Hail to the Chief
This past weekend took me back to the Topatopa mountains outside Ojai, after my first trip last month took me up Nordhoff Peak. My final goal is Topatopa bluff, which I plan to do next month. For a dress rehearsal, I decided on Chief Peak, which sits right between Nordhoff and Topatopa. It turned out to be much more than I bargained for.
To get to Chief Peak, you have to hike into the back country and find the Nordhoff Ridge fire road. There are several ways to do that. If you really want a long-distance hike, you could even do it from the Gridley Canyon trail I took last month. I chose the route up through Horn Canyon, because the distance and the altitude gain looked comparable to the Topatopa Bluff hike I was preparing for. The start of the trail is sandwiched in between an avocado grove and Ojai's Thacher School. In fact, the last quarter-mile or so of the road was blocked by some construction, so I had to park in the Thacher parking lot. The trail is almost flat at first, hopping across Thacher Creek a couple of times, but then it starts climbing and doesn't quit until you reach the four-mile mark - a rocky climb that puts you in pretty close contact with nature.
Once you're at the top of Horn Canyon, it's another mile before you even see Chief Peak, but as you can see in the photo above, it's quite a sight. Another two miles and you reach something vaguely resembling a side trail that leads up the rocky ridge on the mountain's south face. I'd read hiking blogs on the mountain, and one claimed this trail was better than the more commonly-used one on the north face because you didn't have to go all the way around the mountain to reach it. I took that advice, thinking it would be a steep but short climb.
I was halfway up before I realized I was wrong. At that point, I found myself on a small patch of ground with boulders all around me, unsure of which one - if any - was the next one I should pick to continue my ascent. It was tough and tricky and there were points when I didn't dare look behind me at the fire road below. A series of small cairns people had put on some of the boulders was my only guide as I kept climbing. I was telling myself that I could just take the other trail back down. Sure, I'd have to go around the mountain on the way back, but it would be better than trying to pick my way back down through the boulders.
At last, I reached the top - and couldn't see another trail. There was nothing but boulders, not even much ground to stand on. Another hiker soon joined me. I'm still not sure what route he took, because I hadn't seen him the whole way. He'd seen me, though. "You came up by the goat trail!" he exclaimed. Yes, that's me. Just call me Goat Trail Bob.
He'd barely been there a few minutes when he took off again. I stayed behind, still looking for the promised alternate trail - but I didn't find it. In retrospect, I think I know where it probably was, and if I'd kept looking in the direction I tried, I probably would have found it. But I was a bit panicked and so instead I doubled back to see where the other hiker had gone, but by the time I spotted him he was already a good way down, and I couldn't figure out how he'd gotten there. It was already mid-afternoon and I still had seven miles to hike even after I'd gotten back down to the road. There was no choice but to go back down the ridge.
By the time I finally made it back to the top of Horn Canyon, it was already past 5:00. I hustled back down as quickly as I could, but it still took another two hours and change. But I must say, the trek gave me a look at the canyon at a time when I wouldn't have seen it otherwise. Things change as evening approaches. The daytime creatures start to gather together and prepare to turn in - a couple of bushes I passed looked like "butterfly happy hour" - while the night shift begins to emerge. Fortunately, I made it back before any mosquitoes found me.
After an odyssey like that, I'm pretty sure I'm ready for Topatopa, a little more than three weeks away now. I'm also pretty sure it will have some surprises in store for me, but I think I can handle them.
To get to Chief Peak, you have to hike into the back country and find the Nordhoff Ridge fire road. There are several ways to do that. If you really want a long-distance hike, you could even do it from the Gridley Canyon trail I took last month. I chose the route up through Horn Canyon, because the distance and the altitude gain looked comparable to the Topatopa Bluff hike I was preparing for. The start of the trail is sandwiched in between an avocado grove and Ojai's Thacher School. In fact, the last quarter-mile or so of the road was blocked by some construction, so I had to park in the Thacher parking lot. The trail is almost flat at first, hopping across Thacher Creek a couple of times, but then it starts climbing and doesn't quit until you reach the four-mile mark - a rocky climb that puts you in pretty close contact with nature.
Once you're at the top of Horn Canyon, it's another mile before you even see Chief Peak, but as you can see in the photo above, it's quite a sight. Another two miles and you reach something vaguely resembling a side trail that leads up the rocky ridge on the mountain's south face. I'd read hiking blogs on the mountain, and one claimed this trail was better than the more commonly-used one on the north face because you didn't have to go all the way around the mountain to reach it. I took that advice, thinking it would be a steep but short climb.
I was halfway up before I realized I was wrong. At that point, I found myself on a small patch of ground with boulders all around me, unsure of which one - if any - was the next one I should pick to continue my ascent. It was tough and tricky and there were points when I didn't dare look behind me at the fire road below. A series of small cairns people had put on some of the boulders was my only guide as I kept climbing. I was telling myself that I could just take the other trail back down. Sure, I'd have to go around the mountain on the way back, but it would be better than trying to pick my way back down through the boulders.
At last, I reached the top - and couldn't see another trail. There was nothing but boulders, not even much ground to stand on. Another hiker soon joined me. I'm still not sure what route he took, because I hadn't seen him the whole way. He'd seen me, though. "You came up by the goat trail!" he exclaimed. Yes, that's me. Just call me Goat Trail Bob.
He'd barely been there a few minutes when he took off again. I stayed behind, still looking for the promised alternate trail - but I didn't find it. In retrospect, I think I know where it probably was, and if I'd kept looking in the direction I tried, I probably would have found it. But I was a bit panicked and so instead I doubled back to see where the other hiker had gone, but by the time I spotted him he was already a good way down, and I couldn't figure out how he'd gotten there. It was already mid-afternoon and I still had seven miles to hike even after I'd gotten back down to the road. There was no choice but to go back down the ridge.
By the time I finally made it back to the top of Horn Canyon, it was already past 5:00. I hustled back down as quickly as I could, but it still took another two hours and change. But I must say, the trek gave me a look at the canyon at a time when I wouldn't have seen it otherwise. Things change as evening approaches. The daytime creatures start to gather together and prepare to turn in - a couple of bushes I passed looked like "butterfly happy hour" - while the night shift begins to emerge. Fortunately, I made it back before any mosquitoes found me.
After an odyssey like that, I'm pretty sure I'm ready for Topatopa, a little more than three weeks away now. I'm also pretty sure it will have some surprises in store for me, but I think I can handle them.
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