Lost In The River Bottom

It was nautical twilight. We were headin' down the road, driving approximately 4mph over the speed limit. Up ahead stood a glimmering stop sign. 

"Wow," said Angelo, "You actually came to a complete stop." 

"What do you mean?" said Jakob.

"You actually came to a complete stop. People don't really do that very often."

"Ok," shrugged Jakob, his eyes still fixed to the road.

The encroaching shadows of night were swallowing up the last remaining beams of the sun. It was dark. Real dark. There was no moon. At least not yet. I assumed that it was either stuck in some sort of cosmic traffic jam or that it had been out late partyin' it up with the other moons and had slept through its alarm. Probably snorted too much stardust and danced it up with Io and Europa and Mimas and Titan on the interstellar disco floor. Boy, do those moons sure know how to break it down. 

In a matter of moments we had arrived at our destination: The River Bottom. We had decided that since it was such a lovely evening we would take a nice stroll. This wasn't the main plan of course. Jakob was wearing shorts and flip-flops—the ideal uniform to wear when playing a wonderful game of pool. But since the pool table was closed we decided to head just down the street a little ways for a delightful nighttime saunter into the local wilds. 

As we made our way down into the labyrinth of trails Angelo pitched a wonderful idea,

"Yo, we should try to get lost."

"Why" said I.

"Cause it would be cool."

"I'm down with that" said Jakob"

"Me too" said I. 

A novelty such as this was too tempting to pass. Getting lost? On purpose? Hell yeah! It would be pretty simple. The River Bottom is full of twists and turns and trails that run in every direction. Some are closed and unmaintained and lead you to nothing at all, simply dumping you in the middle of nowhere. On a moonless night, with only the lights from our phones to guide us, getting lost on purpose would be a real easy feat. Finding our way back however...well...

I led the way, making left after left after left, each left being the beginning of a new path. I figured that the more lefts that I took the more likely I was to forget how many rights I would need to take on the way back. But no matter. I wasn't counting anyway.

We eventually stumbled upon the desiccated, sun-baked river bed. It was bone dry. We left the trail for a little ways, tripping over rocks and plants and stuff until we decided to take a lil' break. We turned off our phone flashlights. We looked up at the stars. Off in the distance, we could see Io and Europa and Mimas and Titan still dancin' it up. Venus and Mars looked on in contempt. Jupiter was taking pictures. And Saturn was off by itself, floating alone in an empty corner of space, hula-hooping to the sound of silence. 

"Wow" said Jakob, "There are so many stars out tonight."

"It's all just a blanket with holes in it" joked Angelo, "stars aren't real."

"Neither are birds," said I. "They're just government surveillance drones. Why do you think the hang out on power lines all the time? They're re-chargin.'"

Once we were done taking in the beauty of the heavens we began our heroic quest back to the parking lot. It was a frustrating task. We got lost almost immediately. And lookin' back it it now, since I was leading the way—I take full responsibility as the one who got us very, very lost. I take all the credit. If it weren't for me, we would have probably been back at the car in no time. Probably. Gettin' lost is a universal skill that inhabits all individuals. It doesn't discriminate. Jakob can get lost. Angelo can get lost. You can get lost. Everyone can get lost. So if you're ever feelin' down and out, sulkin' around and feelin' sorry for yourself, feelin' like you're a big failure and that you're utterly worthless, ALWAYS remember this: A kidney goes for about $262,000 on the black market. Sell yours, take the cash, and get lost!

The trail that we were following was becoming harder and harder to follow. We walked through many thickets. Walked through a lot of tall grass. Walked through bush after bush after bush. Eventually, Jakob and Angelo decided to leave the trail to follow a dry creek bed. I continued on alone, believing that we were actually really close to the parkin' lot. We weren't. I couldn't have been more wrong. I found myself huggin' the huge cliff wall that rises up and out of the River Bottom. There were no trails, no paths, no nothing. I backed up a ways, listening for a vehicle to pass by. There were none. "Whelp," I thought, "I guess I'll have to go back and tell 'em the bad news.

Finding them wasn't too hard. I just followed the sounds of their voices and the only two bobbing orbs of light in the entire River Bottom. Easy-peasy. When I caught up to them, they seemed deflated. 

"So you didn't find the way out either" said Angelo. 

"Nope" said I.

"Oh well, lets keep movin'."

