My 35th birthday took place on a Tuesday, and I spent the rest of that week anticipating the hike and lunch I’d planned for Saturday. Through a series of WhatsApp messages, texts, and in-person conversations, I’d rallied a group of friends to join me for a walk outdoors and lunch at my favorite spot in Mill Valley. 

I was somewhat desperate for it, that casual walk in nature. I’d been feeling untethered as of late, all the parts of me pulling in different directions while I tried, with lost fingers, to hold onto them, to form them back into something new.

When I’m feeling dissatisfied with life, I often find that carving time outside can help. I decided my birthday would be the perfect excuse to wrangle others to join me. It’s a form of therapy, that intimate-non-intimate exchange with friends when you’re both in motion on a trail.

About Tenessee Valley Trailhead

A wide, flat road guides you between hills for the first half of the walk and then splits into two trails, one lower trail lined with soon-to-blossom trees and the other higher up on the hill. The two trails merge at the end, opening to Tennessee Valley Beach, a cove nestled between cliffs that look like they could belong to Ireland’s coastline if they weren’t here.

It’s an easy walk, about 1.7 miles, and ends with the opportunity to climb up to the top of the cliffs for an overview of the beach below. 

Parking

There’s a dirt parking lot at the trailhead with two sections that are marked for cars. A stable is also located here, with young equestrians trotting in an arena directly up the hill from the parking lot. 

We arrived at 9:30 in the morning and the lot was already full with a line of cars parked along the side of the road. Our car pulled in directly behind another friend’s on the right-hand side of the road, tires sliding onto the grass at an angle. 

There were a lot of people trail running as well as group of volunteers who were doing some type of trail maintenance in the marshy part of the landscape, so it made sense that the lot of full despite our early-ish arrival. 

Tennessee Valley Beach Bathrooms

There are two sets of bathrooms on this hike. The first is located in the parking lot on the far right side. It’s a standard box with two stalls and pit toilets. They’re fairly well maintained for an outhouse, and most of us stopped to use these toilets before heading on the walk. 

The second bathroom is toward the end of the walk where the upper trail re-merges with the lower trail to lead toward the beach. 

The hike itself

I’d originally chosen a longer hike, 6.7 miles, that would take approximately two-and-a-half hours to complete. Reflecting on the size of the group, I switched it to a shorter loop: the Marincello, Miwok, and Old Springs Loop. 

I figured arrival times would be staggered and I had no idea what the stamina or pace was like across all of my friends. 

Standing in the parking lot, I looked to the right of the bathroom where a large paved path led toward green rolling hills. It struck me then that I had been there before. Eight years ago. I’d been searching for this walk ever since.

I’d loved its flat terrain, its short distance, and that it ended at the ocean where waves crashed toward the shore, roaring whitewash and whispy peaks.

My memory (along with two lone photographs posted to my Instagram) told me that the hike was called the Tennessee Cove hike. However, when I’d previously searched AllTrails for it, I always ended up at a different Tennessee Valley hike. (Not that I was complaining. The other hike has cliffs, and a beach, and a pub and had soon become a new favorite). 

However, I’d always wanted to return to this one. Now, here I was on my 35th birthday, staring out through the iron gates toward the path I knew would take us to the ocean. It felt right. 

I decided to switch things up and walk down this path instead of the loop I’d planned for. We moved in a big group, energy high, past eucalyptus trees to the left. There was also a euphoric enthusiasm amongst us as the fog began to burn off and we felt the temperature rise. It had been so cold while we waited for everyone to arrive, and many of us had hidden our hands in pockets beneath multiple layers we’d worn.

The paved path turned to dirt and the sun shone even brighter. It was a white light, breaking through the clouds and puncturing into blue that promised itself in the sky. The grass to either side of us was a chartreuse green and though the branches of the trees appeared bare at first, upon closer inspection it was clear that buds were soon to be blossoms.

It was fun to just listen to the chit-chat of friends, joining in when it made sense, discussing important topics like Love Island and red-light face mask investments. 

When the path opened to show us blue water beyond, we changed topics to that of a blue heron who stalked on long legs, bending and straightening like a puppet’s, as he moved closer to where two crows pecked the ground. 

A few chose to climb their way to the viewpoint on the cliffs above, while a group of us continued onto the beach, crossing a small stream by hopping rocks.

Things got serious, then, as we gathered together in a circle to answer the hard-hitting question: If you were a mermaid (or merperson), what color would your tail be?

Once we’d made our life-changing decisions, and the others had returned from their vista above, it was already time to turn around and head back the way we’d come. We wanted to get to our cars in time to drive over to the Junction to snag a table (or three) for the big group.

In-and-out trails can be tedious at times, my brain craving something different rather than having the same views, but the ease of this hike and the discussions we fell into about future jobs, personal growth (yes, we got deep), and funny memories from when we were much younger, made the experience fly by, and soon we were back in the parking lot and walking out to our cars. 

The Junction in Mill Valley

I feel like I’ve written about it so many times, but the Junction remains my favorite place to stop for a bite and a drink after a hike. 

This little beer garden is located off the main road in Mill Valley. At the far end is a playground where families can bring their kids to play, while they enjoy food and drinks and the company of other grown-ups. 

In the front and all along the middle sections are rows of wooden picnic tables with metal QR codes for you to order from. Pizza Hacker is the food vendor and has an incredible kale Caesar salad (which we ordered about six of). 

We each also grabbed a drink (my choice is always the sour ale on tap which somehow comes out creamy and the exact mix of sweet and sour). There are also non-alcoholic drinks, a huge beer menu, and wine. 

We sat in the sun, excited when our pizzas arrived (shroomies, arugula, margherita, something with meat) and swapped slices across tables as we all ordered different pies. 

To end it all, we got soft serve with dark salt and olive oil, and as the group dwindled from twenty to six, we turned on the heating lamps and enjoyed the last hours of the winter day. 

I may be lost, but hikes, good food, and great company may find me whenever

As I stated at the start of this recap, I’ve been feeling a bit lost lately. 

I don’t necessarily think it’s because I’m another year older, though I’m certainly not who or what I thought I’d be at this age. I think it’s more because I’m realizing there is an opportunity for change, and I want to do it now, but am feeling insecure about that. 

It has a lot to do with still trying to figure out who I am, and who I want to be. There is a hopelessness in it that is tender to me right now. 

However, one thing is certain. 

When I ask myself what makes me feel full. What gives me that belly satisfaction, warm chest glow, it is this: walking in a beautiful place with equally beautiful people and creating company that feels as interesting and complex as it does simple. 

And that’s where we ended it. Warm sun fading, and the last of us remaining, laughing hard over beers and pizza hidden in boxes, ready to be eaten as soon as we arrived back home.