Native American Rock Art: Chimney Meadows, Lamont Meadows

Chimney Meadows.

Here are photos from two stops on an eventful day ranging from desolate deserts to mountain meadows. I went back to Jawbone Canyon and ruled out a hunch, and drove out to Walt Bickel's mining camp in the El Paso Range, but what I really wanted to see were a pair of rock art sites which can be accessed via the Chimney Peak Byway.

Hidden away near Chimney Meadows is a small rock art site. The paintings cling to the underside of a granite shelf which overhangs the paintings. The art is old and fading, much of it essentially gone. The photo below shows hints of a fading orange, though the other elements are strictly monochrome red. It's a neat site that offers deluxe views of the meadow and immediate access to Chimney Creek.

The second site is fairly well known. It is located in Lamont Meadows which lies below and downstream of Chimney Meadows. The art is displayed on the roof of a large granite overhang which is difficult and dangerous to get to (see caption below). There are about 20 individual monochrome red elements on this roof, all of them bearing a resemblance to other Kern County sites. I was intrigued by the art, the overhang, and it's inaccessibility. I am unused to being unable to climb up to a place so this circumstance left me a bit peeved. With a belay and rock shoes it would have been a breeze, but without the rope... too dicey for me.

The meadow complex up here was pretty, and made for a pleasant drive through towering peaks and piney forests. I'd like to complete the backcountry drive which continues from Chimney Meadows all the way down to and through Kennedy Meadows. That'd make for a really cool day behind the wheel.

Chimney Meadows.

The pictographs at Lamont Meadows. What sets these apart from many rock art sites is the inaccessibility. 

I was able to get up to the ledge just below the overhang with the paint, but beyond that I could not overcome my better judgement. A couple of very exposed 5th Class moves would have gotten me there but they were awkward, barn door moves with poor feet and a sloper top out, 30ft off the deck. There was another option, one which I think the natives used, but that was a sketchy series of no-hands traversing moves which today are obstructed by a complicating plant. Too risky. In the photos above and below you can see the pictographs on the roof of the overhang.

Off-Trail Over Lockwood Valley

Here's a fun filled off-trail excursion through the forests and gullies just above Lockwood Valley. This all started when a friend mentioned that he'd heard that a guy had found some arrowheads in a couple meadows somewhere south of Lilly Meadows. Looking further I figured out where this tale may have originated, got confirmation from the friend, plotted a route and took off for a look see. My plan started and ended at Camp 3 Falls (BSA Camp) in Lockwood. I planned to make a big loop, traveling up the trail toward Sheep Camp as far as Lilly Meadows, and from there I'd head south and west off-trail to see what was what and with luck, arrive safe and sound back at the BSA camp. Fun.

Detail of the loop route described in this post.

One of the waterfalls for which Camp 3 Falls is named, this one being the biggest. There's still water here, a persistent drizzle of about a half gallon per minute.

A short while before reaching Lilly I had a fun bear encounter. The trail where I met her passes through a steep and narrow ravine with nearly dry creek just off the left side of the trail. I was probably only 10-15 feet from her when we both got a little startled. She (I want to say the bear was a lady) jumped out of the creek and started climbing the steep and loose cliff opposite me. She was a glossy black beauty, large, a young adult. I've seen a lot of bears move faster than she did so I don't think she was particularly alarmed after the initial contact. She climbed up the cliff, breaking sticks and trundling down rocks, and from in the shade above where I took the photo (below) of her, she paused to take a look at me. After that I got to observe her traverse away from me across that same slope. She was my second bear sighting of the last month.

I asked her if she wanted to dance and she ran off. Click to enlarge.

Grouse Mountain from the saddle south of Lilly Meadows.

After the excitement I continued up to Lilly Meadows and turned due south from the campsite. I climbed up to a forested saddle and took stock of what I wanted to do. The view from here was unobstructed and I could see across the valley to Lockwood Peak, and further, to Thorn Point and Cedar Peak. Behind me was a nice view of Grouse Mountain. Below was a terrain of thickly forested ridges, and between those, a bewildering array of twisting ravines. I revisited my intended route and decided to do things a little differently, to try to maintain a position on the high ground and ridge tops instead of descending into the drainage below me. I figured that staying in the cedar and juniper up high wouldn't be so tough, and that if I descended right into those gullies I would be in the mix without any real view relative to landmarks. So, that being the plan I moved laterally from the saddle and made my way over to a tall and wavy ridge which descended in the direction I wanted to go. 

Land of the incense cedars.

A view south from high above Lockwood. Lockwood Peak is in the middle distance.

