Hadn't been to Willett since April of 2021 so it was high time for a return. I left on the morning of the 10th, bound for the newly reopened Highway 33. Three solar powered traffic lights later and I was sitting in the Sespe trailhead parking lot, putting on the layers and preparing for the long walk ahead. The car thermostat read a balmy 31 degrees Fahrenheit, but when I stepped outside it felt much colder. There was frost on the ground and a slight breeze that stung my face. Though the sun had risen it hadn't crested the ridge of the valley. Looks like I was in for a frigid morning walk.
There was only one other vehicle in the parking lot. I started down the trail, the frozen ground crunching beneath my feet. The creek crossings were not bad and I breezed my way towards the wilderness boundary. It was a quiet morning, with no signs of any animal activity. No birds, no critters, no nothing. Just that ever present slight breeze and the sound of my own breathing.
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| Frozen ground |
Pretty soon after I passed the wilderness boundary the sun crested the valley ridge, bathing the surrounding country with blessed warmth. I took off a few layers and continued along the trail, heading towards the next checkpoint: Bear Creek. So far, the trail had not changed much from how I remembered it. The small burn area just past the wilderness boundary had already grown back quite a bit. Aside from some minimally brushy sections, the trail was practically good as new.
The same cannot be said for Bear Creek. The Sespe completely steamrolled through the camp during the January storms last year, erasing the established campgrounds from existence and littering the side of the creek bed with some debris. The sun hadn't quite reached the camp when I arrived; the ground was frozen and covered with frost. I found one camp spot near the creek crossing that looked to have been recently spruced up, a rock ringed fire pit marking the spot. As for the creek crossing I was unable to find a way across that would keep my feet dry. Man oh my that water was cold. Even with shoes and socks on it felt like someone was sticking needles in my feet.
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| Cold crossing at Bear Creek |
A little ways after passing Bear Creek and just before reaching Kerr Spring I came upon the slide. It's gigantic—looks like half the hill slid into the Sespe. The slide took out a large section of the trail, leaving a jumbled mess in its wake. A use trail weaves its way through the slide. It's easy to follow but definitely needs some work. Lucky for me, sections that would usually be muddy and slippery were completely frozen. Small streams that would normally be leaking out of the hillside were frozen solid as well, appearing as white streaks against the red and brown backdrop of the slide.
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| The slide |
Once I surpassed the slide area the trail became slightly harder to follow. And by slightly harder to follow I mean a little more brushy. Brushy enough that in some parts somebody thought it was necessary to mark the trail with pink tape. Having not been properly maintained in over a year, the wilderness has slowly reclaimed this once highly trafficked trail. It was honestly refreshing to see it in this condition. The trail just felt different. Had a different vibe and everything. Felt a whole lot more peaceful and secluded. I didn't think it needed the pink tape however. Seemed like overkill. Though there was slightly more brush than usual it was still very obvious where the trail was and I had no difficulty following it to the next crossing.
I kept on truckin' along, mile after mile passing under my feet. A certain, thorny, spiky, thistly plant dotted the sides of the trail in some parts, averaging in height anywhere between ankle and stomach level. I'm not too sure what this plant is (maybe star thistle?) but it poked through my pants and scratched up my hands a good deal. I remember walking through some of it a few years ago on a Sespe jaunt, but that was off trail and the plant was only shin high. Looks like it's spread since then, overtaking the trail in some parts and completely unavoidable.
I breezed past Kimball Canyon and Oak Flat, the latter of which looked to be in good condition from afar. Upon closer inspection I was amazed to discover that one of the campsites along the side of the Sespe had actually survived the storms (that or somebody built it anew). There were also excellent swim holes near the camp, swim holes that I don't remember being there previously. After passing Oak Flat I noticed that there were less shoe tracks in the dirt. I trucked on, brushing through the grass and purple sage and that annoying thistly plant.
