Sespe Connect Stage III, Piedra Blanca to Fillmore. 10/13-14/12

The dreaded "Alpine Start". Walking at 04:00.

Back to work and back in the drink. It's time for another installment of the Sespe Connect {Sespe Connect is a project that Jack Elliott and I have teamed for, the aim being to walk the entire length of the Sespe watershed}. Time to knock off the big stretch, the 32+ miles separating Piedra Blanca and Fillmore.This stage traverses the real Sespe backcountry and 19 of those 32 miles we spent hop-scotching the creekbed. We had both been looking forward to this most remote and native portion of this 65 mile river system. In the end, we flashed through the thing in just 49 hours.

To see Stages I and II trip reports:

Sespe Connect Stage I 

Sespe Connect Stage II 

Click on any image to enlarge.

Ruth dropped me and Jack at the PB trailhead at 03:50 and we were strapped in and got going at exactly 04:00. It was a double dark morning with no moon to speak of. Just the stars overhead and the long tunnel of light from the headlamp. We soon hit our stride and the miles started falling away as we hiked toward the east. Unlike any of our work on this project, this early portion of Stage III sticks to a trail, the Sespe River Highway (Trail), and we made the most of the early hour and easy terrain.

Not quite sunrise.

Sespe/Ladybug Junction.

Soon the sun was on the way up and we were able to stow the headlamps and pick up the pace even a bit more. We just flew down that trail. We passed through Willet Camp/Willet Hot Springs (9miles from TH) at 08:15, and continued on for a bit before taking the first real break of the day. We sat in the sun and had a bit of breakfast before continuing eastward. 

Our plan had never been to do anything other than our stated goal, so skipping on past the hot springs at Willet didn't cost us. Of course this means that I still have never visited these hot springs, but if they are like others in the SLP, (sulfery, algae filled, muddy and buggy, too hot or too cold) then I can take a pass (as in all things, I prefer the Sierra). Besides, we had places to be, things to do. Onward to Coltrell Flat and our departure from the Sespe River Trail.

Passing through Willet, which lies on the north side of the creek.

Coltrell Flat.

After a half hour Jack and I saddled up and knocked out the remaining few miles to Coltrell, passed by the flat and continued east on the connector trail that continues over to Alder Creek. At the point where that trail starts climbing up and out of the Sespe, we did the opposite. We turned down the Sespe and started hopping rocks and busting brush (though we didn't really have to deal with a lot of brush, especially when compared to the previous two sections of the Sespe that we've completed).

Jack, trying to stay "feet dry".

It was almost a relief to be off-trail. Off-Road. No trail. It felt good to be back in the sticks, back in the drink. We had, I think, become pretty accustomed to the Sespe and it's aquatic tricks and I had always looked at the Sespe River Trail as more of an obstacle to be eliminated as quickly as possible than a truly enjoyable and easy stretch of our project. I was happy to be back on rocks and water. We had put down 13 miles before 11:00 and about a mile down the creek from our put-in we decided to take a siesta. We took a noon lunch on a shaded sandbar after which we both found places to curl up and get a bit of shut-eye. The entire plan that we had pre-formulated proposed getting as far as the junction where the Alder meets the Sespe on the first day. Any extra mileage on the day's clock would be gravy. We took our nap about a mile upstream of that junction and I figured on pulling a few more miles out of the hat before late afternoon. We got going again at 2pm.

Fossil seashells.

A bit recharged after our nap, it was time to strap in for another leg of our day. It took some time but eventually we reached, and skipped past the Alder Creek Canyon. We didn't pull out to investigate whether there was any flow dripping down the Alder (I wouldn't count on it until we get a good rain). We continued downstream, mostly hopping rocks but almost as frequently using the hundreds of braided game trails that follow the creek. We saw a fair bit of bear sign and about a zillion deer tracks. There are places along this portion of the Sespe where one could argue that a use trail once existed, but that trail has been largely wiped out and what little remains is predominantly used by wildlife. It's a pick your own path, make your own way kind of drainage. So that's what we did.

Eventually the shadows grew long and we decided we'd had enough for one day. We took another break in the afternoon heat, during which we spotted a condor (too big to be anything else). We had a quick discussion about our plans for the evening before we got going again, that plan being to continue on until we found a comfortable place to camp for the night. And no further. I conservatively calculated our 1 day mileage at around 17. It was time to call a halt and save some juice for tomorrow.