I selected the appropriate bear track and set off, descending through tall cedars, short manzanita, and scruffy junipers. The going was pretty easy but the forest was pretty thick at these lower elevations, which restricted visibility. Eventually I dropped off the ridge and continued down a narrow, twisting ravine. This gully terminated into a slightly larger drainage which came in from a different direction. These little gullies would have been pretty bewildering if I hadn't been solid on where I was going. I clambered over the umpteenth dead fallen cedar and stepped right onto a pile of bones, the nicely stacked remains of a mountain lion's supper. A short time later my gully met another, broad and forest hedged drainage. Here I turned a sharp right and started up this drain headed due west. Fifteen minutes later I stepped into a widening, grassy meadow. A dry watercourse ran through the middle of the meadow, and following that through this one led to another, larger meadow of the same sort, this one being even prettier. 

This has to be the tidiest cat kill I've ever run across.

The more southerly approach into the meadows on the western edge of my day.

In this westerly meadow I dropped pack in the shade of a massive cedar and had a little lunch. Tucking my pack behind my head I stretched out on the pine needles. A cool breeze rustled the pines, the sun beat down on the grassy lea, the birds were chirping and the cicadas sang their hypnotic, buzzing song. I fell asleep. And it was nice.

This is the first in a series of small, connected meadows. Ringed by old cedars, I can imagine that on a wetter year this place would be booming with wildflowers. Deer and bear sign were literally everywhere.

The meadows.

Later I took a different drainage which headed due east and back toward the Scout Camp. At a junction where another gully came in from the north I discovered the now familiar remains of a pot grow operation. I've seen too many of these damned places despoiling our forest. This one covered about 5 acres and had been well irrigated. The Ventura County Sheriffs Dept pulled the plants out last spring but left behind all the equipment and trash. I'm not sure why they left that stuff in the mountains, but I did mark the spot and made sure that the 3 Falls camp ranger is aware that all that crap is still up there. Maybe getting it out of there would be a good Eagle Project for an aspiring young man (hint, hint)[06/07/14 Craig Carey and Leo Genet will be organizing a clean-up including OA Scouts and the Camp Ranger].

I'm getting really sick of this bullshit and these people fucking up our woods. I'm sure there's more than a few Iraq/Afghanistan snipers out there looking for work. Maybe the government could start up a bounty program. You know what? Never mind. That's just me daydreaming.

The trash, hoses, fertilizers and rat poisons these assholes leave behind is harmful to the environment, not to mention the plant destruction and water diversion required to make a grow operation successful.

These tiered rows of micro drip water line covered two hillsides, roughly 5 acres of cultivation.

At the bottom of this drainage, just above where it meets back with the trail out of the Scout Camp, I encountered an interesting geological feature. Sharp pinnacles of black lava rock rose from the gully like pointy fangs. The gully twisted steeply through these towers. The rock was jagged and crumbly and unsuitable for a scrambling exploration but this feature was unique and different than any other rock I've seen in the SLP. All in all, it was a fun day. To top it off, I drove over to Grade valley and Mutau for a bit of late afternoon meditation.

Clidophleps vagans [desert cicada] {song}. They are swarming in the cedars right now. This little bastard tried to drill a hole in my finger while I took this photo

And here's a couple pretty views from Mutau Creek for you all. Mahalo.

Hopper Mountain National Wildlife Refuge

A few weeks ago I was was fortunate enough to be invited on a kind of guided driving tour of Hopper Mountain National Wildlife Refuge. In 1974 the US Department of Fish & Wildlife (formerly Fish & Game) obtained the Hopper Ranch, all 2,471 acres including the original ranch buildings, for the purpose of reintroducing condors to the wild and for the protection of that endangered species. Hopper NWR is nestled behind miles of Los Padres oil lease lands, and is bordered by private property, National Forest, and Condor Sanctuary boundaries. 

As it was explained to those of us on the tour, Hopper was to the few surviving wild condors as the Alamo was to the Texans, the last refuge. In the late '80's it was here at Hopper that the last surviving wild condors were trapped and placed into a captive breeding program. Eventually the captive population was robust enough to begin the gradual process of reintroducing breeding pairs back into their natural habitat, and this effort began at Hopper. At present there are about 230 condors living in the wild and on any given day there are likely to be a dozen or more condors flying into and out of the Refuge. Condors mate for life, and it takes 1-2 years to raise a chick. The nesting pairs tend to lay their egg in the same general area every other year, making the preservation of a safe habitat critical to the continued success of this critically endangered species. For many of those mated pairs, Hopper is that place.

