Sun Bruno Resident Discovers Milagra Ridge

By JOHN MURPHY

Descending Sharp Park Road on Friday night to cover the Sacred Heart Prep at Terra Nova High football game, the sign caught my eye.

“Milagra Ridge” it said — part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. I live about a mile away in San Bruno. I needed to check this place out and on Sunday and Monday I did just that. It didn’t disappoint. .

Milagra is about seven miles south of San Francisco. The views are tremendous. The scrub-covered terrain is what biologists call an island ecosystem. It is home to Red-tailed Hawks, the endangered Mission Blue and San Bruno elfin butterflies and the California red-legged frog.

I didn’t know any of this until I arrived at this small, elevated chunk of land, surrounded by big houses. I just wanted to get some exercise and avoid watching the Oakland Raiders.

Sunday afternoon on my first trip it was bright and clear. Monday was gray and foggy, with rain cascading down. Both days were enjoyable in their own ways.

Native Ohlone wandered Pacifica including Milagra Ridge for thousands of years until the Spanish crashed their party, according to the National Park Service blurb I read. The hills of Pacifica became part of the Rancho San Pedro. Livestock grazed, artichokes were grown — it was all good unless you were an Ohlone.

In the late 1930s the Army acquired the ridge and made it part of a network to defend the bay. The battery had two 6-inch guns installed. It was decommissioned in 1950. In 1958 the site was converted to the nuclear-capable Nike-Hercules system and was fenced with barbed wire and patrolled by guards with dogs.

Traversing the trails and steps and rolling hills of Milagra, I saw evidence of the site’s military past. Most of what remains now are stone foundations. But the original gun battery is still there, coated with the graffiti of local artisans.

Along my fog-shrouded and rain-soaked way Monday I learned of the Mission Blue butterfly. Yes, it’s endangered and feeds on the host lupine. How do I know this — it says so on signs spread around the ridge; I wrote it down in my soggy reporter’s notebook as the rain pelted me. Anyway, the Mission Blue goes into a dormant stage during the winter and then emerges in the spring as a caterpillar.

Ascending some steep wooden steps to the summit, I could hear my breath grow heavy as birds chirping overhead. One winged new friend of mine glided along and seemed to mock me — free as the bird he is and not tied to Smartphone, job or any such worries.

By the end of the trail I reached the picturesque bluff overlooking the coast that has a spectacular view of the Pacifica Pier in the distance and Oceana High down below. Closing my eyes I imagined the iconic football coach Bill Gray 35 years ago, guiding the Oceana Sharks with a firm hand.

“Cmon now, make a play,” Gray would have said. “Somebody make a play, damn it.”

Those days are gone and aren’t coming back. But happily, Milagra Ridge remains.

Photo courtesy: John Murphy