Tamarisk, Nordhoff Peak and Chorro Spring: February 2, 4 and 7, 2014.

To repeat the refrain from my last several posts, I arrived in California in the morning of Saturday, November 1 with a primary purpose other than gathering content, to affect the parlance of the Web, for the Los Padres Expatriate Hiker. But that did not preclude opportunistic purpose-divergence and indulgence in some time in the hills. I was situated in Ojai after all, and, as one of my grand nieces might say, the forest is “just, like, over there.”

Tamarisk

I had nothing I needed to do Sunday, February 2, 2014 and, as so often happens, hiking guide author, forest steward and scout master Craig had a service excursion planned and invited me tag along. Bless his expansive heart, Craig has consistently and generously endeavored to help me get my neurons firing in a coherent manner during these flash trips to California. He is a man undaunted by a challenge.

The object of the service day was removal of invasive tamarisk from a tributary of the Sespe River. I’ll not say much about the project as I am not at all qualified to speak to the natural history of tamarisk in the Los Padres. But it was a dual-Zen day: pulling big weeds and framing photographs is an effective way of banishing non-productive mental wanderings.

Mary and Marcus bag a multi-point tamarisk, February 2, 2014.

Mary and Marcus bag a multi-point tamarisk, February 2, 2014.

An unnamed place along an unnamed tributary of the Sespe.

An unnamed place along an unnamed tributary of the Sespe, February 2, 2014.

Another unnamed place along an unnamed tributary of the Sespe, February 2, 2014.

Another unnamed place along an unnamed tributary of the Sespe, February 2, 2014.

Yet another unnamed place along an unnamed tributary of the Sespe, February 2, 2014.

Yet another unnamed place along an unnamed tributary of the Sespe, February 2, 2014.

Nordhoff Peak, Feburary 4, 2014:

Wherein I abandon my accrued wisdom concerning walking in the wild.

One ventures into the backcountry to find clarity and perspective, a topic eloquently examined by Los Padres adventurer and philosopher Jack Elliot. A corollary statement: One must leave behind other concerns and be focused in the pursuit of backcountry clarity and perspective. To abandon focus is to be foolish as will be exposed in the following narrative.

I discovered after a long day of having a long day that Tuesday, February 4, 2014 was commitment free. I was not in any way mentally available for a logistically complex undertaking but there was what I perceived to be a modicum of kismet at work. I needed a big hike test of my recently repaired left knee to confirm the successful modest trail stress test of November 2, 2014. Also, a cloudy day was predicted and I had long wanted shots from Nordhoff Peak with structured sky and dramatic cloud-filtered light. What could be a simpler way to accomplish both goals than a hike on the Pratt Trail to Nordhoff Peak? And what could be less fraught with complication than the short drive up Signal Street to the Stewart Canyon debris basin trail head when one is already located in Ojai? Voila; nothing to it.

December, 1984; a study in the optical physics of lens flare.

Nordhoff Peak, December, 1984; a study in the optical physics of lens flare.

In the morning of Tuesday, February 4, 2014, I mindlessly loaded my pack with photographic gear and a few bits of hiking paraphernalia and arrived at the Pratt trail head at 7:00 AM. I walked the route to Nordhoff Peak without removing my camera from the chest pack in which it rode. During the course of the hike my mind endlessly, fruitlessly, looped through a number of topics irrelevant to the purpose of the day. I was so imperceptive that I did not notice the spur trail to Valley View camp and had forgotten my intention to visit the location and perhaps take some pictures. “Oh well,” I thought, “I’ll stop on my way down.”

When I arrived on Nordhoff Peak, I had had the sky I had imagined. My mind did an immediate context shift to real-time photography mode. I set up the tripod, calibrated panoramic head and camera components for sweeping an arc east to west of the view of the Ojai Valley and the Pacific Ocean. The angle of the sun was such that the lighting problem was complex, given the wide dynamic range from ground shadow to sky highlight. I decided to attempt a high dynamic range panorama. Each frame of the panorama would be comprised of a tone-mapped composite of five shots ranging from +2 to -2 EV in one EV steps. I shot the panorama in two rows of 17 frames per row at 0 degrees and -15 degrees relative to the horizon. Thus, the panorama below is a merged and stitched composite of 170 individual photographs (click to see a larger version in a new window for all photos in this post).

Panorama from Nordhoff Peak of the Ojai Valley and Pacific Ocean, November 4, 2013.

Panorama from Nordhoff Peak of the Ojai Valley and Pacific Ocean, November 4, 2013.

I then set up a short distance north of the old Nordhoff lookout to get a panoramic view sweeping across the Sespe Wilderness and Pine Mountain. With the sun essentially to my back, the front-lit scene did not present the dynamic range challenge of the southerly panorama; hence, I chose not to use a high dynamic range strategy. The panorama again swept a very wide arc; the Topatopa bluff, which appears frame left in the first panorama can now be scene frame right.

