It is a strange and wonderful feeling to pick up fossilized seabed artifacts in dry, hot badlands mountains better than two hours drive from the coast. But on many days, when I’d find someone to cover Hook, Line & Sinker, my bait & tackle shop on Calle Real, I’d pack water and food and head for the Cuyama Badlands.
Heading east on Hwy. 166 out of Santa Maria, the Buckhorn in New Cuyama was a requisite stop for some good grub served with a smile at the last bastion of civilization. From here on out there were no restrooms, just thirsty bushes.
Some distance east of the intersection with Hwy. 33, Soda Lake Road leads north off Hwy. 166. Once back in a few miles, the terrain always me makes me heft my canteen and backup water bottle to make sure I don’t end up a parched skeleton somewhere on the fabled Carrizo Plain. The road is paved partway and then becomes a graded road which is usually passable.
Roughly 12 to 15 miles back in, I’d take side trails off to the left (or southwest) and work my way back in until I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. Hiking up to a hilltop I’d sit and gaze at the scenery. Off to the east a couple of miles the San Andreas Fault is apparent, forming a long low stress ridge through the valley floor. To the southwest are rugged and dry mountains.
Nestled up against the base of those mountains, of which Caliente Mountain is a high point, I parked my vehicle to start the steep climb into the high country for the area. There are some high ridges, canyons and small valleys that are not apparent from below. Most noticeably, there is very little sign of people having been around.
In those high canyons and little valleys, I’d begin scouring the ground carefully, and it usually didn’t take long to reach down and pick up the fossilized remains of an ancient shelled critter that once thrived on the seafloor, when last that area had been a seafloor.
I am not one to remove things from where I found them. Not that the fossils would mind, but somehow, they look more natural there than they would on my windowsill back home. I don’t really know why that would be, since I live by the sea and they are hours from the sea, but still, I leave them where I found them.
Strangely, there are a few meager water sources for the critters that manage to survive that arid terrain. By the time I’ve reached the high places, I have usually spooked a dozen jackrabbits, a couple cottontail, and in some years a covey of quail. I’ve seen coyotes watching me with obvious curiosity.
Trips like this have always kept me happy. There is still plenty to explore and enjoy in remote areas within a half a day drive from us. I like that.
