Flashback: Old Man Mountain

 11/26/22

The allure of this mountain's twin summits has tempted my thirst for exploration for many years now. They look interesting, you know? Kind of like Chief Peak's rocky summit. And at 5,538ft, Old Man Mountain is practically the same height as Chief Peak. And Chief Peak, as I've learned through the years, is a super awesome mountain. So on the morning of the 26th, no longer able to quiet my desire to meet Old Man Mountain, I packed the bag, called a friend, and set off to see what it was all about. 

The parking lot at the end of Matilija Canyon road was almost full. This was because of the gigantic muddy puddle in the middle of the lot. It was causing some distress for a lot of people. Why? Don't know. Some people just don't like muddy puddles I guess. We breezed through the first section of the road and then made a hard left up towards the Murietta Divide. This is where the climbing began. It's up, up, up. And thanks to the Thomas fire, there's practically no shade the whole way up. Hiking this steep road in the summer would be "fun" no doubt...

On the way to the divide, a little ways past the pleasant Murietta Spring, we made acquaintance with the first people we'd seen all day. I guess everyone else was going to the popular Matilija Falls. After we made introductions, they asked us, to our surprise, how much farther it was to the falls. We told them that there were no falls up this way. Told them that they made a crucial wrong turn a long ways back. Oh well. Next time maybe they'll bring a map. 

Once we got to the divide we took a little breather and then made a hard right and began the long slog to the summit. The road was in great shape; it almost appeared as if somebody had recently driven a truck on it or something. It was very easy to follow with minimal brush.

Dang Mylar Balloons!

A little ways past what I guess is known as "Devarté Peak" was a large grouping of curious rock formations. Neither of us were expecting to find formations such as these in a place such as this. They looked akin to those formations near Pine Mountain Lodge or those on the Mishe Mokwa trail in the Santa Monica Mountains. It was a strange surprise, but a welcome one for sure. It would be worthwhile to go up there on another day to explore those formations. Who knows what wonders await!

One of the interesting formations

Matilija Canyon and Nordhoff Ridge

The road to the base of the summit was long, hot and dry with lots of gains and losses in elevation. Many a time I found myself wishing I had a mountain bike. It would've been a lot easier than walking. Especially for the way back; I could already tell that it would be a knee-basher. Nonetheless, through the basic act of putting one foot in front of the other, we finally made it to the base of the southern summit. This peak is the shorter of the two, but from the parking lot it looked really cool so you know we just had to climb it. We left the road and started off trailin' it to a small saddle where we decided to take a snack break. 

Shirt and Tie Adventures 

Our Route

Climbing the southern peak turned out to be easier than expected. The brush was minimal, the footing secure, and the wind—good-humored. We scrambled up there in no time. The summit was a little blustery, and had a serious drop off on its northern edge. It was rocky, barren and steep, and it had a big long wire sticking out of the tippy-top. Beneath this wire was a spattering of bird crap. And near the bird crap, a piece of a tin can lid that had markings on it dating back to the 60's. 

Summit of "Vulture Peak"

Near this ancient lid we found the teeny-tiny register that had been there since 1999. If Creampuff Peak has the largest register, this one definitely has the smallest. The whole thing was shorter than my hand for cryin' out loud. It was completely full, but this was expected given its small size. We also learned that what we were standing on had an unofficial name: "Vulture Peak." A very fitting name indeed. 

One down, one more to go. After saying our goodbyes to the very cool Vulture Peak, we moseyed on over towards our main objective. Climbing down the western side of the peak proved interesting, but we made good time and before we knew it we were between the two peaks. This space proved to be my favorite part of the day. There was something fascinating about gazing out into the abyss of Old Man Canyon and beyond whilst being sandwiched between two gargantuan pyramids of rock and brush. I felt small, very small, and without another sound except for the crunching of our steps, this space between the rocks offered immense quietude. Here was a place of solitude, a place of tranquility, a place where you could disappear for a bit and forget all of your troubles. 

The last push to the summit was like climbing up a slightly brushy ramp. It was sure easier than Vulture Peak, I can tell you that. The summit of Old Man Mountain isn't as pointy as Vulture, thus it provided us with ample space to stretch our legs and lay around and relax for a minute. Lunch on the summit consisted of a loaf of bread and jerky. 

View from the summit

The views from up there were, to put it simply, the absolute best I've ever seen on any Los Padres Peak. And I'll stand by that statement any time, any day. It was crystal clear that day; the conditions couldn't have been better. We could see forever; had a seemingly bird's-eye view of the entire surrounding area. We could even see Mt. San Antonio wayyy down off yonder. Wasn't expecting to see ol' Baldy that morning in the parking lot. But there we were, on the summit of Old Man Mountain, staring right at it. The summit register contained a paper that listed some of the surrounding landmarks. We could see every landmark listed on that paper. That's how clear it was. And the ocean lay sprawled as an immense plain of piercing blue, contrasted by the subdued green of the rugged mountains. Here and there in some of the canyons was a smattering of color: reds and yellows and oranges. Tiny little blobs of color in a vast ocean of green. It was a sight to behold. When I inevitably return to this summit, I will likely never see the land with such clearness and clarity again. We took it in as much as we could; sights like these are few and far between.

Anacapa and Santa Cruz

SC, Santa Rosa, and San Miguel

Jameson Lake and Fall Colors

The SLP

We could see everything listed on this paper!

After we said our last goodbyes to the summit we began the long descent. Instead of climbing back up and over Vulture Peak we decided to skirt on down between the two peaks, westward, back towards the road. And once we hit the road we put our heads down and started truckin' on out of there. Road miles are easy miles, but there's just something about them that makes them extremely unpleasant. Truckin' on out of there is the only remedy that I can think of that makes road miles more tolerable. 

Twin Summits

Fall Colors in Murietta Canyon

We passed the rock formations, hit the divide and then bashed our knees down the steep grade into Murietta Canyon. Once we reached the bottom, it was easy street all the way back to the parking lot. There were less cars than before and the mud puddle was still there, and it was still causing grief. Some bozo thought it was a good idea to bring their Mercedes Benz to that parking lot. They got stuck in the mud puddle, their tires digging deeper and deeper into the mud each time they tried to escape. With great effort, and with some help from a few good samaritans, they were able to escape that dreadful mud puddle. Thank goodness for that, haha. I hope they learned their lesson. 

Old Man Mountain was a good one. We felt like old men ourselves after climbing it. Lots of pain in the joints and whatnot. One of these days I'd like to venture up there again. It would be interesting to see the condition of that road after all of these storms. As of late I haven't been doin' much. But when the forest opens on March 13th you can bet that I'll be there, bumblin' around and dressed to impress.