Back in the day, I would avidly read about box canyons and “slot canyons” in western stories by Zane Grey, Louis L’Amour and Elmore Leonard, and these niche wilderness zones play well as scenes for tough going and exciting adventures.
The world’s greatest nature writer, Robert Macfarlane, quotes “Home Ground,” noting: “That rivers and streams seldom flow naturally in straight lines [which] is a gift of beauty; otherwise we would not have canyons that bear the shape of moving water” — like Potrero John Canyon, I say.
I have remembered stories about a shorter canyon hike out on the lonely Highway 33 — once termed “the Maricopa Highway” — about 20 miles past Ojai. This slot canyon would be ideal for a half-day jaunt and without being steep.
The Potrero John Trail (23W06) follows Potrero John Creek from its confluence with the Sespe River along a lush riparian path ending at a hidden campsite nestled beneath large live oaks — about 1.8 miles in and with less than a 600-foot elevation gain.
On a warm day in mid-July, wild Pete and I had our concerns about the fearsome heat boiling way out there “in the Sespe,” so we departed Santa Barbara at 5:30 a.m. (I know, I know) but managed to begin our easy hike by 6:45 a.m. amid cool shade and dense green foliage.
This pocket trail has an excellent sign on Highway 33, but make sure to watch for it right after driving over the Potrero John Creek concrete bridge.
There is parking here for only one larger vehicle or two small ones (4.1.1. Driving).
Begin from this parking space by clambering over a large rock jumble and entering the sinuous “box canyon.” As you set off, be aware that you will have to return the same way since the official U.S. Forest Service trail ends at Potrero John Camp.
After crossing the initial jumble, we found a wide and well-marked trail, which we rambled along ecstatically as we marveled at the abundant foliage.
A surprising number of larger trees grace the steep hillsides, including live oaks, alders, big-cone Doug firs and cottonwoods. We encountered blackberry brambles and California buckwheat, but also found the masses of poison oak rather treacherous.
I was happy I had worn my long trousers and long-sleeved shirt, but also remained on the trail for most of the hike.
The narrow, winding canyon featured an easy path that entailed frequent creek crossings. After about a half-mile, we noticed how Potrero John Creek began singing to us as it gushed strongly and brought an abundant water flow, raising our spirits.
One should avoid this trail after heavy winter rains, but we managed to keep our boots dry in July. (Bring your own water and purify any you choose to quaff from the stream.)
Sure, summertime weather in the Sespe backcountry has become justifiably infamous for the intense heat, but this canyon’s steep and shady walls retain some of its springtime allure as it retains the last signs of spring’s green eden.
After hiking a few hundred yards past the jumble, we entered the 220,000-acre federal Sespe Wilderness zone embedded in Los Padres National Forest.
The ginormous late 2017 Thomas Fire had burned through and around portions of the Sespe Wilderness and incinerated some of Potrero John Canyon.
I believe this is why the poison oak and fresh green foliage dominated in sections (more sunlight), and the why the tall oak tree in the lead photograph looks both old and new (new with resurgent leaves and boughs growing since 2017).
Wild Pete and I must have missed the USFS official Potrero John campsite since we went in at least 2.3 miles, although the Carey guide states the campsite is 1.6 miles in (4.1.1.). After about 1.4 miles, the trail more or less disappeared and we failed to detect the tiny “spur trail” up to the camping site.
After about 1.8 miles, we continued pushing through the mountain mahogany, yerba santa and thorny manzanita that grow along various sketchy paths near the noisy creek. We realized we had slipped into bushwhacking and halted after 2.4 miles.
At this point, intrepid hikers would leave their hiking poles and fanny packs to continue scrambling along the deep streambed and push on to the final goal: 4,700-foot Potrero John Falls, which is another gnarly half-mile or so.
I wanted to achieve that goal, but the rising temperatures, no trail to speak of, and the mid-July conditions combined to remind me that “caution is the better part of valor.”
We decided to return at a later date with the falls as the primary goal.
This should be an easy half-day hike, and it is, until the point to where the official trail vanishes so that hikers have to scramble, rock-hop, then get down low and occasionally crawl to cross through some huge fallen trees. Gloves would be useful during this section.
While it would be difficult to become “lost” in the box canyon, we were off-trail frequently after about 1.8 miles, and at times found wild Pete’s Garmin GPS device helpful in pointing the best way back.
Plan carefully for this hike, which is tougher than it first seems. Avoid super-heat days and hiking in the broiling Sespe afternoons.
We were back at the truck on the Maricopa Highway by 11:30 a.m., glad we had made this adventure and equally pleased to be departing as the mercury zoomed into the upper 80s.
Macfarlane understands how modernity has muffled us in crucial ways, writing: “As we have enhanced our power to determine nature, so we have rendered it less able to converse with us. We find it hard to imagine nature outside a use-value framework.”
For those neanderthals in Congress who want to sell off part of our public natural lands, come along with me into Potrero John to hear the water-music fill the soul and see flashing trout that tantalize the mind.
4.1.1.
Zane Grey’s “Riders of the Purple Sage” (1912) remains a classic; and The Library of America (No. 308) re-issued four of Elmore Leonard’s best cowboy stories in 2018 (you have to read “Waiting for Valdez”). Robert Macfarlane, “Landmarks” (2015), pp. 25-26.
Craig Carey, “Hiking & Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura” (second edition, 2021) has this hike as his Route 82, pp. 275-277; best map is Tom Harrison Maps, “Sespe Wilderness Trail Map.”