White Ledge Peak via Trespass Gully, Class 3-4. 01/01/13

Ahh, geeez. Where do I start with this one? I guess I'll say that White Ledge Peak has shut down so many attempts to reach it's rocky summit that the mountain has seemed to grow an aura of invincibility as time went by. When folks in our business think about White Ledge they shake their heads and mutter something unintelligible followed by a discussion of trail projects in the works that may some day be linked with the peak, maybe. So there it has sat, high above Ojai, viewed from Ventura, Carpenteria and Santa Barbara, and untouched for possibly decades until this first day of 2013.

White Ledge has been a no man's land for decades, literally. Any approach using the idea of the long vanished Ocean View Trail can expect to be met with an impenetrable wall of brush. This is not a fight somebody can win, take it from me (TR). The only other options for an approach to this peak involve crossing a combination of private property lands, Bureau of Land Reclamation holdings, and Casitas Water District land. It's complicated, and the jist of it all is that your not going to get permission to approach through the large private property holdings, and you aren't likely to catch a ride in with the CDF or CalFire because those same property owners generally don't even want brush clearing crews up in their hidden valley. Joe at USFS Casitas was of the opinion that most of the owners under White Ledge weren't very friendly. Good to know.

White Ledge via our new line "Trespass Gully".

On New Years Eve I sent Jack a text, said **Call me if you can get out**

He texted back, **Where we goin?**

T'was time for a parlay.

As to the access issue, I will not discuss how we arrived at the mouth of Trespass Gully. That shall always be held in brotherly trust between Jack Elliott and I. So don't ask where our day started. Really, I won't answer that. I can say that we took full advantage of the fact that nobody is up and about real early on New Years Day. We started the day at 04:45, stealthing up a road under a cold moon light. I can say that about 30 minutes into the morning we were startled by the eerie yowlings of a mountain lion across the canyon from us. I will also say that our total mileage for the day was... considerable.

But understand that this TR is about finding a new way up a long abandoned peak, a peak that has pushed back all attempts for many years. And you want to talk about how good that feels? Staring at a problem from every angle, talking to the USFS, looking at property lines and easements and fire roads versus ranch roads versus fuel breaks. Working the satellite data. Seeing a possible way up this thing now turning into the first stirrings of a plan to do just that. After a brief presentation to Jack during which I said, "There's a lot of ins and outs. A lot what ifs and what have yous. But this is my best guess at the best shot up the thing. From the angle it should go, but I have no idea what'll happen up there. Whatcha think?"  

"We go".

"Good man."

So lets start at the mouth of Trespass Gully, many miles behind us now, sweat turning clammy in the clouded morning chill, feet damp and muddy, scrounging through the pack for calories and Advil. The sound of a creek bubbling just 50 feet away, pouring down our new gully. A smoke, pills, and a few bites of food help me put the previous approach miles in the rearview. Those miles hadn't come free, Now we were quietly adjusting to the next stage of this reality. The reality where, if I had had to guess, our world would promptly go to shit.

I was right. We immediately plunged into a creek bottom of the worst sort. This thing was a true american horror show. Layers of deadfall sticks and limbs, brambles, nettle and poison oak vines, blackberry vines, stands of willows and springy scrub oak, slick and mossy rocks, decaying leaves a foot thick, and of course the creek itself. We saw what might be called an intermittent path the first quarter mile after which the only paths were 100% bear made. We were in a brawl with many years worth of dead biomass. It was exceedingly hard work, painful and bruising. We bashed forward through all. Not far up the creek we encountered the first real obstacle of the day, after which the hits kept coming. We were presented with a 15 foot high waterfall and the best option in this case was to climb a muddy and sketchy margin up the right side of the thing. We encountered dozens of these small waterfalls, each unique and beautiful, each presenting a problem to climb past. Some were easy, or easy but scary, while others were a brush-busting cussfest, and some were just plain sketchy. In between these falls we'd have to hammer through more deadfalls, feet snagging in the blackberry, limbs slapping at the eyes, sticks prodding random body parts. This went on for hours. Below are some shots from the lower half of Trespass Gully.

Jack and I had finally cleared a way through the first gate of hell, the reward for which was a drastic reduction in brush. The second half of the Gully is narrower and steeper, with significantly less brush than that morass below. Excellent! Trespass Gully had narrowed to a slab-sided chute requiring all sorts of craziness to ascend. We had an unending series of waterfalls to climb. One 200 foot section had a stack of falls that looked like nothing so much as big fish ladders. This section of the gully was unlike any drainage I've been in around here. We just kept climbing stacks of  waterfalls and rivulets, finding a way up. This is an amazing place, and the climbing was fun.

