Flashback: Cedar Peak

03/30/21

Mountains. Why do we climb them? There's nothing beneficial that comes out of climbing a mountain. There's no reward at the summit. You won't find a lake or a pond or a stream at the tippy top of a mountain. Those things are found much further down. Stop at the lake. Take a refreshing dip. Forget the mountain! There's nothing refreshing up there!

The barren summit of a mountain has no food. No 5-star meal. No all-you-can-eat buffet. Nothing to replenish your strength and refuel your energy tubes. There's no money at the top either. No 5 million dollars. No nothing. Just dirt, rocks and a view. A view, mind you, that you see the entire way up. Same view, different angle. Climbing a mountain for a view? Seriously? You can see better views from places that require way less time and energy. An airplane window. A turnout up a really curvy mountain road. Sitting on the beach and watching the sunset. Even at the top of a really large parking structure. A view is a view. "But the view is something that few people have seen." So? it's just a view. It's just pleasing to the eye. Just a sensation.

It's like smelling something really good. Like catching a whiff of fresh baked cookies after destroying your nostrils with the smells of car exhaust, urine and B.O. all day. You don't climb mountains for the view. Sure, don't get me wrong, the view is definitely a plus. It's definitely a part of the reason. But it ain't the sole reason. No. What is the reason? I haven't a clue. People are weird. No other animal will go out of its way to spend precious calories climbing a mountain just for the sake of climbing it. Only humans do that. Weird stuff. Perhaps it's the endorphin rush triggered by strenuous exercise that drives us to climb mountains. Maybe it's the clout. Maybe it's because we have nothing better to do. For me, I climb mountains for one reason: to be humbled.

Masochism plays a big role as well, but seriously—mountains really put you in your place. Some more than others. There exist a handful of peaks in the Los Padres that only a few dare to summit. These are the "SVS" peaks, peaks that are only known by few, incredibly isolated, and extremely difficult to climb. No trail leads you to the summits of these things. It's just you, the map, and grit that takes you to the top. The journey to the summit of one of these peaks is a truly humbling experience. The legend himself, David Stillman, once wrote "SVS stands for 'Seldom Visited Summit,' and when you see these letters on a summit register in the Southern Los Padres it means you worked your ass off to get there." And boy he wasn't kidding. 

Last March I decided to tackle one of these "SVS" peaks. Cedar Peak lies north of Piedra Blanca in between Reyes Peak and Thorn Point. It isn't labeled on any map, but at 6,794ft it can clearly be seen from the parking lot at the Sespe River trailhead. I began the easy part of the hike in the early dawn light. The nice jaunt from the parking lot to the Twin Forks campground was a perfect warmup for what was to come. Easy miles of undulating hills and minor creek crossings helped warm up the leg muscles before the punishing grade up and out of the valley into the distant mountains.

Piedra Blanca Creek

                                         

Twin Forks Campground 

The few miles between Twin Forks and the next checkpoint, Pine Mountain Lodge, are interesting to say the least. I don't know for sure how much elevation is gained in these miles, but my legs tell me that it is quite significant. Up and up and up you go, some switchbacks here, an arduous straightaway there, all of it done without a smack of shade. That's right. Pretty much all of this climb is in direct sunlight. Better to get at it early while the sun is still forgiving. 

To distract myself from my screaming legs I decided to keep track of how many ticks I was brushing off of my clothing. One tick here, two ticks there, five on my shirt, three on my hat. Who knows how many were hiding in my socks. In the end I managed to pick up 63 unwanted hitchhikers. After that I stopped counting. It was getting too tedious, you know?

Up and out

As I was making my way to the next checkpoint I immediately became fascinated by the abrupt change in scenery. Once you complete the laborious climb and gain the ridge of these mountains you almost immediately transition from prickly chaparral and scrub oak to an alpine paradise. Ok...not exactly alpine. But cedars and pines and the occasional manzanita overwhelm this new and magical environment. It is quite jarring. In one moment you are in the blazing sun, busting through thorny chaparral, and then suddenly you find yourself walking on top of thousands of pine needles in the cool shade of ancient pines. This mystical world of pine and stone continues to grow as you continue along the trail. With astonishing sandstone formations that are interspersed throughout the pines this place is just begging to be explored. It would take more than a lifetime to explore every nook and cranny, cave and crevice, drainage and ditch in this place. It's that huge. It's that fantastic. These mountains are truly something spectacular. A true paradise. A little slice of heaven. One of the few places where one can disassociate and revel in the sublime. 

Pine Mountain Lodge

At Pine Mountain Lodge I took a small breather before the even more punishing climb up to the take-off point where I would leave the trail in search of Cedar Peak. There's no lodge at Pine Mountain Lodge, but three lovely campsites and a good-looking stove make it a worthy destination. Plus the location, as I previously mentioned, is utterly magnificent. Definitely a great spot to camp. If you manage to find the "secret" original camp location you're in for a prettier location and total solitude.

