Castro Canyon, A Game Of Lost And Found

I finally found it! Smilodon's fang! This fang measured roughly 16" from root to tip.

What blind luck! Total and complete chance!

Over a dozen years ago Dave Rivas told me a story his own father, David Rivas Sr, had told him. The gist of it went like this--somewhere in the Cuyama Badlands is a fossil of a Saber Tooth Cat. And that's it. That's all the information I could ever get. Those of you who've been out that way know what I mean when I say that my odds of finding this fossil with just that information were about the same as winning the lottery. Worse even. I never forgot about that short mention and it's nagged me for years, but with nothing to go on there wasn't anything to pursue. At times I started believing it was a myth. Well here it is. 

Back to the blind luck, I was traveling trans-badlands sans trail, got curious about a fin of rock up just another steep and unpleasant gully, clambered under it and eventually scrambled up to its top, and viola! Sabertooth tooth! I don't know why, in the middle of an otherwise difficult day, I would waste the energy to go up this gully and climb 100ft up to the top of this thing. I have no good answer for what my motivations might have been. Finding this has affected me in some weird karmic cosmotic conundrumial kind of way. I could theorize that I was meant to find it, which would be a load of horse shit. It was just plain ole dumb luck. Now, I was born lucky, and I recognize luck when I see it, and figuring this was my lucky day I bought a MegaMillions ticket later that afternoon. Naturally, my luck didn't reach quite that far, or even as far as a single winning number. 

This is a much prettier and better preserved Smilodon Fang.

Ice Age predators aside, what I actually came to this part of the planet for I did not find. There are a couple rock art sites in Castro Canyon which I intended to find, but I'll get to that later. Having received permission from a landowner to cross through Rainbow Canyon, I set off westward through that colorful country with the sun at my back. The day was already promising to be a warm one here on the north slope of Sierra Madre Ridge. Glossy cows and scampering calfs parted before me as I crossed a wide expanse of surgically cropped grass. Further on the canyon narrowed considerably. The southern wall of the canyon rose up in striations of brick red and tan soils. Nearing the impassable head of the canyon I followed an old trail up the southern rim. This short climb afforded a clear view of the colorful "V" of multicolored soils which marks the top of Rainbow.

Rainbow Canyon at sunrise.

The "V" at the top of Rainbow.

Cresting Rainbow gave me a good look at what lay in store, and that future looked like it was going to be a struggle. Before me was a landscape slashed by numerous deep and twisting gullies which drained off the northern slope of Sierra Madre Ridge. The next several miles would entail traversing laterally across these steep and brushy drainages, climbing over and down one after another. I groaned with displeasure. Having studied the map and those innocuous topo lines was one thing, but seeing it up close made the day more personal. Heading west would be a tough haul. Time to go to work.

The going was slow. I descended into the large tangle of gullies just west of Rainbow Canyon which come together at Tennison Springs. I picked my way through juniper, scrub oak, and prickly scrub which clung to each side of these deep gullies. Up then down, repeat process. There were occasional animal paths which zig-zagged up and down this maze of badland washes, though many were old and led straight into walls of scrub. The day heated up, dragged on through this tiring cycle of climbing and descending. After roughly three miles of this repetitive struggle I climbed out of a drainage and found myself on a small plateau upstream of Goode Spring. Though I was now on relatively easy terrain, the scrub oaks and juniper were thick and close which resulted in a drunkenly weaving sort of route, both time consuming and at times frustrating.

Past that initial flat I had another series of several drainages above Olive Springs to contend with, similar in nature but brushier than my earlier struggles. This went on for a bit and I soon climbed out of the final gulch and into a more open and airy flat land plateau. Later, a couple arduous gully crossings resulted in a short scramble up to a cracked and wind hollowed collection of brown boulders. Beyond these broken stones lay a vista of pointed hoodoos, sloped whalebacks, overslung cliffs and towers of pocked sandstone--Castro Canyon. I think I kind of gaped for a minute. Somewhere in this square mile of bizarrely sculpted landscape lay a couple rock art sites. That's all I knew. Jeez, I thought, they could be hidden anywhere in this jumble. I could spend days in this mess and never find them. Just gazing out at all this remarkable rock was somewhat dispiriting in that sense. Despite starting the day with 5.5L of water 4 hours ago I'd already cut that load in half. Additionally, I was already too worked for an extensive search. I sat in the shade of a giant boulder and started calculating, giving myself 1.5 hours to search the eastern edge of Castro. Sketching in the dirt beneath me I plotted out the lay of various formations and selected a route which would arc through the most amount of stone I could search in that time window. 

