The Obligatory
"Play safe. Ski only in clockwise direction. Let's all have fun together."
Monday, May 29, 2006
Anza-Borrego Adventure Pt. 1 - Hellhole Canyon
I spent the greater portion of the Memorial Day weekend on a two-day camping and hiking expedition to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, a place I'd wanted to check out since 'round February but hadn't made it to, yet. It's about a three hour drive from L.A., which isn't terribly far for a day hike, but seeing as the park was so freakin' huge, I wanted to make sure I could get in as many hikes as possible while I was down there ... and as it would be the first hike for me since before E3, I was hurtin' for a big trip.
Thankfully, I was able to convince my buddy Will from Attack of the Show and his friend Renee to come along with me. Solo hiking is great, don't get me wrong, but when you're wandering the desert for a few days, it's nice to have company. Especially company that's as excited about running around outside as you are.
I'll try to divide this excursion into blog-digestible bits for ya.
I picked up Will and Renee around 6:30AM on Saturday and started the drive down in the pre-vacactioner open freeways. The drive was pretty uneventful, but man - no matter how many times I drive through California, I'm always surprised with just how incredibly rural it gets when you start leaving the cities. Not even 90 minutes outside of Los Angeles, you start hitting towns under 10,000 people. Closer to the park, even less - we passed through a few towns and unincorporated villages with less than 200 people ... one such town's city limit sign read "population: 197 friendly people, 2 or 3 grouches."
We eventually arrived at the park's entrance and descended from the lush coastal ranges down into the desert, taking some time to visit the visitor center to bug some of the rangers with questions ... like what trails are the least crowded, and which of the dirt roads wouldn't destroy my Honda Accord.
We also found out from the rangers that Anza-Borrego has what is probably the most liberal set of park rules anywhere. Hiking off trail is permitted, there are no entrance fees, camping at primitive campgrounds is also free, and if that doesn't work, you're allowed to camp anywhere in the park as long as your car is a full length off the road. All they want you to do is keep your fires in metal containers, and that's pretty much it.
So we got information on the invitingly-named Hellhole Canyon, went outside, and promptly took off in the wrong direction. Hey, the desert is confusing sometimes. We made the best of it and scrambled up a short "warm-up trail" to a low peak before heading back to the car to get to the trailhead.
The first section of the trail wound its way through your standard low desert scrubland. Not necessarily much to look at, although we were treated to a few scattered blooming yucca plants and ocotillo cacti. That's one of the things I really like most about the desert - there is actually a lot of color and diversity going on, you just have to keep your eyes open for it.
As the canyon walls closed in on us from either side, the trail started following a shallow, broad wash imprinted in the sand. The boulders that washed down from previous rainstorms let us break up the monotony with some light scrambling, and we eventually reached the first oasis. Basically a small group of two or three short palm trees and some brush, it merely encouraged us to keep hiking further into the canyon.
We started seeing a small trickle of water in the wash before the second oasis, and the plant and wildlife increased dramatically. Thicker palms, ferns and vines huddled around both sides of the stream, just a few feet away from the crackling desert. I spotted a kingsnake under some rocks we were hiking across, and we let it pass undisturbed.
Further in the second oasis, we found a small trickle of water slipping through a crack in a boulder. The water was cool and the shade was a nice relief, so we took a few minutes to stand beneath the stream. I accidentally stepped in the pool, but my soaked boot dried out in less than a minute. That dry air sucks the moisture out of anything.
As we climbed up onto a larger boulder to continue the trail, we ran into a middle-aged man sitting next to a sizable radio/GPS unit. He asked if we'd seen the bighorn sheep on the ridge but, unfortunately, we did not. He gave us a few tips for the trail, and seemed to know every step by heart. When Will asked how many times he'd done the trail, he casually replied "oh, probably a few hundred times."
Turns out he was a wandering naturalist studying the bighorn sheep in the canyons nearby, but as soon as I heard the phrase "wandering naturalist," I was sold. We sat and talked for a little while, talking about the park's sheep and the hidden waterfall in Hellhole Canyon. As you know, I'm a sucker for history on my hikes, but it turns out a biology/geology combo works just fine, too.
So we got our learn on and continued a short hike up the trail to the waterfall and third oasis. The tree cover here was lush, and provided lots of great cool shade. The water sprinkled in a steady stream into a shallow pool, and the canyon walls were covered with moss and vines.
While we were only a few hundred yards from the desert, this tiny oasis felt like a world away. It definitely reminded me more of hikes in the Oregon forests than any of the other desert trails I've done. We took advantage of the scene, removed off our shoes and relaxed, listening to the gentle sounds of the falling water, gently puncturing the desert silence.
Thankfully, I was able to convince my buddy Will from Attack of the Show and his friend Renee to come along with me. Solo hiking is great, don't get me wrong, but when you're wandering the desert for a few days, it's nice to have company. Especially company that's as excited about running around outside as you are.
I'll try to divide this excursion into blog-digestible bits for ya.
