Day #1
Day Mileage-4.64
Total Mileage-4.64
Elevation Gained-2013 ft
Elevation Lost-738 ft.
I’d known about the Condor Trail since it was established back in 1996, but I spend so much of my time in the Sierras and northern coast of CA, that I didn’t give it a lot of thought.
But, when a gap in my calendar opened up, and I was looking for a place to go that had a favorable weather window, some friends reminded me of the Condor. After a week of reading the trail guide and chatting with the author by email and phone, I was sold. I’d hike the 60ish mile section from Highway 166, just above Santa Maria, to Highway 101 in the mountains above where I grew up in San Luis Obispo.
The 5 hour drive went quickly listening to podcasts. I was in SLO before I knew it. After grabbing a sandwich from the old stand by Ben Franklin Sandwiches (half for lunch and half for dinner #1 on the trail) I set out to drop off my car at George and Kimi’s house. One of my closest friend’s childhood home that feels like my own home really.
After a short visit, I was picked up by a friend of a friend that’s pretty much a niece. Allie, my “shuttle driver”, got me an hour down the road to the Adobe Trailhead and the start of my adventure. She dropped me off in a misty rain with a sky that appeared to be clearing up. Minutes after she drove away, the mist turned into a few hours of solid rain.
It’s now 5:51pm and pitch black. Choosing to go backpacking on some of the shortest days of the year will prove interesting indeed. The rain drifted away about an hour ago and left behind a thick wet fog. The full moon peeks out at me every once in a while when the gusty wind blows and the fog clears. I’m in my sleeping bag and under my tarp just in case there’s any more rain.
I had planned to walk about 2 miles. I walked close to 5. The sun came out a handful of times, but it mostly rained. It was a beautiful day to start a hike. Out of Adobe Trailhead on Highway 166, the trail rose steadily for about 1700 feet before following a beautiful canyon filled with oak trees with some colorful fall foliage still hanging on. Later, the trail crossed a few stunning meadows of solitary ancient oaks. All the while through a sticky clay mud that caked my shoes.
During the walk, the sound of my walking flushed a small buck out of the chaparral and later, 4 baby cows. A hundred yards after the baby cows I found all the moms. Happy cows living their best life out here in Los Padres National Forest.
I walked past numerous possible campsites (in attributes only as there were no designated campsites) but kept walking because it was so beautiful. Finally, about 30 minutes before sun down, I chose a spot, found a flat area and set up camp. No cooking tonight as I brought the other half of my SLO sandwich. The wind is blowing through the trees on this beautiful night.
Day #2
Day Mileage-13.07
Total Mileage-17.71
Elevation Gained-3815 ft
Elevation Lost-3715 ft
Cold, wet windy night. My tarp was staked in the mud and the lead stake decided it’d had enough of the wind at about 2am. The gust popped the stake out and the trekking pole woke me up as it gently dropped onto me. The sky was clear, so I pulled the tarp to the side so I wouldn't have to get out of my bag. Unfortunately, the foot-box of my sleeping bag had been rubbing against the inside of the tarp, which was covered in foggy condensation, and soaked the outside of my down bag. Not a problem, I’d deal with that later.
I woke up at about 4am to some cold toes and wrapped my rain jacket around my damp, cold feet and went back to sleep once again. Got up for good at about 7am and packed up my wet tarp, ground cloth and sleeping bag. With the sun rising, I already had a plan of stopping in a few hours to dry out my gear and have breakfast. It was time to hit the trail and warm my cold fingers and toes.
Today was a tough day on the trail. It started on a “jeep trail” along the Shaw Ridge. The road was so rough, damaged and steep in many places, that it was difficult to believe that any vehicle could safely make its way along. Luckily for me, almost all forest service roads are closed from November to March as rangers aren't crazy about coming miles and hours out to get motorists who are stuck in the mud. And there is a lot of mud! The soil here is mostly clay and when it gets wet (it’s been raining for the past 3 days straight) it gets sticky, deep and very slippery. When those three things are combined with a steep and very damaged road, walking is a bit tricky. My goal was not to fall. I’m happy to report that not only did I not fall on this slippery muddy day, but not on this entire trip.
Even though there had been a lot of rain, water was a real concern on the first half of this trek. I’d mapped out all of the water in terms of “definite,” “possible,” and “back-up.” This trail is nearly impossible to hike in the summer as there are sections of 20 to 30 miles that are bone dry. Yesterday, I’d brought enough water for day one and to get me to the first “definite” which was 4.5 miles into today. I conserved during the morning and was glad I did. The first “definite,” 4.5 miles in, was completely dry. At 5 miles, the “possible” was also dry. The “back-up” water was not there at the 6 mile marker. My “back-up” water sources were actually cattle troughs that were kept full and that hikers in this area used if needed. Not my first choice. And this noted trough had obviously been removed.
The guidebook urged hikers to “stock up” here in the Alamo Branch Creek area, alerting hikers that there was no more water for six more miles further “unless the livestock reservoir looks appealing during the wet season.” I now had about ½ a liter left for at least three and maybe six miles. The sun was out and even though it was only in the 50s, I was working hard on the ups and downs and working up quite the sweat. I’d need to drink a lot of water at the closest water source and then plan to carry quite a bit too. A liter of water weighs 2.2 pounds.
I’d dropped down almost 1300 feet into the Alamo Branch and now would start a climb of about 1500 feet back to the next line of ridges. It was getting hotter and I was getting hungry. I stopped at an area with plenty of tall, strong chaparral bushes and pulled out my wet gear to hang in the trees. I used just enough water for a packet of oatmeal and a bit more for a cup of coffee. I needed both desperately. After about 25 minutes of direct sun, wind and careful turning, my gear was dry and I was back on a new jeep road. This one was so overgrown it was actually now a single track trail. Close to noon I came around a bend and found myself at the corner of the Agua Escondido Private Property, one of two private property parcels that this trail navigates around. At the corner of this property sat the livestock pond. It was indeed the wet season, but I can’t say the pond looked “appealing.” The one thing the pond had going for it was there was a flock of ducks making it their home. Sitting down and looking at my map, I decided that I better drink up and fill up here. I knew I was becoming somewhat dehydrated and that the next water was about three more miles up the trail. Whether that water would exist or not I really couldn’t count on. It was time to filter.
I’ve got a BeFree filter and I swear by it. In my 40+ years of backpacking I’ve used lots of different filters and chemicals to treat my water. Rarely was I convinced that I needed to actually treat the water I was drinking, as most water is safe to drink without treating. But today, today I needed all the filtering I could get. I filled my filter and started the process. Within a couple minutes, it was clear that this very brown water had clogged up my filter to the point that it was going to take a very long time to get all the water I needed.
