An Unexpected Adventure

March 27, 2026
Mount Ophir Mine, various trails
Total distance walked: 2.3 miles

Since the weather has warmed up over the past several weeks, I’ve fallen into a fun end‑of‑the‑week pattern: birding and wandering along the river with my grandkids and sometimes my sister. This week, though, our usual river visit took an unexpected turn. The outing itself was planned, but the hike that became the best part of the day was a last‑minute decision.

On the way to the Bagby Recreation Area, we stopped at Mount Ophir Mine—an 1850s ghost town near Bear Valley where trails branch out in every direction. Coincidentally, it had been four years to the day since Chris and I last hiked here. I hoped I would remember the trail system.

With backpacks, binoculars and water bottles, we left the car, stepped around a gate, and wandered into the brush and across the mostly dry creek.

Beyond, the trail split into several options: Hodson Hill, Halo’s Hike and a route toward Mineshaft Road. I let the kids choose. They picked the uphill climb—ultimately the smartest choice.

The trail rose straight up about 300 feet—no switchbacks, no gentle stretches, just a steady, determined ascent. As we climbed, the views opened behind us: rolling green hills dotted with oaks and pines. Alden announced he could “see the ocean,” though of course he could not.

Aubrey spotted a cow killer—the red velvet ant, really a female wasp with an extremely painful sting. Gracia reminded us they’re solitary insects, so there was no need to worry about others appearing. We watched it until it disappeared into the dirt.

We continued the climb. The kids were dazzled by the large pieces of quartz scattered along the trail and carried chunks like treasure. Maybe one or two small rocks made it home with them.

At the top, the trail leveled and cut through chaparral. We kept an eye out for poison oak, but it was mostly yerba santa, its purple-ish flower stalks reaching toward the sky.

At our feet, clusters of tiny scarlet pimpernel bloomed—more orange than scarlet. When the trail forked, we followed Alden to the right, only to find it climbing toward another very steep hill. One day we’ll tackle it; it leads to a bell hikers can ring at the top, giving the Bell Trail its name. For now, we chose the left fork, which eventually dropped into the old mining area scattered with tailings and shafts.

The Mariposa/Yosemite Airport sits nearby, so we waved at the small aircraft passing overhead on their way to land. Gracia told the kids that when pilots rock their wings back and forth, it means they’re waving back at us—a fact they took very seriously as each plane passed even though none did. Dad used to fly over our house when we were kids; we’d wave, and he’d rock his wings hello.

We continued until reaching the remains of the Mount Ophir Trabucco Store, the 1800s grocery that once served the miners. All that is left is a historic wall.

We ended our 2.3‑mile hike by re-crossing the creek in a different spot and strolling through tall grass dotted with California poppies, which the kids had learned not to pick. It was one more reminder that the little things they noticed along the way made this another great adventure.