High grass on the Point Reyes Muddy Hollow Loop means high risk for ticks
Having driven by the sign announcing the Muddy Hollow trailhead about a million times on our way to other destinations at Point Reyes National Seashore, we finally decided to devote a hiking afternoon to the area. We’re glad we did, and we’re also glad that we searched carefully for ticks after getting home.
We could tell how Muddy Hollow got its name. Despite the dryness of peak July in Marin, the trail still bore clear traces of deep mud and the people and animals that had slogged through it. Trail reports warn that during damper times of the year, appropriate footwear is a must.
Also a must, we realized belatedly, is long pants, preferably tucked into socks.
The area offers some confusion for new users, as there is a Muddy Hollow Trail and a Muddy Hollow Road, which is not a road but also a trail. Muddy Hollow Trail begins directly from the trailhead parking lot, heading south/southwest toward Limantour. Muddy Hollow Road (which is not a road) begins just past an overgrown-looking opening in a fence to the right of the parking lot and starts with a creek crossing.
For the loop we did, we headed out in a clockwise direction, down Muddy Hollow Trail. It starts with a generous fire-road width that rapidly narrows into a single track where poison oak and nettles may swipe at you. The early part of the trail is occasionally sheltered under Bishop pines, but much of this loop passes through open coastal scrub, so sunscreen and a good hat are recommended — along with long pants and socks and, during the rainy season, appropriate shoes.
The 7.4-mile loop passes from Muddy Hollow Trail to the Estero Trail, before taking a turn onto the Glenbrook Trail. Glenbrook connects to Muddy Hollow Road, which leads back to the parking area.
From the beginning, the path climbs fairly gently for a few hundred feet before dropping as it skirts an inlet and crosses Glenbrook Creek. The park service warns that during winter and spring, the trail in this low-lying area may have standing water. Keep an eye out for a stand of eucalyptus trees, marking the location of the first dairy in Point Reyes, and possibly in Marin, according to the park service. The trees are the sole remains of what was the New Albion Ranch, planted there as a windbreak.
The trail then leaves the creek behind in another gentle uphill climb. A hairpin turn just shy of land’s end takes hikers eastward, away from the coast. Just at that turn, look north and west for expansive views of Limantour Spit, Drakes Head and in the distance, the Chimney Rock area.
The trail through much of this section is quite narrow, some of it completely hidden under the tall grass on either side. As we walked through these segments, we held our hands high as the grass brushed us from the waist down. And yes, we regretted the lack of long pants.
But we did not regret bearing witness to the natural world around us. We saw a garter snake snag something small and furry for lunch and spotted a solo bull elk on a hillside and an elk cow in a grassy open space. Blackberries were beginning to ripen trailside, sticky monkey-flower rivaled the fading golden poppy for color, coast paintbrush popped with red and yellow, and dandelions had already gone to seed, ready for the winds.
Concerned that we had picked up passengers that might have wanted to dine on us, we paused frequently along the way to check for ticks. We didn’t see any, but on our return home, one of us discovered an almost microscopic specimen still in the exploratory phase and not yet latched on.
Trail reports since our visit indicate that some vegetation clearing has taken place, but if you plan on doing this hike, a word to the wise: wear pants.
Getting there: Take Sir Francis Drake to Bear Valley Road in Point Reyes. After 1.25 miles on Bear Valley Road, turn left onto Limantour Road. After 5.9 miles, at the bottom of a steep hill, turn right onto Muddy Hollow Road. There is a dirt parking lot at the trailhead and no facilities. Dogs are not allowed.
Emily Willingham is a Marin science journalist, book author and biologist. You can find her on Bluesky @ejwillingham or Instagram at emily.willingham.phd.