If you’re looking for a getaway, outdoor fun, sun, and maybe some wine tasting, the small town of Los Gatos is a great choice. Set in the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains, this affluent hamlet, with a Victorian downtown, is a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of urban living. As you drive into town, you pass Netflix headquarters, and you realize, this is perhaps where the 1% live, a notion that was confirmed at the stylish Purple Onion Café, where at 10 a.m., the place was hopping with expensively clad moms chatting and nibbling, post workout. The Illy coffee and yummy breakfast items made with cage-free eggs, local produce, and freshly baked whole-grain breads were tantalizing.

For lunch, a traditional Irish pub with Americanized pub grub, was a more down home option. C.B. Hannegan’s was bustling with business folks and families; the outdoor garden was so pleasant and portions big enough to share. The beer choices were impressive and International, with 15 on draught.

Another must dine spot, great if you’re on your way to Santa Cruz, is The Cats Restaurant and Tavern, just off highway 17. Originally a pit stop on the old stage line, the Cats Roadhouse was once a welcome spot for horse-drawn lumber wagons on their way to San Jose, as well as a rowdy social club for locals.  In the Roaring 20s, the Cats was one of the area’s most notorious speakeasies and bordellos! Renovated and reopened in 2008, the menu still features BBQ favorites and is certainly a crowd pleaser after a day at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk or hiking the mountains!

Camping options abound. Two of my favorites are Big Basin Redwoods State Park and Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. It can get cold under the redwoods, so pack accordingly!

Finally, if you want to splurge, a stay at the Mediterranean boutique hotel and spa, Hotel Los Gatos, is quite a treat. The pool is small but with mosaic tiles and an ample hot tub, a perfect spot early morning, midday or at night for a dip and soak. The hotel has a Moorish feel mixed with California Mission, and the rooms were luxurious but in a cozy way.

Mediterranean food is one of my favorite cuisines, and I have to say since I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area nearly 20 years ago I have been on a constant hunt for Greek Cuisine from high-end to gyros. Dio Deka, fine Hellenic cuisine, really lived up to its Michelin Star hype. The food, ambiance, presentation and service were really top notch, from the marinated kalamata olives in chili and rosemary to the spanikopita, pork ribs and these delectable crispy potatoes with smoked roe.

The wine list was overwhelming, but we chose a crisp New Zealand white and sat out, talking and savoring the special tastes, as if we were on the island of Santorini or an Athens plaza. I took a close friend to celebrate a recent triumph, but I could imagine taking my two boys there, all rumpled in their “fancy” clothes, perhaps for a special occasion. Luckily there are plenty of tapas-like options I think many older kids would appreciate, if your budget allows.

All in all, if you’re looking for a staycation in the Bay Area, a romantic getaway, a taste of “Peninsula living” or an overnight splurge, the combination of great food and wine, ample hiking and biking spots and wineries galore, make a trip to Los Gatos, the Cat’s Meow!

We drove through Yosemite a few weekends ago. It was packed with summer travelers and waterfall gawkers. The major falls are glorious, and fuller than they have been in years. New, smaller falls have even appeared much to the delight of park goers.

As we drove through the park, out past Mono Lake, we were stunned by the high water levels and snowy peaks in early July. We laughed, thinking that we could even cross-country ski in some spots above 7000 feet.

Record snowfalls this winter and heavy unseasonable rain in summer have made conditions epic for nature lovers but also hazardous.

Yosemite is drawing crowds, and visitors to the park should exercise caution while viewing the many falls and swollen creeks and rivers. Since June, there have been at least two people confirmed dead and two missing and presumed dead. The park has banned water rafting on the Merced River until the flows subside to their normal levels.

My son and a group of friends made the trek to Wapama Falls, a wonderful hike which wraps around the Hetch Hetchy reservoir. The photos were astounding, but just days later a Doctor and a friend, both experienced backpackers, were swept away by the torrents when crossing a small footbridge.  Sobering for the folks who took my son, who in hindsight, were fearful of the awesome cascade.

As we made our way back to the Sierras, we stayed at a friend’s house near Kirkwood Ski Resort. I took a short walk, alone, down to the “creek,” heretofore a tiny trickle, where as toddlers, my kids frolicked. At nearly 8,000 feet in elevation, the mule ears were just sprouting and snow patches still remained in early July. I decided to cross the creek and make a circle. Quickly I aborted my attempt. This repeated several times as the current was just too treacherous. I realized I was on my own and if swept away, it would not be a good scene.  I finally found a reasonable crossing point, and with numb legs and feet, made my way to the other side. Not only is the water higher, but it felt colder.