Panorama from Nordhoff Peak sweeping the Sespe Wilderness and Pine Mountain, November 4, 2014.

Panorama from Nordhoff Peak sweeping the Sespe Wilderness and Pine Mountain, November 4, 2014.

I had to take the obligatory shots of the Topatopa bluff and the Nordhoff Peak lookout because that is what I do. To deny one’s identity, I have been told by acquaintances who think deeply on such topics, is to inflict some sort of psychic damage or something. I’m not sure I understand the reasoning but I’m not risking further psychic deficit. So I set up the tripod and kept potential psychic damage at bay.

Topatopa bluff from Nordhoff Peak, November 4, 2013

Topatopa bluff from Nordhoff Peak, November 4, 2013

Telephoto view of Topatopa Bluff from the approach to Nordhoff Peak, December, 1984

Telephoto view of Topatopa Bluff from Nordhoff Peak, December, 1984

Nordhoff Peak Lookout, November 4, 2014.

Nordhoff Peak Lookout, November 4, 2014.

nordhoff_peak_lookout_1984_2012 After the better part of three hours burning flash card space I began the return trek west along the Nordhoff ridge fire road toward the intersection with the Pratt trail. I bade farewell to the lookout from about one half mile west with a wide angle shot of that stalwart edifice framed between two skeletal trees.

Viewing the Nordhoff fire lookout from the west. February 4, 2014.

Viewing the Nordhoff fire lookout from the west. February 4, 2014.

As I approached the intersection with the Pratt trail, I became aware of a view of the Ojai Valley, Lake Casitas and the Pacific Ocean. In my state of distractedness, I had missed this obvious photographer’s fodder on the way up. I felt the scene required careful framing to do it justice, so I dropped my pack and set up the tripod with the leveling head and micrometer elevation clamp.

The Ojai Valley, Lake Casitas, Pacific Ocean, Anacapa Island and Santa Cruz Island, February 4, 2014.

The Ojai Valley, Lake Casitas, Pacific Ocean, Anacapa Island and Santa Cruz Island, February 4, 2014.

I reached the junction with the Pratt trail and noted the expansive view north. I was vaguely disturbed that this, too, had failed to make an impression when I had passed by on my way to Nordhoff Peak. Where was my head?  I would find out later, bear with me.

View north to Pine Mountain from Nordhoff ridge, February 4, 2014.

View north to Pine Mountain from Nordhoff ridge, February 4, 2014.

Once I finished exposing the 80 frames that would eventually be fused into the panorama, I descended the Pratt single track from the junction without noticing anything I can remember until I arrived at the junction with the spur to Valley View camp.

Water at Valley View camp, February 4, 2014.

A rarity during the extended drought conditions afflicting California: Water in the Southern Los Padres at Valley View camp, February 4, 2014.

I left Valley View camp and once back on the Pratt trail, my mind to returned to musing topics that have heft but were irrelevant in an immediate sense. I have no clear memory of exiting the Pratt single track. The mental claxons began howling when the dirt road route I was following terminated at a fence line with a prominent “No Trespassing” sign. Irrespective of my degree of inattentiveness, I knew this did not belong on the route back to the Pratt trail head.

Pratt trail sign, February 4, 2014

This is where things went to hell. I discovered this picture when I reviewed the raw camera files during the writing of this post. I do not remember taking this picture. In my distracted state I followed the route to 23W26 (Cozy Dell trail) rather than taking the hard left to follow the Pratt trail back to the Stewart Canyon debris basin. February 4, 2014.

What I had done is obvious to anyone who knows the route, and I do know the route; in fact, I had walked a large part of it trouble free as recently as March 20, 2013. However, I adamantly refused to believe I had made the error I had so clearly made. A short consultation with a simple trail map would have burned through the cognitive fog but I had had left the map behind (contemplate briefly that statement in all its wrongness). The GPS I was carrying to record tracks is useful for establishing a precise location in the context of a lager overview from a map, but the screen is simply too small for me, in many cases, to use the internal maps to get an overall sense of a route. This was such a case.

I began to backtrack but I had no idea how far I had come from the end of the Pratt single track. As I backtracked, I passed a junction with the Cozy Dell trail that pointed west, two miles, to Highway 33. So, I could always bail in that direction and call a reliable number in Ojai for a ride back to the Pratt trail head. But that is not what I wanted to do; I wanted to get back to my vehicle. Of course, this trail sign clue should have convinced me of the reality of what I had done; I know exactly where the Cozy Dell trail emerges on Highway 33.

At this point my phone alerted me to an incoming text message. I am not one given to speculation on metaphysical providence but the text was from the author of Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura. I hesitated briefly, then threw up my metaphorical hands and placed the call.

