Once again, we’re joyfully hiking down the Manzana, then angling up the Hurricane Deck’s steep western slopes (see photograph). This notorious Hurricane Deck formation in the San Rafael Wilderness gleams crazy green ahead on May 2 as we ascend the enchanting Potrero Canyon Trail (see 4.1.1.).

Yes, the parking area at the Nira Trailhead was crowded, but people had been careful, and I saw little trash. All of the hikers and backpackers were ambling up and down the 17 miles of surging Manzana Creek, replete with its fish and turtles, birds and coyotes, racing roadrunners and cheerful horned toads. (Nobody was camping at the closed Nira Camp on May 2.) The short connector road from the first parking area (where Davy Brown Creek debouches into the Manzana) also had numerous carefully parked trucks and cars, so our planned 9-mile jaunt became a 10-miler since we had to park at the official Nira Trailhead.

Despite the encouraging plethora of backcountry enthusiasts on the trails, I correctly reckoned that few of these gnarly backpacker folk would choose the very demanding Potrero Canyon Trail cutting up from the lower Manzana Creek Trail at Potrero Canyon Camp. (All three sites at the Potrero Canyon Camp were occupied.)

The uphill trail tracks higher and higher above Potrero Canyon as you move into much drier terrain with scraggly and bunched hard chaparral plants. Toyon and yucca abound, with plenty of white sage, and the last of the Blue dicks (broadiaea) barely holding on. Masses of shocking blue-pink Farewell to Spring wildflowers (Clarkia amoena) adorn the very steep slopes, and we debated how this northern California wildflower could be this far south.

My friends and I are teachers, so the iron sign with the smaller letters “Hurricane Deck Trail 3” revealed a massive iron “correction” above it, a sort of metallic strike-through below “Potrero Canyon Trail.”

I saw a lot of great young people outside and happy on the Manzana Creek Trail and at various camping sites. Some families had young children, and one adventuresome clan had backpacked the 9-mile Lower Manzana Creek Trail down to the Manzana Schoolhouse Camp and the Sisquoc River. A woman, man and three kids had managed it in just three days. The children were bubbling over and engaged us in cordial trail talk as their parents observed.

Congratulations to the U.S. Forest Service for allowing access into the San Rafael Wilderness at Nira and other trailheads. I saw many hikers, and some hardier backpackers, with tight backpacks (no hanging gear), determined grins and sturdy boots.

One young couple I met at the slanting and mysterious Negus Meadow near the top of the Deck told me they were going on to the top, then west all the way to the aforementioned Manzana Schoolhouse Camp. Impressed, I reminded them how far it is and that there is no reliable water on the Deck. They smiled at an old guy’s worry and said, oh yeah, they had deep canteens. I have hiked this backpacking trek, and found all the adobe on the apex incredibly sticky, making the trudge much more challenging — and horrible, really!

The 4- to 4½-mile hike up to green and glimmering Negus Meadow took me and my colleague 2½ hours, with a couple of breaks. I enjoy the almost metronomic rhythm of tromping uphill surrounded by wild grasses, chaparral and vibrant wildflowers moaning in color about the last of spring, and ever-alert for the occasional rattlesnake and looking for interesting centipedes and lizard lifeforms.

From the Manzana at Potrero Canyon to Negus Meadow, you climb almost 1,700 feet in 3 miles of relentless ascent. This was my most difficult day hike since getting sick last August, so it was a measure and, while utterly exhausted, I felt pretty ecstatic while lying on my back savoring oak-clad green Negus Meadow (“Negus Meadow” is marked clearly on Bryan Conant’s 2015 San Rafael Wilderness map and guide).

The unique slant of the Negus Meadow area, facing more northward and almost concave, leads to greater water retention and more luxuriant flora in this area. We sprawled out under oak canopies and devoured a tasty trail lunch — a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for me, and copious draughts of water. We clambered a bit in the rock shelters and contemplated pushing on another mile to the rounded apex of the western Deck, but honestly, there isn’t much there, and the green beauty in the Negus potrero lured us to stay and rest there.

Lying on your back in sweet grasses and staring at the azure sky stretching domelike above, your human eyes and awareness seek patterns and meaning, even when they aren’t there. As my eyes moved to the horizon, I gazed intently at various specific rock formations encircling this “king” or negus of backcountry meadows. In one contorted jumble, the overactive and exhausted “right brain” envisioned two human faces wrought in the stone. In the center-right of my photograph, can you see the man’s stern face with a strong nose and heavy left eyebrow?

Later, driving out homeward bound, I passed through scenic ranches below Goat Rock and marveled at the stunning contrast to Negus Meadow in the backcountry, but also at the COVID-19-stricken coastal town where humans suffer below.

4.1.1.

» You can enter the San Rafael Wilderness in the Los Padres National Forest through the open Nira Trailhead, 46 miles from Santa Barbara. Negus is a noun derived from the Ethiopian Semitic root ngś, meaning “to reign,” and biblically it means king or boss.

— 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 the Los Padres National Forest. He welcomes reader ideas for future Noozhawk columns, and can be reached at cazmania3@gmail.com. Click here to read additional columns. The opinions expressed are his own.

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