Walking in John Muir's footsteps at Alhambra Hills Open Space

Photo by Aleta George

One perk of being a journalist is to visit new places, and that's what I got to do when Bay Nature magazine asked me to write about Alhambra Hills Open Space, a 297-acre preserve that includes land that John Muir once owned, located about two miles from his historic house in Martinez.

I explored it twice, first with Kathy Briccetti, who has a keen eye for things, and again with Dave, who explored the trails with me and patiently waited (frequently) as I took notes.

The things I like most about this open space are the views and the quiet. I also admire the passion of the people who saved it from being being developed.

You can read my article in the Fall 2025 issue of Bay Nature magazine here.

Serendipity and Writing Retreats

 

I write this from Kaneohe on the island of Oahu in Hawaii. The trade winds blow through windows that look out on the jagged Ko’olau Range. The desk at which I am working belongs to the grandson of a primary character in my biography about Jack London and his formative, lifelong relationship with San Francisco Bay. My host’s “grandpa” was Yoshimatsu Nakata, London’s longtime valet, first mate, and surrogate son.

I am on a two-month writing retreat. While this retreat is extra special, it is an example of the type of writing retreat I have given myself for years: When friends and family go on vacation, I retreat to their houses and write.

Most people associate writing retreats with residency programs. As an example, I launched my biography about Ina Coolbrith during a month-long residency at Blue Mountain Center in the Adirondacks, where I studied my subject and swam in the lake every day. As the leaves started to change color at the end of September, the mail carrier told me, “We don’t do that here.”

Residency programs are great but there is another way to give yourself the gift of concentrated writing, and that is the way that led me to Kaneohe. It’s simple, with no application or competition required. When friends and family go on a trip, I lug my materials to their homes in San Francisco, Berkeley, or Gilroy, California (or in this case, across the ocean to Oahu), and work without the distractions of home. Yes, I walk the dog, clean the kitty litterbox, and put the chickens in a coop at night, but these are minor chores compared to the rewards. Separation from your own living space results in concentrated writing time that can help you go deeper and make connections, get more work done, and form new habits. 

Here in Kaneohe, I have established a new routine. I go to bed early and wake up naturally before dawn. While the coffee is brewing, I shun my phone with its distracting emails and disturbing news. Instead, I do five sun salutations and read a poem. I got the poem idea from editor Susan Leon at the most recent Biography Lab. (I was here in Oahu during the Lab and that afternoon found a Poem a Day book in my host’s bathroom.) .

Serendipity can happen on a writing retreat. More than a decade ago, while working on a biography of the poet Ina Coolbrith, I was on a retreat at a friend’s house in Berkeley, California. One day on my routine lunchtime walk in the residential hills, I discovered a cluster of paths, stairways, and streets named after literary men I had been writing about that morning! Bret Harte, Charles Warren Stoddard, and Mark Twain were represented, but where was Ina? The byways were all named after men, most of whom had left California, whereas Ina had stayed and become California’s first poet laureate (and has recently been inducted into the 2025 CA Hall of Fame). To include her, I recited her poetry on subsequent walks.

Ina Coolbrith Circle's Richard Angilly and Claire Baker
(with me in the middle) help celebrate the new path in 2017.

When the book was finished, I gave a reading at a Berkeley bookstore and suggested that Harte give up one of his four byways. Several local groups heeded the call and changed the name of Bret Harte Lane to Ina Coolbrith Path and installed a handsome biography plaque at the bottom of the stairway.

Serendipity can happen, but poop also happens when there are dogs, cats, bunnies, and chickens involved. It is unlikely that you, like me, will get locked in a chicken coop at dusk without your phone for 30 minutes before discovering the string that sets you free, or that you will have a naughty beagle that growls at your host’s puppy at mealtime. You will, however, leave the dishes in the sink, cook when you feel like it, and remain un-showered for days to put your writing first.

My writing retreats usually last from five days to two weeks, so how is it that I get to stay at this comfortable and quiet home in Kaneohe for two whole months? I met my host by letter and then visited him and his wife in Kaneohe last year. They graciously showed me family photos and we paid our respect at Nakata’s grave (everyone called him Nakata, not Yoshimatsu). Back at home in California, I shared all my research about Nakata with his grandson. He was grateful because although as a boy he knew his grandpa, the two never talked about Nakata’s early years with London. After leaving London’s employ, Nakata became a dentist and lived a long and fruitful life in Honolulu. 