Trail Out of PML

                                                   

Reyes Peak in the distance

Because I hardly ever use a GPS when I venture out into the woods I spend a lot of time looking at maps n' stuff. Spending hours and hours pouring over contour lines and 3D google earth satellite imagery really ingrains the imagined route in your mind. This method of route-finding (straight up memorization) is all well and good until it isn't. When you're tired you tend to make mistakes. And when you make mistakes you wish you had a GPS. Long story short I left the trail wayyy too early. I was getting tired of climbing and climbing and climbing so I left the trail, half hoping that I would just walk the ridge to the summit of Cedar Peak. I was wrong. 

After busting my way through manzanita and mountain whitethorn, climbing up and down and up again through several small valleys, and cursing my energy-costing impatience, I finally caught my fist glimpse of this elusive mountain.

Cedar Peak to the immediate right

By golly I was almost there! Now that I could actually see the damn thing I stopped and took a short break before tackling the summit. From my vantage point, it didn't look like too hard of a climb. But in the mountains, looks are almost always deceiving. This was no different. It sucked.

As I approached the base of the mountain I was greeted with a ghastly sight. A good 150 meter stretch of the saddle was choked with Ceonothus Cordulatus. Ugly, pokey, spiky abomination. Lucky for me, the previous dude to summit this thing had actually cut a faint trail through this hellish section of mountain whitethorn. Had it not been for this trail, I may have turned around. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt at the time and had already been torn to shreds during my adventurous, energy sapping mistake. Busting through this nonsense would not have been the best idea. Even with the faint path I still got sliced pretty damn bad, but it was better than nothing. That path was a godsend. 

After this small brush battle the real challenge ensued. In hindsight, I probably should have dipped down on the shaded, less steep, less brushy northern side of the mountain. But in my fatigued mind, I figured that climbing straight up the exposed and rocky ridge would be easier. An amusing scramble ensued. I jumped over crevices. Slid on icy patches. Lost my footing a few times and fell face first in manzanita. Good times. About halfway up the mountain I noticed that I had lost my brand new pocket knife. I had it strapped to my pants (not exactly the ideal place for a god damn pocket knife) and I guess that in the wacky scramble it flew off somewhere. Most likely in the bushes...never to be seen again. Oh well. It was my gift to the mountain. 

After what seemed like years I finally topped out on the bald summit. The views on this day were good. No clouds. No fog. Nice visibility. A good view. But I didn't climb it for the view. I climbed it to be humbled. With aching legs and torn skin and ripped clothing and knife lost and head spinning I definitely got what I wished for. 

View East. Thorn Point in the immediate foreground 

Piedra Blanca is wayyy down there 

View West

Not too many people have signed that recherché register. A lot of them consisted of repeat ascenders. The last guy to summit had done so just 24 days before me. I guess that's why the faint trail through the brush was in such great condition. Before that, the last visit took place in 2019. Before that was 2016 and before that 2013. Not a very popular destination this one. Seldom visited indeed. 

The Cedar Peak Register

After soaking in the moment for a few minutes I began the sketchy decent back down to Pine Mountain Lodge. The search for my lost knife on the way back down was unsuccessful. Finding that thing would be next to impossible. It could literally be anywhere. A genuine needle in a haystack scenario. 

Some of the cool rock formations near PML

Back at Pine Mountain Lodge I conked out underneath a pine tree and took my first long break of the day. I was beat. I had also grossly underestimated how much water I needed for a trip such as this. I drank the last few drops sitting under that tree, hoping that the punishing downhill would spare me from dehydration. There is a creek that flows through the campground, but I didn't wanna risk gettin' no stomach bug. I probably would've been fine, but with my luck, better safe than sorry you know?

Next time: Pants

After relaxing in the shade for a bit I finally willed myself to get up and get trucking. After poking my head around here and there I stumbled upon another amazing find: a hidden geocache. It was full of stickers and a pocket sized wine tasting guidebook. This was unexpected. I had absolutely no clue that this thing was up here and stumbled upon it by pure chance. There were even less signatures in this thing than the summit register for Cedar Peak, which was surprising given that it wasn't in a super hidden location.

After signing my name in this delightful find I languidly made my way back down to the parking lot. By now the sun was full and bright, laying waste to the arid country below. Even though it was all downhill, I was exasperated, the trail seemingly going on and on and on forever and ever. I just never seemed to get any closer to that damn parking lot. But I new it wasn't that far so I just kept movin' along, putting one foot in front of the other, humming indiscriminate tunes and taking photos to pass the time. 

A long way for a moisterless soul 

I stopped a few times to soak in the creek. As much as I wanted to drink that crisp, cool and clear water I resisted, knowing that with my luck I'd probably end up bedridden with giardiasis. But it was refreshing so I counted my blessings and kept moving' forward. Once I made it to the Piedra Blanca rock formations I knew I was in the home stretch. I trotted the rest of the way out, tripping on a root near the junction to the Sespe River trailhead. That was the fourth time that day that my face ate the ground. But I didn't care. I was almost there! Back at the parking lot I finally relaxed, knowing that the ordeal was over. I had spent pretty much the entire day completely alone; only seeing four people on my way back down the mountain. Some were heading to the rock formations while the others moved down the Sespe. It was a great day in the mountains. A little bit of joy, a good amount of pain, and a whole lot of peace and quiet. A marvelous day. One for the memory books.

As for my knife, well...last month me and a friend went back to go looking for it. It had almost been a year since I lost it and well...that's a story for another time :)