La Jolla Valley Walk-In Camp (SMM)
You may say, "dear blogger, I love the Santa Monica Mountains (SMM), but where oh where can I camp? Are there cheap spots I can go?"
And I will answer such inquiries as follows:
"my dearest hiker, why yes, there are several spots you can camp. And likely the cheapest? It's called La Jolla Valley Walk-In."
Which is what we are going to talk about today.
You see, I have been getting into backpacking, and I wanted to test my gear out on a cheap, easy, and quick backpacking trip in the SMM. So I chose a one day trip where me and a buddy hiked south from Newbury Park to a spot near the Sycamore Canyon trail, stayed the night, and hiked out the next day via the Ray Miller trail.
If that sounds familiar, it is--Ray Miller is the eastern terminus of the Backbone trail and a 10/10 on the "why aren't we there yet" scale. And Sycamore Canyon Trail? Backbone crosses it to get to Ray Miller. Suffice it to say, I was very familiar with the area. Much of it I had hiked in daytime as well as night. But I had never gone into La Jolla Valley (which is not in San Diego in this case), and I was anxious to check it out.
So here we go.
Day 1: A Day of Learning
We wake up, we pack, then we drop the car off and head to the trailhead at roughly 2 o'clock pm. Look, did my pack weigh 35 lbs for a one night trip? Yes. And did I choose to hike out at the hottest part of a midsummer day? Yes. Clearly, I haven't learned my lesson.
The thing is, we were excited. And all that energy, we used to speed walk our way through the meadows to the Satwiwa Native American Indian Culture Center, where we took a short break and got barked at by a friendly pug. Then, we walked along Big Sycamore Canyon Road to Danielson Ranch, where we took another short break.
In my head I was thinking, "Okay, Big Sycamore Canyon Rd (or Sycamore Canyon Rd or Sycamore Canyon Fire Rd etc. etc. idek) is about 7 miles long, which means this first day should be around 4 miles, pretty light, not too bad. We're at the Ranch, and it's been something like 2 miles, so we should have like 2 to go, nice nice very cool."
Looking back, it was not cool. However far it was to Danielson Ranch, it was probably double that to our campsite. So here we are, sweating (not walking) down the road and on this trail for maybe 3 or 4 hours, looking for the right trail, missing it, doubling back, finding it, then missing the next offshoot, finding it, then finally making it to Wood Canyon Rd, which we headed up. It was definitely a lesson in making sure to plan the route, no matter how accustomed to the surrounding trails you are.
Wood Canyon was quite serene as there was barely anyone out, and I'm pretty sure we heard the call of the mountain lion, though I could be wrong. Like many trails in the SMM, it was gentle-sloping, wide, and bordering a stream, which we eventually crossed. The birds chirped, the stream gurgled, and the mountain lion watched from afar.
All of a sudden, Wood Canyon Rd became steep and shadeless as it headed into La Jolla Valley. And while I should have expected this, I didn't communicate this to my friend, who isn't nearly as into hiking as I am. Remember too, we're both carrying packs that weigh somewhere around thirty pounds, it is midsummer, there are no clouds in the sky, and we've already been hiking for 3 hours, which in this cased mattered more than the total miles (maybe 5?). But where I had been training for the last few months, where I had been fine-tuning every part of my gear, where I had been carrying packs of bricks up local mountains (I wish I was kidding those were not easy days) to train to hike bigger mountains, my buddy had not. Understandably, the dude was doing more normal things, like fine-tuning his finance skills and carrying packs of Ben Franklins to the bank. So not only was it extremely difficult, but there was no turning back considering turning around was just as uphill and long as going forward, perhaps even more so.