As you can see in the pictures below, some innate climbing ability is required for this route. I had brought along 90ft of 8mm rope which we did not need for either the ascent or the descent.

A view of White Ledge from high in Trespass Gully.

Jack, high in Trespass Gully.

We ran that Gully all the way up to a small saddle which links the summit with its smaller sisters to the south and west. I continued north up a rocky and exposed spine, summiting a few moments later. Man O Man, the view from the top of this one is truly unique. I was just super stoked to get this summit.
There wasn't a summit register when we got there but there is one now. The only adornment on the summit is a very old wooden cross that has baked up there for so long that what had been an inscription on one side was now illegible. We took care to re-erect the cross. We spent over an hour on the summit, partly because neither of us were particularly enthusiastic about descending, but also because we both understood that this was probably a one time thing. Yeah, we did it, but the best one word descriptor for the ascent is: BRUTALITY.  That was a seriously difficult climb. Our summit smiles were shaded by pain and dirt and some expression that is very difficult to describe; a far away, knowing stare, elevated a bit beyond the concerns of the norm and appearing to be repeatedly boggled by what he can see with his own eyes. We were worked.

The snowy White Ledge Ridge

That's me being really happy. This was a good one.

Jack on the White Ledge summit ridge.

Jack, topping out on White Ledge.

Peakaboo, the shiny new summit register can see you.

The newly restored summit cross.

Santa Cruz Island from the summit.

At last we wrapped our heads around the idea of descending this thing. Bad things happen on steep descents and I reminded Jack to take care, take his time, and I explained the penalty for dropping a rock on my head. We were on the same page. Work it out bit by bit. Help each other out through the drops, work as a team. We downclimbed the dozens of waterfalls and hacked our way back down the gully. Entering the forested and overgrown hell required us to change tactics and we smoothly switched back into the veteran brush fighters that Jack and I have become over the years. This brush nightmare seemed without end, the day was blurring together. The cloudy light filtering through the canopy was the same grey shade that it had been this morning. I was getting tired. Real tired, but that's when I saw the exit which had been this AM's entrance. We were out. Well... out of the gully with miles to go anyway.

Jack, high in Trespass Gully.

Jack, under the face of White Ledge Peak.

Jack, descending yet another obstacle.

Lake Casitas, Ventura and Anacapa Island.

By the end of it all we had spent 14 hours on the go, much of it on some seriously steep terrain.The drive home featured long and pained sighs, exclamations of "we did that?", "hoooly shit" and "Christ on a crutch". Fortune favors the bold. We are the conquistadores of the useless. 

"Yard work builds character.", isn't that what dad always said?

I can't endorse it, but if anybody takes on Trespass Gully I'd enjoy hearing about it.

Kings crest from atop White Ledge Peak

King's Crest (Peak 4864) and an attempt at White Ledge Peak 12/27/12

The moral of today's story is that it's sometimes a nice thing to have a Plan B. I started the day committed to taking an honest crack at getting to White Ledge Peak using Murietta Canyon as the approach. I didn't give myself very high odds of success in that endeavor which is why I had figured it'd be wise to have that Plan B. Good thing too.

My morning started at 0500. It was cold. And windy. As I marched through a darkened Matilija Ranch I was pelted with granules of snow that were being blown down-canyon by the arctic breeze. Overhead was a glittery sky ablaze with the silver glow of a full moon which shone with a cold palor, and a luminescent halo ringed her. I trudged along in the frigid pre-dawn, head down, eyes watering, crunching footsteps on the frozen soil.

I reached Murietta Divide, took a left and started up the steep climb to Divide Peak and the end of the East Camino Cielo motorcycle trail. This short piece of trail is a bit of a grind, and being on the steep north side of the ridge, it was extra cold and windy. Having reached the ridge I continued east on the MC trail, following that track until it stopped going east. At an unmarked junction where the MC trail takes a last turn to the south to it's terminus, I continued east toward White Ledge Peak. 

The ridge to White Ledge Peak, from the end of E Camino Cielo.