That hole opens to a flat cave large enough for a comfortable 2-man bivouac.

The first view west into Castro Canyon.

This middle terrain of Castro Canyon is tiring to get around in. Getting up to and under the rock formations for close inspection often took some doing, and all for naught. I must have stuck my head in 50 otherwise promising holes, peered intently at 75 alcoves, and traversed under every side of a couple dozen of these massive formations. No dice. Well into the second hour of my search I was reluctantly forced to accept that I'd used up my luck early in the day. Sure wish I could have borrowed a horse. This was definitely the country for it. But then I wouldn't have found that cat fang either. Guess it all worked out the way it was supposed to.

Typical of the badlands drainages off the north slope of Sierra Madre.

Fossil something or other.

View toward Santa Barbara Canyon from Rainbow Canyon.

Dollar Canyon, Of Fossils And Flowers

This one was a tough nut to crack. Took me two real tries to find these fossils. Here's how it started.

A gent dropped an off-hand remark which piqued my interest. He said there was a big fossil at the top of Dollar Canyon. "What kind of fossil?", I asked, "Because there are fossil seashells all over the place." (as you'll see later). "And where the hell is Dollar Canyon? It's not on any map of the Los Padres I've ever seen." He said it was fossil remains of a large mammal. "Oh?", my eyes narrowed, "Do tell..."

This is going be fun for any of you with an adventurous spirit and a desire to go see something new. I'm going to share with you the same treasure hunt type info I was given, but with two additional and critical pieces of beta that I had to figure out on my own. First I'll explain why Dollar Canyon isn't on the map. The Reyes family purchased Santa Barbara Canyon Ranch in 1946, known prior to their ownership as Reeves Ranch. The name "Dollar" refers to a bet between two cow hands about wether or not there was water up this particular canyon. The wager was a dollar. There is water, but it's so scarce at this point as to be not worth the mention.

So if you've got a yen to find this fossil, here's your beta:

1.) Dollar Canyon is the first canyon/drainage past the first cattle guard on Santa Barbara Canyon Rd past turning onto that road at Reyes Ranch. It is narrow, hot, twisty, and not very friendly.

2.) The fossil is at the very top of the canyon.

3.) High in the canyon are several smaller tributary gullies. It may be important to bring a close up of a map detail in order to determine which of these is the correct one to follow.

4.) The fossil is to be found on the face of a dirty grey band of diatomaceous stone.

5.) The aspect of this rock band with the fossil faces due south.

And there you go. Armed with that info, some purpose and a good map, interested parties should be able to locate the fossil. It should go without saying that I'd be pretty disappointed to find that somebody went up there with a hammer and a rock chisel and tried to pry out some fossil bone. Please just enjoy it for what it is and take only photos. It's been there for millions of years, let it be. On the other hand, there are fossils of large seashells all over the place in a couple of the gullies which stream off the northern ridge of Dollar Canyon. After finding the primary fossil you should have a much better eye for the type of rock these fossils can be found in. Have at it.

I have a call out to a gent who has seen these fossils and may be able to shed some light on the identification of the critter.

This photo is one of your clues.

As I mentioned at the beginning, this one took me two tries to find. Having been up, down, and back up Dollar Canyon I decided to go back to the truck by way of the northern ridge of Dollar. Decades ago there was an old horse trail which climbed this ridge all the way up to Fox Mountain. Most of that trail has vanished over time, though remnants remain, but for the most part going up or down this ridge qualifies as cross country hiking. This ridge is essentially part of the rim of the Cuyama Badlands and the views from up there are spectacularly reminiscent of Kaibab National Forest in Arizona (west of Flagstaff). Splashed with red and white soils, dotted with juniper and pinyon pines, and cut through by hundreds of random arroyos, washes, and gullies, this is the kind of country that hides it's mysteries well. While descending the ridge I was treated to a full on flower show, with whole fields of the rounded ridge top in bloom with yellows, whites, purple, and blue hues. The air was crystal clear and silent but for a gentle, cooling breeze. The high desert can be cruel and coarse, but sometimes she's a giver.