I started jogging ahead. I had to be the leader you know? I got us lost, I had to get us found. That's how it works. We were approaching a narrow section of the creek. Walls of brushed choked the sides, with one branch of a lone sycamore tree making a sort of arch over the creek bed. I lost my footing, stumbled, nearly falling flat on my face. I steadied myself and turned around. 

"Holy SH*T" said Angelo. "DUDE!"

"What" said I.

"THAT THING IS F*CKIN" HUGE, HELL THE F*CK NO!"

If I had fallen just a little more to my left I would have fallen face-first into a huge web. It took up about a third of the arch, some of the strings stretching all the way to the ground. There were two big ol' spooky spiders in this web, just mindin' there own business. One was considerably larger than the other. I guess they knew each other. I hadn't noticed them. My phone light only reached so far. But I'm sure glad I never introduced myself to them spiders. I don't think they would have appreciated my presence.

Making sure to avoid the web, we continued down the creek bed, even though we knew that it was probably not gonna take us anywhere civilized. What finally made us turn around wasn't no spider or animal or creepy-crawly. It was a trail. A trail that led to something very interesting. We had thought that we had finally found the main trail, our ticket out of this labyrinth of confusion. We followed it to a hollowed out bush. This trail did not go to the parking lot. Instead, it led us to this weird place, a place that was full of stick figurines and symbols and markings and what have you. Witchcraft? Satanism? Modern art? We didn't wanna find out. We got outta there real quick. 

After what seemed like hours (even though it had only been like 35 minutes since we first started this silly adventure) we somehow managed to find a way out. It was a big trail, well trodden, well marked. It looked very familiar. We stuck to it. We were relieved.

Just as we began the short climb back up to the parkin' lot, Jakob pointed towards a shadow on the ground. We all gathered around, staring at it with a mixture of fascination and horror. It was a scorpion. He was chillin'. Not botherin' no one.  But if he was there that means that there were more out there. In the thickets. In the tall grass. In the bush after bush after bush that we travelled through. And Jakob was wearing flip-flops. But no worries. Flip-flops are great for pool and repelling scorpions. Doesn't everyone know that? Ha-ha. 

We made it back to the parkin' lot. Back to the car. We had had enough for one night. Off and away we went, making complete stop after complete stop, the hungover moon washing the car with its bilious light. 

It had finally shown up after all!

Mt Pinos to Piedra Blanca

  

This past April was pretty busy so I didn't really get the chance to go on many adventures. Lots of school, lots of catchin' up to do. So it was with great luck that during the week of the 6th everyone's schedules aligned, leaving the opportunity for a nice break from the tedium and humdrum of civilization. And what better way is there to take a nice break from it all by spendin' a few nights in the local backcountry? Our little excursion into the wilds offered a nice little re-charge before the busiest part of the year. On this trip me and the fam traversed through some of the most beautiful country the Los Padres has to offer. Four days of travel. Four days of pictures. Four days of walking, walking, walking. Consequently, this post would be quite long if I were to describe everything that occurred within these four days so I'll try to keep it as brief as possible. Plus I'm still a little puckered out from writin' paper after paper, essay after essay and such so I apologize if my writing is a little lethargic. 

Near Mt Pinos Summit

Starting early on a Wednesday morning we drove up Highway 33 to Mt Pinos Rd where we donned our packs and began our adventure to Piedra Blanca. At 8,600+ft, the weather was perfect; we were feeling none of the effects of the heatwave that were tormenting those at lower elevations. We arrived at the beginning of the trailhead around 10:30am, taking in the scenic panoramic views. 

The San Emigdio Mountains offer some of the best views in the Los Padres. On a good day, you can make out the Sierras to the north and Soda Lake on the Carrizo Plain to the northwest. About a hundred feet down the Tumamait trail we got a good view of what we would have to walk, and boy did it look far. Across a vast expanse of a parched lookin' valley stretching from one end of our vision to the next rose  Pine Mountain Ridge. It just seemed so far away, like it would take us weeks to get there. Oh well. Puttin' one foot in front of the other would get us there soon enough. 

View Towards Carrizo Plain

View North

 Post-holin' on them switchbacks 

Making our way down the trail was fun and fast until we hit some patches of snow. Some post-holing was required to get through these sections. And some falling. But none of it hurt too bad cause when we fell we were fallin' on snow instead of pointy rocks or cactus or a bed full of nails or a vat of acid or something like that. Always gotta look at the upside, you know?