White Ledge Peak has been a no man's land for such a long time that I haven't even heard of anyone who has been there. I have gotten pretty accustomed to bad brush and that hard earned tolerance gave me a small hope that I could find a way through the manzanita planet that was once known as the Ocean View Trail. Leaving the MC trail I ascended a narrow and brushy track that was clearly the work of someone trying to reestablish that old trail. The route was good, though nearly overgrown, and it only lasted for about a third of a mile. Brush cuttings along the way indicated to me that no real trail work had been done in at least a couple of years. This "trail" continued east under the crest until the ridge descended to a saddle. Here the trail came to an abrupt halt. Several trails continued from there, the paths of wandering parties who were coming to the conclusion that their trail had concluded and the day was about to get much more difficult. I had hit a solid wall of brush. I continued eastward at an abysmally slow pace, twisting and shoving through acres of healthy manzanita, scarcely making progress. I kept at this for over an hour before reaching a rocky point. I dropped pack for a bit and really thought about what I was doing out here. I had maybe done a half mile of this cursed ridge and that yardage had cost too much in time and energy. I gazed at White Ledge and understood with sterling clarity that this was not the route that would get me there. It had been worth the try.

The ridge from hell. Lake Casitas to the right.

Admitting that I wasn't going to get to White Ledge on this day took all the pressure off me. Now I could have some fun. I quickly backtracked to the MC trail and headed south out to the stubby summit of at the end of E Camino Cielo. Standing atop the cluster of rocks that crown this nob I could clearly view Catalina, Santa Barbara. Anacapa, Santa Cruz, San Miguel and Santa Rosa islands. I lingered here for a while before returning toward Divide Peak to the west. Here's where I started implementing Plan B.

Backing up for a minute, if you were to climb through Murietta and ascend the Monte Arido trail to the motor cycle trail, and if you looked up and left (east) once you popped out on that ridge trail, you'd  see a steep, bouldery, brushy climb to the sky. The summit at the top of this brush-fest is called Peak 4864. It is considered to be the highest point in the Santa Ynez Range, that chain of ridges that make up the front range of the coastal mountains, the mountain chain visible from Hwy 101 all the way from  Sea Cliff to Goleta. I figured that I since I'd been shut out on White Ledge I owed it to myself to stand on top of something tall and pointy. Up I went.

The route up King's Crest ascends this rocky brush buffet from the Divide Peak MC trail (E. Camino Cielo).

Class 3 ridge climbing on the north side of Peak 4864. Murietta Canyon below.

Snow flurries over Matilija canyon.

There isn't any true trail up King's Crest. Climbing the thing is kind of fun and adventurous with lots of route finding and rock-scotching. The first step got me up onto the crest of this peak after which I had to traverse for some distance to reach the summit. This traverse was interesting and I found that the best route for me was to ditch the brush and scramble across the rocky northern side of the crest. If you aren't a rock climber you may find this approach to be sketchy and exposed (Class 3). A few minutes later I discovered (much to my surprise) a small summit cairn with a register. I took a few minutes to watch a line of clouds that were dropping snow all over the mountains (Reyes, Matilija and Dry Lakes Ridge) to the north. The view to the south and west were the same incredible vistas that I'd been seeing all morning, the Great Blue Pacific.

I finally turned my attention to the summit register (there is no benchmark). This Peak was named King's Crest in 1990 by Mark King when he claimed the summit as a first ascent. If you look at the original summit entry you can see where he wrestled with whether this point should be called "crest" or "peak". His party had attempted White Ledge Peak, also unsuccessfully. The register indicated that ascent parties (mostly the same few people again and again) had visited on an annual basis for the first few years before tapering to a trickle. The most recent visitor had signed the book in October 2010. Curiously, there isn't any mention in the register of Peak 4864 being a "high point" until the late 90's. This peak is unnamed on maps.

The view toward SB and Jameson from halfway down King's Crest.

After a bit of lunch I descended back to the MC trail and walked over to a 5 acre park I call the Divide Peak Boulders. I wandered around for a couple more hours, enjoying the day, staying out of the wind. I wandered all over the area before reluctantly turning back to the Monte Arido descent to Murietta Divide. 

Divide Peak Boulders.

Divide Peak Boulders.

Divide Peak Boulders.

Divide Peak Boulders.

Anacapa Island.

Santa Cruz Island from the Divide Peak Boulders.

Haddock Peak from atop Peak 4864.

Now, you may not believe this, and lord knows I was was surprised when I ran into three guys ascending the Monte Arido as I was going down (there was an Eric, and Tristan who works at the Trek store in Ventura, and another fella whose name I can't conjure up). Anyway, these guys were going after that peak too! What the hell? Nobody climbs the thing in over 2 years and all of a sudden 4 people go up it in a day?!? On a Thursday in the winter? Weird.

I had a good day on the ridge tops. And it was good to prove to myself that I need to find another way to get at White Ledge.

A peek into Murietta Creek.