Last summer, my hosts visited Jack London State Park in Glen Ellen, California. I arranged for a docent to show them around and joined them. As we drove around the park in a bumpy golf cart, I mentioned my writing retreats. I wasn’t thinking about their home in Oahu, but they latched onto the idea. They wanted to travel and, as they are supportive of my project, the plan blossomed from there.

Today, my hosts are in India, and I am in Kaneohe. The wall behind the desk is covered with framed family photos. At top center is a photo of Nakata as a fit and healthy old man. He looks kind and quietly satisfied with his life. I cannot help but smile when I glance at him, surrounded by photos of his progeny. I feel pride for this Issei who came to Hawaii as a Japanese immigrant and who at seventeen signed on as London’s cabin boy aboard the Snark in Hilo, Hawaii. I thank Nakata for the pivotal role he played in the last years of London’s life and for making me feel at home in Kaneohe.

——

A longer version of this essay first appeared in “The Biographer’s Craft: The Magazine for Writers and Readers of Biography,” Biographers International Organization, April 2025, V 20, No 2. Aleta has been a member of Biographers International Organization since 2021.

 

"Amistad en popa: London y Nakata" in Mexico City's El Universal newspaper

Image courtesy of The Huntington Library, San Marino, CA

Several months ago I received an email from a reporter in Mexico City who had read an article I wrote about the discovery of Nakata's diaries, "Nakata's Smile: Unlocking the Diaries of Jack London's Valet." She interviewed me about London and Nakata's relationship and my book in progress about Jack London and San Francisco Bay.

The resulting article and interview, "Amistad en popa: London y Nakata," came out in El Universal on March 9, 2025. The article is in Spanish. To read it in English you can tap the translate icon in a Google search bar.

Professors Nagako Muto and Takaharu Mori from the International University of Kagoshima adapted and translated a three-month section of the 1914 diary for my book in progress, with assistance from graduate students Kaoru Nishihara, Chisato Kubota, and Sato Shirakubo.

Ina Coolbrith joins the California Hall of Fame!

CaliforniaMuseum.org

What do Ina Coolbrith, Julia Child, Dian Fossey, and Tina Turner have in common?

All have been inducted into the 18th class of the California Hall of Fame.

Learn more about the all-women 18th class here.

Ina walked to California on the Overland Trail at age eleven and fell in love with poetry under open skies. She started publishing poems at age fifteen and became the heart of early San Francisco's literarti. As Oakland's first public librarian, she mentored Isadora Duncan and Jack London.

She was crowned California's first poet laureate during the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition, making her the nation's first state laureate.

This is a win for Ina's legacy and for poets! Ina loved poetry and she loved California. "For California is a poem!" she said, words that are carved into the marble rotunda of the California State Library building in Sacramento.

Read more about Ina in my biography,

Ina Coolbrith: The Bittersweet Song of California's First Poet Laureate,

Bronze Medal in Biography, 2016 Independent Publisher Book Awards

The Summit

Mount Ina Coolbrith and an unwritten poem are alike. Both are wild with no established entry points, no trails to follow, and no signs telling you which way to go. They are also different: While a poem has a metaphorical peak to scale, few have climbed Mount Ina Coolbrith, an 8,068-foot-tall mountain in the Sierra Nevada, six miles southeast of Beckwourth Pass where Ina crossed into California at eleven years old.

On a June day in 2018 I scaled it at sixty years old. We rose before dawn, but it took hours to find a good starting point. Though Mount Ina Coolbrith is on U.S. Forest Service land, its base is a sea of sagebrush, fences, and “No Trespassing” signs. With me were my husband, Dave; Wade, our fox terrier (dumb idea); and Debbie Bulger and Richard Stover, peak climbers in their retirement.

Mount Ina Coolbrith was the last item on my bucket list of Coolbrith-related pilgrimages. As her biographer, I visited her birthplace in Nauvoo, Illinois; walked the cities where she lived; and paid my respects at her Mountain View Cemetery gravesite, which had gone unmarked for years until the Ina Coolbrith Circle righted the wrong with an elegant pink marble headstone.

