BackBone Trail 2nd Half
Updated: Apr 18, 2024
(July 30-August 1)
"Hey Tony, you want to hike BackBone with me? It's long, but I did the math and I think we could do it in a day."
"BackBone? I haven't heard of it. But sure."
That was Carl, posing the question sometime in November or October. This was a mission spawned early in my senior year but which really started to take shape at the beginning of the summer, when we added Quinn and Billy. BackBone Trail is a massive, 67 mile long trail running the entire length of the Santa Monica Mountains in Southern California, from Will Rogers Trailhead in the southeast to the Ray Miller Trailhead in the northwest, from LA to Sandstone Peak and back down to the ocean. It is a wonderful, long, and intense series of climbs and descents, and our inane goal was to hike it all in one go, which we figured was possible if we started at 3 am, hiked for a little over 19 hours at a brisk 3.5 mile an hour pace, and finished sometime around 10 o'clock.
It was a crazy idea, but in many ways that's why we wanted to do it--after all, we were comfortable doing 7 and 10 mile day hikes, and this seemed like the ultimate challenge. One day of little sleep, continuous hiking, countless plateaus, ridges, climbs and vistas, and a refreshing dip in the Pacific Ocean if we managed to finish it enticing us at the end. It would be a test of friendship, of sheer willpower, of physical endurance, of mental adaptability and hiking prowess, of everything we had loved and when we decided to create The Outdoors Club senior year.
However, reality quickly set in. The fact was, as the year progressed and our personal relationships ebbed and flowed, so did our relationship with hiking. Carl, who had initially suggested the idea, became burned out and didn't join in on the weekend hikes, and as for me, I had a little medical hiccup which took me out of the game for awhile. Compounding these realities was the fact that when we did actually get around to concretely planning the quest, the only available time slot where all four of us could hike together was a three day window at the end of July, and this presented several problems.
The first was, most obviously, that the time frame was in July, and the BackBone trail had minimum amounts of shade and even fewer water refill spots, considering the creeks and streams would all be dry and the water spickets were few and far between. Also, while the proximity of the trail to the ocean meant ocean breezes and increased cloud cover, temperatures still often spiked into the nineties when hiking in the tall grasses and brush, which had exploded in growth during the previous spring.
The second looming issue was that we were planning to hike an ultra-marathon on a tough course with little to no experience. Even going by car on a freeway, it would take one almost an hour to travel what we were trying to hike! Logistically, we'd need people supplying us with copious amounts of food and water along the way, and we'd need checkpoints and the like to ensure safety. Physically, we'd need to train for hours each day, because while we could maintain a 3.5 mile an hour pace for ten miles, doing so with a pack on your back for 19 hours is a whole other story.
So, the 67 mile single-day ambition quickly shifted to a 67 mile three-day backpacking persuit, which ultimately evolved once more into a 33 mile three-day backpacking trip, with help along the way. It was achievable, yet still a challenge, and for this I obsessed over it.
Like I'd mentioned previously, I had no previous knowledge of the trail, except for the small spit of climb from Yerba Buena road to Sandstone Peak, otherwise known as Mount Allen. So I got to work. I downloaded a PDF of the trail and poured over it, finding areas I'd hiked near and roads I'd driven on. I went on AllTrails and the National Parks site and countless other blogs and websites eating up information and mapping out the route. I also read books and articles on backpacking and hiking essentials and weather. Furthermore, I planned to hike each section for each day beforehand, and I talked to the other BackBone Boys (Billy Quinn and Carl) who had more experience in the area and in backpacking. If this trek were to fail, I made sure it wouldn't be for lack of preparation.
The Hike
Day 1 was all about getting from Kanan Road to our spot out by Yerba Buena Road, a 13 mile 2000 foot gross elevation trek which was arguably our toughest day. When I first hiked this segment the week before, I'd carried a thirty
pound backpacking pack with 224 oz of water and enough gorp to feed a family, roughly four pounds worth. I ended up drinking only 48 oz of water with another 24 after the hike, and I barely made a dent in the gorp.