An hour later, I’d filtered about 4 liters of water and with it, made my dinner and had it for lunch. I also guzzled about a liter. Amazingly, this brown water just tasted like water. I now had about two liters of brown H2O and a very clogged water filter. Oh well, I’d figure that out later. Now it was time to hike. And this is where the trail changed from pretty to spectacular. I passed through an area of rocks and boulders that looked like they’d been arranged purposely, almost landscaped they were so beautiful. Later, just before entering Garcia Wilderness, I saw a bobcat out in the middle of a meadow. I stopped to watch it slowly walking along. I tried to take a picture or two but it was too far away. As I started walking again, the trail dipped down lower than where the bobcat was sitting last, and when I got about 100 yards further down, the trail rose back up. At that moment, I got my phone out and the bobcat saw me. I took a couple pictures and then switched to video. Just as I did, the cat spooked and took off at a full sprint while I actually captured the flight on video. Awe inspiring.
During this next 6+ miles I skirted the Agua Escondido Private Property and then later the Garcia Potrero Private Property. My goal was to camp just outside a corner of the second property where I’d been told there were some fascinating rock formations and possibly some caves with very old Native American petroglyphs. I now had enough water to last the day, night and morning. I’d just need to get more in the mid morning hours of the next day.
I reached both another dry creek and the rock area I’d been aiming for at about 4pm. I could skip this area and get some more miles in as the sun set, in about 45 minutes, or drop my pack and explore till sunset before setting up camp. I knew right then that stopping here tonight would mean some tough math. It would mean two BIG days so I could line myself up to have a day of 5-7 miles at the end. A close friend from high school was picking me up at the end and I wanted to try to be at the trailhead around mid morning.
But the rocks were so cool. Stop I would. I explored the fascinating rocks for about an hour. Some of the caves looked big enough to live in. I saw no petroglyphs and it was getting dark. I wandered back down to my backpack, rolled out my polycro ground tarp, my sleeping bag and my pillow (made out of my down jacket in a waterproof Z-Packs pillow bag. It was 5:15 and the sky was filled with brilliant colors. The meadow I was in was already cold. It was feeling damp by the minute. My fingers were too cold to try to type my journal, so I listened to a couple podcasts while watching the night sky. Later, a full moon rose like a giant stadium in the east. Still later, and from the west, what appeared to be a car headlight, lit up the ridge. In no time it was streaking through the sky eastward. I got out my phone and videoed as I watched it. It was the Space Station moving through the night sky. Another moment of awe. It was getting colder and wetter. Time for sleep.
Day #3
Day Mileage-18.23
Total Mileage-35.94
Elevation Gained-4464 ft
Elevation Lost-3778 ft
My goal was to get up at 5:30am-ish to get started with a full moon and make some early morning miles. Didn’t happen quite that way. I woke up many times during the night. My sleeping bag was getting more and more wet from the combination of dew and fog, now one in the same. Later in the very early morning hours, the temperature dropped (to what I now know was the mid to low 20s) and all of that water that had soaked the outside of my sleeping bag was now ice. Yup, it was 3am and I was covered in a layer of ice. I slid on my rain paints and wrapped my feet in my rain jacket once again, both to insulate me a bit and also to make sure that if my bag wetted through, that I’d stay mostly dry. I knew that when I actually got up in the morning, it would have to be fast. I’d have to just stuff my wet mess into my pack and hike hard to warm up. Agan, it didn’t go quite that way.
Unfortunately, the camp spot I’d chosen was at a spot where the next section of trail was very tricky. Had I known that the day before, I would have either chosen to hike on a bit to get this section done in daylight, or started later today after the sun had risen.
At 6am the sky was just hinting that the sun was coming. For about the last 30 minutes, I’d orchestrated all my moves in my head. How I’d pull my clothes from my backpack, just next to my head, and shove them into my sleeping bag to warm them up a bit. How I’d unzip my bag just enough to sit up but keep the ice from falling off onto me. How I’d undress, keeping my sleep clothes dry and dress in my now “warmed” hiking clothes. How I’d take my trash liner/thermarest fill bag and turn it inside out to stuff my icy wet sleeping bag inside and at the bottom of my pack. And how I’d hike hard by the moonlight for an hour till the sun rose and then hike on until the day warmed enough to dry out my bag. It was a good plan. And it worked, until I started walking. About 50 feet into my walk, the trail disappeared. There were just chaparral bushes. I walked east along the bushes. Nothing. I walked west along the bushes. Nothing. I looked at my map and it showed where the trail was. I went to that spot. There were bushes. I walked up closer. There was a faint hole. I got on my hands and knees and crawled in. About 15 yards in I was able to stand but was just in an area without bushes. All around me were just more bushes. There was a slight hole to my left. I once again climbed on my hands and knees for about 20 more feet. I came out to a tangle of downed trees and even bigger bushes. There was no trail here. I was going back. I got back to my original spot and decided to drop my pack and explore more. Once again, followed the line of bushes east and then west. Nothing. I decided to try way up high on the rocks to see if there was something higher I wasn’t seeing. I hiked over and under rocks and bushes. Crossed logs. Still no discernible trail. I was getting frustrated. Luckily, all this effort was warming me up nicely. After about an hour of walking, which equated to almost exactly a mile, I dropped back down to my pack. It was minutes before sunrise now and light enough to see clearly. I’d looked at my map again. From where I stood, I could see it was .9 of a mile before the “trail” opened back up to a wide open wash. There were really no other options. I was sure if I could bushwhack to the wash I’d be able to get going again. The .9 mile took 90 minutes. Less than a mile in 90 minutes. I can usually walk a strong 3.5-4.5 miles in that same amount of time. It would be one of the two toughest sections of the trek for me. At times I was on my hands and knees, crawling through simply, thorny bushes. Other times, I was walking across downed trees, whose trunks were covered in slippery ice. Sometimes going up and sometimes going down. Always checking my map to make sure I was going in the right direction. I could see nothing ahead or behind me as it was so thickly wooded.
Finally, I got a glimpse of the wash below. It was still a ways away, but it was there. And in another 30 minutes I finally set foot in the sandy loam of this unnamed wash. It was a very cold icy area and not one I wanted to linger. I moved from one side to the other and finally found the next old jeep road I’d been following. For years, and more recently to a friend, I complained that I didn't like walking on jeep or forest roads. That I wanted to be on hiking trails. The last few hours gave me a completely new perspective. I couldn't have been more pleased to hop onto this next jeep trail for some “easy” walking.
The road led into a canyon as the sun started to light up the canyon walls. I walked the road for about 1 ½ miles before turning off onto a pretty well maintained pack trail ascending a canyon with a dry stream bed. After another mile I hit the edge of Caldwell Mesa, a beautiful expanse of meadow at about 2300 feet. The sun was now higher in the sky and putting out some good heat. An old oak tree beckoned me to visit. It’s limbs served as the perfect drying rack as I spread out literally all of my gear not made of metal or plastic to either dry out or air out in the sun and gentle breeze. As nature worked it’s magic, I filled my coffee cup with a bit of bleach (my back up water purification) and some water. Into the solution I dropped the head of my clogged water filter to soak. It’s what I do when I get home from all trips to renew my filter even if it’s still flowing well. I figured I'd give it a try while out here. While I was soaking, drying and airing, I made a delicious breakfast and a cup of coffee (straight out of my pot since my coffee cup was a bit occupied). Enjoying my coffee in the sunshine in a short sleeve shirt, I could almost forget how cold I’d been all night or the adventurous couple hour start of my day. I was renewed.