We found our site shortly after deciding we were done for the day. Our camp was just a small sandbar on the creek next to a long and deep pool. There was an old, minimalist campfire ring and a stack of ancient deadwood at the site. This'll do. We dropped pack and went for a swim before doing any housework. It had been a great day, time to clock out for the night. After the swim we set up and brewed some coffee. there was a fair amount of discussion regarding the day's travels but our chatter generally tilted toward what we thought might be in store for us on the morrow. We each prepared simple meals and passed on a campfire. As the light fell we were treated to the evening bat show, little fellas carting and wheeling against a darkening sky, their sonic clicks echoing up and down the canyon. As night came we spotted a couple satellites and a few shooting stars. We were woken in the middle of the night by a loud and substantial rockfall just across the creek.

Me and my one luxury, the Crazy  Creek chair.

The pool at our sandbar camp.

Sandbar Camp.

We rose shortly after six and started packing up between sips of coffee. No doubt the day would be hard. We had so far barely penetrated into the Lower Sespe and today would see the lion's share of route finding difficulties, not because a canyon is easy to get lost in but because the Lower Sespe is chock-a-block full of house-sized boulders. We just knew it was going to be a tough day. So, coffee please. 

Eventually we had medicated the creaks out and we figured we were feeling about as good as can be expected after the day we'd just pulled. The morning had already warmed to tee-shirt weather. It was going to be a hot one. Time to get going. We left our sand bar at 07:00 and commenced with day 2 right where we'd left off.

A long way down-canyon.

Jack and I picked our way down the canyon, hopping rocks and sloshing through pools, thrashing through the occasional stand of brush which we couldn't bypass. Early in our day 2 travels we spooked a family of five deer (3 females, one small and one big buck). They fled the scene singly and in pairs, climbing up a steep slope of the canyon wall to get away from us. One of the deer dislodged a very large rock which loudly cartwheeled down into the canyon. At this point I reflected back to the rock slide in the middle of the night. Perhaps, I theorized, we had a militant tribe of deer out for our skins. After all, it is hunting season in D-13 right now. Maybe they're looking for a bit of payback.

As we descended we ran across lots more bear sign. We heard hawks and owls. We startled a great blue heron several times, the kind of situation where he'd see or hear us and fly downstream a bit before we'd catch up and the bird was forced to fly away again. We saw an additional pair of deer lower down the canyon and startled something big behind a stand of brush. We saw fish and turtles and a little water snake. We ran across several families of ducks. There is a lot of wildlife in this canyon. I felt, somewhat jokingly, that we were trampling fragile aquatic ecosystems.

Our Day 2 proceeded pretty well. We kept at it, pushing downstream. At places the canyon narrowed considerably, though not to the degree that would earn the name "gorge". These narrows usually meant that we were getting in the water. Speaking of water, I think that both jack and I were a bit surprised by the amount and flow of water back in the deep Sespe. We never had to worry about finding water because unlike our previous time in the Upper and Middle Sespe, we were on or in it all day. We were able to slosh through many obstructions and though we found many deep pools, we never had to take our packs off to get through them. All in all I was pretty impressed by the amount of water back there.

Spot Jack for some scale.

Less than a mile upstream of where Tar Creek flows into the Sespe is a similar, but smaller canyon that drains into the Sespe from the east, and here is where we entered the Sespe Rock Garden. Finding a way through the next several miles of building-sized boulders was at times fun, at times frustrating. Most of the time we found a way around these boulders by getting out of the creek and skirting the edge between rocks and brush. We did do a fair amount of scrambling and wading when possible. I found this serving of creek to be a climbers' playground, crammed with miles of untouched stone. The remoteness of the locale and the effort required to get here is the only reason this stretch of river hasn't become a bouldering mecca. That, and the fact that most climbers are generally pretty lazy until they get to where they're gonna climb, has kept the central Lower Sespe relatively untouched. I may have to mount a multi-day exploratory commission.

The old hand-painted sign on what used to be Tar Creek Rd.

We passed under the outflow for Tar Creek. Unsurprisingly, there was no water coming down the falls. I did get momentarily distracted by the old Tar Creek road, which is historic and horrendously overgrown with poison oak. Don't need to see that one again. Continuing on we continued to encounter more gigantic boulders, more clear and deep pools, more twists and pinches in the canyon.The day grew hot and the sun blazed off the white sandstone slabs. We purposely began spending more time in the water as the temps rose and that helped offset the heat. We still made great time descending and we soon stopped in the shade at the outflow of the West Fork of the Sespe. A clear and tasty stream of water flowed down this fork and I took advantage of the opportunity to refill my water (I very seldom use a filter and almost never carry one, which I don't recommend for anyone else but not filtering has worked flawlessly for me for years. I think it comes down to wisdom and common sense.).

A look upstream from below Tar Creek.

After a nice break at the West Fork we continued our unending slog down-canyon. By this point we had passed through the "Rock Garden" and were banging out the last stretch to Devils Gate. Eventually we were able to identify Cold Water Canyon coming off Bear Haven from the west. There was good clean flow coming down this little canyon. Once past that drainage we were entering the Devils Gate, which is just another narrows on a spectacular stretch of river that is full of such sights. Before long we were through the Gate and our creek hung a left to the east. We dropped out of the canyon and followed the river down a broadening wash.

