The TWO?!? Harris Tunnels?!?, Red Reef Trail

First off, I want to say that I'm so friggin' happy to be back on my feet that I want to do a little happy dance. But Homie don't dance, so instead I did 20 miles. Ha! Take that influenza virus!

Like most men I'm an absolute child about being sick. I hate it. Every sniffling minute of it is one big pity party.  But that's behind me now and to celebrate I bring you all an interesting riddle, one discovered quite by accident, as fortune would have it.

Apparently there are two (!) Harris Tunnels!

I did not know this.

Before I get to the Tunnel stuff I have to mention a few things about the day. Basically, the morning was glorious. Not surprisingly the Piedra Blanca/Sespe trailhead was packed with vehicles. I pulled into the last available slot and left the lot at 0700. Within a mile I was feeling perfect, just humming along. The sun was coming up, cresting the ridges downstream. Little birds were fluttering about, chirping. The morning air was brisk enough to require a little extra insulation. A quiet rushing noise rose from the creek on my right. A gentle sunrise breeze rose. The morning crystal clear. Things were as good as could be.  

I trucked right through the early miles, looking forward to reaching the junction at Bear Creek, where the Sespe Trail stars getting really scenic. Along the way I noticed numerous tents camped in the many unsanctioned sites sprinkled along the length of the creek. Here and there a thin streamer of smoke would curl out of the cottonwoods as I silently passed early risers. Clearly there were many, many people camping along the river this morning.

Eventually I reached the stretch of trail that crosses back to the north bank and starts a repetitive cycle of gently looping climbs and dips that circle around low shoulders of the hills above. Atop each little rise was a fresh view of the dramatic landscape ahead. It's easy for me to forget how pretty this stretch of country can be, how colorful the geology, how brightly the early sun beams off the serpentine curves of the Sespe. Eventually I reached the junction for the Red Reef Trail. I crossed the Sespe heading south and started up the tight little canyon which that trail ascends.

About a mile up the trail the canyon narrows dramatically, framed on either side by steep bands of red sandstone. The trail runs next to a small stream and sunlight dapples through the oak trees and occasional spruce. The canyon gets even tighter and around a twist in the trail one approaches what everyone knows as the Harris Tunnel.

This unusual feature was necessitated by the geology of the canyon. Over time the little creek had eroded a notch for itself in a huge, upthrust strata of sandstone. For the creek this was a completely sufficient solution but getting horses through the rocky creek would be a non-starter. The answer to this problem came in the form of drill holes bored in the rock on the east side of the problematic creek, these holes being packed with a judicious amount of dynamite or blasting powder. The result is a brief tunnel about 8ft high and 8ft wide. A rider would have to dismount and lead the horse through but otherwise the problem had been solved.  

This project was completed in 1907 by TJ Harris and RJ Harris. Says so on the wall of the tunnel, chiseled in their own hand. Another fun fact, there is an old site in Middle Sespe called the Harris Ranch, clearly the two are related. And that should be it right? Not so fast...

The south facing view of Harris Tunnel.

Harris Tunnel, looking north.

I stopped for a late breakfast at an open spot on the creek, got bored, and started doing what I'm programmed to do, which is to start poking my head in holes and scrambling over rocks and busting through brush and generally being a boy. An hour later I was a couple hundred feet up the east slope of the canyon wall when I spied what really looked to me like an old trail. Hmm. I dropped down a little bit and yeah, this wasn't some animal track. This was a real trail. Or, as I found out, remnants of a real trail. I picked up the path and started following it north toward the Sespe. It was overgrown and perilously washed out in places but a few minutes later I rounded a turn and twenty feet away was another tunnel. A big, round tunnel through red sandstone. I was a bit surprised to say the least. From this distance I could even see the marks left by the rock drilling for blasting. I wandered over to this feature and had a look see.

The first thing I did was walk through the tunnel and out the other side. I followed the forgotten trail a bit until it became impassable before returning to my find. First, this tunnel was actually two arches of rock. I concluded that the center of the roof had caved in at some point and made a natural skylight. Again I noted the bore holes. Unlike the Tunnel everyone agrees is "Harris Tunnel", this one didn't have any names chiseled into it, though I did find this one to be the more architecturally and esthetically pleasing to the eye. Pretty dang cool if you ask me.

