Tour de Los Padres April 11-14 - Part 1

Los Padres: View from my camping spot, Sunday morning

The Tour de Los Padres is a new multi-day bikepacking route in Southern California, thanks to the scouting and planning efforts of Erin Carroll, a landscape architect in Santa Barbara. I was riding for four full days and it was a great excursion into surprisingly remote and isolated areas with great scenery. There were more than 2 days (days 3 and 4) when I saw no car and no other people (except two other cyclists who started at the same time), making it more isolated than any stretch of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route/Tour Divide (where I don’t think I ever had more than 24 uninterrupted hours alone).

I used my new bike, a titanium frame by Eriksen (the guy who founded Moots cycles) with a Rohloff hub, a 14-speed internal shifting system. Not sure yet what I think of Rohloff yet, needs a few more rides. A German engineering marvel, for sure, less sensitive to mud and difficult riding conditions, but also more sluggish shifting and more weight (but at more than $1000 for the hub, it lightens your wallet sufficiently to make up for its extra weight). On this ride and with those conditions, standard derailleurs would have worked better for me. I also changed the rest of my setup compared to Stagecoach: Much less need for water, but fewer resupply possibilities require more food. I traded 2 bottle holders for a frame bag with food. As the route stands, it is 4 full days of riding with the last commercial resupply in the afternoon of the first day (Ventucopa). To pack three days of food most likely requires a backpack for part of the ride. I put the backpack on top of the saddle bag (or inside the saddle bag or framebag) as soon as it gets empty enough - I hate having something on my back. But 3 days of food, even a narrow selection of dense foods, adds about 10 pounds and corresponding bulk. 

Break time at Miranda Pines, Saturday evening

Putting together a long connected route is a lot of work and on-the-ground time. Connecting just 100 km of mountain bike trails without getting on busy roads or trails of questionable legality is always difficult and often just impossible. Erin actually developed 3 alternative routes and documented them on his website (http://tourdelospadres.weebly.com/). I think the most attractive option is the 450km Frazier Park to Santa Barbara one-way route, which he labels the “race route”. Only about a dozen people have tried any of his routes so far, including a mass start with 9 of us this month. I was actually surprised that there have been so few takers, especially since Erin tried to organize a shuttle. In the end, it was better to test the route this year with a small number because it needs some fine-tuning. There are a few sections that need to be avoided, but Erin already has alternatives in mind. Check out my day 4 report for problem areas. 

Full moon over the Carrizo Plain

Full moon is always a good time for long rides that go into the night. Full moon also coincided with spring break and the Julian fiddle camp, which Anya had been eager to do. I took Anya to Julian at the beginning of the week, but was happy to have a more challenging activity later that week. On Thursday, I made the 5 hour drive from Julian to Santa Barbara to have dinner with Erin and his wife Molika, who have a condo in the city center just off State street. Claude Frat from Northern California arrived around the same time as me. We had pizza, beers, and swapped experiences. A bike mechanic from Ventura, Tristan Borgeson, stopped by. He had tried the route a week before us with a friend and they had a tough second day (I still could see evidence from their struggle, see the picture posted under day 2) and eventually ran out of time and stopped before Santa Barbara. 

Very early Friday morning, we piled into Erin’s Subaru Outback (Subarus have gotten a lot bigger since we bought ours 15 years ago, just like the clothing size inflation) and headed to Frazier Park.

Day 1 - Friday

It was chilly, but above freezing, for the Grand Départ. So maybe it wasn't that grand, but there were 9 of us. We all had spot trackers and it always is fun to replay individual locations on the trackleaders website: http://trackleaders.com/lospadres14. It was pretty obvious from their minimal gear that Blake Bockius and Erick Lord would battle it out in terms of speed, they carried hardly anything and their bikes were probably 15 pounds lighter. Somewhat of a self-commitment: if you have no sleeping bag, you’re not going to sleep in the mountains! (at least Erick; Blake said he had a sleeping bag). The rest of us had more standard setups for multi-day trips with dry sacks under the handlebars and a saddle bag. I expected 3 nights out there, some at high elevations, so I was prepared for very cold nights (it did not get particularly cold, though, so some extra layers were never used). 