A few days prior to the hike, Carl wasn't feeling good, so he decided to not do the first day, meaning I would be the only with any knowledge of the route. This time, I brought one less water bottle (three, not four 24oz containers plus the one gallon backup) along with a snack bag of 16 granola bars and a much smaller bag of gorp. In addition, I brought a small medical kit, several emergency ponchos and lightweight emergency blankets, a whistle, some outdoor bathroom materials, toiletries, and of course my bedding.
Early the morning of July 30th, we met at Blake's house, drove to the trailhead, and started out. It was 5:00 am at that point, and our headlamps were well needed, though nothing could prevent us from walking into the countless garden-spider webs. At the start, we also saw Daddy Long-legs and lots of thumb-sized frogs, so many in fact that it was hard to avoid stepping on them, especially since they blended in perfectly with the gray rock. Later on we saw a rabbit and an abundance of quail, all while the cicadas and crickets chirped mechanically into the day.
As we slowly ascended, the sun started to come up and crest the mountains, creating one of the most beautiful sunrises I've ever seen, beset by a wilderness with no other people besides us and the melancholy mist hanging in the air. It was a time of intense beauty, made even more so by our straining legs and laboring bodies, which seemed to purify the experience in a way which made us all that much more appreciatve of the wonder in which we were presented. I can't fully explain what can only be experienced, but it was as if, through our struggle, we were entering once more into that primal cycle of death and life, predator and prey, which our ancestors had lived for so long, and thus it allowed us to become closer to ourselves and the world than at few other times.
As the day wore on, the sun came out and the mist dissipated. It was at this point, roughly nine-thirty to ten o'clock, that the hike changed from a trek into a grind. It wasn't just the time of day that made it tough, it was this specific section of trail.
You see, from Kanan to Encinal Canyon Road, the path meanders around the mountains and into a valley, where it shoulders a shady creek before tiptoeing uphill to the road. However, while the stretch from Encinal Canyon Road to Muholland Highway seems fairly innocuous on the map, it is at this point that the real climb starts through a series of switchbacks up the mountain. Evidence of this appears in an aptly named offshoot named "Agony."
After only a couple miles, one arrives at Muholland, where the trail is infused with a Mario-Cart level speed boost in elevation gain, and the grind continues with little shade. Keep in mind if you are hiking this part of the trail that this is a frequented mountain biking spot, so keep your ears and eyes open, they come around those corners fast! Unfortunately, it was also during this segment that Blake twisted his ankle rather badly, meaning he couldn't hike the second and third day, though he walked it out like the absolute beast he is.
Anyway, eventually one arrives at a fireroad, which snakes up and around the mountain in beautiful fashion. For us, this section was the hardest due to the heat, even though it was only ten o'clock, but given any other time of the year I'm sure it's pleasant. From this point on, the views are incredible, as one can see the ocean and the many hills and valleys leading up to it. Slowly, the grade decreases until it becomes only a slight uphill, and as we crossed Yerba Buena Road, we started to see more shade spots.
Finally, after thirteen miles, we got to our destination and hung out the rest of day under some bushes trailside. It wasn't very comfortable, especially since we waited there for hours until dark on the rocks and dry leaves, but it was part of the experience, and well worth it because of that. Please be aware if you are to hike for a multiday trip as we did that there are few campsites along the BackBone trail, which makes it hard to complete without stealthcamping, which I don't recommend. We were lucky in that we had a friend's house close by which we slept at, though we still "camped out" and were able to view the stars at night. It was here that Carl brought the camping food and extra water before preparing for the next day when he would join us.
Day 2 we woke up around 4:30, dissasembled our camp, and returned to the place we had finished at along Yerba Buena Road. We hiked probably around 3-4 miles in waning darkness to a place called Mishe Mokwa, a trail hub and parking lot located on Yerba Buena Road, where we met Carl, resupplied, ate breakfast, and started our climb up Sandstone Peak, our first objective.
Sandstone Peak, sometimes referred to as Mount Allen, is the tallest mountain in the Santa Monica mountains at 3,114 feet tall. It has several routes up, but we decided to take the most direct and efficient one, which landed us near the summit in about a half hour. The BackBone Trail officially doesn't summit the peak, but it's close enough that it'd be only a 5-10 minute detour if one wanted to, and a well worth-it one I might add, for the views are stunning.