An hour after arriving I was packed up and heading out across the beautiful mesa. Passing another livestock pond, I decided to wait for the next water which was just up the trail. Almost immediately I ascended another ridge and for the first time in the trip had a wide expansive view north and south and all the way to the Pacific. Spectacular. Not long into the walk was a creek running with clear water. I was happy to find that my filter, which before my bleach soaking, had been running at about 10-20% was now running at 75-85%. I was back in business.
Things were looking up and despite the difficult and late start to the morning, and the limited hours of daylight. I had a strong 10 miles in by noon and what appeared to be solid trail and jeep road ahead for the day. My goal was at least 18 miles of the day and maybe more.
The next section was about 3 ½ miles long along Trout Creek Canyon. It was very different than anywhere else thus far as it was filled with a combination of Big Leaf Maple and Cottonwood Trees. Both of which still had a surprising amount of fall color hanging from their branches. The ground too was covered in a colorful array creating a beautiful forest carpet. This canyon was filled with pheasant. They would hear me coming and take flight in groups of 10-20. The air would pulsate with the beat of those wings. Even though it happened many times, it always startled me for an instant and then caused me to break out in an ear to ear smile the next.
Getting some water at the end of Trout Creek, I joined the Hi Mountain Road for a mile to connect me to the next trail. Another forest service road, this road was closed as well. There would be no “open” road for the entirety of this 60 mile hike. In no time, I turned onto the next trail and entered Santa Lucia Wilderness. My goal, 3.61 miles and 1500 feet to the Hi Top Mountain Lookout at 3198 feet for dinner and sunset and to reevaluate how much further I would go in the dark. I knew from the Lookout it would be a road for the next 7 miles so doing the miles in the dark tonight, or the dark in the morning, should be easy to navigate.
The final push to the Lookout was tough. One thousand feet in about a mile. Steep! I got the the lookout at 4:45, about 10 minutes before sunset. I started setting up for dinner and some sunset pictures. While working at the comfortable picnic table, I realized that the back of the lookout looked to have a brand new deck made out of Trex decking. There was absolutely nothing on it and it was sparkling clean. I just couldn’t pass this spot up. I quickly stripped out of my sweaty clothes and hung them to dry in the breeze while putting on my night time clothes. Dinner and tea were ready. Parmesan pasta and Mountain tea hit the spot. The deck provided a clean safe place to walk around in my sleep socks while finishing up chores. I wanted to sleep high tonight to forgo the moisture issues I’d had the last two nights. I knew it would be cold way up here but also knew it would be dry.
Day #4
Day Mileage-30.97
Total Mileage-66.91
Elevation Gained-5784 ft
Elevation Gained-7411 ft
Up at 6:00 and packed and on the trail by 6:25. Easy to do when your gear is completely dry, you have no tent set up and walking around your camp is done on clean dry Trex. Thanks Hi Mountain Lookout! Dry gear will save me an hour of dry time today for sure. The goal today is to do about 20 miles to set myself up for a pretty easy day before being picked up. Plans always seem to change.
The road walk under an almost full moon was beautiful. And as the moon set in the west, simultaneously the sun rose in the east. It was like I was being lit up from in front and behind. Awe inspiring.
The first 6.8 miles of the day were on the Hi Mountain Road. There was no water, but I had a bit left over from the day before and I knew that after that first 6.8 miles, I’d be next to, or in, the water for most of the rest of the day.
After two and a half hours of hiking, the road ended and the Big Falls trail began. I moved from a ridge walk and into a canyon. A canyon that would lead to a second canyon and steal the sunlight and warmth of the day for the next 4 hours. About 1 ½ down I found a spot of sun and a series of waterfalls. A great spot to fill up my water, hydrate, have breakfast and some coffee. A very enjoyable spot. Then it was off into a completely different environment. One filled with moss covered rocks, lush ferns, towering maple, cottonwood, and oak. And water. Water everywhere. First in Big Creek and then in Lopez Creek. Creeks that I crossed in total, WAY over 100 times. On trail that would be on the right side of the creek for 30 yards before crossing to the left side for another 40 yards before crossing back to the right. Creeks that rarely were rock hops but more often up to the ankle and more commonly to the shin or knee. I’d have completely wet feet from 10:30 am today until 7pm. The air was damp all day long and stopping for more than a few minutes brought on chills. Finally, a few miles in, I began seeing the newts I’d read about. A few here and a few there. The same color as the leaf covered floor, I had to be alert not to step on one.
After another hour I approached the first person I’d seen in four days. Dressed all in camo and carrying a rifle, the hunter and I visited for a bit. He was hunting Banded Pigeons and told me that last summer he’d seen lots in this canyon as well as a few bears. He smiled and said he’s seen neither all day today and commented that it was finally warming up. We said our goodbyes and continued in our opposite directions.
I took a break at Sulfur Pots Camp, it had a picnic table that a Boy Scout troop had built and a fire ring. I had the rest of my dinner that I couldn't finish from the night before before heading on. This was when I made my first mistake of the day. A couple minutes out of the camp, I crossed a tributary thinking it was the same creek I’d been following. This put me on the opposite side of Lopez Creek heading back down in the same direction from which I’d come. Nothing looked familiar as I’d been on the opposite side on my way up. Almost ½ a mile down, the trail crossed the creek and a couple hundred more yards lead to a stunning multi-tiered waterfall. I stopped to admire it and almost took my phone out to take a picture. Deja vu! I’d been here before. Shit! I walked the wrong way! Arrrrrrrrrrrrr. Nothing to do except walk back to Sulfur Pot Camp and call it an extra mile for the day.
When I got back to Sulfur Pot I took my time and had to really use my maps to locate the trail in this section. I was amazed it was so difficult in such a narrow canyon, but the heavy vegetation really obscured the hard to find trail. Finally I was back on track. In and out of the water I passed Upper Lopez Campsite. Very much like Sulfur Pot, it was dark and wet. I knew this was a place I’d wake covered in ice once again. I needed to get to higher ground. I wanted to be a bit closer to the trailhead for tomorrow. I hadn’t looked at my mileage for the day since the 10 mile mark. I didn’t give much thought to how many miles I’d done. I just wanted to climb out of this canyon to some high, dry camping spot. Oh, and seeing the sunset (much less the sun again) would be a bonus.
A bit later, while watching the ground closely for holes, slippery logs, rocks, newts and poison oak, I kicked a small stick and stopped short. As I bent down, I could see hundreds of Ladybugs climbing to the entire length of the stick. As I bent down for a closer look, I saw that it wasn’t just that stick but a few sticks. Looking a bit more, I saw that within an area of about 20 square feet, there were thousands of Ladybugs all clinging to different sticks and branches. Only a few were moving. Fascinating. Awe inspiring.