Erick Lord on the far left, Black Bockius fourth from left. You can see from their outfits that they were ready to race from the start!  Erin (in the middle, behind me) and I even wore baggy shorts and didn't use cleats. Claude, on the right, is the senior citizen of the group and almost eligible for Medicare. From left: Erick Lord, Mike Abbott, Ty Hathaway, Blake Bockius, Erin Carroll, Roland Sturm, Jason Osborne, Art de Goede, Claude Frat.  

I usually dislike the stretch out of Frazier Park, narrow road and lots of fast traffic, but that's because I almost always have been on a road bike. There actually is a dirt path parallel to the road, so that makes the ride much more pleasant. Obin will recognize the store on the left from our ride in January, when we did a counterclockwise road loop (coming from the left on Lockwood Road and making a left). He ate 2000 calories at lunch to overcome his bonk to no avail.

Just before the road to Mt Pinos, the route turns away from pavement and there is a few miles of pretty single track (although some lifting over fallen trees) and an attractive (but still hard) dirt road climb). I definitely wasn't doing too well that morning (really all day) and felt the altitude. Of course, it could be not enough sleep or something else, but I was huffing and puffing. I also was a bit concerned about my left knee, which I hurt on Stagecoach (forgetting to readjust saddle height) and which was not doing well at all at the start. However, it didn't get worse and this first climb was a tough test.

Erin on dirt road climb up Mt. Pinos

The route connects with pavement near McGill Campground. All the campgrounds are still closed in April, so there is very little traffic or people. At this point, the route becomes a bit artificial as it is almost out-and-back, but it is worth riding up the extra few km either to the end of the pavement (a parking lot at the Nordic Ski Base) or even to the top of Mt Pinos. I didn't go all the way to the top, which would have been an extra detour from the route, but I have done it before and it is not much further. As there is a wilderness area (no bikes allowed in wilderness areas) past the top, there is no alternative for bikes than to backtrack. But there is a terrific single track trail from the Nordic Base parking lot down. The Mt Pinos single track trail is as nice as mountain trails go and I have ridden it both up and down before. 

It was a hard morning, only 3 hours in, but already well over 1000 m of climbing. The Mt Pinos Nordic Base is at 2500m. About 5 or 6 of us seemed to arrive at about the same time, just Erick and Blake were long gone. 

Campsite No. 1 at this hike-in campsite near the top

There was still some snow, but not much. Generally rideable, just a few short stretches of walking. 

Claude pushing his bike downhill

The single track down Mt Pinos is great, itself worth the climb. Flowing forest trail, not too technical, not too rocky, just fun to ride. I guess that's why I have ridden it up and down before....

Ty Hathaway doing trailside repair

Even such a nice trail can cause problems and I caught up with Ty Hathaway, who was using a tree as a work stand for trailside repair. He had a sidewall cut and while he was able to fix it temporarily and ride further, it was the beginning of the end of his trip. He has not had good luck recently. Last year, his frame broke on Stagecoach 1/3 from the end; last month he was too sick to start Stagecoach, and now another mechanical that early on a tour.  

Back to the main road for a bit and a quick ice cream, coke, chocolate milk at Pine Mountain Club convenience store. Then came the first dud of the route, Mt. Abel (the old name, after a local politician)/Cerro Noroeste (the current official name)/Campo Alto (campground name). If you look at the route, it is a little wart that sticks out and starts and ends at the same point. To do an extra detour, it should be something special. Well, memorable it was, but I have nothing good to report about this wart/loop. It was a tedious pavement climb, followed by an atrocious hike-a-bike down. The view climbing up was nice and there were no cars as the road was still closed to cars for the winter. Fine if you want to train on a road bike, excellent even for that purpose. The top would be a nice spot for camping, but the best way down is the same road. Instead, the route started to use a trail built by downhill riders. It is manageable at the top, but pretty soon it was just walking downhill and eventually bushwhacking or trespassing (the latter would have been a better choice). In any event, it is not worth the effort and I never intend to do this section again. There is really no alternative approach as Cerro Noroeste is surrounded by wilderness areas (no bikes allowed), so only hikers can connect Mt. Pinos and Cerro Noroeste directly.