At around 10 a.m., we began our ascent on the west side of the mountain with its arid expanse of sweet-smelling sage and yellow mule’s ears. Up, up, up we went. By the time we neared the summit it was nearly five p.m., and clear to me that the effort was beyond my stamina. The sun was low, and the vehicles several ridges away.

Debbie pointed to the summit where we would register our names and leave a copy of Coolbrith’s “In Blossom Time.” As the others climbed the Volkswagen-sized boulders to reach it, I chose to stay behind and gather my resolve for what I knew would be an arduous hike down.

We descended by a different route, and with ankles askew, slid on loose talus, skirted sage brush, and pushed our way through dead manzanita bushes. After hours of walking on the near-sheer terrain, my thigh muscles went rubbery, and it was harder to catch myself when I slid. Wade, our terrier, had reached his limit, too, and was hitching a ride in Dave’s backpack.

The sun went down. It was a moonless night and by 10 p.m. it was pitch dark. Dave and I were unprepared. We didn’t have headlamps or a flashlight; I had a light on my phone, but Dave’s phone was dead.

The second time I fell, my heels touched my butt, and I knew I was in trouble. “I think we have to spend the night on the mountain,” I said for all to hear.

“No!” Debbie said sternly in the dark. “I won’t let you die on this mountain!”

Richard took my backpack, and we continued to walk for another hour on a black hillside that slanted near the angle of repose.

Finally, we made it back to the vehicles at 12:30 a.m., drove to our campground, and collapsed. The next day I couldn’t walk, and days of hot baths didn’t help. I saw a physical therapist and used a cane for five months until my knees began to track again.

I didn’t reach the summit, but I am at peace with that. Like writing a poem, a pilgrimage is about the journey, and summit or no, I still climbed Mount Ina Coolbrith.

By Aleta George, written for The Gathering 16, The Ina Coolbrith Circle Poetry Anthology 2024-25

Dave George, Aleta George, Richard Stover, and Debbie Bulger

 

 

 

California Forever's planned city is practically in my backyard

Site of proposed 17,500-acre city in southeastern Solano County.
Photo by Aleta George.

As an environmental journalist who has covered open space and development issues for two decades and a resident of Solano County, I have followed California Forever's plans to build a new city. The 17,500-acre planned city is twenty minutes from my house on land that I know and love.

After several months of attending town halls and events, talking to supporters and detractors, and studying the proposal, I wrote about it with the goal to cover both sides of the issue fairly. 

I also covered what it might mean for the Suisun Marsh, the only tidal brackish wetland of its kind and size that’s left on the West Coast, and a wetland that could play a vital role in mitigating sea level rise. Although the planned California Forever city is not sited within the Suisun Marsh, it has holdings that border it. 

Read "Wheat Fields or Walkable City for Solano Open Space" in KneeDeep Times, the Bay Area's climate resilience magazine.

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Yoshimatsu Nakata's Hawaiian Home

In the deep shade of an 80-foot-tall monkeypod tree in the O'ahu Cemetery in Honolulu, Hawaii, I paid my respects to Yoshimatsu Nakata, Jack London's longtime valet and surrogate son.

Nakata was central to London's life, and is featured in my book in progress about London's formative and lifelong relationship with the San Francisco Bay.

Nakata started as a cabin boy on the Snark, the boat that London built to sail around the world. When the trip was cut short, Nakata returned to California as the author's valet. Nakata was also London's first mate and surrogate son.

After eight years, Nakata married his sweetheart, Momoyo, and left London to study dentistry. In Honolulu he opened a successful practice, raised his children, Gertrude and Edward, and was elected president of the Hawaii Dental Association. He died in 1967 at age seventy-eight.

I visited the Nakata family gravesite with Yoshimatsu's grandson James Nakata, Edward's son, and his lovely wife, Lisa.

In the Japanese tradition, Jim washed the marble stone with water and a sponge in homage to his ancestors.

Nakata purchased the stone and site for his family, and I couldn't help but feel proud of him, an Issei who had migrated to Hawaii as a teenager.

Jim's office includes photos of his "grandpa." The cabinet at right was in the dental office that Yoshimatsu shared with his son, Edward, who became a dentist and a partner in the practice. 

The historic photos are courtesy of The Huntington Libary. All others by Aleta George.