John Muir contended that repose in raw nature — or a near-wilderness zone — intensifies the individual’s spiritual awareness and vigor. We may head down to the sea or race up into these foothills, but we’ll know that either route can focus our mind-control powers. With steady duration, these extraordinary experiences help us (temporarily) constrict our linear left hemisphere (brain) and consequently expand the right hemisphere’s creativity.
In this way, we travel metaphorically — and not down this Manzana — from Athens to Jerusalem, where the Greeks represent reason (Aristotle) and the ancient Jews symbolize radical monotheistic faith (and revelation). We must tread even deeper into the aesthetic intertidal zone lying between Lascaux (paleolithic age rock art) and the Louvre (4.1.1. Books).
The individual’s more creative right hemisphere exploded in many directions after 50,000 BCE, and we can imagine a more dynamic spirit striving to leave the stone age cave (and “cave” of the group mind).
Thousands of years later, after the western Renaissance and Enlightenment, the ever-questing scientific mind achieved and invented so much that it became besotted with its successes (and managing to have 7.5 billion humans on the planet at one time).
Equally, some of us 21st-century Anthropocene types may also be lonely given these linear left hemisphere “successes” and become socially depressed. Iain McGilchrist demonstrates that the right hemisphere should be the “master” over the limited and linear left brain in his seminal book “The Master and Its Emissary” (4.1.1.).
I’m trying to relax an overstuffed mind from the city and Internet and the constant quarreling of our early Anthropocene, so I’m hiking the 2.7 riparian miles “down” beside barely flowing Manzana Creek as we enter the San Rafael Wilderness.
After driving the 49 miles from Santa Barbara (4.1.1. Directions), we pass empty Davy Brown Camp, ford the first of two brand-new concrete bridges, and after another mile park at the second of the fabulous fish-friendly structures.
This is the trailhead for an easy amble to enticing Coldwater Camp on Manzana Creek. I’ve seen 25 cars parked here comfortably, but today only a single lonely white truck stands on the dirt embankment.
At the well-marked trailhead, you will see three major signs: one welcoming you to the 190,000-acre San Rafael Wilderness, another guidepost informing you about fire conditions (no fires!), and finally an older wooden sign (shown here) with specific data you need: This Lower Manzana [Creek] Trail (30W13) runs through Potrero Camp (it’s closer to two miles than the “one” posted), Coldwater Camp (less than the three miles indicated in the photo), and finally down to Manzana Schoolhouse (at least 10 miles).
On most of this hike, we skip along close to the watercourse so there’s little chance to lose the trail, and the beckoning path is ideal for younger children and novice hikers.
Enhancing that “oceanic feeling” while walking, one begins to relax the overworked and hyper-anxious urban mind. Even with his manifest flaws (e.g., he was a racist), venerable Muir displayed a wondrous American pantheism — his belief that God is fully embodied in this nature we see before our eyes each day we’re outside. I beheld divinity along dying Manzana Creek’s slippery banks.
For long stretches there was no water at all, then along other spots the groundwater sprang back up and coursed by merrily (e.g. about a half-mile from Potrero Canyon Camp on the tramp in). The photo of a pool reflects how rare they were and often clogged with algae.
I wondered about trail usage midweek in earliest June, and my hiking partner and I encountered no other hikers going or coming, which selfishly was terrific. The gentle, cooling breeze made the heat less punishing, and I found myself wishing that more folks could come out (bring children and water!).
For trekking the gentle incline down to Coldwater Camp via scenic Potrero Canyon Camp (lead photo), we started the walk at 7:30 a.m., which is very important as heat — along with spiritual inspiration — intensified on the way back after 9:30 a.m.
The mercury rose to 85 degrees by 11:30 a.m., and all my sun-protection gear became essential. Buggy season is upon us, but so long as we kept moving their attacks were minor: I had two big deerfly bites but no poison oak, which was rife.
This day hike works well for children and adults who haven’t day hiked in a federal wilderness area (or, not often). The trailhead signage is very clear, and the level terrain follows the creekbed and involves plenty of easy creek crossings. Water is quite low in the drought, so we never got our feet wet. The mixed oak and gray pine dotted every meadow with pools of welcome shade.
Striding across a huge narrow potrero (meadow) termed Long Potrero, nature’s song mesmerizes the meandering biped, and he recognizes the power of Muir’s point that immersion in raw nature proffers a direct perception of God (or whatever term pleases you, dear reader).
This invigorating perception enhances the organic brain’s more creative right hemisphere. Muir wasn’t a Christian or even a monotheist, but he’d accept replacement terms like Spirit(s), Forces, Primal Energy, Divine Ground … sterile argumentation over “name and form” are nauseating as well as meaningless.
Coldwater Camp sits in a very large scenic potrero, and the camp has been moved here after the torrential rainfall blew out another site in 1969. There are three available overnight sites (firepits and tables; no open fires). I like the one with the red table and its close proximity to seeping Manzana Creek.
On June 2, there were no backpackers at either Potrero or Coldwater camps, and it’s likely there were no other humans all the way down the fabled Manzana past Dabney Cabin and even historic Manzana Schoolhouse.
4-1-1
» Directions: Drive north on Highway 101 and take the Chumash Highway (154) into the hills, past Cachuma Lake, and turn right at the Santa Ynez River concrete bridge on Armour Ranch Road. Drive a mile and turn right again on Happy Canyon Road. Drive to the second new concrete bridge (if you got to Nira Camp, you have gone one mile too far; turn around).
» Books: Iain McGilchrist, “The Master and His Emissary” (Yale 2012); Leo Strauss, Athens/Jerusalem book. The ancient conflic called “Athens versus Jerusalem” was not only about reason vs. faith, but was also about the idea in “Athens” of a pre-ordered universe vs. the idea in “Jerusalem” of the creative spontaneity of God’s self-sufficient will. Leo Strauss and many others have written about this tangled web, including Isaiah Berlin in his “The Crooked Timber of Humanity” (1990), pp. 1-19. J.M. Faragher, California (Yale 2022).
» Map: The best map is Bryan Conant’s 2015 edition of “San Rafael Wilderness Trail Guide and Map.”
— 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.