Astonishingly, just as I started the climb up, Blake Bockius and Erick Lord came bombing down already. Given that this extra loop would take me a few hours, they had opened a huge gap by mid-afternoon! Packing very lightly surely helps (by now, they had done over 2000 m of climbing), but I trust they went too hard, testing each other and trying not to show any weakness. That pace must have made for a pretty painful first day, although Blake kept riding through the night. A very impressive effort, my ride would have ended here had I tried to keep with them at the start.

Once I got get back to the turnoff (tired, annoyed, and scratched), it was a long and easy dirt road downhill (Quatal Canyon) to Highway 33 and a few houses called Ventucopa and I cheered up. I stopped at the one restaurant that would be open on a Friday at 6.30 pm, I think it is called "The Place". There aren't too many alternatives at any time - a dinner date/winery place and the outlet of the Santa Barbara Pistachio company. Claude Frat and Art de Goede were having dinner there as well and we left together from the restaurant, just a bit before sunset. They rode the rest of the route together as the Produce Train: Both are in the produce business (Claude exporting California fruit and vegetables to Europe; Art managing a fresh produce warehouse). I ate/drank too much to really pedal hard immediately, so the Produce Train pulled away into the headwind.

Art and Claude taking off towards Carrizo

I let the produce train go and enjoyed a sunset ride

Highway 33 isn't so bad in the Ventucopa area, it has a shoulder and traffic was light. The stretch on 166 is not pleasant, although again there is a shoulder and it only is a few km. The big trucks also gave me a lot of room, many moved to the other lane, a pleasant surprise. Still, I was very glad to turn off 166 at the abandoned gas station and roll into the Carrizo Plain National Monument, just as it got dark. 

I had planned to get through the Carrizo Plain and camp a bit up the next climb into the Caliente Range after getting water at Selby Campground, but I had not felt great all day. I was more tired than expected and my knee had some disconcerting twinges. So when I saw an interesting area on the right side of the road - looked like a mini Grand Canyon - I stopped early and called it a day, about 9 pm. Yes, that is all there is to my camp, toss the sleeping bag on the ground and be done. The only trick is that I need to find a spot without rocks because I don't bring a sleeping pad. About 140 km, 2500 m of climbing. 

My first night campsite in the Carrizo Plain. 

Tour de Los Padres - Part 2 (days 2 and 3)

Day 2 - Saturday

Today will take me through the Carrizo Plain, over the Caliente Range, across the Cuyama Valley, and up into the Sierra Madre Mountains. This is the afternoon view back to the mountains and canyons that kept me busy all morning. 

View from Sierra Madre Mountains in the afternoon: Cuyama Valley and Caliente Range

As I stopped early in the evening, I still had much of the Carrizo Plain (2 r’s, one z, I always get it wrong) ahead of me this morning. The Carrizo Plain is an 80 km long valley that follows the San Andreas Fault and one of the most accessible places to see surface fractures of the San Andreas Fault. The best spot would not be on the road I was riding the morning (Soda Lake Road), but along a parallel one. At Wallace Creek, a big quake in 1857 moved the ground by about 10m and the offset is still clearly visible (I visited that on another bike ride a few years ago).  Bordering the plain to the northeast - on the right as I was riding towards Soda Lake - is the Temblor Range (and beyond those mountains is the California Central Valley). On my left is the Caliente Range, which will be the next climb. This is the Temblor Range:

View of Carrizo Plain and Temblor Range from around Selby Campground

The Carrizo Plain is, well, plain. Although it has a reputation for wildflowers in the spring and there had been some recent rain, none were seen. It is a seemingly endless dirt road. While it looks very desert-like, technically the Carrizo Plain is semi-arid grassland. But no trees grow here and rainfall is minimal. The Carrizo Plain is now a National Monument, administered by BLM, and looks like all those public lands in the South West: Whatever vegetation may grow is used by cows (although maybe the farmers here, unlike some farmers in Nevada, pay for grazing their cows on public land), and there is an abundance of abandoned oil wells (no commercially viable oil has been found here). 

Soda Lake Road in the Plain Carrizo Plain 

My morning ride is quite enjoyable (not hot, no cars) and fast, partly because there is a slight downhill gradient going this direction even though it appears flat. Riding the opposite direction can get tedious (I remember that from a few years ago). The downhill gradient was enough that I was going too fast last night to ride just with moonlight, so I used one of my two front lights at a low setting.

There are two primitive campgrounds in the valley. I made a little detour to the KCL campground (the campground is visible from the road) to top up my water. However, the only water available was a cattle trough with lots of algae. No flowing water to filter easily. So I went on and made a second detour to the Selby campground, which had a water pump. The water should still be treated, all water is “livestock use only”, although I think it probably would be fine to drink as is.

The climb out of Carrizo into the Caliente Range is surprisingly hard, even though this is not much of a mountain range: The Plain is around 600-700m and Caliente Mountain (the highest point in San Luis Obispo county) is around 1500m. The climb out of Carrizo is very similar to Bulldog road in the Santa Monica mountains: Steep dirt road, fully exposed in the sun, and a loaded bike makes it even harder; hard enough that I got off the bike a couple of times to push. Just like Bulldog, not a problem riding it up in one take fresh on an unloaded bike, but it feels different on a multi-day trip. This stretch would be very tough in the summer during the day, an important consideration for planning (including water needs), but in the morning on a mild spring day, it just was a hard climb. 


The view back, just after starting to get out of the Plain:

Starting to climb the Caliente Range, looking back at Carrizo Plain, Soda Lake, and Temblor Range

And the view back about halfway up the Caliente Range (time for a breather anyway)

Soda Lake is really big (mainly salt, I think, there wasn't much water)

It does not take too long to get to the top and one can see Cuyama valley and the Sierra Madre Mountains on the other side of that valley. However, it will take several more hours to get to the Cuyama valley because the route goes in and out a number of canyons on the way down, like this one: 

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There are many ups and downs after the main climb that will take much of the day, making it important to plan water supply. Water can be found, but this is a dry area, so advance planning is needed. Of course, it is nothing like real desert. On Stagecoach, I road the first day with 2 gallon capacity and largely filled up whenever I could. Los Padres, I had three bottles only without problems (plus a 2l bladder just in case, but I never filled it and it stayed folded the whole time). However, if you go in the summer or in the fall (when seasonal water may have dried up), you probably want to have more than 3 bottles. You get an idea of what is available in the Caliente Range from these two pictures of Gillam Springs. Yes, it has a name and is shown on maps. Looks a lot like a cow trough to me. It does have flowing water (a trickle out of the pipe protected from cows with barbed wire) and that makes it a good water source. 

Ambitiously named Gillam Springs

Gillam Springs

The morning and early afternoon was not an easy ride, but I had a good time and would be happy to do this part again. Some small stretches are technical single track that are perfectly rideable, but can be a bit risky on a loaded bike because it handles differently, so I got off a couple of times just to be on the safe side. It also gets greener the closer it gets to the Cuyama valley. 

It is important to pick the right weather. Summer days will get way too hot, fall may be out of some water sources (and still hot). Some winter days, stretches in the Caliente Range can turn into very sticky mud with rain (and snow at high elevations). I had very good trail conditions here, but two guys went a week earlier when there was some rain and their foot and tire prints documented a struggle. 

