Turkey Day dawns at Mission Peak |

So much for the full moon.

Actually there was no moon at all when I got to the Mission Peak trailhead and saw a couple parked cars and shadows of headlamp-wearing humans milling about.

John Fedak is the first face I recognize. Dan Mitchell comes up next, but I’m blinded by his headlamp so it takes a second to place the face. He introduces me to his friend Tom Clifton. Fedak mentions he had a full moon a couple weeks back when he was hiking in Southern California. Uh, note to y’all: when I say something idiotic it’s your moral obligation to correct me. Because otherwise I’m standing in the dark with people thinking “so if he’s this good about the phases of the moon, what are the chances he’ll get us to the top at sunrise?”

Actually I got that part right, but we couldn’t know it at the time.

In a couple minutes a 20-something guy shows up and says “I’m Randy… not in the British sense.”

Good to know.

He happened upon Two-Heel Drive while researching a Mount Whitney trip he was planning … that trip came and went a couple months back but he’s still hanging around at the blog, which must mean I’m doing something right. Or leading young men to their doom.

As promised, at 5:30 we set out for the Mission Peak summit. It’s dark enough to keep the headlights on for the first half-hour. Otherwise we tromp right through dung thoughtfully left in the trail by the grazing cattle, which regard us with incredulity as we pass.

As we leave the lights of Silicon Valley are behind us but as we get higher and the trail bends, we can see it all lit up like a family of spiders might decorate their webs for Christmas. The Stanford Avenue trailhead is really close to the valley’s edge, so this is among the nearest views of it from elevation. The gorgeous view has me thinking a predawn hike is such a good idea that there must be some way for me to take credit for it. OK, I get half the credit for the Turkey Day angle, but being wrong about the moon depletes my account a bit.

The impending sunrise is obvious during the last 20-minute push to the summit. We’re all sorta hustling to get up there before the orb rises over the ridge (the 1500 feet of climb in two miles, though, has taken a lot of the hustle out of us).

At the top, Dan, Tom and Randy are heading to the peak’s second summit to see what comes up. It’s about five minutes before the sun emerges from behind the Diablo Range.

The rising sun bathes everything in red, including Randy’s face as he gazes southward toward San Jose. Or perhaps his face is red because he’s hiked all the way up here and discovered his camera’s batteries have no charge left in them.

Dan points his camera toward Mount Diablo, about 40 miles north of us.

The alpen glow is wonderful, whether from a distance or right next to the rocks.

Fedak basks in the glow.

A worthy sunrise pic should be indistinguishable from a thermonuclear blast.

Taking a picture of the Mission Peak summit post is required. San Francisco and Mount Tamalpais are far in the distance.

We stay on the summit as long as we can stand it, but an unforgiving wind pounds the hillside and blows away the body heat our light jackets are trying in vain to hold in. It got seriously cold up there, so we packed up cameras and coffee and bailed for more temperate climes.

Clouds blow past the summit as we head back down the trail. As cold as it was when we were up there, we imagine a fog bank being the only thing that could’ve made it worse, so we were, well, thankful it was happening to somebody else.