Craig requested a GPS coordinate and a general description of my location. While he digested this and took care of some other business I backtracked a bit further. I came to a point where the road headed sharply uphill northwest and a dozer cut diverged south and came to a dead end at a ridge overlook. From the overlook I confirmed that at least I properly knew my geographical orientation. The dirt road heading northwest was another clear indicator of my precise location but, given that I did not remember coming down that road, I decided to wait for the return call from Craig. It was too late to salvage any dignity.

That call arrived shortly and I chose to believe that Craig’s laughter was due to a great joke he had just heard on the radio. He had me head back toward the junction with the Cozy Dell trail (which I had already started to do) and alerted me to the junction heading east that was a short distance north of the Cozy Dell junction. I had not noticed this at all on my way down but it had vaguely registered when I backtracked. “Foothill trail” was clearly inscribed on the sign. Craig said something along the lines of “Do you think if you follow that trail 1.2 miles east good things will happen?”

I am not one given to gratuitous swearing (OK, that is a bit of poetic license; please bear with me) but my internal dialog was not appropriate for polite company. A phrase ran through my head in an endless loop: “head up the ass.” Following the Foothill trail 1.2 miles east would drop me back on the Pratt trail exactly where I know the Foothill trail intersects the Pratt trail from the west. From there it was a moderately short walk back to my vehicle. I finished the hike with head lamp illumination; darkness fell shortly after I regained the Pratt trail. I had remembered to bring my headlamp. 2014-02-04_pratt_track I had traveled, per my GPS, 16.7 miles that day with an elevation gain of 5,214 feet. My left knee was slightly stiff but free of pain and swelling. It appears the surgery of July 25, 2013 had passed a profound stress test. Beyond that, this story has no moral that requires articulation; the moral is in the telling.

Chorro Spring, February 7, 2014

I have previously described my long association with Sentinel Trees trees that flank the trail to Chorro Spring. Chorro Grande Trail Sentinel Trees, 1981 and 1984 I very much wanted to photograph the trees against a sky with light structured by clouds. A bright, blue sky is a wonderful thing, especially if one is experiencing another winter in the Lake Erie snow belt, but I did not want to photograph the trees under yet another blue sky. Chorro Sentinel Trees, August 18, 2011 There is a photographic principle, “chasing the light,” and, cliche though it might be, when cloudy skies were predicted for Ojai and environs on February 7, 2014, I hustled to clear my schedule with the intention of chasing the light on the Chorro Grande trail.

Early on Friday, February 7, 2014, I prepared for the 35 mile drive on Highway 33 from Ojai to the Chorro Grande trail head. Before I left I carefully determined, chastened as I was by my Nordhoff Peak fugue of February 4, that I was no longer experiencing a recto-cranial inversion. Assured that my head was not, in fact, embedded in my butt, I drove without drama to the trail head.

I ascended the trail easily as the cloud cover built and arrived at the trees with a rapidly shifting, but always interesting, cloud-structured sky. I spent a perfect two hours photographing the Sentinel Trees.

Chorro Grande Sentinel Trees, west view, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Grande Sentinel Trees, west view, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Grande Sentinel Trees, west view, February 7, 2014.-1

Chorro Grande Sentinel Trees, west view, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Grande Sentinel Trees, west view, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Grande Sentinel Trees, west view, February 7, 2014.

After bidding the trees farewell (I talk to them; so far, in 40+ years, they have not answered), I walked to Chorro Grande camp for lunch. The flow from the spring was weaker than I had ever seen, emblematic of the extended California drought.

Chorro Spring and Sign, 1984, 2011

The sign on the right used to be located just to the left of the rocks from which issued the spring.

Chorro Spring, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Spring, February 7, 2014.

After lunch, I hiked back to my rented Jeep Patriot parked in the familiar turnout just off Highway 33. Conditions for photography remained outstanding on the descent.

chorro_northwest_potrero_seco-1

View west from the east slope of Pine Mountain, February 7, 2014.

View west from the east slope of Pine Mountain, February 7, 2014.

View west from the east slope of Pine Mountain, February 7, 2014.

View west from the east slope of Pine Mountain, February 7, 2014.

Sespe Gorge from Chorro Grande Trail, 1981

View west from the Chorro Grande Trail, 1981.

Southwest view from the Chorro Grande trail near Oak Camp, February 7, 2014.

Southwest view from the Chorro Grande trail near Oak Camp, February 7, 2014.

 Chorro Grande trail west of Oak Camp, February 7, 2014.

This turn across a wash in the Chorro Grande trail west of Oak Camp ranks just below the Sentinel Trees and Chorro Spring as an enduring iconic landmark of the trail. View north, February 7, 2014.

 Chorro Grande trail west of Oak Camp, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Grande trail west of Oak Camp, February 7, 2014.

Chorro Grande trail head sign, February 7, 2014.

Start and end to the day: The Chorro Grande trail head sign, February 7, 2014. When I last hiked this trail, August 18, 2011 this sign was not present.

