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On early summer mornings John Muir would climb the stairs of his house to the bell tower above the attic. Here he would meditate and survey grand vistas of fruit orchards and the sweep of hills. Admiring the 360-degree views, his gaze may have turned farther east toward his beloved Sierras. With peace of mind, he would descend to his daily work, managing the ranch and fighting to save America’s resources. 

John Muir, father of the National Park System, led a rich and well-traveled life—Scotland to Wisconsin, a 1,000-mile walk from Kentucky to the Gulf of Mexico, a voyage to California and years spent exploring the Sierra Nevadas—but the last 34 years of his life were spent in Martinez. 

John Muir National Historic Site is a nine-acre preserve, all that remains of the original 2,600 acres, consisting of a Visitor Center, Muir House, grounds and orchards, and Mt. Wanda. A visit here offers a first hand look at Muir’s most productive years, at his life as a doting father, an astute businessman and a prolific writer. 

I began my tour at the visitor center watching Earth, Planet, Universe, learning about Muir’s life and philosophies through this visually appealing video peppered with Muir’s quotes. The broad selection of Muir books and videos and the striking black-and-white vintage photographs and memorabilia further display the depth of this man. 

Using an excellent self-guiding tour booklet of the entire site, I set out to experience Muir’s final years.  

Muir’s marriage to Louie Stentzel in 1880 brought him to the Alhambra Valley, entering into partnership with his father-in-law on his fruit ranch. Viewing the orchards outside the visitor center I envisioned the ranch described on information kiosks—Percheron draft horses plowing, windmills drawing water, and Chinese workers skillfully pruning and grafting.  

A circular path past palm trees, flowers, and the apple orchard leads to the imposing hilltop structure of Muir House, a handsome 17-room Italianate house. Under twelve-foot ceilings, heated by seven fireplaces and lit by kerosene lamps, Muir raised his two daughters, entertained supporters for his cause and wrote.  

For me, Muir’s presence was strongest in his bedroom, uncurtained by request, where he would awaken to the light of the sun, and in his “Scribble Den”. Here he worked, surrounded by piles of manuscripts and books; the Sierra Club symbol, the multi-use tin cup, atop his desk; and balls of dried bread, Muir’s favorite snack, on the mantle. Urging presidents and lawmakers to establish the National Forest Service and five national parks, and helping to found the Sierra Club, he was tireless in his crusades. 

Next door in the Sierra Club Exhibit Room, vintage photos of early club outings attest to Muir’s philosophy that taking men and women into the Sierras to camp, walk and fish, to experience wild nature, would inspire them to fight for its preservation. Thanks to Muir “thousands of tired, nerve shaken people are finding that going to the mountains is going home, that wildness is a necessity and that mountain parks are useful as fountains of life.” 

It’s a lovely walk from Muir House through orchards of cherry, plum, quince, pear, apricot and orange, past the Carriage House and windmill and across Franklin Creek to the Martinez Adobe. Testament to an earlier history, the house was part of 17,000 acres owned by the Martinez family during the Spanish and Mexican land grant period. An attractive two-story house, it’s constructed of two-foot thick adobe bricks and a wood shingle roof, with views from the wide verandas overlooking the orchards. Though John Muir never lived here, it later became the home of his daughter Wanda and her family. Inside, light from large windows illuminates exhibits that chronicle the history of the Martinez area, while the spacious rooms tantalize anyone in search of a comfortable home in a bucolic setting.  

A short drive from Muir House brings you to Mt. Wanda, 325 acres with the highest peaks at 640 feet and 660 feet named after daughters Helen and Wanda. Here, Muir, foremost a botanist, sauntered with his daughters instructing them in correct botanical names. Today the 1.3-mile Muir Nature Trail begins 0.5 mile up from a poorly marked trailhead where self-guiding brochures are available. I climbed the acorn-lined trail bordered with a carpet of verdant grasses, miner’s lettuce and moss-covered boulders. Above me the branches of oak, laurel and willow formed a canopy of dark, lichen-coated branches. The Muir Trail brochure calls attention to the land today and the changes it has undergone while sharing Muir’s visions. Looking east toward Mt. Diablo Muir would have seen a broad sweep of grasslands and tree-cloaked hillsides as far as his “Range of Light,” the Sierras. What would Muir think if he were alive today? 

Muir wrote, “Wedges of development are being driven hard and none of the obstacles of nature can long withstand the march of this immeasurable industry.” Little did Muir know that his prophecy would include his own home. My imagination was far stretched envisioning Muir in this setting, today abutting Highway 4 and a mere enclave in a sea of homes and businesses, surrounded by the sights and sounds of industry. Coming to this historic site, so far removed from wild nature, brought home the importance of Muir’s fight, today more than ever. Without great efforts toward conservation, wilderness will continue to be chipped away, piece by piece. 

Extend your outing away from the highway and the past into downtown Martinez and Martinez Regional Shoreline along the Carquinez Strait.  

Downtown Martinez has that definite “old town” feel: narrow, tree-lined streets, cobbled sidewalks and historic stone buildings with plaster and brick foundations. Three blocks of browse-worthy shops, many centered around antiques, memorabilia, and collectibles, and, of course, food. It’s a pleasant stroll past windows displaying pieces of the past, including the headquarters of the Contra Costa County Historical Society. Fresh flowers, intricate quilts, homemade candy and bakery goods, aromatic coffee, and your choice of food from Mexico, China, Japan and good old-fashioned steamed hot dogs. 

I ended my day at Martinez Regional Shoreline, a large recreational complex of playgrounds, grassy fields, picnic facilities and an extensive marshland. On a cold foggy day, looking out at the water, the resident and migrating bird life far outnumbered people. Pickleweed Trail, wooden boardwalks and an eye-drawing arch bridge over Alhambra Creek call to walkers and cyclists. Trailside dedicated benches and those facing the Strait invite you to enjoy the peaceful sea of dry rushes and reeds and the open blue of the waters beyond watching mud hens and sandpipers exploring the marsh. 

Driving home on Highway 4, the beautiful green rolling hills with scattered dwellings took me back to John Muir. At the top of the bell tower, this land is what he viewed as he prepared to write. Books and articles urging man away from consuming and destroying, and toward the wise use of Earth’s resources. A great man is one who’s words live on, never losing their truth. John Muir—a great man.›