I finally arrived at a bend in the canyons where the trail started to ascend. The air was damp as I climbed and suddenly I rounded a bend and I was in a new world. A Ponderosa forest with a forest floor covered in dry soft pine needles. A bit further up, Madrone trees, my favorite forest tree, appeared here and there among the Ponderosa. What a pleasant change. It was about 3:45 and my map told me there might be some camping areas with a view of the sunset about an hour from my present location. Just like last night, it would be a race for the sun.
I put it in high gear and got to East Cuesta road in no time. This was the last section of the trail and would lead all the way to Cuesta Grade, Highway 101 and my ride tomorrow. Getting to the road, left went up and right went down. I just made the tired decision that I must be going up and turned left. Half a mile up, I arrived at a dead end at the Kinneavy Radio Tower. Damn! I went the wrong way again. I pondered staying right there for the night but there really wasn’t a spot. I wandered out onto a point that looked promising. Nothing. Time to head back. Another extra mile for the day.
I’d had a spot marked on my map that was about a mile away and looked to have a good view of the sunset and camping potential. When I arrived I stopped for the view. From the spot I stood the fire red sunset lit up the horizon all the way from Lompoc to Cayucos. I could see all Nine Sisters. From Islay Hill on the southeast side of SLO to Morro Rock in Morro Bay, I could see it all. I could see my old high school, my middle school. I could see the neighborhood I grew up in. I felt nostalgic for my home town and wondered for just a moment if I could make it off the trail tonight to spend some time with my close high school buddy that I just don’t get to see enough. Just then, two mountain bikers, the second and third people I’d seen in the entire trip, rolled up to stop behind me. They asked all about my trip. We had a nice chat about the view that they ride to see as often as possible. When I asked if the trailhead was about 4 ½ miles away, they told me it was really just over three. We said our goodbyes and on a whim I turned on my phone for the first time and called my buddy to see if a ride and night at his house was possible. And it was! He would be able to meet me in about 90 minutes but was a bit unsure where the meeting spot actually was. I did my best to explain it to him and we told each other our phones would be on to keep in touch.
It was jogging time. I decided to jog most of the way with the hope of staying warm and getting there a bit before him to change clothes and have some tea while I waited. Again with plans. You’d think I’d learn.
While jogging down East Cuesta Road in the dark, the moon would come up an hour later tonight and the night was pitch black, I heard a rustling in the bushes to my left, I slowed to a walk and hear 3 or 4 quick “clicks” that yes, sounded like “click, click, click.” I did not stop walking to investigate but kept moving along back to a jog. Not more than a minute later my headlight hit a round shiny dot a bit ahead of me on the road. Once again, I slowed to a walk and as I got closer I found it was a juvenile almost black owl. The second I stopped to really look closer, it silently took flight and was gone. Back to a jog for the next 2+ miles. As I got closer to the grade the traffic below became noisy. And when I got to the highway, the confusion that I knew would start, began.
The guide book talked a bit about the route from the east to the west side of the freeway. The map made it look pretty straight forward. The first part, although straight forward, was sketchy. The rest was a complete cluster. I walked ON the freeway for a quarter mile north and then cut down a culvert that led to an underpass with train tracks. The entirety of the route was covered in trash. It’s amazing what people will throw out of their cars. Once under the freeway the map looked like I followed the tracks which is what I did. But, about 5 minutes in, I came to a train tunnel. Believing I was not on the trail, and checking my map to confirm that, I headed back to the overpass and tried a higher route above and paralleling the tracks. This was a mess as well. Trash, an old homeless encampment, and impenetrable bushes. There was no trail here either. It was then that I called my buddy and left a somewhat frantic message telling him I was lost and not sure if or when I’d get to the pick up spot.
Back to the map. The map showed that there was a road leading to the trailhead that my buddy was meeting me at and that the tracks crossed that road. Looks like I could stay on the tracks, pop through the tunnel and hit the road. I decided to do that. Entering the tunnel was a bit eerie but an adventure at the same time. After walking for about 100 yards in and then not being able to see light either ahead of me or even now behind me, the adventure wasn’t fun any more. It was just freaky. I turned around and once again jogged back to where I’d entered. Stimimied again.
Once out, I looked at the map once again. The road that I believed crossed the tracks, actually went over the train tunnel. Not something my map did a good job showing. Looking more closely, I saw that the road continued on and was up over the rise on the left (freeway was on my right) through some woods and over another rise. Time to bushwhack. It was muddy and slippery but I got to the road and breathed a sigh of relief. Time to get moving. About 300 yard down the road I came to what looked like an old fashioned junk yard. Anything and everything. Around the bend of the road there was a trailer and lots of cars. And there was a dog. A pit bull on a leash. A long leash that allowed it to move from one side of the road to the other. It was quietly growling and coming my way. I spoke loudly. And then louder. Partially to get the dog to back off and partially in hopes that someone in the trailer would hear me and come call off the dog. Neither happened. But I was NOT stopping. It had been an hour of trying to find my way under this freeway and I was so close. I got louder, got my trekking poles ready to defend myself and moved quickly along the edge of the street as the dog came closer and growled louder. I also yelled back at it louder. In the end, it never came closer than about 20 feet, but sure could have. Adrenaline rush for sure.
Another 150 yards down the road I hit the freeway. Wait. This wasn’t the pick up spot. I looked at my map and saw that I was still ¾ of a mile north of that. My buddy would be coming from the north. Immediately, I dialed his number.
I said, “I’m not at the spot I’m closer.”
He couldn't hear me very well and as he said that I switched my headlight from white to red and said, “Look for the red light.”
“What?” he said
“The break check sign and red light,” I said.
“Red Light!” he yelled.
I looked north on the freeway and saw no one coming toward me that seemed to be slowing down.
“Wait, where are you?” I said.
“I’m in the emergency lane just past the break check sign”
I looked to my right and there he was with his emergency blinkers on. He’d seen the red light at the very moment he got to me and immediately pulled over. Such a lucky break. If he’d missed me, he would have had no choice but to wait at the parking lot we had originally agreed to meet at. And I would have had to bushwhack or walk the freeway to get to him.
A warm, dry car. A cushioned seat. An old friend. I was back in civilization just like that. Gone for 4 solid days having only seen 3 other human beings and all just in the last few hours. And today had been a day. It started on top of Hi Top Mountain at 6am and was ending atop Cuesta Grade at 7pm. Two wrong turns. An extra 2 miles on an almost 31 mile day. Epic.
Got my car and a shower and one friend’s parents’ house. Out to dinner and a night at the home of another friend’s house. Breakfast and coffee followed by a nice walk in Los Osos. Getting caught up with an old friend was just as special as the time I spent on my own in the woods.
What. A. Trip!
