Not a Blazing Comet but I’m Still Satisfied
Although I expect every one of my valley adventures to be just as spectacular as the one before it, I have to accept that they can't all be luminous highlights. My recent adventure may not end up as the best of my recommended destinations, but it turned out to be the perfect trip at the time. And when considered in the context of my entire day in the Valley, it was an absolutely perfect way to welcome spring to Santa Ynez. Hoping to combine the best elements of the approaching spring season, I planned a trip to Figueroa Mountain, knowing that it never disappoints as a destination because it offers a variety of activities and diverse scenery. And, since I'm still recovering from a broken collarbone suffered in a bicycle accident this January, I knew I could find an activity on Figueroa that wouldn't be overly strenuous, but would allow me to get outside and enjoy the wildflower blooms and beautiful weather.
Because I only make it to the mountain once every few months, I'm always treated to a beautiful display of new seasonal colors. After looking at a map and consulting my guidebook, I planned a trip to Ranger Peak Trail, located high on top of Figueroa Mountain Road, which assured I'd get to see every bloom in every meadow all the way up the winding road. I allowed myself extra time for the drive up Figueroa, which has always been one of the best places in all of Santa Ynez for viewing spring flowers, most notably poppies and lupine, which both seem to be basking in their full glory right now. Although our winter so far has been disappointingly dry, there has been just enough rain to temporarily paint the hills with a carpet of green from one side of the Valley to the other.
If the weather conditions continue as they have, there is going to be a very short window of time to see the shades of green as they climb their way up Figueroa and the surrounding hillsides. Each year we have only a limited number of months before the grass transitions to the honey-colored familiarity it takes for most of the year.
Driving up the mountain, there was one spot in particular I was eager to see, the same one that several years ago offered the mother load of blooms. That particular visit had occurred on a cloudy day, but my recent trek took place under clear blue skies and the warmth of the afternoon sun.
As I made my ascent, each meadow offered increasingly more flowers and diversity in color, but none matched the intensity of what I had remembered on one hillside far up the mountain. About 13 miles up the road, after rounding a corner just past the ranger station, the mountain erupted in a blaze of orange and lavender, an entire hillside covered with thousands of poppies and lupine.
The sight in itself is worth the drive up Figueroa. I parked my car, got out and snapped dozens of pictures of the vibrant display. After walking around with my camera for about 15 minutes, I continued up the road towards my intended destination.
Approximately 14.5 miles up Figueroa Mountain Road is a large meadow, the top of which has a metal gate connected to an old, rusted set of poles that loosely comprise a fence. When closed the gate prevents access to the top of Figueroa, but is generally open and allows traffic to continue to the top and down the backside with several options for loops or backcountry access. I parked near the gate at the top of the turnout. From here the remnants of a trail lead from between the poles into a grove of towering pine trees. I used an older guidebook and newer map. Though Ranger Peak Trail was well described in the book, it was not marked on the map. This concerned me a little as I knew the map was a newer account of the terrain, yet I was unsure whether it attempted to cover every trail in the region. Either way, I felt confident about the direction I was headed and it was a gorgeous afternoon.
From the gate the trail climbed steeply through the grove to a saddle overlooking the Valley in several directions. I noticed immediately the lack of human footprints or mountain bike tracks. Far more prevalent were hundreds of hoof prints and enormous cow pies. But this didn't dampen my curiosity. Immediately the trail presented unique landscapes and new terrain I had never seen before on Figueroa, so I was excited to continue and see what lay ahead.
Descending from the saddle into the canyon I followed the remnants of the trail through a wide meadow that has clearly, from the sight and smell, been used as grazing lands. Notably missing were any signs or trail markers indicating that I was actually on a trail. After consulting my guidebook again, the cow trail seemed to head the general direction described in the book. And since this was the only path slightly resembling a trail, my only other choice would have been to turn around. From the meadow the trail follows a wide ridge to the east, cutting across a chaparral-covered hillside.
After following the ridge for a while the trail drops steeply down a rocky face. Much of this section is quite wide, and despite the lack of signage, the path is pretty obvious thanks to the trail left by the cows. After dropping down the steep and rocky face, the trail seemed to disappear over another small ridge, yet the majority of the hoof prints continued to the right into a grassy hillside. From the description in my book I guessed that the trail continued over the ridge. I continued this way for a while until my motivation and sense of adventure subsided. My recent injury and subsequent recovery has slowed me down for the past couple of months, which has forced me at times to concentrate on enjoying the journey rather than focusing so much on a destination. This was the perfect approach for this particular hike. Whether I was actually on an official trail didn't matter to me, nor did I worry about making it to a landmark or specific destination.
I was quite content to meander along admiring the landscape and the affect the cattle had had on it. I also took a lot of time to enjoy the extensive views and unique perspective offered from this particular ridge jutting into Happy Canyon. Rather than force my way down what may or may not have been a trail in search of a destination I wasn't sure existed, after about 45 minutes I turned around and began the climb back up the hill. As it turned out, most of the hike out is downhill, which may account for my urge to meander. Conversely, the return hike is almost entirely uphill, which is steep and fairly strenuous, offering a different experience for the return trip.
Almost the entire path is exposed to the sun, so it may not be the best trail to do on a hot summer day. Similarly, it's difficult to say whether what I was walking on is actually a trail, so if you decide to go explore this area, do so at your own risk. Although it does involve some steep and strenuous climbing, made more difficult from the uneven ground, the adventure nonetheless felt more like a walk through a meadow than a hike. Although this particular destination may not be as special as others I’ve enjoyed, it is worth seeing, especially if you manage to combine the drive up Figueroa to see the wildflowers with the beautiful walk. The walk along the front and back of the ridge took me about an hour and a half, and could easily be modified according to how long you might want to go exploring.
Getting there is easy. From Downtown Los Olives head straight up Figueroa Mountain for approximately 14.5 miles until you enter a large meadow surrounding the road on either side. There is a huge turnout on the right side, and the brown rusted gate is impossible to miss. This trip makes for a beautiful day in the Valley and a wonderful way to welcome spring.