When I first laid my eyes upon you,
I felt right at home,
up on the wide open potreros,
I felt it down to the bone.
I've climbed up on her rocky peaks,
and I've been down in the oaks on her floor,
but the best parts of her are the ones that are,
just too difficult to explore.
Now the sun is setting behind my back,
and the full moon is rising up ahead.
The canyon's changing colors in front of me,
bring my ashes here when I'm dead.
Yes, this is a love song to a canyon,
and I know that wherever I may roam,
She'll be waiting for me here oh so patiently,
for my return to home.
23 April 2011
20 February 2011
Mesa Springs
I went on a two night backpack a few weeks ago, to Mesa Springs, on the southwest shoulder of Mt Abel, near the Ventura and Kern County lines. I was with my friend Doug, a former Cal Poly employee, now retired, and a long time backpacking partner. The area was surprisingly (at least to me) heavily wooded with Junipers and Pinyon Pines.
A very large grassy potrero jutted into the wooded areas where Mt. Abel finally started to flatten out. The views toward the west were stupendous of the rugged mountains I usually backpack in, along the Sierra Madre Mountains and the San Rafael Wilderness. I could actually see the rock of Lion Canyon from our vantage point.
We stayed at a campground with a fire pit and a table, and got our water out of a large spring-fed wooden barrel, a
bout 100 yards north and uphill from our camp. We debated about it for a second or two, but then just dipped our water bottles into the barrel and drank it without filtering.
Doug and I and my brother, went on our first solstice trip in 1990, to a place called Condor Cave. I remember being ill-prepared for the cold, and pictures of me in denim pants and jacket reinforces the preparation woes. ---I have all the "cool" gear now. I've become a gear head, a group of backpackers I used to make fun of, until I had enough money to spend on gear---and I appreciate being comfortable in the backcountry. I've done my share of cold and hungry.
Doug and I have spent a great deal of time in the backcountry, a lot of it to Lion Canyon, but also to White Ledge and several places along the southern side of the Hurricane Deck. On one memorable trip to White Ledge, we split up for the night and spent about 24 hours alone. I really liked that, and have since spent many nights alone. Once it was three nights alone in Lion Canyon. It was the first day of Spring, perfect weather, wildflowers covered the potreros, and for four days and three nights I only saw one group of backpackers heading east into Pine Corral. One morning I discovered Mountain Lion tracks, just 50 feet from my fire and tent.
We hadn't been out together for a long time, so it was very nice to be with Doug around a fire again. We talked and laughed a lot, drank a flask of Jack Daniels, had other implements of destruction at our disposal, and had a great time. I'm looking forward to getting out with Doug again.
A very large grassy potrero jutted into the wooded areas where Mt. Abel finally started to flatten out. The views toward the west were stupendous of the rugged mountains I usually backpack in, along the Sierra Madre Mountains and the San Rafael Wilderness. I could actually see the rock of Lion Canyon from our vantage point.We stayed at a campground with a fire pit and a table, and got our water out of a large spring-fed wooden barrel, a
bout 100 yards north and uphill from our camp. We debated about it for a second or two, but then just dipped our water bottles into the barrel and drank it without filtering.Doug and I and my brother, went on our first solstice trip in 1990, to a place called Condor Cave. I remember being ill-prepared for the cold, and pictures of me in denim pants and jacket reinforces the preparation woes. ---I have all the "cool" gear now. I've become a gear head, a group of backpackers I used to make fun of, until I had enough money to spend on gear---and I appreciate being comfortable in the backcountry. I've done my share of cold and hungry.
Doug and I have spent a great deal of time in the backcountry, a lot of it to Lion Canyon, but also to White Ledge and several places along the southern side of the Hurricane Deck. On one memorable trip to White Ledge, we split up for the night and spent about 24 hours alone. I really liked that, and have since spent many nights alone. Once it was three nights alone in Lion Canyon. It was the first day of Spring, perfect weather, wildflowers covered the potreros, and for four days and three nights I only saw one group of backpackers heading east into Pine Corral. One morning I discovered Mountain Lion tracks, just 50 feet from my fire and tent.
We hadn't been out together for a long time, so it was very nice to be with Doug around a fire again. We talked and laughed a lot, drank a flask of Jack Daniels, had other implements of destruction at our disposal, and had a great time. I'm looking forward to getting out with Doug again.
10 January 2011
2010 Winter Solstice
Since 1990, I have been backpacking into the remote backcountry of Santa Barbara County on or near the first day of Winter. This past December would have been my 20th anniversary of the trek, the most recent trips into Lion Canyon. The rain, though, would have it's say.
Over eight inches of rain was reported in central California between Dec 18 and the 22nd, and left any road we normally take into the trailhead a muddy mess. We held off as long as we could the final decision of going or not going, but finally relented and decided to stay the few days around the Solstice at my friends Dave and Sherryl's house.
We had a great time. We ate like kings, drank wine around the fireplace, went on long, sometimes wet day hikes, saw an amazing rock art site, and played our guitars late into the night. It was one of the best solstice celebrations in near memory.
The only thing it lacked, and I'm sure most of us felt this way, was the living outside. Sitting on the ground around the fire, passing a flask, feeling how cold it had become, even a few paces from the fire. Nothing more, in my opinion, can connect you to the landscape than not being able to go inside for several days. I feel relaxed and at ease, very comfortable and confident in my surroundings, and I realize I missed this feeling very much.
The nice thing is, though, Lion Canyon will still be there the next time I hike in. Our inside solstice celebration is a great memory, and will be cherished as a most appropriate celebration of my 20th anniversary.
Over eight inches of rain was reported in central California between Dec 18 and the 22nd, and left any road we normally take into the trailhead a muddy mess. We held off as long as we could the final decision of going or not going, but finally relented and decided to stay the few days around the Solstice at my friends Dave and Sherryl's house.
We had a great time. We ate like kings, drank wine around the fireplace, went on long, sometimes wet day hikes, saw an amazing rock art site, and played our guitars late into the night. It was one of the best solstice celebrations in near memory.
The only thing it lacked, and I'm sure most of us felt this way, was the living outside. Sitting on the ground around the fire, passing a flask, feeling how cold it had become, even a few paces from the fire. Nothing more, in my opinion, can connect you to the landscape than not being able to go inside for several days. I feel relaxed and at ease, very comfortable and confident in my surroundings, and I realize I missed this feeling very much.
The nice thing is, though, Lion Canyon will still be there the next time I hike in. Our inside solstice celebration is a great memory, and will be cherished as a most appropriate celebration of my 20th anniversary.
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