I reached Highway 33 without drama after an outstanding day with pack, camera, trees and spring in the Southern Los Padres. I did not have to chase the light; the light was with me.

Cuyama Peak and Salisbury Potrero: getting on with it. October 29, November 1 – 2, 2013

Getting on with it

A bit of review is in order, given the long intermission in the Los Padres Expatriate mission. From the last post in this outpouring of nonsense:

… In 1983 I tripped in, of all places, Sespe Creek near Willet after hiking over the Red Reef trail. I cracked my left knee hard and hiked out that day and the next via Red Reef with my knee making an odd grinding sound…

… Over the years the knee has flared and been treated with anti-inflammatories via one method of administration or another. Finally, thirty years later, it was clear the time had come for more serious remediation. The MRI showed a significant tear in the medial meniscus where only a tiny nick had appeared previously…

July 17, 2013 the orthopedic surgeon said to me “Normally we send people your age home and prescribe anti-inflammatories, rest and physical therapy and see if they can return to an acceptable activity level. Given your activity level this is likely not a useful choice for you. So, you will need to decide if we should move forward with surgical intervention so you can get back to your life style.”

My first inclination was to question the statement “people your age” but I decided to let it pass, as there was no hidden message besides the obvious and there was no point in vanity on my part. So I said, “let’s proceed with the surgery.” The surgeon immediately produced the consent form and asked if I would like to be up tomorrow. I countered with one week from tomorrow (which would be July 25, 2013) and we had a done deal.

On July 25, 2013 at 6:00 AM I was in the sports medicine surgery center with an IV plugged into my arm through which a bit of Versed had been pumped as a pre-anesthesia calming agent. I was transported into the surgical theater; first case of the day. A gowned, masked and gloved cast entered, none of whom I recognized in costume. One of the cast members spoke up; “Hi, it’s Brigit,” who was the surgeon’s excellent physician’s assistant. I found that bit of connection reassuring.

Directly, it seemed to me, after Brigit identified herself, I woke in an empty room. Shortly a nurse’s face impinged on my tunnel vision and asked, “How are you doing?” I answered with my immediate, burning question, “Where am I.” “In recovery,” she informed me. To which I replied, “Oh, well, I seem to be fine. I guess this heavy wrap on my left leg should have been a bit of a clue.” I have never had a reaction to anesthesia and I did, in fact, feel perfectly fit and rested. I came to the conclusion that the anesthesiologist crept up out of my field of view and pumped the sleeping potion in me without ceremony. Perhaps this is a common surgical field practical joke. I did, in fact, find myself amused by my now clearing confusion.

The surgeon stopped by shortly after I regained what wits I have. He informed me that 60% of the medial meniscus of my left me had been arthroscopically removed. The tear was deeper than what could be seen well on the MRI but not terribly bad in an absolute sense.

Medial mensicus

This is what 60% of the medial meniscus of my left knee looks like out of its native setting.

I was informed that, with proper rehabilitation, I could expect to return fully to doing what I do. One of the residents involved in my surgery asked if he could present my case at a ground rounds as the paradigmatic example of an instance in which a “person of my age” might appropriately be moved rapidly to knee surgery rather than an anti-inflammatory, rest and physical therapy regime. The Principle Investigator of the Meniscal Tear in Osteoarthritis Research (MeTeOR) Study, a massive, randomized controlled trial to compare arthroscopic partial meniscectomy (APM) with physical therapy alone, would be attending this grand rounds. I would be a correlative data point for discussion purposes.  I am always available to be a correlative data point for real science, so I gave my blessing. Then I asked, politely, if henceforth we could dispense with the “person of my age” verbiage.

Then began the physical rehabilitation process. Thousands of knee bends moved quickly to thousands of very lightly weighted and then lightly weighted squats. Easy rides on my road bike on a fluid trainer with the saddle set high became harder rides with the saddle set only slightly above standard position. Six weeks after surgery I rode back to back 35 mile days on the road. Ten weeks post-surgery I rode back to back 52 mile days on my standard loop course in Amish farm country.

Leaning on Edwin after a long bike ride in Amish Farm Country.

Leaning on Edwin after a long bike ride in Amish Farm Country.

At this point I felt I was as back to functional as I could determine without an actual trail test. Cycling on a road bike is not the same as hiking with a pack and photographic gear. My upcoming trip to Ojai had a built-in opportunity for an appropriately scaled stress test in the Southern Los Padres.

As has been the case for the last two years, I had business in California other than my “Los Padres Expatriate” project. Also as has often been the case, the good graces of the Los Padres raconteur, Southern Los Padres hiking guide author, and proprietor of craigrcarey.net provided me with opportunities to play “The Expat” with little logistical effort on my part.

The Cuyama Peak clean up and photography excursion

I had not been to Cuyama Peak for a visit with the old lookout since some time in the mid-1970s. The history of the lookout is well covered in a piece at craigrcarey.net and its current state of dissolution was documented first, to my knowledge, by extreme Los Padres adventurer David Stillman.