Here's what I'd like to know: does anybody out there know the story behind this second tunnel? It's just a guess but I'm pretty sure this tunnel precedes the one on the Red Reef.

The "other" Harris Tunnel.

After that I couldn't think of anything else to do here so I went back down to the Sespe. It was so pretty in the creek there that I was reluctant to just cross and get back on the highway-like Sespe Trail. Besides, I could hear people on it from a quarter mile away. Sounded like it was crawling with tourists. I decided to stay in the creek for a while and avoid the masses. The day was warm by now and I stopped to splash my face and take in the sights. I'm glad I did because I was most of the way back to Bear Creek by the time the creek forced me back up to the main trail and into a mass of trudging troglodytes, slouched over with ill adjusted packs, yammering about how being in the great outdoors is so stress relieving. Blechh!

I'm not exaggerating when I say that on my way out I passed at least seventy (70!) people on the trail! I'm not exaggerating because I was counting heads and gave up at seventy! By my estimate there were probably close to two hundred people strung out along that trail and planning on an overnight stay. Probably a hundred people fighting over dipping a toe in the single pot of scummy, sulphury water at Willet Hot Spring. Ahh well, I'm sounding curmudgeonly. Must be my age or something. Pretty good to be back at it though. Take care. See you out there. And don't get that virus that's making the rounds, it's bad for your health.

Trout Creek, Round 3

Really, there's not much left for me to say about Trout Creek, that unpleasant and overgrown minor drainage which has occupied far too much of my time of late. It is rare when I'll divulge the reasons behind an exploratory recon, especially when there's a possibility that such intelligence gained might result in a larger "win", but since I am now pretty convinced that this idea of mine isn't worth doing I'll go ahead and spill the beans: 

I've been looking for a direct way to ascend the south face of Thorn Point, in a day.

I think I could probably do it, but it would likely be dangerous, would require a partner and a second vehicle at Thorn Meadow, and I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be "fun". I've learned through these explorations that Trout Creek has a deficit of redeeming qualities. I think I ought to shelve this idea, for a while at least. My hit list has too many other interesting ideas to justify spending any more time on this project.

The South Face of Thorn Point

Devils Gate and Environs

Some days are just for exploring. 

It can be awfully nice not to have a stated goal, just to go see what's what and come home with sore legs and some nice pictures.

Downstream of Devils Gate.

Devils Gate on the Lower Sespe marks the end of wilderness on that waterway. I'd say that the Sespe from Alder Creek to Devils Gate is the only true and untrammeled wilderness along it's entire length. Chalk that up to it's rough and remote nature, I've been through there a few times, but on those prior occasions I was generally too thrashed to pay much attention to my surroundings. The Sespe between Tar Creek and Devils Gate is somewhat tiring and difficult to navigate due to thousands of gigantic boulders. Good route finding skills can spare the traveller a lot of effort but it's a tough stretch whichever way one goes. I call this stretch of habitat the Sespe Rock Garden, and there are some truly titanic examples in there. I'm going to have to schedule a day to go back and just shoot artsy black&white photos of rocks and water.  This is also prime real estate for many species of migratory waterfowl, and this day's showing was good. Somehow the water levels are holding up, the pools are deep, and the many small cascades are still kicking, the trout still swimming.

Devils Gate from upstream.

I was joined on this day by a fellow named Mike who I've linked up with recently for some rock art stuff. He was game for some exploration off and above the creek so that's what we did. We selected a random rocky drainage to climb and get above it all. No real idea what we'd find, if anything. We sure didn't expect to stumble into a few acres of pristine oak forest well above the Sespe, but that's what happened. We had some fun rockaneering the immense talus below this eden, climbing for a good 1,000ft before the land leveled off and we found ourselves traipsing through the trees. I have to say it was really neat to uncover this totally unexpected little gem (which is why they call it "exploring"). After a nice lunch and with nothing else to see up there we dropped back down to the Sespe where I stripped and ducked in for a quick bath. The rest of the day we spent fooling around near the Gate. All in all, a fun day of exploring for exploration's sake. Enjoy the photos.

Mike, gettin' sketchy.

A thin slice of paradise.

One of the many naturally occurring oil seeps in the Lower Sespe.

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.