The last fall quarter of my college education is over, what better way to celebrate than by heading out into my own beautiful backyard for a week. The details were sketchy as best, Lane and I knew the direction we were heading, and that's about it. This is a serious departure from how people usually do these types of hikes, but what the hell, our packs were loaded to the brim with food and off we went!
The first day along the trail was extremely pleasant, I introduced Lane to the spot where I spent the night under a picnic table, and we continued up along the mountain for the rest of the afternoon without incident. I would later learn that this trip would be more than double Lane's longest backpacking trip ever, so I was trying to ease him into the immense walking. Soon enough he proved to be more than adept at carrying his own weight and moving at a fair pace, so without further hesitation we climbed and climbed up to Happy Hollow for the night. Our bellies were still full from big breakfasts before we left so neither of us bothered with cooking. Lane put up his tent while I got a fire going, and we passed the last few hours of daylight keeping the fire alive and commenting on how cold it was getting. The night proved to be quite frigid, and the last few hours of darkness were spent praying for daylight to come as I huddled in my sleeping bag. Sometimes I wonder why I get myself into these situations, but all I have to do is look around me to realize that these situations are the price I pay for the beauty of my environment.
Morning finally came and to I discovered that the temperature had indeed dipped below freezing, as my water bottle had frozen solid! Good to know my sleeping bag can handle it if need be! Much complaining arose as we struggled to get a fire going with frosty fingers and wet firewood, but eventually Lane and I were defrosting our toes and hands before setting out again. Down the trail another mile we stopped and made a phone call to let loved ones know we were alive and without further hesitation plunged into the overgrown section of the trail behind the mountain. An absolutely beautiful day, zero clouds and warm temperatures quickly led to daydreaming and quiet walking for hours before hearing the unmistakable sound of running water far below us. Santa Cruz Creek was indeed flowing strong and my preoccupations about water shortages were abated. This valley was really quite beautiful, the Sun was starting to go down behind the yellowing leaves of the sycamore trees and the creek was littered with golden oak leaves. We spent some time making food and exploring the campsite before deciding to continue along the trail a bit more while the sun was still out. Only two miles further the made a fork with an ambiguous sign about which way to go. We debated the options, and decided that no matter which way we went we could just make camp wherever we wanted anyway. We spied an oak grove about a mile further down the ridge, completely deserted, and with no trail leading to it. The adventurousness overcame us and we bush-whacked our way down steep and muddy slopes covered in thick brush all the way to 'Gaucho Flat'. That night the fog rolled in, and thick! When morning came it was impossible to see more than 100 yards in any direction!
I was not looking forward to climbing back out of our secluded spot that morning, but it passed without incident and we found the original trail again. Without knowing what lay further out on the trail with regards to water we decided to head back to the only guaranteed water source around at Santa Cruz Camp. With looming dark clouds and tired feet we set our packs down and decided to continue the bush-whacking theme of the day and explore the creek for the rest of the daylight hours. We passed through some untouched territory for hours, with no sign of humanity anywhere. Just the occasional animal print in the sand as a clue that we aren't the only living things around. We rock hopped for hours with nothing to distract us from the tranquility of this little valley, except those ominous rain clouds rolling in. Light was fading, and the clouds loomed ever darker and heavier on our minds, so we turned back and called it an early night after making a fire and some dinner.
The last morning we packed our stuff up and headed out for a long climb back towards the car. The original plan was to spend one more night out here, but the rainy forecast was clearly coming to fruition and we had an easy source of exit, so why suffer? One last call to the parents to let them know we were coming home and were still alive, and then descent down the mountain towards the car. The clouds were casting incredible shadows on the hillsides all around us, and we had yet to see any other people all week – which is just as well. We had this backyard paradise all to ourselves this week, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
