbled back to the nature center, we gladly took the shuttle back to the camper.
The park emptied out by Monday, and we tackled the High Peaks Trail—Pinnacles’ crown jewel and one of the more thrilling hikes we’ve done. This loop leads along a narrow ridge, with steps carved straight into the cliffs, metal handrails bolted into stone, and dizzying drop-offs on either side. It was exhilarating and slightly terrifying. We kept wondering: if hiking this trail was nerve-wracking, what kind of courage does it take to build it in the first place? I continue to be amazed by the trails in our National Parks.
Midway through, we spotted our third California condor of the trip perched regally on a high ledge (Grand Canyon and Zion were the first two). We hiked toward him, hoping for a closer view, but by the time we arrived, he had moved on—probably unimpressed by our pace.
Not all wildlife is so elusive. While eating our lunch on the ridge, we were aggressively harassed by a squirrel determined to steal our food. He could not be deterred. And in the end, he won—the little rascal got a piece of David’s sandwich.
Our time at Pinnacles was short but memorable. Next stop: the South Bay Area near San Francisco—where we’ll swap rocks for redwoods and look forward to seeing lots of friends.
Thanks for sharing your adventure. Love you guys!