Day Mileage-4.64
Total Mileage-4.64
Elevation Gained-2013 ft
Elevation Lost-738 ft.
I’d known about the Condor Trail since it was established back in 1996, but I spend so much of my time in the Sierras and northern coast of CA, that I didn’t give it a lot of thought.
But, when a gap in my calendar opened up, and I was looking for a place to go that had a favorable weather window, some friends reminded me of the Condor. After a week of reading the trail guide and chatting with the author by email and phone, I was sold. I’d hike the 60ish mile section from Highway 166, just above Santa Maria, to Highway 101 in the mountains above where I grew up in San Luis Obispo.
The 5 hour drive went quickly listening to podcasts. I was in SLO before I knew it. After grabbing a sandwich from the old stand by Ben Franklin Sandwiches (half for lunch and half for dinner #1 on the trail) I set out to drop off my car at George and Kimi’s house. One of my closest friend’s childhood home that feels like my own home really.
After a short visit, I was picked up by a friend of a friend that’s pretty much a niece. Allie, my “shuttle driver”, got me an hour down the road to the Adobe Trailhead and the start of my adventure. She dropped me off in a misty rain with a sky that appeared to be clearing up. Minutes after she drove away, the mist turned into a few hours of solid rain.
It’s now 5:51pm and pitch black. Choosing to go backpacking on some of the shortest days of the year will prove interesting indeed. The rain drifted away about an hour ago and left behind a thick wet fog. The full moon peeks out at me every once in a while when the gusty wind blows and the fog clears. I’m in my sleeping bag and under my tarp just in case there’s any more rain.
I had planned to walk about 2 miles. I walked close to 5. The sun came out a handful of times, but it mostly rained. It was a beautiful day to start a hike. Out of Adobe Trailhead on Highway 166, the trail rose steadily for about 1700 feet before following a beautiful canyon filled with oak trees with some colorful fall foliage still hanging on. Later, the trail crossed a few stunning meadows of solitary ancient oaks. All the while through a sticky clay mud that caked my shoes.
During the walk, the sound of my walking flushed a small buck out of the chaparral and later, 4 baby cows. A hundred yards after the baby cows I found all the moms. Happy cows living their best life out here in Los Padres National Forest.
I walked past numerous possible campsites (in attributes only as there were no designated campsites) but kept walking because it was so beautiful. Finally, about 30 minutes before sun down, I chose a spot, found a flat area and set up camp. No cooking tonight as I brought the other half of my SLO sandwich. The wind is blowing through the trees on this beautiful night.
Day #2
Day Mileage-13.07
Total Mileage-17.71
Elevation Gained-3815 ft
Elevation Lost-3715 ft
Cold, wet windy night. My tarp was staked in the mud and the lead stake decided it’d had enough of the wind at about 2am. The gust popped the stake out and the trekking pole woke me up as it gently dropped onto me. The sky was clear, so I pulled the tarp to the side so I wouldn't have to get out of my bag. Unfortunately, the foot-box of my sleeping bag had been rubbing against the inside of the tarp, which was covered in foggy condensation, and soaked the outside of my down bag. Not a problem, I’d deal with that later.
I woke up at about 4am to some cold toes and wrapped my rain jacket around my damp, cold feet and went back to sleep once again. Got up for good at about 7am and packed up my wet tarp, ground cloth and sleeping bag. With the sun rising, I already had a plan of stopping in a few hours to dry out my gear and have breakfast. It was time to hit the trail and warm my cold fingers and toes.
Today was a tough day on the trail. It started on a “jeep trail” along the Shaw Ridge. The road was so rough, damaged and steep in many places, that it was difficult to believe that any vehicle could safely make its way along. Luckily for me, almost all forest service roads are closed from November to March as rangers aren't crazy about coming miles and hours out to get motorists who are stuck in the mud. And there is a lot of mud! The soil here is mostly clay and when it gets wet (it’s been raining for the past 3 days straight) it gets sticky, deep and very slippery. When those three things are combined with a steep and very damaged road, walking is a bit tricky. My goal was not to fall. I’m happy to report that not only did I not fall on this slippery muddy day, but not on this entire trip.
Even though there had been a lot of rain, water was a real concern on the first half of this trek. I’d mapped out all of the water in terms of “definite,” “possible,” and “back-up.” This trail is nearly impossible to hike in the summer as there are sections of 20 to 30 miles that are bone dry. Yesterday, I’d brought enough water for day one and to get me to the first “definite” which was 4.5 miles into today. I conserved during the morning and was glad I did. The first “definite,” 4.5 miles in, was completely dry. At 5 miles, the “possible” was also dry. The “back-up” water was not there at the 6 mile marker. My “back-up” water sources were actually cattle troughs that were kept full and that hikers in this area used if needed. Not my first choice. And this noted trough had obviously been removed.
The guidebook urged hikers to “stock up” here in the Alamo Branch Creek area, alerting hikers that there was no more water for six more miles further “unless the livestock reservoir looks appealing during the wet season.” I now had about ½ a liter left for at least three and maybe six miles. The sun was out and even though it was only in the 50s, I was working hard on the ups and downs and working up quite the sweat. I’d need to drink a lot of water at the closest water source and then plan to carry quite a bit too. A liter of water weighs 2.2 pounds.
I’d dropped down almost 1300 feet into the Alamo Branch and now would start a climb of about 1500 feet back to the next line of ridges. It was getting hotter and I was getting hungry. I stopped at an area with plenty of tall, strong chaparral bushes and pulled out my wet gear to hang in the trees. I used just enough water for a packet of oatmeal and a bit more for a cup of coffee. I needed both desperately. After about 25 minutes of direct sun, wind and careful turning, my gear was dry and I was back on a new jeep road. This one was so overgrown it was actually now a single track trail. Close to noon I came around a bend and found myself at the corner of the Agua Escondido Private Property, one of two private property parcels that this trail navigates around. At the corner of this property sat the livestock pond. It was indeed the wet season, but I can’t say the pond looked “appealing.” The one thing the pond had going for it was there was a flock of ducks making it their home. Sitting down and looking at my map, I decided that I better drink up and fill up here. I knew I was becoming somewhat dehydrated and that the next water was about three more miles up the trail. Whether that water would exist or not I really couldn’t count on. It was time to filter.
I’ve got a BeFree filter and I swear by it. In my 40+ years of backpacking I’ve used lots of different filters and chemicals to treat my water. Rarely was I convinced that I needed to actually treat the water I was drinking, as most water is safe to drink without treating. But today, today I needed all the filtering I could get. I filled my filter and started the process. Within a couple minutes, it was clear that this very brown water had clogged up my filter to the point that it was going to take a very long time to get all the water I needed.
