About to ford Manzana Creek at Nira Camp.
Mr. C and I stand ready with heavy boots while wearing old tennis shoes for the initial ford of Manzana Creek at Nira Camp. Credit: Peter Glynn photo

Over the years, hiking friends and I have explored Fish Creek Canyon several times seeking out scrambling adventures since there is no official trail.

We were bushwhacking along the little side creek, detecting turtles and fingerlings, and mostly searching for spiritual renewal and enlightenment. Lao Tzu says, “Nature does not hurry, Yet everything is accomplished.”

Fish Creek Canyon is a side canyon branching off from Manzana Creek at aptly named Fish Creek Camp, usually called Fish Camp. The woodland hike upstream from the Nira Camp Trailhead is an easy three miles, but we observed considerable trail erosion and damage (see below).

On a few past occasions, we have set out specifically in search of the fabled “mosaic camp” on Fish Canyon Creek, and while some tell me there was never such an encampment there in the 1970s, I had, in fact, visited the spot myself.

At a streamside sandy beach next to plentiful small white stones, fractured like Roman tesserae into tiny squares, someone with a LOT of time on their hands had laboriously laid a beguiling tile floor and kitchen area.

The backcountry masons had no grout, but a few darker stones created an intriguing design, and I would often find a handy stack of firewood pitched near the rustic camp with a crude fire ring.

One mighty sycamore towered over the picturesque bend in the creek, and a most useful wooden plank formed a place to sit. It felt like a captivating “stone age” home, not a temporary camp. 

Nature is red in tooth and claw and is also geologically quite destructive. Geologic time is vast, covering hundreds of millions of years, and even our own little Holocene Epoch has lasted almost 12,000 years.

I do not often observe huge geologic changes in the landscape, but we did on this venture.

Whenever Fish Creek Canyon and the Manzana receive heavy winter rainfall, the little free camps like the mosaic gem risk becoming blown out and may float away downstream.

Therefore, my eyes didn’t exactly bulge in astonishment on March 14 when the natural mouth to Fish Creek Canyon appeared at least fifteen times larger than on my visit in 2022.

In the April 1, 2022, photo that I reproduce here, it is clear that the narrow opening has expanded dramatically and that Fish Canyon Creek now flows at a frenetic pace in late winter.

Fish Canyon Creek near Manzana Creek in a photograph from 2022.
Fish Canyon Creek near Manzana Creek as seen in 2022. Credit: Dan McCaslin / Noozhawk photo

Streambed geomorphology in Southern California predicts these drought/flood cycles, and observing the flood cycle’s power is somehow invigorating.

Fish Canyon Creek is running at several times what the larger Manzana usually looks like. The flow rate far exceeds the average pace of the waters.

Moreover, this copious flow won’t last more than a few weeks. In the meantime, this backcountry is ready for spring backpacking!

The three-mile hike from Nira to Fish Camp going through seductive Lost Valley Camp  pulls visitors into the glamorous San Rafael Wilderness. The heavy winter had wreaked havoc with the Upper Manzana Trail (30W13), and there were a few places where I would have halted had I not brought the twin hiking poles.

I could tell that the trusty Los Padres Forest Association trail crews had been here quite recently, and they made several critical repairs that had not been evident in early February. Backcountry users have gratitude to these hardworking volunteers and LPFA.

The “wash” of tumbled rocks on both sides of the Manzana also had grown far larger in areas than even three months ago.

The Manzana Creek's wide riverbed wash looking south.
Manzana Creek’s wide riverbed wash looking south. Credit: Chris Caretto photo

Crossing these vast moonscapes of scattered boulders, smaller bushes and undulating ridges of rocks became tiring.

Here in these fords it is easy to get off trail — LPFA again assisted by placing occasional rock cairns at key locations and attaching a few crucial tags of red taffeta in tall bushes.

When I had to cross the meandering Manzana at Nira, I used the tiresome technique of switching shoes. The deepest ford is right at the beginning of the hike, so you see in the lead photograph Mr. C and me with heavy boots in hand while wearing old tennis shoes for the initial ford.

We simply leave the wet tennis shoes right on the trail, and pick them up at the end of our hike.

Fish Peak in the distance with a view of Manzana Creek and Fish Canyon.
Fish Peak in the distance with a view of Manzana Creek and Fish Canyon. Credit: Chris Caretto photo

I was back on the Manzana and into Fish Canyon Creek in the fall of 1973 with guru Franko, and at least a dozen times over the past several decades, so this flood that blew out the once-narrow entrance into Fish Canyon Creek attests to the power of our very thunderous winter of 2023-24. 

The hike required two hours to reach Fish Camp and look over the mouth of Fish Canyon Creek. It’s obviously too difficult to scramble on into Fish Creek, but it looked enticing. If someone wished to explore deeper into Fish Canyon Creek, they could plan an easy three-mile trek to Fish Camp (two fire rings and an outhouse), set up, then bushwhack into Fish Creek wearing wet tennis shoes, and without the backpack or even a fanny pack.

A large campsite at Davy Brown Camp.
A large campsite at Davy Brown Camp. Credit: Dan McCaslin / Noozhawk photo

4.1.1.

Driving directions to Nira Camp Trailhead: Highway 154 to Armour Ranch Road at the Santa Ynez River bridge. Turn right. In about two miles, turn right again on Happy Canyon Road (which becomes Sunset Valley Road) and drive to the end (Nira is two miles past Davy Brown Camp). It’s about 46 miles, or 90 minutes one way.

Note: No fishing is allowed in either the Manzana or in Fish Canyon Creek, and it is so posted.

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. The opinions expressed are his own.