The objective for the day was collecting micro-trash which, along with being an unsightly mess, can be ingested by condors to the very great detriment of the big birds. My ancillary objective was to see if I could produce some passable photographs. I met the team at the usual Full of Beans rendezvous point in the Miramonte section of the west Ojai Valley near the junction of Highway 33 with Highway 150. The helm was manned by none other than the proprietor of craigrcarey.net: author, hiker, scout leader and fine whisky enthusiast; if you hike the Southern Los Padres, you need his book, Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura.

After the scenic long drive through the mountains, we turned west off Highway 33 on Foothill Road and crossed the Cuyama River to intersect Santa Barbara Canyon Road as clouds gathered, promising good light for photography. We stopped briefly to consult with the two vehicles that met us as we turned off the Big Pine Forest Service Road onto the Dry Canyon Forest Service road toward Cuyama Peak.

Intersection, Big Pine Forest Service Road and Dry Canyon Forest Service Road, October 29, 2013.

Intersection, Big Pine Forest Service Road and Dry Canyon Forest Service Road, October 29, 2013.

Once on Cuyama Peak the work of collecting micro-trash commenced under a very soupy marine layer. The conditions were poor for photography at the outset, but I tried a few shots nonetheless, then proceeded to collect garbage. Fortunately, the amorphous marine layer-afflicted sky transitioned to very dramatic, cloud-structured and filtered light. So, as much as possible without complete dereliction of my trash duties, I endeavored to document the light and land from the lofty perspective of Cuyama Peak.

Fog rolling in over Cuyama Peak, October 29, 2013.

Fog rolling in over Cuyama Peak, October 29, 2013.

View from Cuyama Peak toward Dick Smith Wilderness, October 29, 2013.

View from Cuyama Peak toward Dick Smith Wilderness, October 29, 2013.

View from Cuyama Peak toward the Cuyama Valley, October 29, 2013

View from Cuyama Peak toward the Cuyama Valley, October 29, 2013

Medium telephoto view from Cuyama Peak of a Cuyama Valley geologic feature, October 29, 2013.

Medium telephoto view from Cuyama Peak of a Cuyama Valley geologic feature, October 29, 2013.

Dick Smith Wilderness and Sierra Madre ridge from Cuyama Peak, October 29, 2013

Dick Smith Wilderness and Sierra Madre ridge from Cuyama Peak, October 29, 2013

The micro trash crew under the Cuyama fire lookout, October 29, 2013.

The micro trash crew under the Cuyama fire lookout, October 29, 2013.

View from Cuyama Peak toward the Cuyama Valley, October 29, 2013

View from Cuyama Peak toward the Cuyama Valley, October 29, 2013

View from Cuyama Peak toward the Cuyama Valley, October 29, 2013

View from Cuyama Peak toward the Cuyama Valley, October 29, 2013

View from Cuyama Peak toward Dick Smith Wilderness, October 29, 2013.

View from Cuyama Peak toward Dick Smith Wilderness, October 29, 2013.

The Cuyama fire lookout, October 29, 2013.

The Cuyama fire lookout, October 29, 2013.

The Cuyama fire lookout, October 29, 2013.

The Cuyama fire lookout, October 29, 2013.

Sierra Madre ridge and the Salisbury Potrero trail reconnaissance

Next on my itinerary was a trip to the Sierra Madre ridge to document the Salisbury Potrero trail, 26W03, a route I never knew existed. The story of the trip is well described in a post on craigrcarey.net, The Hunt for 26W03. I was honored to be among a group that included an all-star assemblage of Los Padres veterans and Trailmaster Cobra, a tough, enthusiastic young pilgrim.

My personal agenda for this adventure was to spend a night camped on the Sierra Madre ridge, take a few pictures and test my repaired knee on the descent and climb of the Salisbury Potrero trail (assuming it was passable). I had some confidence that the knee was ready, given that I had been able to cycle my standard 52 mile loop course on consecutive days, but this was the necessary boots-on-the-ground stress test.

In the afternoon of November 1, 2013 Craig, Trailmaster Cobra and I arrived at the Alamo Canyon gate of the Big Pine Forest Service road to rendezvous with Los Padres VWR luminaries Kim and Mark, who would be arriving at the closed side of the gate to transport us onto the Sierra Madre ridge. Soon I was doing something I had never done: riding in a vehicle heading up the closed portion of the Big Pine Forest Service road. It is good to know people who know people.

Our camp for the night was a flat off the Sierra Madre Forest Service road not far from Pine Corral potrero. I scouted east of the road for a spot to frame a sunrise photograph the next morning. The hoodoos and ridges overlooking the Cuyama provide great foreground potential for a wide angle landscape shot. Such wide angle shorts absolutely require a strong foreground to work.