Just passin' through.

A look upstream from within Devils Gate.

Finally we had made it to the lower-lower Sespe. The way out and the last miles of this stage. This portion of creek is somewhat monotonous and consists of more sand and more rocks. A final push led us to the big bend in the river where the Sespe angles straight south into Fillmore. We climbed up out of the creek and negotiated a couple of fence lines and one gate before we found ourselves on the pavement of Goodenough Rd. All done with Stage III. We dropped pack and I dug out my phone, but of course it wouldn't be that easy. We put our packs back on and walked another half mile before I could get service. A quick call to Ruth to come get us and this time the packs came off for real. We lay in the shade on the side of Goodenough for the next 40 minutes and then it was milkshakes at McDonald's. Another fine piece of work completed.

A view of Hopper Mountain from below Devils Gate.

Bear print in sand.

I'm pretty pleased with myself and Jack should be too. This was a tough piece of work to pull off in two days, but well worth the visit. We must have personally touched at least 250,000 rocks by the end of it, but the experience was totally enjoyable. What that place really needs is a few more decorative rocks.

Goodenough Ranch.

So that's it for Stage III. Coming down the pike will be the final tow installments. We've still got a bit of work to do before we can say we've walked the entire length of the Sespe. Stage IV will run from Goodenough Ranch through Fillmore all the way down to where the Sespe joins the Santa Clara River, and Stage V will be kind of like going out through the "in" door: Potrero Seco at the top of Hwy 33, the tippy top of the Sespe. We'll follow the creek down to where we started this whole thing, at Cherry Creek. Then and only then can we irrefutably say we know the Sespe.

Sespe Connect (Stage I), 08/15/12

Stillman in the sticks. photo:Jack Elliott.

Alright, let's break a champagne bottle on the bow of my latest brainchild, the Sespe Connect. Sespe Creek is a 60 mile watershed that starts at Potrero Seco a couple miles above Cherry Creek on Highway 33 and ends at the Santa Clara River below the town of Fillmore. Most of this stretch is a protected National Waterway and the Sespe is one of the only un-dammed, un-diverted rivers in Southern California. This Sespe Connect project is about linking the thing end-to-end, literally. This idea stared with a self-inflicted guilt trip. I have driven up Hwy 33 hundreds of times and on many of these rides I wondered what all lay in the creek bed just off the road. I'd ruminated on this long enough that it just kind of became a given that I'd have to undertake a downstream exploration, if only to satisfy my curiosity. I had to decide how far up the creek I wanted to put in, and I figured I'd end it at the Black Wall at Sespe Gorge or even as far down at Tule Creek. This is where the Sespe Connect idea sprang from; if I was gonna start at Cherry Creek and walk all that stretch, why not make it legit and just walk the whole river? 

I'd need a partner for this and I thought of Jack Elliott (link) first. He seemed to think about it for a little bit longer than normal before agreeing. I explained that the Sespe Connect was a side project, something to put together over some time. He was down for it and so we embarked on Stage I, the 8.6 mile stretch from Cherry Creek to Tule Creek. 

Jack Elliott, David Stillman. Sespe Connect (Stage I).

Here's the Stage I map, route in yellow.

Jack and I took off from Cherry Creek at 0800 and it was already a hot one. We walked a bone-dry creek bed for at least a mile before saw any sign of water. We could have been walking down any of a dozen seasonal drainages. The wash was wide and sandy, littered with cobbles. We encountered some of the usual stuff one might expect: shotgun shells, inanimate objects shot to shit, the occasional beer can with a bullet hole in it. A mile or two from our start we began encountering small stretches of mossy and muddy ground water and we proceeded into the green heart of a watershed in the throes of a severe dry-year crisis.

Blazing Star, Mentzelia laevicaulis

Prickly Poppy, Argemone munita. Originally misidentified as Matilija Poppy.

This 80 foot shale slide is clearly visible from Hwy 33.

This uppermost part of the stream (now that there was water) was a wall of overhead cat-tails so thick that the path of least resistance was to act like water. We weaved through these thickets using the deepest part of the creek as our guide. The reeds were so thick that we often couldn't even see our feet. We were soon covered in a neon yellow-green pollon that exploded from the smaller cat-tails. All it took was for us to brush one of the plants and poof!, we'd be hit with a blast of fine yellow dust that stuck in your nose and mouth and made your clothes look like you been in a yellow flour-fight (below). We further accessorized our pollon makeover with a general sprinkling of sticks, leaves, seeds, and unidentified organic matter.

Getting dusted on Hi-Grade pollon.