I picked up Will and Renee around 6:30AM on Saturday and started the drive down in the pre-vacactioner open freeways. The drive was pretty uneventful, but man - no matter how many times I drive through California, I'm always surprised with just how incredibly rural it gets when you start leaving the cities. Not even 90 minutes outside of Los Angeles, you start hitting towns under 10,000 people. Closer to the park, even less - we passed through a few towns and unincorporated villages with less than 200 people ... one such town's city limit sign read "population: 197 friendly people, 2 or 3 grouches."
We eventually arrived at the park's entrance and descended from the lush coastal ranges down into the desert, taking some time to visit the visitor center to bug some of the rangers with questions ... like what trails are the least crowded, and which of the dirt roads wouldn't destroy my Honda Accord.
We also found out from the rangers that Anza-Borrego has what is probably the most liberal set of park rules anywhere. Hiking off trail is permitted, there are no entrance fees, camping at primitive campgrounds is also free, and if that doesn't work, you're allowed to camp anywhere in the park as long as your car is a full length off the road. All they want you to do is keep your fires in metal containers, and that's pretty much it.
So we got information on the invitingly-named Hellhole Canyon, went outside, and promptly took off in the wrong direction. Hey, the desert is confusing sometimes. We made the best of it and scrambled up a short "warm-up trail" to a low peak before heading back to the car to get to the trailhead.
The first section of the trail wound its way through your standard low desert scrubland. Not necessarily much to look at, although we were treated to a few scattered blooming yucca plants and ocotillo cacti. That's one of the things I really like most about the desert - there is actually a lot of color and diversity going on, you just have to keep your eyes open for it.
As the canyon walls closed in on us from either side, the trail started following a shallow, broad wash imprinted in the sand. The boulders that washed down from previous rainstorms let us break up the monotony with some light scrambling, and we eventually reached the first oasis. Basically a small group of two or three short palm trees and some brush, it merely encouraged us to keep hiking further into the canyon.
We started seeing a small trickle of water in the wash before the second oasis, and the plant and wildlife increased dramatically. Thicker palms, ferns and vines huddled around both sides of the stream, just a few feet away from the crackling desert. I spotted a kingsnake under some rocks we were hiking across, and we let it pass undisturbed.
Further in the second oasis, we found a small trickle of water slipping through a crack in a boulder. The water was cool and the shade was a nice relief, so we took a few minutes to stand beneath the stream. I accidentally stepped in the pool, but my soaked boot dried out in less than a minute. That dry air sucks the moisture out of anything.
As we climbed up onto a larger boulder to continue the trail, we ran into a middle-aged man sitting next to a sizable radio/GPS unit. He asked if we'd seen the bighorn sheep on the ridge but, unfortunately, we did not. He gave us a few tips for the trail, and seemed to know every step by heart. When Will asked how many times he'd done the trail, he casually replied "oh, probably a few hundred times."
Turns out he was a wandering naturalist studying the bighorn sheep in the canyons nearby, but as soon as I heard the phrase "wandering naturalist," I was sold. We sat and talked for a little while, talking about the park's sheep and the hidden waterfall in Hellhole Canyon. As you know, I'm a sucker for history on my hikes, but it turns out a biology/geology combo works just fine, too.
So we got our learn on and continued a short hike up the trail to the waterfall and third oasis. The tree cover here was lush, and provided lots of great cool shade. The water sprinkled in a steady stream into a shallow pool, and the canyon walls were covered with moss and vines.
While we were only a few hundred yards from the desert, this tiny oasis felt like a world away. It definitely reminded me more of hikes in the Oregon forests than any of the other desert trails I've done. We took advantage of the scene, removed off our shoes and relaxed, listening to the gentle sounds of the falling water, gently puncturing the desert silence.
that one guy you know, 8:34 PM
| 
| 
| 
| 
| 
| 
| 
| 
|
| | | | | | | | |
3 Comments:
Your hike so far sounds amazing. What a great way to spend a weekend.
Did you happen to get a picture of the sign that read "population: 197 friendly people, 2 or 3 grouches." because I'd love to see that.
Did you happen to get a picture of the sign that read "population: 197 friendly people, 2 or 3 grouches." because I'd love to see that.
Casey...when you saw this:
"... one such town's city limit sign read "population: 197 friendly people, 2 or 3 grouches."
Why oh why did you not take a picture? That is the coolest sign ever (and a potential place I'd live in California). They'd just have to add one grouch to the sign population.
"... one such town's city limit sign read "population: 197 friendly people, 2 or 3 grouches."
Why oh why did you not take a picture? That is the coolest sign ever (and a potential place I'd live in California). They'd just have to add one grouch to the sign population.
The pictures that you took look amazing.
I am officially jealous of you. Sure, I can (and do) go camping in Wisconsin, but it is kind of flat and boring here. :)
I am officially jealous of you. Sure, I can (and do) go camping in Wisconsin, but it is kind of flat and boring here. :)