Unfortunately, it became a slog--a long, hard, unforgiving march up a wide and hot trail. I watched as my lack of planning and communication led to my buddy's suffering, with little I could do about it. I was able to carry a lot of his stuff up the hill, and I encouraged and supported him as best I could, but beyond that I couldn't do much
beyond monitor him for signs of heat exhaustion, dehydration, and sunburn. Seeing him struggle was one of the most frustrating things I've seen on trail, and I know there's no way I'm ever letting it happen again. It's one thing if I'm pushing my body's limits and I signed up for it, it's another thing entirely to be at least partially responsible for someone else going through that without them knowing they would have to.
To his credit, he did make it up the hill, a champion.
Past that intense patch of hill was, finally, La Jolla Valley. If it was empty before, it was even emptier now, with not a person in sight save the occasional mountain bike. Going through those fields, as the sun was setting and the grasses swayed in the breeze, is a memory I don't think I'll forget for a long time. Soon we made it to the campground, and we chose a place to pitch our tent near a pit toilet. Bougie.
There was no water or other resources, so we took out our stores and made dinner. I think it was because it was late summer, there was a pond nearby, and it was the evening, but while preparing that dinner I have never been bitten by so many mosquitos in my entire life. I can still feel them now, a hundred little pinpricks all over my body--my hands, arms, ankles, legs, shoulders, torso, neck, face--it was crazy, even more so because I was already doused in a puddle of bug spray big enough to put out a fire.
Soon enough though, we packed away our food and put in for the night. The tent kept out the bugs (shout-out Durston gear) and I slept
extremely well. For most of the night I used a sleeping back liner because of the heat, and then when it became cold I just threw over my unzipped sleeping bag. I even had a pillow.
Come morning, and the sound of Mexican music lulls me out of my sleep. We brushed our teeth, made some breakfast (or really just ate leftovers), and started onto day 2.
Day 2: A Day of Meandering
It was post breakfast 0800, and the day was alive with opportunity. The sun was out, the birds were singing, and lo and behold, the lovely patient respectful mosquitos were at it again. Once we got going though, it really was beautiful again.
On our way out we saw the biggest orb weaver spiders I had ever
seen, just massive little beasts hanging out a little above eye level. If we didn't have places to be, I would have liked to study them more. Also, despite hearing the music we only saw two other people on the trail
near camp, and they looked like day hikers, so it was all a mystery. Do I really have to live with the fact that I'll never find that playlist? If there is one thing I really enjoyed about this trip, it was the lack of people saw. It felt like we had the whole area just to ourselves, and the serenity of the Southern Californian chaparral biome is rarely matched.
At first, we hiked down the Loop Trail, which we were sure connected to the La Jolla Canyon parking lot, but it turns out the connector trail was closed and we had to truck it back the way we had come. That was a bummer, though in the future I plan to hike that trail which I think could be really beautiful. A hour or so later, after arriving back at the intersection marking the end of the hill of the slog, we turned onto the overlook trail. There we trundled along, quiet in our determination.
This is where the meandering really began, since we never went that far up or down hill and when we did it was very gradual. The views soon proved nice and we had a backdrop of Boney Mountain reaching through the clouds as the ocean got ever closer.
Within the hour we started down the Ray Miller trail, which as I alluded to earlier frustrates me because it is so so long for a trail that just goes to the ocean from the mountains. My impatience makes me a much bigger fan of the nearby Chumash Trail, which I plan to write about soon and is linked here. Regardless, the Ray Miller trail has good views and altogether admittedly is not a bad trail, especially if you wanted to trail-run it or do so for reps.
On my way down I ended up doing some squats with my pack, which was surprisingly fun and a good workout. Some people joined me, my friend was doing a lot better (still a trooper), and there were some great views, so I had a good time. In the future I'll probably do some more squats on a mountain side--it was a total vibe.
Quickly enough, we arrived at the car, and the trip had officially reached its end, roughly 10 miles and a whole lot of sweat after starting. 7/10 for the adventure, 3/10 for the fun, 10/10 for the way my friend pulled through. I imagine he's relaxing in a sauna as we speak, regretting his decision to ever go along with me on a "light and easy" backpacking trip.
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