An hour later, I’d filtered about 4 liters of water and with it, made my dinner and had it for lunch. I also guzzled about a liter. Amazingly, this brown water just tasted like water. I now had about two liters of brown H2O and a very clogged water filter. Oh well, I’d figure that out later. Now it was time to hike. And this is where the trail changed from pretty to spectacular. I passed through an area of rocks and boulders that looked like they’d been arranged purposely, almost landscaped they were so beautiful. Later, just before entering Garcia Wilderness, I saw a bobcat out in the middle of a meadow. I stopped to watch it slowly walking along. I tried to take a picture or two but it was too far away. As I started walking again, the trail dipped down lower than where the bobcat was sitting last, and when I got about 100 yards further down, the trail rose back up. At that moment, I got my phone out and the bobcat saw me. I took a couple pictures and then switched to video. Just as I did, the cat spooked and took off at a full sprint while I actually captured the flight on video. Awe inspiring.
During this next 6+ miles I skirted the Agua Escondido Private Property and then later the Garcia Potrero Private Property. My goal was to camp just outside a corner of the second property where I’d been told there were some fascinating rock formations and possibly some caves with very old Native American petroglyphs. I now had enough water to last the day, night and morning. I’d just need to get more in the mid morning hours of the next day.
I reached both another dry creek and the rock area I’d been aiming for at about 4pm. I could skip this area and get some more miles in as the sun set, in about 45 minutes, or drop my pack and explore till sunset before setting up camp. I knew right then that stopping here tonight would mean some tough math. It would mean two BIG days so I could line myself up to have a day of 5-7 miles at the end. A close friend from high school was picking me up at the end and I wanted to try to be at the trailhead around mid morning.
But the rocks were so cool. Stop I would. I explored the fascinating rocks for about an hour. Some of the caves looked big enough to live in. I saw no petroglyphs and it was getting dark. I wandered back down to my backpack, rolled out my polycro ground tarp, my sleeping bag and my pillow (made out of my down jacket in a waterproof Z-Packs pillow bag. It was 5:15 and the sky was filled with brilliant colors. The meadow I was in was already cold. It was feeling damp by the minute. My fingers were too cold to try to type my journal, so I listened to a couple podcasts while watching the night sky. Later, a full moon rose like a giant stadium in the east. Still later, and from the west, what appeared to be a car headlight, lit up the ridge. In no time it was streaking through the sky eastward. I got out my phone and videoed as I watched it. It was the Space Station moving through the night sky. Another moment of awe. It was getting colder and wetter. Time for sleep.
Day #3
Day Mileage-18.23
Total Mileage-35.94
Elevation Gained-4464 ft
Elevation Lost-3778 ft
My goal was to get up at 5:30am-ish to get started with a full moon and make some early morning miles. Didn’t happen quite that way. I woke up many times during the night. My sleeping bag was getting more and more wet from the combination of dew and fog, now one in the same. Later in the very early morning hours, the temperature dropped (to what I now know was the mid to low 20s) and all of that water that had soaked the outside of my sleeping bag was now ice. Yup, it was 3am and I was covered in a layer of ice. I slid on my rain paints and wrapped my feet in my rain jacket once again, both to insulate me a bit and also to make sure that if my bag wetted through, that I’d stay mostly dry. I knew that when I actually got up in the morning, it would have to be fast. I’d have to just stuff my wet mess into my pack and hike hard to warm up. Agan, it didn’t go quite that way.
Unfortunately, the camp spot I’d chosen was at a spot where the next section of trail was very tricky. Had I known that the day before, I would have either chosen to hike on a bit to get this section done in daylight, or started later today after the sun had risen.
At 6am the sky was just hinting that the sun was coming. For about the last 30 minutes, I’d orchestrated all my moves in my head. How I’d pull my clothes from my backpack, just next to my head, and shove them into my sleeping bag to warm them up a bit. How I’d unzip my bag just enough to sit up but keep the ice from falling off onto me. How I’d undress, keeping my sleep clothes dry and dress in my now “warmed” hiking clothes. How I’d take my trash liner/thermarest fill bag and turn it inside out to stuff my icy wet sleeping bag inside and at the bottom of my pack. And how I’d hike hard by the moonlight for an hour till the sun rose and then hike on until the day warmed enough to dry out my bag. It was a good plan. And it worked, until I started walking. About 50 feet into my walk, the trail disappeared. There were just chaparral bushes. I walked east along the bushes. Nothing. I walked west along the bushes. Nothing. I looked at my map and it showed where the trail was. I went to that spot. There were bushes. I walked up closer. There was a faint hole. I got on my hands and knees and crawled in. About 15 yards in I was able to stand but was just in an area without bushes. All around me were just more bushes. There was a slight hole to my left. I once again climbed on my hands and knees for about 20 more feet. I came out to a tangle of downed trees and even bigger bushes. There was no trail here. I was going back. I got back to my original spot and decided to drop my pack and explore more. Once again, followed the line of bushes east and then west. Nothing. I decided to try way up high on the rocks to see if there was something higher I wasn’t seeing. I hiked over and under rocks and bushes. Crossed logs. Still no discernible trail. I was getting frustrated. Luckily, all this effort was warming me up nicely. After about an hour of walking, which equated to almost exactly a mile, I dropped back down to my pack. It was minutes before sunrise now and light enough to see clearly. I’d looked at my map again. From where I stood, I could see it was .9 of a mile before the “trail” opened back up to a wide open wash. There were really no other options. I was sure if I could bushwhack to the wash I’d be able to get going again. The .9 mile took 90 minutes. Less than a mile in 90 minutes. I can usually walk a strong 3.5-4.5 miles in that same amount of time. It would be one of the two toughest sections of the trek for me. At times I was on my hands and knees, crawling through simply, thorny bushes. Other times, I was walking across downed trees, whose trunks were covered in slippery ice. Sometimes going up and sometimes going down. Always checking my map to make sure I was going in the right direction. I could see nothing ahead or behind me as it was so thickly wooded.
Finally, I got a glimpse of the wash below. It was still a ways away, but it was there. And in another 30 minutes I finally set foot in the sandy loam of this unnamed wash. It was a very cold icy area and not one I wanted to linger. I moved from one side to the other and finally found the next old jeep road I’d been following. For years, and more recently to a friend, I complained that I didn't like walking on jeep or forest roads. That I wanted to be on hiking trails. The last few hours gave me a completely new perspective. I couldn't have been more pleased to hop onto this next jeep trail for some “easy” walking.
The road led into a canyon as the sun started to light up the canyon walls. I walked the road for about 1 ½ miles before turning off onto a pretty well maintained pack trail ascending a canyon with a dry stream bed. After another mile I hit the edge of Caldwell Mesa, a beautiful expanse of meadow at about 2300 feet. The sun was now higher in the sky and putting out some good heat. An old oak tree beckoned me to visit. It’s limbs served as the perfect drying rack as I spread out literally all of my gear not made of metal or plastic to either dry out or air out in the sun and gentle breeze. As nature worked it’s magic, I filled my coffee cup with a bit of bleach (my back up water purification) and some water. Into the solution I dropped the head of my clogged water filter to soak. It’s what I do when I get home from all trips to renew my filter even if it’s still flowing well. I figured I'd give it a try while out here. While I was soaking, drying and airing, I made a delicious breakfast and a cup of coffee (straight out of my pot since my coffee cup was a bit occupied). Enjoying my coffee in the sunshine in a short sleeve shirt, I could almost forget how cold I’d been all night or the adventurous couple hour start of my day. I was renewed.