Sunrise in the Sierra Madre, November 2, 2013.

Sunrise in the Sierra Madre, November 2, 2013.

In the process of considering locations for a sunrise shot it occurred to me that this was a perfect opportunity to set up a multi-exposure shot of the night sky. With no light pollution and clear skies predicted one can anticipate a great star field. I set up the tripod with a leveling head and micrometer elevation clamp and placed it in a location with a largely unobstructed northern view. I attached the camera with a fisheye lens mounted and programmed the intervalometer for 85 30 second shots, with three seconds between shots to allow the file to be written to the flash card. Then I waited for darkness. At some point after dinner and a beer or two, I triggered the intervalometer and walked away. When I returned after the series was complete I triggered three more 30 second shots during which I used my headlamp to paint elements of the foreground with light.

Star trails above the Sierra Madre, November 1, 2013.

Star trails above the Sierra Madre, November 1, 2013.

We spent the night sleeping under the clear Sierra Madre sky, and I had the best night’s sleep of my stay in California. In the morning, November 2, 2013, the team broke camp and headed to Salisbury Potrero to complete the survey requested of us by the Forest Service. We parked outside the Salisbury Potrero ranch grounds and were fortunate to be greeted by the gentleman who runs the ranch. That ranch foreman is the well-known Mr. Dick Gibford; Cowboy Poet, horseman, story teller and Keeper of Salisbury Potrero Knowledge. He knew the trail we were looking for and pointed us in the right direction across the ranch property. I couldn’t help but think, over and over, “how cool is this?”

The Salisbury Potrero Ranch, November 2, 2013.

The Salisbury Potrero Ranch, November 2, 2013.

Dick Gibford mounted on Ramblin' Jack Elliot, November 2, 2013.

Dick Gibford mounted on Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, November 2, 2013.

As described in the The Hunt for 26W03, the trail was in remarkably good condition. I had no issues with my repaired left knee on the descent or the ascent on the out and back route I hiked with Craig and Trailmaster Cobra. According to my GPS the one way distance was three miles with an elevation loss of 1337 feet which was, of course, regained on the return. Other than what is likely a permanent touch of stifness, my left knee performed without issue.

Heading down the ridge into Salisbury Canyon wash, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2013.

Heading down the ridge into Salisbury Canyon wash, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2013.

Later on, three of us will go back up this ridge, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2013

Later on, three of us will go back up this ridge, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2013

Everyone agrees: we go that way, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

Everyone agrees: we go that way, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

View while heading down the canyon, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

View while heading down the canyon, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

Dry waterfall in Salisbury Canyon wash, Salisbury Potrero trail, November  2, 2013.

Dry waterfall in Salisbury Canyon wash, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2013.

Spotted owl on surveillance duty in a rock alcove in Salisbury Canyon wash, Salisbury Potrero trail, November  2, 2013.

Spotted owl on surveillance duty in a rock alcove in Salisbury Canyon wash, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2013.

View while heading down the canyon, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

View while heading down the canyon, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

View while heading down the canyon, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

View while heading down the canyon, Salisbury Potrero trail, November 2, 2014.

Young Trailmaster Cobra was an inspiration, completing the route with all of his enthusiasm and inquisitiveness intact. It seems the next generation is in process and well represented.

A bit of advice before the long climb back up Salisbury Canyon wash to Salisbury Potrero, November 2, 2013.

A bit of advice before the long climb back up Salisbury Canyon wash to Salisbury Potrero, November 2, 2013.

Big Man and Little Man near the end of the hike, November 2, 2013.

Big Man and Little Man near the end of the hike, November 2, 2013.

Bryan, John, Mark and Kim traversed cross country from the bottom of the Salisbury Potrero trail and returned via the Bull Ridge trail. I had hiked the Bull Ridge and Rocky Ridge trails from Lion Spring in times past; the closure of the Lion Spring trail head is a crime. I have written and said this before: these spectacular routes should not be denied to Los Padres hikers. But this was not to be my day to revisit Bull Ridge; this was the day I confirmed the functionality of my left knee.

The heroes of Bull Ridge return to Salisbury Potrero, November 2, 2013.

The heroes of Bull Ridge return to Salisbury Potrero, November 2, 2013.

The Bull Ridge team greeted by the Salisbury Ranch horses, November 2, 2013.

The Bull Ridge team greeted by the Salisbury Ranch horses, November 2, 2013.

Once the team members had gathered again at the vehicles cold beer and food were produced as the denouement to a successful day. Dick Gibford, mounted on his horse, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, returned from a task that involved the use of a metal detector, a juxtaposition of technology that was emblematic of something and one day I will decide what that is. He stayed to BS with us a bit, which was yet another high point in a day of high points. One of the team presented the Cowboy Poet with a copy of Craig R. Carey’s Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura (have I mentioned yet in this post that if you hike the Southern Los Padres you need this book?). I took the liberty of firing shot after shot, all the while trying to maneuver sunlight, horse, rider and photographer to relative positions conducive to portraiture. I suspect Mr. Gibford thought I was nuts, but patient man that he is, he endured the process with great dignity.