A recent article by Jane Brody in the New York Times Science section offers simple, but useful tips for both beach and mountain water fun. So get out and enjoy the majesty, but respect the elements and have caution!

Recently I joined a mini reunion of college pals in Sun Valley, Idaho for a trifecta of outdoor activities: mountain biking, fly-fishing, and river kayaking.

Read all about it in the San Francisco Chronicle travel section: Sun Valley’s Summer Rush.

100 miles north of San Francisco, the drive takes a good three hours if you take time to gawk at the Oscar winning coastline. We often stop in Bodega Bay for a fish and chips or clam chowder lunch to break up the drive. This time, my seven-year-old discovered he gets carsick, and if you are prone to motion sickness this drive will surely bring it on.

Sea Ranch was a pioneering eco-community begun in the late ’60s and early ’70s. The connection between the landscape and the architecture is beautiful and certainly contributes to the serenity of the place. I dislike gated communities or housing developments in general, but this place really has captured the benefits of a uniform style with strong community ethos. The sometimes simple, sometimes elaborate wood-frame structures were inspired by the local ranches and are designed to cope with the weather and integrate well with the topography.

We were invited to a beautiful rental house with our friends and planned a feast of a menu; after all, you work up an appetite strolling along the rugged coast. Our friends always insist on renting a house with a hot tub with a view of the sea and I must say, taking a dip with my morning coffee in tow before the kids awoke was a simple pleasure I won’t soon forget. This particular house was perched on the cliffs, and waking up to the Pacific Ocean view does wonders for the soul and spirit. When you add a roaring fire and a cocktail at sunset into the mix, then you’re really talking relaxation.

We brought bikes, yoga mats, board games, books and baking projects and we all read a ton! I switched between Patti Smith’s Just Kids and reading my little one The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, which we found on the bookshelf.

This house was owned by a writer and the bookshelves were organized and labeled like a library; a nice touch. Like the book, where the Little Prince famously asks the Aviator to draw him a sheep, a flock of sheep is used at Sea Ranch to keep grass cut low to the ground to reduce the threat of fire during the summer months. It was a tender moment when we made that connection.

There is an elegant pool that is kept heated in the winter. Very few folks braved the cold weather to take a dip, but a dry sauna made the pool all the more enticing, particularly after an invigorating bike ride against the wind. With seals basking on the rocks along the coast and clear crisp February weather, one of the best moments was making a driftwood fort on the beach.

Prices on rentals range about $200-$500 a night depending on location, size and amenities. It is a perfect venue for family reunions, romantic getaways or multi-family trips. Even in the rain or mist, Sea Ranch is a great place to unwind.

The mountain bike trails from the top of Sun Valley’s fabled Bald Mountain (9150 feet elevation) wind through meadows, switchback down sheer slopes, weave through pine forests, and really get the adrenaline flowing. We were cruising (or rather, braking) down eight-mile-long Warm Springs Trail because the friendly fellow who sold us tickets for the gondola to take us to the top sized us up and said, “Take Warm Springs Trail. You’ll see when you get up there that you have two choices, Cold Springs and Warm Springs. You folks want Warm Springs. It’ll be a lot better for you.” Then he grinned and said, as if questioning our resolve, “Cold Springs is not for the faint of heart.”

I would say that mountain biking on a ski mountain by definition is not for the faint of heart. Hence, the slow, careful progress of our party of five.

It’s not a stretch to say that one of us could easily have flown off the mountain over the three hours we made our way down. The widest part of the trail was about two feet, most of it was loose rock with the occasional boulder and gnarly tree root, and hairpin switchbacks took us down the steepest sections.

We were novices. At one point when one of us picked himself up from a minor crash and brushed off his skinned knees, a more experienced biker who stopped to help commented merrily, “If you aren’t bleeding it ain’t mountain biking!”

Even though we took our sweet time and stopped for lots of breaks to make sure we didn’t lose anyone, we saw few other bikers and felt we had the mountain to ourselves. And when we stopped we could appreciate the stupendous scenery over Idaho’s Sawtooth National Forest.

The wildflowers on the open slopes near the top dazzled us with their pinks and purples and yellows and blues, but as we descended and entered a forest burn zone we came upon a scene “straight out of the ‘Wizard of Oz,’” my friend Lee said: wild hollyhocks as far up and down the slope as we could see. In 40 years of mountain hiking (probably 200 years collectively), none of us had ever seen a wildflower show so spectacular.

When we reached the bottom, bruised, dusty, fingers locked in a claw grip and forearms aching from squeezing the handlebars, we all marveled that we had made it.

“Heck, I’d do it again,” George said. “But not tomorrow!”

The next stop was the Jacuzzi.