An hour after arriving I was packed up and heading out across the beautiful mesa. Passing another livestock pond, I decided to wait for the next water which was just up the trail. Almost immediately I ascended another ridge and for the first time in the trip had a wide expansive view north and south and all the way to the Pacific. Spectacular. Not long into the walk was a creek running with clear water. I was happy to find that my filter, which before my bleach soaking, had been running at about 10-20% was now running at 75-85%. I was back in business.
Things were looking up and despite the difficult and late start to the morning, and the limited hours of daylight. I had a strong 10 miles in by noon and what appeared to be solid trail and jeep road ahead for the day. My goal was at least 18 miles of the day and maybe more.
The next section was about 3 ½ miles long along Trout Creek Canyon. It was very different than anywhere else thus far as it was filled with a combination of Big Leaf Maple and Cottonwood Trees. Both of which still had a surprising amount of fall color hanging from their branches. The ground too was covered in a colorful array creating a beautiful forest carpet. This canyon was filled with pheasant. They would hear me coming and take flight in groups of 10-20. The air would pulsate with the beat of those wings. Even though it happened many times, it always startled me for an instant and then caused me to break out in an ear to ear smile the next.
Getting some water at the end of Trout Creek, I joined the Hi Mountain Road for a mile to connect me to the next trail. Another forest service road, this road was closed as well. There would be no “open” road for the entirety of this 60 mile hike. In no time, I turned onto the next trail and entered Santa Lucia Wilderness. My goal, 3.61 miles and 1500 feet to the Hi Top Mountain Lookout at 3198 feet for dinner and sunset and to reevaluate how much further I would go in the dark. I knew from the Lookout it would be a road for the next 7 miles so doing the miles in the dark tonight, or the dark in the morning, should be easy to navigate.
The final push to the Lookout was tough. One thousand feet in about a mile. Steep! I got the the lookout at 4:45, about 10 minutes before sunset. I started setting up for dinner and some sunset pictures. While working at the comfortable picnic table, I realized that the back of the lookout looked to have a brand new deck made out of Trex decking. There was absolutely nothing on it and it was sparkling clean. I just couldn’t pass this spot up. I quickly stripped out of my sweaty clothes and hung them to dry in the breeze while putting on my night time clothes. Dinner and tea were ready. Parmesan pasta and Mountain tea hit the spot. The deck provided a clean safe place to walk around in my sleep socks while finishing up chores. I wanted to sleep high tonight to forgo the moisture issues I’d had the last two nights. I knew it would be cold way up here but also knew it would be dry.
Day #4
Day Mileage-30.97
Total Mileage-66.91
Elevation Gained-5784 ft
Elevation Gained-7411 ft
Up at 6:00 and packed and on the trail by 6:25. Easy to do when your gear is completely dry, you have no tent set up and walking around your camp is done on clean dry Trex. Thanks Hi Mountain Lookout! Dry gear will save me an hour of dry time today for sure. The goal today is to do about 20 miles to set myself up for a pretty easy day before being picked up. Plans always seem to change.
The road walk under an almost full moon was beautiful. And as the moon set in the west, simultaneously the sun rose in the east. It was like I was being lit up from in front and behind. Awe inspiring.
The first 6.8 miles of the day were on the Hi Mountain Road. There was no water, but I had a bit left over from the day before and I knew that after that first 6.8 miles, I’d be next to, or in, the water for most of the rest of the day.
After two and a half hours of hiking, the road ended and the Big Falls trail began. I moved from a ridge walk and into a canyon. A canyon that would lead to a second canyon and steal the sunlight and warmth of the day for the next 4 hours. About 1 ½ down I found a spot of sun and a series of waterfalls. A great spot to fill up my water, hydrate, have breakfast and some coffee. A very enjoyable spot. Then it was off into a completely different environment. One filled with moss covered rocks, lush ferns, towering maple, cottonwood, and oak. And water. Water everywhere. First in Big Creek and then in Lopez Creek. Creeks that I crossed in total, WAY over 100 times. On trail that would be on the right side of the creek for 30 yards before crossing to the left side for another 40 yards before crossing back to the right. Creeks that rarely were rock hops but more often up to the ankle and more commonly to the shin or knee. I’d have completely wet feet from 10:30 am today until 7pm. The air was damp all day long and stopping for more than a few minutes brought on chills. Finally, a few miles in, I began seeing the newts I’d read about. A few here and a few there. The same color as the leaf covered floor, I had to be alert not to step on one.
After another hour I approached the first person I’d seen in four days. Dressed all in camo and carrying a rifle, the hunter and I visited for a bit. He was hunting Banded Pigeons and told me that last summer he’d seen lots in this canyon as well as a few bears. He smiled and said he’s seen neither all day today and commented that it was finally warming up. We said our goodbyes and continued in our opposite directions.
I took a break at Sulfur Pots Camp, it had a picnic table that a Boy Scout troop had built and a fire ring. I had the rest of my dinner that I couldn't finish from the night before before heading on. This was when I made my first mistake of the day. A couple minutes out of the camp, I crossed a tributary thinking it was the same creek I’d been following. This put me on the opposite side of Lopez Creek heading back down in the same direction from which I’d come. Nothing looked familiar as I’d been on the opposite side on my way up. Almost ½ a mile down, the trail crossed the creek and a couple hundred more yards lead to a stunning multi-tiered waterfall. I stopped to admire it and almost took my phone out to take a picture. Deja vu! I’d been here before. Shit! I walked the wrong way! Arrrrrrrrrrrrr. Nothing to do except walk back to Sulfur Pot Camp and call it an extra mile for the day.
When I got back to Sulfur Pot I took my time and had to really use my maps to locate the trail in this section. I was amazed it was so difficult in such a narrow canyon, but the heavy vegetation really obscured the hard to find trail. Finally I was back on track. In and out of the water I passed Upper Lopez Campsite. Very much like Sulfur Pot, it was dark and wet. I knew this was a place I’d wake covered in ice once again. I needed to get to higher ground. I wanted to be a bit closer to the trailhead for tomorrow. I hadn’t looked at my mileage for the day since the 10 mile mark. I didn’t give much thought to how many miles I’d done. I just wanted to climb out of this canyon to some high, dry camping spot. Oh, and seeing the sunset (much less the sun again) would be a bonus.
A bit later, while watching the ground closely for holes, slippery logs, rocks, newts and poison oak, I kicked a small stick and stopped short. As I bent down, I could see hundreds of Ladybugs climbing to the entire length of the stick. As I bent down for a closer look, I saw that it wasn’t just that stick but a few sticks. Looking a bit more, I saw that within an area of about 20 square feet, there were thousands of Ladybugs all clinging to different sticks and branches. Only a few were moving. Fascinating. Awe inspiring.