Dick Gibford, The Cowboy Poet, contemplates Craig R. Carey's book, "Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura."

Dick Gibford, The Cowboy Poet, contemplates Craig R. Carey’s book, “Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura.”

And so, on November 3, 2013, I boarded a plane bound for great Northeast, optimistic that I could return west shortly and resume my self-assigned Los Padres Expatriate project.

Fire, Purple Haze and 25 Years Away: Santa Barbara Canyon to Alamar Saddle by Mountain Bike; May 16, 2013

After a 25 year reunion with the Big Pine Forest Service road destiny takes a hand. And a knee.

I traveled to Ojai on May 11, 2013 for a ten day stay with a primary mission other than seeking adventure in my role as the Los Padres Expatriate. As my schedule began to take shape, it became clear I would have one day sufficiently free to contemplate a foray into the Southern Los Padres. Assuming my contemplative process will produce practical ideas is historically dangerous but I was willing to take the chance.

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Back to Matilija, Part 2, Murietta Divide and Santa Ynez Ridge; March 22, 2013

Fire up the WABAC machine, warm up the DeLorean and take care to avoid the Morlocks; it is time to go back, again, to Matilija.

The photographs in this post will open in a new window or tab if clicked. Especially for the panoramas, much more detail will be visible when the photographs are viewed in a separate browser display space.

I left the mid-March ice and snow of the northeast and landed late Friday, March 15 at LAX with little expectation that I would have time for day-long travels in the Los Padres. As the events of the week evolved, I found that Thursday, March 22, was an open day. I considered several alternatives but my trip Sunday, March 17 to Matilija after 28 years away ultimately compelled me to head back to the Matilija trail head with the Santa Ynez ridge and Divide Peak as my destination. Putting my head out of gear and pounding along the Murietta fire road to Murietta Divide while meditating on my 50 year history in the area would be, I reasoned, my equivalent of sitting in double lotus position (which I most certainly cannot do) chanting a mantra. Thence, as though jumping into icy water after a sauna, I planned to follow the steep Monte Arido trail up to the Santa Ynez ridge, if I may be permitted to mix my cultural relaxation regimen metaphors.

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Afternoon hikes in the Ojai Front Country March 18, 19, 20, 2013

It will still be a thirty-year anniversary trip if I do it before the end of March, 2014.

It is unquestionably preferable to have the time to create an equivalency between adventures held in imagination and adventures undertaken in reality. My imagination for my March, 2013 trip west to Ojai across three time zones was modest: perhaps a three day backpack somewhere in the Los Padres. Specifically, I wanted to visit Ladybug camp and the Sespe tracing the route I took in March, 1983, the last time I passed through the iconic Harris Tunnel on Red Reef trail. But this thirty-year anniversary high concept trip was not to be; as mentioned in the post Back to Matilija, 2013-03-17: the Murietta Five, my time was committed elsewhere.

Harris tunnel, March, 1983

Harris tunnel, Red Reef trail, March, 1983: not this trip, but eventually.

But I did have afternoons free and quick hikes from the Ojai Valley should not be undervalued. The alternative was remaining indoors engaging in a process of rapid attitude deterioration. This would serve no one particularly well. Not that I always need a goal (I don’t) but in this case I decided that the theme for the hikes would be “take the best possible pictures given the conditions.” I never presume that my photographic efforts will be worth viewing. Rather, I enjoy the challenge of setting up a shot and seeing what I can put together once I get back to my digital darkroom. In the face of obvious photographic failure, delete and forget is a viable and cost-effective strategy in the digital age.

I have presented previously in words and pictures (some images dating back to the late 1970s) my long association with the Horn Canyon trail, here and here. In the afternoon of  March 18, 2013 I headed up the Horn Canyon trail to The Pines and carried my panorama kit with no particular agenda. When I arrived at The Pines there was no wind; I don’t remember ever seeing the camp so still. This made conditions perfect for shooting a stitched panorama of the camp without dealing with ghosting from subject movement which can be especially problematic with tree branches. Below is a two row by eight frame panorama. Each frame is a three shot high dynamic range composite.

The Pines

The Pines camp panorama, Horn Canyon trail, March 18, 2013

Early in the afternoon of March 19, 2013 I headed to the Oso trail head in Ojai for a quick hike up Kennedy Ridge in the Ventura River Preserve. About half way up the climb to Kennedy Ridge I crossed paths with an impressively large rattlesnake. He moved quickly across the the trail, evidently uninterested in posing for a potrait. When he departed the footpath I proceeded carefully while a warning rattle continued somewhere in the bush. Once on the ridge I hiked a short distance west to the distinctive rock outcropping I had visited previously under wet, soupy conditions to photograph a non-marine layer obscured version of the panorama I shot that wet day, December 16, 2012. The evolving story of Kennedy Ridge is covered in this post in the craigrcarey.net blog. I would also direct the reader to review the fine work of the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy.