Santa Barbara Canyon Ranch.

As I mentioned earlier, low on the ridge and nearing the bottom of Santa Barbara Canyon I dropped off the ridge and began descending back into Dollar Canyon. I passed through a strata of the same rock on which the fossil up high can be found. Here I found dozens of mollusk fossils sprinkled in large and small rocks. Additionally, I found a fossil with a tooth in it and one with a single exposed bone. If one had the urge to go fossil crazy for a day, this would be a place to do it. I really enjoyed myself.

Canyon Country Cruisin'

The Cuyama Badlands at Muhu Tasen, Quatl Canyon.

Here are some photos from a day spent bouncing up several different canyons while chasing wild geese. A day of research which didn't pan out, but revealed new mysteries to be solved. A day of crawling in holes, climbing up to caves, and scraping through narrow arroyos. Apache Canyon. Quatl Canyon. Santa Barbara Canyon. I explored the vacant flat where Muhu Tasen resides, a juniper studded aluvial plain hosting Native American sweat lodges, dance circles, and Buddhist meditation platforms set against a remarkable backdrop of striped and haunting badland cliffs. A place of incredibly stark beauty. I poked around the drainages creeping away from Santa Barbara Canyon and stopped for a 45 minute chat with Fred Reyes, the rancher whose family has owned Santa Barbara Canyon since 1944. We spoke of paying for feed, praying for rain, selling off the old stuff and the young stuff, keeping the yearlings and the fertile cows, the history of his ranch and of his family in Lockwood Valley. The man is 80 years old, smoked his last cardiac treadmill, and still throws 120lb hay bales around. The old breed. I drove up to Nettle Springs at the head of Apache Canyon, searching for a way to delve a little deeper into the bottom of the San Emigdio Mesa, problem solved but requiring of a return trip. It was a day of exploration, discovery, photography and off-road fun. I've got some good brain food for future follies. 

A desiccated grey fox, found in a cave near Santa Barbara Canyon.

A sweat lodge at Muhu Tasen.

Mortars and ceremonial seashells.

The lava rocks are heated and brought into the sweat lodge.

A Tale of Two Canyons

Mountain Lion kill. Fresh. Sketchy situation.

Interesting day. On the agenda was a recon of two adjoining canyons which branch off of Sierra Madre/Buckhorn Road. These two little ravines have always caught my eye as I've blown by them on the way elsewhere, but today was the day to spend some time in this neighborhood. I had no idea what I'd find up there, nor did I start the day with any preconceived expectations. It turned out to be an "interesting" day of off-trail exploring.

Click any image to enlarge.

I started off with the nameless canyon to the west of Alamo which I dubbed "Fossil", for reasons you'll see below. The bottom end of this ravine was narrow, rocky and steep, and shaded by mature oaks and maples. The first water I encountered was a milky sky blue and smelled strongly of sulfur. Continuing upward I ranged back and forth along the walls of the ravine, giving special attention to the towering rock walls on the left (E) side. No rock art. No mortars. After discovering the sulfur seep I immediately concluded that the natives wouldn't have placed much value on at least this lowest portion of "Fossil" Canyon.

I continued upward, scrambling up dry waterfalls and jumbled creek bed. Standing pools of water remained iced over in this perpetual shade. I soon cleared the steep scramble and emerged into a close and overgrown ravine, still narrow but widening incrementally. I found numerous animal trails and began moving upstream with little difficulty. On my way up I discovered numerous fossils of clam shells, some quite large. I continued up paths parallel to the dry creek and ranged back and forth from one side of the canyon to the other in a loose zig-zag pattern, just keeping my eyes open. High in the canyon I spotted a large grey fox before he spotted me. That was kind of a treat. Parts of the upper canyon retained healthy oak trees but further upstream the scars of the Zaca Fire became more obvious. Eventually I was getting thrashed in long thickets of wild rose and spiky manzanita. It soon became clear that there wasn't much more to see in "Fossil" Canyon and that it was time to back track and find a way to climb over the eastern ridge of this ravine and descend into Alamo Canyon.