I finally arrived at a bend in the canyons where the trail started to ascend. The air was damp as I climbed and suddenly I rounded a bend and I was in a new world. A Ponderosa forest with a forest floor covered in dry soft pine needles. A bit further up, Madrone trees, my favorite forest tree, appeared here and there among the Ponderosa. What a pleasant change. It was about 3:45 and my map told me there might be some camping areas with a view of the sunset about an hour from my present location. Just like last night, it would be a race for the sun.
I put it in high gear and got to East Cuesta road in no time. This was the last section of the trail and would lead all the way to Cuesta Grade, Highway 101 and my ride tomorrow. Getting to the road, left went up and right went down. I just made the tired decision that I must be going up and turned left. Half a mile up, I arrived at a dead end at the Kinneavy Radio Tower. Damn! I went the wrong way again. I pondered staying right there for the night but there really wasn’t a spot. I wandered out onto a point that looked promising. Nothing. Time to head back. Another extra mile for the day.
I’d had a spot marked on my map that was about a mile away and looked to have a good view of the sunset and camping potential. When I arrived I stopped for the view. From the spot I stood the fire red sunset lit up the horizon all the way from Lompoc to Cayucos. I could see all Nine Sisters. From Islay Hill on the southeast side of SLO to Morro Rock in Morro Bay, I could see it all. I could see my old high school, my middle school. I could see the neighborhood I grew up in. I felt nostalgic for my home town and wondered for just a moment if I could make it off the trail tonight to spend some time with my close high school buddy that I just don’t get to see enough. Just then, two mountain bikers, the second and third people I’d seen in the entire trip, rolled up to stop behind me. They asked all about my trip. We had a nice chat about the view that they ride to see as often as possible. When I asked if the trailhead was about 4 ½ miles away, they told me it was really just over three. We said our goodbyes and on a whim I turned on my phone for the first time and called my buddy to see if a ride and night at his house was possible. And it was! He would be able to meet me in about 90 minutes but was a bit unsure where the meeting spot actually was. I did my best to explain it to him and we told each other our phones would be on to keep in touch.
It was jogging time. I decided to jog most of the way with the hope of staying warm and getting there a bit before him to change clothes and have some tea while I waited. Again with plans. You’d think I’d learn.
While jogging down East Cuesta Road in the dark, the moon would come up an hour later tonight and the night was pitch black, I heard a rustling in the bushes to my left, I slowed to a walk and hear 3 or 4 quick “clicks” that yes, sounded like “click, click, click.” I did not stop walking to investigate but kept moving along back to a jog. Not more than a minute later my headlight hit a round shiny dot a bit ahead of me on the road. Once again, I slowed to a walk and as I got closer I found it was a juvenile almost black owl. The second I stopped to really look closer, it silently took flight and was gone. Back to a jog for the next 2+ miles. As I got closer to the grade the traffic below became noisy. And when I got to the highway, the confusion that I knew would start, began.
The guide book talked a bit about the route from the east to the west side of the freeway. The map made it look pretty straight forward. The first part, although straight forward, was sketchy. The rest was a complete cluster. I walked ON the freeway for a quarter mile north and then cut down a culvert that led to an underpass with train tracks. The entirety of the route was covered in trash. It’s amazing what people will throw out of their cars. Once under the freeway the map looked like I followed the tracks which is what I did. But, about 5 minutes in, I came to a train tunnel. Believing I was not on the trail, and checking my map to confirm that, I headed back to the overpass and tried a higher route above and paralleling the tracks. This was a mess as well. Trash, an old homeless encampment, and impenetrable bushes. There was no trail here either. It was then that I called my buddy and left a somewhat frantic message telling him I was lost and not sure if or when I’d get to the pick up spot.
Back to the map. The map showed that there was a road leading to the trailhead that my buddy was meeting me at and that the tracks crossed that road. Looks like I could stay on the tracks, pop through the tunnel and hit the road. I decided to do that. Entering the tunnel was a bit eerie but an adventure at the same time. After walking for about 100 yards in and then not being able to see light either ahead of me or even now behind me, the adventure wasn’t fun any more. It was just freaky. I turned around and once again jogged back to where I’d entered. Stimimied again.
Once out, I looked at the map once again. The road that I believed crossed the tracks, actually went over the train tunnel. Not something my map did a good job showing. Looking more closely, I saw that the road continued on and was up over the rise on the left (freeway was on my right) through some woods and over another rise. Time to bushwhack. It was muddy and slippery but I got to the road and breathed a sigh of relief. Time to get moving. About 300 yard down the road I came to what looked like an old fashioned junk yard. Anything and everything. Around the bend of the road there was a trailer and lots of cars. And there was a dog. A pit bull on a leash. A long leash that allowed it to move from one side of the road to the other. It was quietly growling and coming my way. I spoke loudly. And then louder. Partially to get the dog to back off and partially in hopes that someone in the trailer would hear me and come call off the dog. Neither happened. But I was NOT stopping. It had been an hour of trying to find my way under this freeway and I was so close. I got louder, got my trekking poles ready to defend myself and moved quickly along the edge of the street as the dog came closer and growled louder. I also yelled back at it louder. In the end, it never came closer than about 20 feet, but sure could have. Adrenaline rush for sure.
Another 150 yards down the road I hit the freeway. Wait. This wasn’t the pick up spot. I looked at my map and saw that I was still ¾ of a mile north of that. My buddy would be coming from the north. Immediately, I dialed his number.
I said, “I’m not at the spot I’m closer.”
He couldn't hear me very well and as he said that I switched my headlight from white to red and said, “Look for the red light.”
“What?” he said
“The break check sign and red light,” I said.
“Red Light!” he yelled.
I looked north on the freeway and saw no one coming toward me that seemed to be slowing down.
“Wait, where are you?” I said.
“I’m in the emergency lane just past the break check sign”
I looked to my right and there he was with his emergency blinkers on. He’d seen the red light at the very moment he got to me and immediately pulled over. Such a lucky break. If he’d missed me, he would have had no choice but to wait at the parking lot we had originally agreed to meet at. And I would have had to bushwhack or walk the freeway to get to him.
A warm, dry car. A cushioned seat. An old friend. I was back in civilization just like that. Gone for 4 solid days having only seen 3 other human beings and all just in the last few hours. And today had been a day. It started on top of Hi Top Mountain at 6am and was ending atop Cuesta Grade at 7pm. Two wrong turns. An extra 2 miles on an almost 31 mile day. Epic.
Got my car and a shower and one friend’s parents’ house. Out to dinner and a night at the home of another friend’s house. Breakfast and coffee followed by a nice walk in Los Osos. Getting caught up with an old friend was just as special as the time I spent on my own in the woods.
What. A. Trip!