Kennedy Ridge panorama

Panorama of the Ventura River preserve from Kennedy Ridge, March 19, 2013.

In the late afternoon of March 20 I was again without pressing duties so I headed up Signal Street to the Pratt trail head. I had not been on the Pratt trail since shortly after the Wheeler Fire in 1985. I took no pictures in 1985, but I remember clearly the view from the sign in the picture below. The trail was not the well maintained tread portrayed in this image, it was an ankle-breaking obstacle course of rock fall. This day, I hiked as far as Valley View camp and returned to Ojai as twilight approached. Valley View camp is an interesting place. It is a shady location, cool even on this warm day and supplied with water from a spring, It has not the slightest view of any valley. The scholar of all things Los Padres and author of Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura suggested to me that Valley View camp should be named after the legendary Ranger Boggs who did the work to revive the trail and build the camp sometime after the Wheeler Fire. I heartily agree. I generally speak with Ranger Boggs when I am in Ojai, but I have not yet suggested this to him. I suspect he will find the concept puzzling, such is his low key modesty. But it should be done. And with that pronouncement I will close the written portion of this missive.

The start of the upper portion of the Pratt trail, March 20, 2013

The start of the upper portion of the Pratt trail, March 20, 2013; shortly after the Wheeler Fire in 1985 this was an ankle-breaking rockfall obstacle course.

The Ojai Valley from the Pratt trail, March 20, 2013

The Ojai Valley from the Pratt trail, March 20, 2013

Valley View camp, March 20, 2013

Valley View camp, March 20, 2013

Water from the spring at Valley View camp

Water from the spring at Valley View camp

The Ojai Valley, Lake Casitas and the Channel Islands at twilight, March 20, 2013

The Ojai Valley, Lake Casitas and the Channel Islands at twilight, March 20, 2013

Back to Matilija, 2013-03-17: the Murietta Five

I arrived in California late Friday night, March 16. This was not, as a primary focus, a trip designed to realize my Los Padres Expatriate goals. But I was not adverse to making that part of the function of the visit should time permit. Saturday, March 17, was fully scheduled but Sunday, barring unforeseen complications, I intended to honor an open invitation from the author of Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura to participate in an outing with a group of Los Padres luminaries.

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Mineral King: Franklin Pass – Timber Gap Loop, August 21-24, 2012

I think I know when the transition occurred that let loose the question. The template for the question is: “You are getting older – do you think you should …?” I refer folks who ask this question to a more literate response than I would be inclined to supply.

Lewis Carroll, first two and last two verses, 
"You Are Old Father William"

You are old, father William, the young man said,
And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
Do you think, at your age, it is right?

In my youth, father William replied to his son,
I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why I do it again and again.

...

You are old, said the youth, one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
What made you so awfully clever?

I have answered three questions, and that is enough,
Said the father, Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!

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Ojai Valley Front Country: Horn Canyon and Kennedy Ridge, December 14 and 16, 2012

 The Pines and (slightly) beyond in my spare time, December 14, 2012

I needed to make a flash trip to Southern California, the type where you buy a ticket and less than 48 hours later get your butt on a plane with one carry-on and one personal item. Of course, when making flight arrangements on such short notice, the airline defaults to the Practical Joke Retrogressive Itinerary Scheduling Department which routes you through Miami by way of Seattle with eight minute connections between flights. I had no choice if I wanted to get to LAX when I needed to be there. The airline takes seriously its self-assigned mandate to increase the stress of an already stressful travel regime.

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Pine Mountain Lodge, September 18, 2012

Let’s start with the moral: A disengaged brain misses stuff.

After the triumphant retreat of the Agua Blanca gang from a hot and dry Ant Camp on September 16, 2012 I found myself in Ojai with some unexpected slack time before I had to board a plane for points east. I wanted to hike, but I would still need time for departure logistics. This made a long drive to the trail head problematic. In reality, there was not much question what my destination would be. I was going back to Pine Mountain Lodge from the Piedra Blanca trail head, repeating the hike I had done August 15, 2011. That hike had left me with a gnawing existential crises that had to be addressed.

Confused, August 15, 2011

Confused, August 15, 2011

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Ant Camp – Agua Blanca Creek, September 15 – 16, 2012

It is right and proper to shift the goal and declare success.

Things happen in the shadow of Cobblestone Mountain, at least they do to me. While I could qualify that statement with a number of anecdotes I will let those stories surface organically as I return to the places where they happened per the purpose of this blog. This Web log entry will tell the tale of my revisitation of Ant Camp on the Agua Blanca, September 15 and 16, 2012.

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