As you can see from the pictures above, the creek becomes a real waterway about a mile above the old Chorro Pack Station (which also used to be a stage stop where riders could change out teams and get a bite). We now walked entirely in the creek under a canopy of sycamore, maple and cottonwood. We scattered schools of little trout and frequently saw larger ones; we later saw two trout that measured in the 1foot range, give or take. We sloshed down an arbored path, glad for the shade and glad for the water. 

The old Chorro Station.

Eventually the trees gave way to open flats through which the creek travelled and thus did we. The creek here was broad and shallow, but definitely flowing.  We waded downstream, enjoying all the butterflies, dragonflies, fish, turtles and other critters of our local aquatic environments. I was out front for a fair bit of this walk and happened to be looking at the right times to see a couple different herons, and later a squawking duck flew off just above our heads. At one point I was out in front of Jack by quite a ways, walking down a shady water-lane when I heard something big and heavy snap off to my right. Then I heard it again, followed by several loud brush crunchings. Oho! We were not alone! I couldn't see what was happening just behind the ever-present wall of creekside reeds. I can tell you that I don't believe that a deer made all that noise. And it sure wasn't a person, I can tell you that. I opted not to investigate further.

Pretty pond.

Tweekerville. One of two homestead leases on this section of Sespe Connect.

Bunch grass in the creek bed.

Eventually the creek went back underground. This went on for at least a mile. We were back out in the heat. We walked sandbars and rocky shoals, saw a million more reeds. After a while we started getting to a section of the creek that I recognized from a previous exploration. At that time I'd been wandering in search of undiscovered bouldering (without a lot of luck). A short time later we entered an area called the Snake Pits (mile 33 from Ojai). This little gorge used to have a pair of long, deep pools. It was a popular area and one could jump from the rocks, swim laps, do a little over-water bouldering or catch some harmful UV-rays. A recent Mountain Gear catalogue had a picture of a guy slack-lining over the Snake Pits at sunset. The place was a bone dry channel of sand and gravel. No more swimming until the next big gully washer.

Fossils.

This fish had suffocated in a land-locked pool of stagnant water.

Dry creek bed.

More dry creek bed.

The Upper Snake Pits. Just a couple years ago this pool was deep and clear. You could jump from the rocks. 

The lower Snake Pits, bone dry and filled in with sand.

A mile or so below the Snake Pits we finally got to the junction of Potrero John Creek and shortly after that we saw the bridge at Derrydale Creek. Here we began encountering many of the larger rocks and boulders that had been missing upstream. I supposed that many of these boulders had washed down from the aforementioned creeks. We were back in the shade, sloshing merrily downstream when we passed under The Fortress and the Potrero John Wall: too hot for anybody to be out climbing today. We creek-slogged for another mile before reaching the Black Wall at Sespe Gorge, a place I know well. The water level gauge at the base of the wall read like a bad joke. We passed out of the early afternoon shade as we rounded the last big bend in before Tule Creek.

The bridge at Potrero John Creek.

Jack, Jack, Jack of the Jungle.

Jack and his silt wake.

The water gauge at Sespe Gorge (mile 31 form Ojai). I would guess that this is not good.

Sespe Gorge aka The Black Wall.

We found several warm sulfer seeps along the length of Stage I

For the whole story on this rarely seen snake-on-snake predation see: King Snake Kills!!!

We had two encounters with king snakes on this day, and one of the simply extraordinary. Jack and I got to witness a king snake straight up kill a garter snake and attempt to eat the larger garter (see link to story in caption above). Our second king snake was a long ebony and ivory beauty (think: piano keys).  I tried to pin him down but he was a quick and feisty adult, not having any of me. He slipped away easily, almost slithering over Jack's boots in his haste to get lost. I have mentioned before that king's are my favorite snakes and I felt doubly blessed by these experiences.

Jack and the King.

We continued toward the junction of the Sespe and Tule Creek, passing under a graffitied bridge and over to the east side of the 33. We climbed out of the creek and, in an effort to be thorough about this project, traversed under the rocky scarp that is high and left from the road when driving in the direction we were traveling. We didn't find much other than poison oak and cottonwood trees. We soon climbed out of the creek directly under where Jack had parked his rig.

So that's Stage 1 of Sespe Connect in a nut shell. I think we both had a fine day even if it wasn't the blood bath murder day we've both come to expect when out in the sticks together. And that's okay (once in a while). Stage 2 will be from Tule Creek to the Piedra Blanca Trail head, another brushy creekfest through Middle Sespe. And now I've also shared this idea with all of you, and if you feel like giving it a shot, knock yourself out. I only own the idea, the rest of this is teamwork and I've got a great off-road partner in Jack. We've both got other projects in the works (some joint) so stay checked in. We'll keep it coming. 

Sespe Creek at Tule Creek, and the end of our day.