A view back down the lower (N) portion of "Fossil", from high on the east wall of the canyon.

Animal track, better than many of the SLP's "trails".

I located a steep gully which climbed in the direction I wanted to go. Following animal tracks I bypassed a wall of dry waterfalls and continued upward through brush and charred trees. Higher up this gully I discovered more sea shell fossils. Eventually my route narrowed and I was able to see daylight at the top of the gully. I scrambled out of the gully headed northeast and soon found myself weaving through low brush and grasses on a rounded hill (4805). From the top of 4805 I had line-of-sight views to both Sierra Madre Rd and to portions of Buckhorn Rd. I could also see directly down into Alamo Canyon and beyond that, into Santa Barbara Canyon. Cuyama Peak seemed a short distance away ENE.

The top of the gully I chose to get from "Fossil" to Alamo. Note the excellent animal track on the right.

Sierra Madre Rd from Hill 4805.

Alamo Canyon, Cuyama Peak on right, Cerro Noroeste and Mt Pinos in the distance.

I made my way over to the rim of Alamo Canyon and followed a precisely cut and inherently logical deer track which switch-backed down to the creek. In the canyon proper I turned right (S) and headed upstream for quite a while, passing through multiple groves of mature oaks. This was a pleasant park, which alternated from one side of the dry creek to the other. I found a very old and abandoned bush camp but little else of interest. Animal tracks were everywhere, deer, bear, and I happened across several hairy twists of old mountain lion scat. Far up the canyon and under some tall old oaks I disturbed a very large great horned owl. As with the upper portions of "Fossil", this canyon had also been scorched by the Zaca Fire, and I encountered similar problems with prickly scrub. I turned around and headed back downstream, paying attention to aspects of the creek I hadn't travelled on my way up. 

View from the western rim of Alamo Canyon.

Alamo Canyon

I descended the creek and eventually moved past where I'd dropped in from the western ridge. Continuing, I meandered through rocky creek bed fringed with elephant grass and wild rose, dead reeds, scrub oak and poison oak. At some point I rounded a boulder in the iced over stream and saw a fresh, wet and muddy lion print on a mossy stone. At about the same moment my nose caught the bloody scent of raw, red meat. As all this was registering in my mind, my eyes were drawn further around the boulder to a bright red, shredded and gnawed deer carcass. "Uh oh. This is not good." was the first coherent thought that I could put together. This kill was fresh. My hackles rose and a shower of ice particles peppered my gut. My heart rate spiked and my eyes dilated. I turned in several tight circles and thoroughly scoped my surroundings. Nothing. This did not make me feel any more at ease. Another finger of cold awareness trickled down my spine. I knew I was being watched. I slowly backed up into the boulder behind me and searched the reeds, the trees, the rocks, everything, but I just could not shake the feeling that I was not alone, a feeling that needed no imaginative urging. I knew I was being watched. This was the real deal. I slowly unslung my pack, retrieved my camera and snapped two quick shots. It was time to E&E outa here. 

The beginning of Sierra Madre/Buckhorn Rd, from the western rim of Alamo Canyon.

The further I got away from the scene of the kill, the better I felt. Eventually the feeling passed altogether and I was able to relax a bit, though I remained on high alert. As I descended the last hundred yards of the canyon I encountered a sulfur seep similar to that at the bottom of fossil falls, another indicator that the water in this canyon wouldn't have necessarily invited the Chumash to reside at this immediate location. As the cat had demonstrated though, the hunting must have been pretty good. Soon I climbed up onto Sierra Madre/Buckhorn Rd and the adventure came to a close. To finish the day I drove up to Cuyama Peak LO for the sunset (see previous post). 

Like I said, interesting day.

Sulfer seeps abound in the lowest portion of both these drainages.