A little past Sandstone is a plateau encircled by the Tri-Peaks and Mount Boney, and which we originally meant to end our day it. However, we had decided since it was such a short distance and the time waiting for night would be rather long, that we would just combine our second and third segment and do it all in one go.
So, after completing the Sandstone climb, we made our way slowly down the mountain through bushes and foxtail weeds. I highly recommend for this reason wearing light pants when hiking this trail, as even the first section contained this type of plant growth. Several miles later, we came across a marker for Henry Chamberlain, a man who loved and adored the mountains, a sentiment I can relate to, especially at that location.
This specific stretch of the trail, from Sandstone to a junction near Sycamore Canyon fire road, was one of the most beautiful stretches of wilderness I have seen, and probably my favorite within Ventura County. It was rarely traveled, which made sense considering the vast distance and elevation decrease between the start and finishing points, though the breathtaking sights gave one a perfect picture of the divine beauty of the Santa Monica Mountains: the vibrant dark blue ocean, the meandering hills, the colorful bushes in every shade of brown and green, the beautiful flowers, the graceful hawks and vultures, and of course the peaks and crags of the mountains. We were hiking directly next to Boney Peak, which forms a part of a ridge which one can see from Simi Valley, Ventura and Thousand Oaks. The beauty and majesty truly abounded throughout.
Five miles of gentle descending later we stopped at the aforementioned juntion near Sycamore Canyon Fire Road and chose to do the slightly longer two mile official BackBone Trail down the remaining distance to the valley. Here we saw many spider webs and flowers and then came upon a creek, which we straddled until the fire road. The only down side here was that this part was overflowing with poison oak, so much so that it was a miracle I never got any rash. At one point, it felt like walking through a carwash trying to avoid the little toxic destroyers.
Upon exiting that obstacle course, we made our way to the Danielson Ranch Multi-Use Area, where we sat down and enjoyed some granola bars. We then stood up and marched down the popular fire road to the next segment of the hike which would take us up another mountain and down to the ocean and the Ray Miller trailhead.
Yet before we could start on that final climb and descent, we had a choice to make. A creek separated us from the fork, and the only dry path went through cloves of poison oak. We debated for a while on which way was best and on the possability of an alternate route, though eventually we conceded to reality. One complication was that Carl wanted very reasonably to just take the unobstructed Big Sycamore Creek Fire Road back to the ocean and avoid all the nasty plants and water crossing because it emptied very close to the Ray Miller exit point. The downside was, that would mean not taking the BackBone Trail, and while it certainly presented a very enticing offer, I hadn't hiked all this way to deviate from my goal in the last five or so miles.
Quinn agreed with me, but Carl's body didn't budge in its adamance to take the easier route (proabably because he was still a bit sick), and so we decided to split up and meet back at the ocean, where Carl's brother would pick us up and return us to his car parked at Mishe Mokwa. In many other contexts, splitting up a group of three like this would not be a sensible course of action, but each of us knew the area better than the back of our hand and we were very close to the PCH, which, if it was possible, we all knew even better.
Consequently, we soon went on our separate ways, Quinn and I up the mountain and into the switchbacks and Carl on down the beautiful valley. The mountain was rife with mountain bikes, and several came closer to hitting us than was comfortable, though that fact also guaranteed the grade here remained rather mellow. Other than that, we experienced more sun exposure than the descent into the valley, though the proximity to the ocean lessened the heat. Still, along this ascent I opened my gallon water bottle for the first time and eventually emptied it into Quinn and I's Nalgenes over the next thirty or so minutes.
Other than the beauty and the solemnity in nature, that stretch epitomized my love for the outdoors in that it was a shared struggle, a grind, an utter burn to the legs and a test to the lungs. It was everything I'd been training for for the past three months, and to see myself pull through and to be able to complete that climb was immensely satisfying. I still had blisters, and Quinn a bad knee, but that in no way diminished the sense of accomplisment and the fun of walking down that last stretch of trail with a view of the spectacular Pacific knowing we had done it, that we had accomplished a goal which we had been thinking about for over half a year.
I look forward to doing it again.
Comments