Once we reached the saddle in between Mt Pinos and Sawmill Mountain we were treated with a quiet landscape covered with pines and firs. Up and down and up and down we went, traversing through this peaceful landscape until we came across our first major stop of the day: Sheep Camp

Walkin' through the pines

Sheep Camp

The camp was spacious and clean, and by clean I mean it wasn't overgrown with brush. The spring had a nice and consistent trickle, but since we had pretty much just started our journey there was no need to refill. Instead, we took our lunches over to a small outcropping of rock just south of the camp and ate our fill whilst taking in the incredible views.

After lunch we packed up our things and began the hellish decent down to Lilly Meadows. The trail that leads from Sheep Camp to Lilly Meadows was a little hard to find at first, but once we figured it out it was super easy to follow the entire way down. And wow, wow, wow. This thing is down. There's some serious incline on this trail with hardly any switchbacks. It's just down, down, down. Sheep Camp is at 8,221ft. Lilly Meadows at 6,610ft. Less than three miles separate the two. All I'm saying is that if you decide to hike this thing from the bottom up...well...good luck to you.

The descent 

Luckily this downhill can be forgiving at times. After we had hiked down the steepest portion of the trail we were treated to fairly level ground for most of the rest of the way to Lilly Meadows. The section of forest there was some of the prettiest I've seen in the Los Padres. It was kind of like the high country on the Tumamait trail, the only difference was that there were more types of foliage. It just seemed richer is all. More "foresty" if that makes sense. 

Day one ended with a pleasant evening around the fire in one of the campsites in Lilly Meadows. Had the whole place to ourselves; not a single soul was up there except for us. There was no water in the creek bed adjacent to the camp so we had to travel a little ways down the trail to find some. About a quarter of a mile down the trail we spotted some running water. It was barely flowing. But it was cold and it was good and here I am writing this right now so it must of been parasite free! 

Also, when using urine to put out a fire, make sure to check the wind before doing so. We learned this the hard way. Lots of stinky smoke in that tent. No bueno. 

Sunset in Lilly Meadows

Day two involved lots and lots of walking. Morning in Lilly Meadows was pretty cold so we were quick to get our move on. As we maneuvered our way down towards the Boy Scout Camp we took notice of the drastic change in scenery. In one moment we were in a cool and vibrant forest of pine and in the next we were in a dry and thirsty lookin' landscape of hardy pinyon trees and weird rock formations and spiky bushes and dust and dirt. But it ain't all what it seems. Hidden in this desiccated land is a magnificent oasis: the North Fork Falls. We made sure to stop by to take pictures and top off on our water supply. 

If you're comin' up from the Boy Scout Camp the falls would be an excellent destination. They ain't too far up the trail and they're pretty big. After taking a quick break, we left the falls and made our way down to the road where our shuttle was waiting. Yeah...we kind of cheated a little bit. But the shuttle only cut like four miles out of the entire trip; those four miles taking place entirely on pavement. Nonetheless, even with the shuttle we were lookin' at a 13+ mile day...so we were very grateful. 

North Fork Falls

Fillin' up

Boy Scout Camp

Shuttle

After the shuttle dropped us off at the gated Grade Valley Rd we began the long and mostly shadeless walk to the Cedar Creek Trailhead. Road miles are easy miles, and lucky for us these miles were mostly downhill. But the fact still remained that we had to walk these miles. And, as it turns out, walkin' for hours and hours on end with a heavy pack in the sun is super tiring. Lots of breaks ensued, some longer than others. A nice lunch off the side of the road in the shade helped us re-fuel our energy tubes and gave us some much needed strength and motivation to continue forwards into wilds. 

Lunch Break

A lot of road left to go

After a few refreshing creek crossings (and a nice bathroom break on an actual toilet at the Fishbowls Trailhead parking lot) we began the last section of the day. By this point we were pretty spent. The Cedar Creek Trail was very challenging for us, even though it's very agreeable and not difficult at all in the first few miles. It just seemed to keep going and going and going...even though it really wasn't. With achin' legs and achin' joints and achin' shoulders and achin' muscles it can be hard to just put your head down and keep truckin' along. You look forward, observing the meandering trail, and tell yourself, "surely the camp is around that corner" or "we have to be gettin' close by now." You set yourself up for failure every time you do that because, to tell you the truth, the camp is never gonna be around that corner if you simply feel like it is. You just gotta go with the flow until you stumble upon the camp and then go, "Wow, here it is! Glad we made it." Being young and full of energy might possibly help but I ain't gonna get  into that right now!

