The pristine nine-mile portion of upper Manzana Creek glowed with exuberant mid-May wildflower displays as I backpacked toward picturesque White Ledge Canyon, shining with prickly phlox and fields of red penstemon.
Deep White Ledge Canyon begins about three miles beyond the big pools at Manzana Narrows Camp, and I wasn’t sure I could hike that far in a short three-day backpacking trip. Fecund nature certainly rained more abundantly along this riparian corridor section of the San Rafael Wilderness than on Figueroa Mountain or sun-facing Santa Barbara.
I made my first of many hiking ventures along the upper Manzana Creek Trail in the early 1970s when UCSB German Department friend Manfred showed me the way. In September 1973, we backpacked to the Narrows gorge and campsite seven miles up the verdant watercourse, and he caught some trout in the big pool there!
My amazement at the wild freedom of it all still animates my backpacking today, since I find nature immersion more exciting and necessary than ever in our decadent and discordant Anthropocene.
Four hiking friends stepped away from participating in this long-planned spring backpacking trip to “Manzana Camp” (one mile short of the Manzana Narrows campsite), hence I began hiking solo into the alluring Los Padres National Forest backcountry carrying 31 pounds of gear (see 4.1.1. for driving directions).
Anthropocene Age backpacking is tricky, so one has to continually change plans to match the changing landscapes of backcountry and friendships. White Ledge Canyon is about 10 miles into the San Rafael Wilderness, and trudging solo made me cautious, so I decided to make two overnights at Manzana Camp — six miles in.
I set forth from Nira Camp on May 15, having just read on May 14 that Santa Barbara County had declared May 15 the opening of the 2018-19 fire season. Great timing, Dan!
Whatever the details about moisture content and weather patterns, the U.S. Forest Service still listed the entire Manzana hiking area under the minimal Level I fire restrictions (open fires OK in closed fire rings with a valid wildfire permit, which is easy to obtain by clicking here).
Fearing glare and perhaps some heat, I had departed Santa Barbara at 4:40 a.m. heading up Highway 154 and stepped into the holy wilderness, fording Manzana Creek at Nira Camp by 6:30 a.m. It was a dark and cool morning — perfect for a modest six-mile backpacking trek.
The spectacular wildflower displays lining the trail ignite cognitive energy and a welter of new ideas. The colorful plants included jimson weed, Indian paintbrush, yellow bush poppies, purple lupine, masses of yellow monkey flower, ceanothus bushes shedding their “mountain snow” white blossoms, and Matilija poppies.
Birds chirp and squabble while Manzana stream waters gush vigorously, and I noticed an elusive “greater roadrunner” zooming madly ahead up our shared trail.
This cuckoo is a larger bird, reaching almost a foot in height, and can run up to 20 mph; its Latin name, Geococcyx californianus, simply means California earth-cuckoo, and it eats venomous snakes including small rattlers. I had never noticed one in this area before, although the Chumash had a name for it: p’up’u.
Storms and heavy rainfall from the 2017-18 winter have damaged some of the seven hiking miles to the Narrows, and it was with gratitude I observed the crucial trail maintenance work carried out by the Los Padres Forest Association in conjunction with the U.S. Forest Service.
The sections of trail just beyond Manzana Narrows Camp were quite sketchy in parts, and the LPFA trail maintenance project during the past two years on the upper Manzana Trail made it much safer hiking. Thank you to the LPFA team and Bryan Conant!
One often finds wilderness solitude on these forays into the San Rafael Wilderness, and since my hiking pals had dropped away, it was important to embrace this chance for silent reflection and unhurried meditation.
During the three days, I encountered exactly two other humans: older men like me, not unlike the guys I see at a Starbucks or Peet’s at 6 a.m. on a weekday.
On May 16, while dayhiking about four more miles up to White Ledge Canyon, I met the second gnarly fellow, and he told me the water at Happy Hunting Ground Camp was so poor that filtering was essential.
After passing through shady Manzana Narrows Camp with its waterfall on May 16, I ascended into what some call the “amphitheatre,” but Manfred and I had always termed “the Eastern Escarpment” of the Hurricane Deck.
The weird white sandstone caves and contorted rock formations in this area can draw one into endless explorations among the blinding white rocks. The peculiar solitude and exotic quiet play cosmic tunes in the neophyte’s awareness.
Out on the undulating soft sandstone cliffs, an urban seeker discovers mental repose, as well as time to consider new ideas and information.
Italian novelist Umberto Eco wrote prophetically about the “cellphone craze” back in 2005 when he asked if “we can still live without a cellphone?” He answered himself:
Given that “living with a cell phone” means a total acceptance of the here-and-
now and a frenzy of contact that deprives us of a single moment of solitary
thought … Anyone who cherishes their own outer or inner freedom should exploit
the many services [the cell phone] offers … but not the one for being called; then,
all you have to do is keep it switched off.
[page 78, Chronicles of a Liquid Society]
The white ridge above White Ledge Canyon has the blessing of feeling infinite, and stretches on and on, although my map tells me about some sort of historic mining operation over in Sulphur Spring Canyon.
Meandering around carefully, it was too far to reach the base of a huge block-like stone outcropping that displayed a bizarre white or “silvery” half-moon design, but I really wanted to learn whether it was quartz, or painted on somehow.
Although I ventured out into these ledges and cliffs for a few hours, wandering on my own, I chose not to continue farther along the meandering Manzana Trail leading to White Ledge Camp, my original impossible goal on a three-day backpacking trip. No need to switch off my cell since I’ve never owned or been owned by one of these exotic devices.
The iron sign above Manzana Narrows Camp accurately states that it’s another six miles to the Hurricane Deck Trail at White Ledge (White Ledge not named). You also read that the incredible wild and scenic Sisquoc River is just eight miles, and you might enjoy the trail cabin at South Fork Station, too.
Cellphone reception is happily very poor in the San Rafael Wilderness, and quite unreliable along the upper Manzana. Since every one of my friends is tethered to their miniature com device, excursions like this one are tough on their relationships.
Eco rightfully asserts that most of us have accepted the frenzy of contact that deprives us of solitude, and prevents those “oceanic moments” our spirits require. The digital enslavement begins with postmodern humans’ “total acceptance of the here-and-now” — our shackles are the ubiquitous screens large and small and rule our lives through aggressive algorithms.
Therefore, seize your children and take them to the local backcountry this weekend, or to a county park such as Nojoqui or the city’s Skofield Park, and simply hang out and slow down without electronics around or phones switched on.
Break bread together, play catch or Scrabble, chat with your kids, or head back to Nira Camp for overnight camping along the sparkling Manzana.
4.1.1.
» Driving: Highway 154 to Armour Ranch Road past Lake Cachuma, turn right at Happy Canyon Road and drive to the end at Nira Camp (46 miles). There is a $10 fee if parking at Nira, so park alongside the road just outside the Nira sign for free. Note: Fishing is illegal all along the Manzana and nearby Sisquoc watercourses.
» Umberto Eco, Chronicles of a Liquid Society (2017), page 78; available at Chaucer’s Bookstore.
— Dan McCaslin is the author of Stone Anchors in Antiquity, and has written extensively about the local backcountry. 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.