The twisting, turning climb through the oilfields crested at a high overlook. Beneath us, rippling hillsides of windblown grasses descended into Hopper Canyon and the heart of operations there. Looking west and north I was immediately aware of all the looming summits of the Sespe backcountry, familiar peaks seen from a new angle. As we drove lower into Hopper we met a biologist intern parked along the road who'd been scanning with a radio telemetry receiver and had spotted one bird so far that morning (this tour occurred during the last Santa Ana winds and things were extra gusty up there which may have played a role in how many birds were up and where they were flying). Descending further into the canyon we drove past several deer and a large coyote. The place was definitely starting to feel like a nature preserve.

The heart of the operation at Hopper centers on the ranch house and it's various outbuildings. This is home base for the lead biologist, biologist interns, and volunteer staff. There is usually a round-the-clock intern presence, and volunteers are contacted for as-needed or prearranged work days. Parked in front of the ranch house are a number of atvs, governments trucks, tractors and other implements of destruction. The house is off the grid, runs on solar and septic, and water is pumped from an adjacent natural spring. Sadly this '50s era home and the outbuildings are slated for destruction next year, something about the walls being full of mice. New buildings will replace them, and while these will undoubtedly be more modern and efficient, I doubt they will retain the same charm as the old house.

During a lunch stop at the headquarters we met a couple biologist interns who'd just returned from a morning of work spent extending the old Angels Pass trail. They spent some time sharing live feed and recordings from nest cams, small cameras unobtrusively set at active nest sites. We were able to observe a couple chicks and the comings and goings of one or the other parent. It was a vivid reminder that just getting to these nesting sites, usually a small cave in a cliff wall, can be a very difficult prospect. 

After lunch we drove down to the aviary and veterinary facility called the Flight Pen. Wild condors are frequently lured into the pen for lead exposure testing and general check-ups. Though the building was established with the purpose of being a satellite veterinary hospital, staffing became problematic as condor specialists don't grow on trees and probably want to have some sort of life. The building is used primarily for catch and release nowadays, and if a bird requires medical care it is held there until a helicopter transport to the condor facility at the LA Zoo can be arranged. While there we got a nice fly-by by one of the stars of the Hopper Show. Later in the day we got another low buzzing by another bird who circled back a couple times just to make sure we all got a good look at him. 

I enjoyed our time up there at Hopper. I always like being in the wilds and despite the necessary staff presence, this place retains that wilderness feel. Our tour guide, Vince, is a condor legend who's probably forgotten more about condors than most of the "kid" biologists there will ever know. He was a straight champ, answering all manner of questions and filling in the blanks. He helped make the day a special one for the touristas. It was a good time in a beautiful setting. When I can reconcile my own selfish schedule I may look into finding a way to lend a volunteer hand up there. To find out more on tours and volunteerism, you can start @Hopper Mountain NWR. Also, check out the Friends of Condors page. It is evident that the staff here has a mission and a responsibility that they take seriously. They're good folks and they do good work.

Bear Haven and the Topatopa Ridge, Hines being the tallest summit.

Topatopa Peak (you can just make out the old lookout) and at lower right, Devils Heart.

Cobblestone Peak looming behind Whiteacre Ridge.

A volunteer scanning for a wing transmitter signal.

Photo: Skip Saenger

A rocky part of the Preserve referred to as the Pinnacles.

The Flight Pen (and following 2 photos).

Gold Country Crossing

The wildly varied Lockwood terra, a land of unending mystery. Of serpentine watercourses twisting in dizzy and disorienting turns. Of stark, vivid bands of sandy cliffs dotted with juniper and jeffrey pine. Of green, grassy meadows, dusted purple and gold with late flowering blooms. Of towering sandstone bluffs framed by old growth cedar forests. Of forgotten creeks, hidden springs, and lost mines.

I teamed with Jeff Roth of Tajunga, taking his suggestion for this backwoods circuit. The man knows  his way around. Much of the morning was spent climbing into or out of various arroyos and gullies, steep little climbs followed by steep little slides. We tip-toed across knife edged ridges, dodged brush and trees, and in mid-morning we caught sight of a large bear in a grassy meadow. The bear didn't register us at first, but when he did we got to watch him bound across the field at an alarmingly fast clip before he disappeared into a wash. We explored a region of rocky foothills, finding evidence of an ancient campsite, an old #9 gauge telephone line, two pretty springs and a steep waterfall. We took pleasant breaks in shaded vales, drank from clear streams, shared old recollections of places seen and yet to see, and worried not a bit about any clock. Without a stated destination there wasn't any place to be, a refreshing change of pace on my end. Despite the lackadaisical approach to the day we covered a lot of ground. It had been far too long since I'd dosed up on pine tree therapy, and speaking for myself, I was just a happy guy all the day long. 

How better to top such a day than over a mountain of health food, courtesy of Toni & Ali at the

Reyes Creek Bar & Grill.

Cracked earth, a sign of the times.

Abandoned ore buckets.

High potreros.

Jeff & Ginny

Click it.