Ventana Wilderness: Carrizo / Arroyo Seco October 23-24, 2004 The first big snowstorm of the autumn in the Sierras had put an end to alpine ice-climbing season, so I decided to head for the Ventana and work on a favorite trail, the Carrizo. Rising 3200' from the San Antonio river, this trail has views of sandstone cliffs and Pimkolam (Junipero Serra Peak, 5900') and was used historically by Native Americans and homesteaders. The USFS no longer maintains the trail however, so it's now an all-volunteer effort. The rugged terrain of the still-uplifting Santa Lucia mountains makes this hike a challenge. Day 1: 8 miles, 3200' -- Started from the Indians USFS station / Memorial Park campground, and walked about 2 miles along the road to the Carrizo trailhead. Saw my first tarantula of the season, and marveled at the sandstone formations that graced the area. Reportedly there are petroglyphs hidden somewhere in the sandstone cliffs. Instead of heading down to the Salsipuedes bridge trailhead directly, I decided to take a somewhat spicier route, and found a use trail down to the creek, which was low enough to rock-hop at this time of the season. This led to various other hunter's trails, around a pile of sandstone boulders and finally to the Carrizo itself, which I followed uphill in earnest. Soon the terrain opened up, and grand views followed. The sky was mostly clear, but I could see clouds coming in from the north, though not threateningly so. The trail became rockier and made its way through brush, with a grand view around 2500' of the Santa Lucia mountains above the Salsipeudes ranch. Around 3300' I reached Carrizo Camp. The creek was dry and the tent spots looked uninviting. I could hear water gurgling downstream, and reeds blocked the trail nearby, so there was definitely water underground. My pruning shears dispatched the reeds shortly. About a half mile above the camp was a spot which would be much nicer for camping if one were to carry water up. I'd stopped for a break there before and marvelled at the 20-30' sandstone formations, never thinking to get up on them. This time I decided to go for a little scramble, taking several routes, and even trying to chimney up between two of them. Going straight up the face of one of them looked like it required some overhanging moves, and soon I decided to just sit back and have lunch. Just above this spot was a saddle (3900') with views of Cone Peak (5150') and the dramatic terrain of the San Antonio watershed. I soon got underway, clipping and sawing back thick brush. It took me three hours to go less than a mile to the next waypoint, the divide between the San Antonio and Arroyo Seco watersheds. The sky was grey and cloudy now, but didn't look like rain just yet. The trail tread after the divide became indistinct, and sometimes disappeared, requiring edging across steep slopes. At this elevation the footlong cones of the sugar pine mixed with those of giant Coulters and bigleaf maples. Massive blowdowns required carefully descending and ascending through brush, rocks, and branches. Then there was the final push up through the chaparral on what was at one time a switchback-free tractor trail. Finally I arrived at the junction with the Coast Ridge trail (4750'), dirty, scratched, smelling slightly of late-season yerba santa, but otherwise happy. The short hike down to Cook Spring camp felt like a walk in the park by comparison. As I made dinner the sun came out, parting the clouds. I watched the gibbous moon rise, then fell asleep quickly. Day 2: 6 miles, mostly downhill -- Awoke around 5:30 to what looked like fog. The ridge was enveloped in a cloud from what I could tell, and moisture collected on leaves like a light rain. I'd been planning a long hike for today, but while marching through miles of tall brush in good weather is simply challenging, doing so when said brush is soaking wet is just miserable, and there would be no views of the sea or inland ridges with all the fog. I decided to go for the short hike out. After packing my wet tarp and such I headed back up to Coast Ridge, and then down to the Arroyo Seco trail. Full raingear, since most of the first part of the way was through high, wet brush. The sun was starting to come out as I descended, making for dramatic views of the cliffs above the Arroyo Seco river. Short, burned knobcone pines in this area rose above the chaparral. The trail was mostly rocky sandstone. Soon the trail left the chaparral, paralleling the creek, and the mid-morning sun was warm enough to make removing my drenched raingear a necessity. There were only a few familiar blowdowns to get up and around in this area of mixed oak and madrone forest. The three creek crossings between there and the trailhead were easily rock-hopped (I'd had the experience of calf-to-thigh-deep chilly water to wade there in midwinter). Soon I returned to the car, happy to change into dry clothes and head for home. The clouds that formed the advance guard of the next Pacific storm raced across the sky as I made my way back to 101.