Disappointed by the continuing Davy Brown/Nira trailhead closures, tiring of the heavily-trod frontcountry forest paths, and befuddled by recent smoke and ash, I cast my vision outward and landed on the exotic Piedra Blanca formation not far from Ojai.
Piedra Blanca Creek cascades down into this scenic canyon from a 6,000-foot U.S. Forest Service campsite called Pine Mountain Lodge, and where it drops into our Piedra Blanca Canyon we find a tiny and tangled campsite called Twin Forks (elevation 3,600), where I’ve had many an exciting backcountry adventure. In early November, two gnarly Crane School teacher-buddies and I trudged up the sinuous and enchanting Piedra Blanca Trail (22W03), technically known as the Gene Marshall Piedra Blanca National Historic Recreation Trail (see sign in photograph).
After driving 70 miles to the spacious Piedra Blanca Trailhead parking lot, we were crossing the arid but huge Sespe Creek riverbed by 8 a.m., and pleasant coolness bathed us as the mists began to burn off. (See 4.1.1. Directions.) Down in the extensive Sespe creekbeds, we found no water at all, not so surprising as we endure yet another drought. Is this perhaps just a step in the catastrophic mega-drought some have foreseen?
Twisty arroyo willows blocked our path at times, and I noticed many sycamores thriving along with bay trees and other underbrush, including masses of red poison oak in places. The three of us had chosen to cover the skin everywhere, thus long pants, long-sleeved SPF shirts, wide-brim hats, heavy boots, and gloves for bushwhacking up the dry watercourse.
Even though the three-mile trek to Piedra Blanca Camp has been well-maintained and well-used, on a Wednesday we never encountered any other humans — a godsend! Along with the relative solitude afforded by the harsh and dry climate, the threatening thorny chaparral and the native silence — fecund nature obliged a mental shift. Hiking steadily from 8 a.m. to 9:30 a.m. caused some hyperventilation and ecstatic feelings from the aroused endorphins and intense surrounding beauty, but something else had come into play. These animistic feelings imbue a sense of life or liveliness into every atom surrounding the silent striving hiker. The loss of this animism is part of the decline and dissolution of our culture today.
Whereas the larger Sespe was bone dry, once we delved into stony Piedra Blanca Creek water magically reappeared like manna. At first we could hear water flowing on rocks, and then the path soon looped alongside the water all the way to Twin Forks Camp itself. This rugged site has a firepit but no table or any other amenities (just one level tent-spot).
Charles Foster writes about the mystical loss of magic nature as the European Enlightenments rationalism saturated the western worldview:
Almost every human in the world, until the seventeenth century CE, assumed that
the world as a whole, and every little thing in it, from pebbles to whales, has some
sort of consciousness. [p. 73; see 4.1.1. Books]
British author Foster seems shy about plainly stating that this loss is the much-discussed animism that we know forms the basis of all the later world religions. Animism is the essential pre-religious attitude toward “the world” (physical reality), which wiser Stone Age humans realized was jam-packed with life — yet animism avoids the power and inevitable corruption of the later organized complex religions. (This is the theme of my book “Trails Into Tomorrow.”) Once we get to some of the dominant monotheistic world religions like Islam, Christianity and Judaism, we’ve left pure animism far behind, languishing happily in the dust of pre-history and the glory of the luxurious Stone Age lifestyle.
The enormous Piedra Blanca campsite is mainly used by horse groups, or larger tribelets of Boy Scouts and trail maintenance volunteers. I haven’t overnighted at this site, and the water there is copious but requires filtering if you plan to drink it. I’d toted three liters of good water along with a substantial lunch for our rest at Twin Forks Camp.
From Twin Forks Camp (the site is across the stream through some overgrown patches in the running creek), we chose to sidle off-trail and try to reach subalpine Pine Mountain Lodge Camp by clambering directly up Piedra Blanca Creek itself. By studying the Harrison Sespe Map (4.1.1.), you see the official USFS Trail 22W03 ascends 2,400 feet in a cruel three-mile trek swinging wildly east. I’ve managed this feat, but it’s a brutal slog and not this time!
After downing some of our gear and eating at Twin Forks, we began to crawl and clamber directly up Piedra Blanca Creek. After about 100 slow yards bushwhacking amid the scattered rocks, I realized how stiff and unlimber I was — dang!
At 74 years of age — not shy to admit it! — my task climbing over boulders and ducking under fallen timbers and stepping through shallow pools seemed to me more arduous than for my two friends. But they’re only in their 60s and qualify as young men. Thus, while still on Joseph Campbell’s ridiculous hero’s journey, I chose caution over valor (and hubris), and laughingly turned back. My new role was to guard our piled gear at Twin Forks, although it was a laughable conceit since we never saw any other hikers. (The hiking poles, daypacks and extra water would only be impediments on the creek-scrambling section.)
While they heroically bushwhacked enmeshed in the creek’s complex embrace, a Hydra of boulder-heads and ill-placed pools and low-hanging trees, I managed to fall asleep at Twin Forks for almost 90 minutes. The music from the rushing creek, bird cries all about, lizards rustling in the dirt … deep time reflection ensued and it became delicious to do nothing.
Just as Gary Paulsen describes solo survivor Brian’s enhanced vision and increased capacity for attention in his great book “Hatchet,” my ear detected many layers of sound emanating from the area of Piedra Blanca Creek. Dragon flies, small gnats, an occasional bird, hummingbirds and swooping wing sounds are heard above. Since I’d planned for this eventuality, I could lay flat on my unfolded light rain jacket and use the very small fanny pack as an awkward pillow.
Unable to make it to Pine Mountain Lodge, my friends returned in a couple of hours battered and bruised but extraordinarily happy.
On the way out, we noticed a standing boulder that revealed pounded out “cupules” on the top, likely from pre-Contact times. Returning through the exotic piedras blancas rocks section, we realized why the Stone Age indigenous peoples believed these boulders had sentience and were aware and conscious.
We wended our way, dropping down to the dry Sespe River, then climbed up to the official trailhead and our truck by 2 p.m. On this entire hike there and back again, almost seven miles, we never encountered any other humans. In any case, just the sight of my two camping pals after their creekbed clambering might have frightened anyone we could have met.
4.1.1.
» Directions: Tom Harrison’s “Sespe Wilderness Trail Map” covers this hike. Drive Highway 101 south to Ventura, take Highway 33 to Ojai, continue along the Maricopa Highway (Highway 33) to the Rose Valley turnoff and drive to the end where it meets the large Piedra Blanca Trailhead parking lot.
» Books: Charles Foster, “Being Human” (2021); Gary Paulsen, “Hatchet” (1987); Dan McCaslin, “Trails Into Tomorrow” (2021, Lulu.com): Chapter 12 on the need for renewed Neo-Animism..
— Dan McCaslin is the author of Stone Anchors in Antiquity and has written extensively about the local backcountry. His latest book, Autobiography in the Anthropocene, is available at Lulu.com. He serves as an archaeological site steward for the U.S. Forest Service in Los Padres National Forest. He welcomes reader ideas for future Noozhawk columns, and can be reached at cazmania3@gmail.com. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