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| Oak Flat |
I eventually made it to the junction where I would leave the trail and head for the hot springs. I stuck to the use trail that I followed in 2021, trying to remember little details that would make my life easier. The campground that used to be there (Thacher Camp?) was mostly destroyed during the storms; nearly all of the primitive campsites had been washed away. I stayed to the side of the creek, the use trail disappearing into fairly thick riparian brush. Not finding a way across via rock hopping, I continued along the side, making my way to a muddy embankment where I could cross without getting my feet wet again. But as fate would have it, I ended up slipping in the mud and falling nearly up to my waist in the frigid waters. If I wasn't awake before, I was surely awake now. Boy, after that plunge I discovered a new energy deep within that I didn't know I had. I scurried across the creek, made it to the other side, and made a beeline to the thicket of trees near Willett Camp.
Once at the thicket of trees I again managed to somehow slip in the mud, only this time I fell ankle deep in a stagnant muddy pool. Either I'm gettin' clumsy or I need knew shoes (it's probably the former). I discovered some footprints in the mud and followed them to the spur trail that goes up to the Hot Springs. Once on that spur trail, it was smooth sailing the rest of the way.
On my way up to the hot springs I couldn't help but wonder if the tub was still there. Ever since last year's January storms I've wondered if it was spared or completely destroyed. I hoped it wasn't destroyed. With the cold air and my unplanned polar plunge, soaking in a hot tub was something I wanted desperately.
And lo and behold, there it was—and emerald jewel glistening in the sun. Man, those hot springs have never looked so inviting. They were pristine; the water was clear, the tub empty (save for one big rock in the corner), with nobody around for miles and miles. It was apparent that some awesome person had cleaned up the place, clearing some debris around the sides of the tub, rebuilding the feed pipe and scrubbing the floor with a wooden brush. A skinny tree, somehow still clinging to existence after surviving a slide, was bending over the middle of the tub, a bird's nest tucked between its branches.
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| Bird's nest |
I spent a good hour there sitting in the tub, listening to the water and watching the steam evaporate into the sky. Definitely going back there; the tub is still in need of maintenance. What could be cleared by hand has already been cleared, so I'll have to bring in some tools to remove the bigger stuff. The walls of the tub are caving in slightly, and I fear that if any more debris comes crashing down during a storm they wouldn't be able to stand the pressure.
After a nice lunch and one more soak, I packed up my things and begrudgingly began my way back down to the Sespe.
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| Headin' back |
I managed to get across the creek without issue this time. Once on the main trail, I waved goodbye to Willett and began the long walk back to the parking lot. Along the way, I thought of properly exploring Oak Flat but then decided against it. Then I thought about hitting up ol' Timber Canyon but decided not to do that either. I was lookin' at a near 20 mile day and since I ain't done that kind of mileage in a while I thought it best to save the exploring for later and save my legs from unnecessary soreness.
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| Cool Fossils |
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| More Cool Fossils |
The way back went by quicker than the way out. There were some shady sections of trail that never got thawed out. Parts of the slide area were still frozen when I returned. Bear Creek was just as cold crossing it the second time as it was the first. And I had the whole trail to myself, which was kinda surreal. Every time I've walked that trail there's always somebody. I either see 'em hiking on the trail or camped in one of the many backcountry campgrounds. I hadn't seen a single soul the whole day long, something that I'll likely never experience again. It was really, really weird...but in a good way, you know?
Just before I reached the parking lot I met the first people I'd seen all day— a couple who were heading down to that big swim hole near the old Lions campground. Once in the parking lot I immediately noticed that there were more cars but not much; including mine and the truck from that morning there were six in total. Where those other people were I do not know as I didn't see nobody until just before the parking lot. Perhaps they were all partying it up at Piedra Blanca. Regardless, it was great seeing Willett again after so many years and I'm grateful for the person who cleaned it up. It was great being back out there and now that the 33's open I'll try and make a habit of going up into the local woods more often.
