“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” ― John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America
Having “done” Mexico did not mean my trip was over. I still had a mission to accomplish requiring a few hours on a mountain east of LA. But even more than before, I had a more relaxed schedule and went where spirit took me, as long as Google Maps was agreeable.
The drive north took me through the three-horse town of Aguanga, the one-horse town of Anza, and through the aptly named Paradise Valley, a well hidden forest town just a couple of hours from L.A. sitting high above it all at 4,000+ ft. I kept my eye open for places to camp along the way, but instead settled for an impromptu hike up Cactus Springs Trail. A sudden, unexpected hike; much preferable compared to a sudden unexpected slap across the face with a pineapple.
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| The three horses of Aguanga |
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| Resupply at Aguanga. It's 90F out here - get me back in the car! |
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| Looking back at Palomar Mountain |
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| Le Ranch et les mailboxes |
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| Oh look - a trail! |
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| Can't miss this sign! |
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| I do wear a shirt on occasion. |
The remaining drive up to San Jacinto was a familiar one, one that I made frequently for years with my dogs. Ironically, I had to euthanize my dog Luigi just hours into my trip. To bookend this trip, I was here to release the ashes of prior dogs, Cleo and Louiedog. Both of whom spent many happy times on this mountain but died several states over, their ashes reluctantly tucked in a bookshelf. I listened to Bach on this drive up as I did many times back then, wishing I could travel back in time just once. After a quiet night camping at Idyllwild, I made the 5 mile hike up the spot where we had often gone and camped together. I climbed a rock, took their ashes out of my pack and sat.
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| Campground at San Jacinto. Trees in SoCal! At 6,500 ft |
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| Bedazzled deer at the ranger station |
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| View from Devil's Slide trail |
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| Saddle Junction where I met a PCT thru hiker on his way to Canada |
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| Pretty dry year, apparently |
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| Fire ripped through here in 2013 |
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| My daughter's love note to Louiedog |
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| The rock overlooking a creek |
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| Our old camp spot |
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| The once perennially green Skunk Cabbage Meadows |
My final thought before releasing the ashes were that Cleo and Louiedog do not care. They are dead. And even then, they are dogs. If their spirits are alive up there on the rainbow bridge, they are looking down and running around, not being overly sentimental. As I watched some of their ashes float away down the creek, mixing together on the way, I pictured the two of them playing together again. I did not expect to be as happy and relieved as I was. I was probably holding onto them longer than I should have, though, truth be told, this was my first opportunity to make it here in 10+ years. With a weight off my shoulders, literally as well, I ran back down to the mountain, freshened up with my solar shower at the car, and started my long journey home.
“I wonder why it is that when I plan a route too carefully, it goes to pieces, whereas if I blunder along in blissful ignorance aimed in a fancied direction I get through with no trouble.” ― John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America
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| View looking south to Lake Elsinore (shirt did not last) |
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| Looking north to the 10k ft summits of San Gorgonio |
With my missions accomplished, I was prepared for a straight drive home up I-5. Instead, I opted for the slightly longer route up 101, one of my favorite stretches of road, especially this time of year when all the vistas look like the Windows XP background (nerd pun intended), green rolling hills dotted with oak trees. Hopefully no blue screen of death.
"There is nothing in the world like the first taste of beer" ― John Steinbeck
I planned on stopping at San Luis Obispo, since as depressed as I was, the foggy, small surf in Ventura was not going to cheer me up, I might as well get the day over with. But the sky opened up past Santa Barbara, so I opted to camp at Gaviota State Park and enjoy the sun and the beach one more time. The campground here is one of the most heavily sought after reservations in California, but on this weekday, there were only 3 of us in a camp for 40. I had the entire beach to myself, and though there wasn’t much to surf, I paddled out anyway, baptizing and cleansing myself of the hardest part of my journey. Surf, beer, one last opportunity to work on my tan, and dinner by campfire under the starlight. No better way to end the day. Maybe another beer.
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| Camping at Gaviota State Beach, 100 ft tall trestles |
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| Last bit of sun and surf |
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| ATG, beer and sun... |
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| ... and fire! |
I looked for interesting stops the next day, and found them. Gaviota Hot Springs, just a short hike/run away, and the Lemon Grove trail on the bike in San Luis Obispo. Too bad, I was too warm to jump in the hot springs, having run the long way to get there. Plus, I had no beer (it was 8 in the morning). The bike trail was difficult on my touring bike. Someone convince my wife I need a full suspension downhill bike, too.
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| Tunnel view |
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| Gaviota hot springs, well, warm springs |
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| Two of them! |
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| Lemon Grove trail in SLO |
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| The climbs were ridiculous |
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| but the views were worth it |
"There was once a man who’d become unstuck in the world – and he traveled around like a leaf in the wind until he reached the place where he started out. His car, his job, his phone, his shoes – everything was right where he’d left it. Nothing had changed, and yet he felt excited to have arrived here – as if this were the place he’d been going all along."
By mid-day, I arrived “home”, as thick groves of tall trees overtook the landscape. And I arrived home, right where I wanted to go. It was a grand mid-life opportunity, time to spare with the perspective of middle-age, with more appreciation and gratitude for my life than ever before.
"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – he realized that he was not his car, he realized that he was not his job, he was not his phone, his desk or his shoes. Like a boat cut from its anchor, he’d begin to drift."
"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – he took the wind for a map, he took the sky for a clock, and he set off with no destination. He was never lost."
"There once was a man who became unstuck in the world – instead of hooks or a net, he threw himself into the sea. He was never thirsty."
"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – with a Polaroid camera he made pictures of all the people he met, and then he gave all the pictures away. He would never forget their faces."
"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – and each person he met became a little less stuck themselves. He traveled only with himself and he was never alone."
"There was once a man who’d become unstuck in the world – and he traveled around like a leaf in the wind until he reached the place where he started out. His car, his job, his phone, his shoes – everything was right where he’d left it. Nothing had changed, and yet he felt excited to have arrived here – as if this were the place he’d been going all along."
... Taylor Steele
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