Butano State Park

According to Ohlone lore, butano means “a gathering place for friendly visits.” Hikers will find the name still rings true. Tucked between sharp Santa Cruz Mountains ridges, Butano State Park feels both hidden and welcoming, the sort of place where the forest itself seems to lean in and say, “Take your time, stay awhile.”

On the map, Butano looks like it should be crowded-wedged as it is between the booming Bay Area and busy Highway 1. In reality, the park has a quiet, almost forgotten air. At 3,500 acres, it’s not enormous by state park standards, but it feels remote in the best way-especially when you’re deep under the redwoods and all you hear is the rush of Butano Creek and the chatter of jays in the canopy.

Most of the trees here are second-growth redwoods, products of the same late-19th and early-20th century logging booms that stripped much of the Santa Cruz Mountains. But the loggers didn’t get everything. In hidden groves and on steep slopes, some grand old first-growth specimens remain, towering above the younger forest like patient elders.

Butano is more than redwoods, though. The park’s terrain is diverse: fern-fringed creeks, moss-draped Douglas fir, tangles of blackberry, and even open meadows where wildflowers pop in spring. The higher ridges offer something rare in a redwood park-a view. From Año Nuevo Lookout, you can gaze down the coast toward the famous elephant seal reserve, scanning the horizon all the way to Año Nuevo Island.

For me, Butano carries a special charm. It’s a park where the trails feel like old friends: not flashy, not famous, but reliable, restorative, and somehow more personal. It’s the redwood park you discover when you’ve already checked off the Big Names-Big Basin, Henry Cowell-and you’re ready for something quieter, with fewer crowds, and maybe a little more soul.