Creek crossing #1

Creek crossing #2

Cedar Creek Trail

The sight of Cedar Creek Camp was a welcome one. After our long day we were pleased to see that the camp had ample shade and a nice flowing creek nearby. We dunked in the surprisingly frigid creek, easing the ache out of our sore legs. Cedar Creek Camp, like Lilly Meadows, was totally devoid of people. Once again, we were the only people there. In fact, we hadn't seen a single person yet (except for a rancher driving a truck up the road from Mutau). All the better for us! Another night full of peace and quiet capped off a long and challenging day. 

Cedar Creek Camp

Day three was supposed to be our easiest day. Our destination, Pine Mountain Lodge, was only 4 miles away. We packed up our things, said our goodbyes to the beautiful camp, and made our way up the first of many switchbacks.

Hey look! Thorn Point!

The going was easy. The trail had ample shade, and the incline wasn't too terrible. The heat was somewhat bothersome, but not unbearable. As we made our way past the junction to the Fishbowls Trailhead we were transported back up into the high country. Here, we were treated with several sweeping views of the surrounding landscape. We passed by many interesting sandstone formations, some of which were full of fossils. There was a slight breeze coming from the West, creating a comforting "whooshing" noise as it meandered through the pines. I've said it once and I'll say it again: the wilderness in this part of the forest is truly one of the most beautiful places that I have ever seen. It's isolated, quiet, and offers boundless opportunities for exploration. Should you decide to venture up there, please be sure to treat it with respect. It's one of those places that commands the utmost deference. 

Cedar Peak

We stopped somewhere near the top of the ridge for a nice long lunch break. From our vantage point we could see where we started wayyy off in the distance. It's always nice to see progress being made. It's a big mental boost. Very motivational. As for our destination, well, we were almost there—about a mile and a half to go. For us youngins, the trail so far had been very enjoyable and easy despite the elevation gain. But for the older folk, the combination of the elevation and heat was proving to be quite onerous. We decided to split up, us youngins takin' some of the supplies and pushin' forward to camp while the elders took there time, traveling at their own comfortable pace. 

Where we started

Lots of neat rock formations

After an hour of relaxing in the shade the elders finally caught up to us and we set up camp. With a few hours of daylight still left, us youngins decided to explore the surrounding rock formations. We hopped from one formation to the next, totally giddy with excitement. It was like being a kid at the playground again, and a weird feeling of nostalgia washing through us. After dinner we convinced the elders to join us in a little hike up to one of the coolest formations we found. Once there, we watched as the setting sun cast its dying rays of pink and purple upon the valley. It was an incredible way to cap off our last night on the trail. And, once more, we had the whole place to ourselves. It was becoming the theme of this trip: seclusion

Final Camp

The Youngins

The final day of an adventure is always bittersweet. One the one hand you wish you could stay just one more day, while on the other you really just wanna sleep in your own comfy bed. Our final day was no different. We woke early, packed up our things one last time, and ventured down the Gene Marshall Trail. We could tell it was gonna be a hot one today; the morning air was lukewarm and the breeze, tepid. When we made it to Twin Forks Camp the heat was already becoming more than just bothersome; ergo, we enjoyed a nice long 2 hour break in the shade, listening to the creek and the wind in the trees. 

Approaching the downhill to Piedra Blanca

As we were resting we came across the first people we had seen during our entire trip. And after we got up and started truckin' we came across a group of eight or nine people; all of them making their way up to PML. Why they would want to climb all the way up there on a hot day like that was unknown. All that I did know was that they smelled wonderful. After spending a few days in the woods, the scents of Axe Body Spray and Old Spice and Hugo Boss and Chanel and body wash and Dove soap and shampoo and general cleanliness really stood out to us. And as we continued our way down towards the parking lot, we encountered even more people. Piedra Blanca Camp was full of tents, and, a little ways down the trail, we came across a tired looking woman and her tired looking group who were enquiring whether or not Piedra Blanca Camp even existed. Wow. A lot of tourists up there that day. But we were tourists too so I can't complain. It would be hypocritical, you know?

Nearly there...

Encountering all of these people near the very end of our trip was a little overwhelming, but expected. The Sespe is a pretty popular destination for locals and outsiders alike, and on a hot day like that the water was probably a highly sought-after objective. When we made it to the parking lot our delightful expedition had finally come to an end. All in all, we had walked something like thirty-three miles or something like that. Not too far, but definitely far enough to be interesting. It was a welcome escape from the pandemonium of everyday life. Definitely one for the memory books.