These are not long stretches, but something that would have taken me an hour may have taken them 4 hours and sapped their energy and morale. I saw them walking even when it was flat. Over the whole distance, this is not much of a delay, but it can throw off a schedule. Technical downhills are better left for the day, long climbs with sun exposure for early or late in the day or even the night. 

Easy ride on a hard surface, but two people were struggling with the mud monster a week earlier

Eventually, by mid-afternoon, I crossed the Cuyama Valley, which is the (literal) low point of the route prior to Santa Barbara. Immediately after crossing Highway 166, there is a long, long climb up into the Sierra Madre mountains. Although probably the longest climb and largest altitude gain, it is on Sierra Madre road, which is a smooth dirt road with a gentle gradient. About 2/3rds up (and a 2 hour ride at a steady effort) is Miranda Pines, a beautiful official camp site. Erin's wife Molika and friends were up that weekend camping and they were the only group. While I had enough food with me, just to be safe, it was nice to switch out a few things and have some things that are too heavy to carry (like chocolate milk). Usually, there is nothing available after Ventucopa.  There is no problem to carry enough food on a bicycle for many days, but it does add weight quickly. A minimum of 2 pounds per day are needed and that would require very dense foods only (like nuts, 500-600 kcal per 100g), 3 pounds is probably most reasonable, and 4 pounds per day would give good variety, but gets heavy. 

Molika told me that Erin was only an hour or two behind, so I decided to take a long break to wait for him, and enjoy the scenery and a beer, my first PBR actually. Despite its legendary reputation for generic American Beer, I've never had one before.  A luxurious break that normally is not an option. Can't carry stuff like that: only about 30kcal per 100g and doesn't taste good warm.

Erin came just after sunset, looking strong despite a very long day (in order to make it, he started riding at 4 in the morning). Miranda Pines became a midpacker meeting place and Claude and Art camped there. 

After a long break (really much too long, but I enjoyed the break), I took off for an evening ride to finish at least the main climb (another 300 or 400m of altitude gain). Perfect time and place to ride in the moonlight, it was a smooth dirt road going uphill, and I like moonlight rides. I didn't go on for too long, probably less than two hours, and when I saw an attractive spot to sleep I stopped. At Miranda Pines, I had 2500 m of elevation gain for the day. 

Day 3 - Sunday

I camped under a big pine tree on a soft bed of pine needles. It is not easy to fall asleep after hard days, the brain is really busy and tries to make sense out of everything, wind, leaves, creeks. So there are constantly changing voices in your head and pictures that only slowly settle down. But once they settled down, I slept well again and the sun was long up when I woke up. I guess I didn't quite make the "racing pace" this time. 

Fast finishing times are determined less by moving speed, but by break times. Moving speeds tend not to vary dramatically, except maybe the first day when the front group is pushing the pace. Riders who finish days apart may only differ a few hours in moving time, the difference is in hours ridden per day. The fastest finishers do 20 hours of moving time per day and the slow tourers maybe 6-8. I tend to aim for 12 or more of moving time, sometimes add a ride through one night if the conditions are suitable and I feel good. I think my highest average was 50 hours moving time in a 72 hour period. So far, I did less than 12 hours per day of moving time on this trip. 

My idea of camping is to go as far away from cars, barking dogs, electricity as possible anyway. There is nothing a campground adds for me: Here is everything unpacked for the night, water bottle and food nearby. I don't get it why people plan their rides around developed campgrounds or urban stretches, they miss a key experience. A few hours after I leave, especially if there is a little wind, there shouldn't be any evidence left that I spent the night there. It is not difficult to find a good spot with a bit of thinking ahead; it rarely takes more than 30 minutes. However, don't start looking just after starting a climb or descent, that's not where you find them.  

The morning view from my camping spot was breathtaking, I did not expect it. This was the view looking southwest as soon as I stood up:

and this was the view when I turned around, looking north/east (the direction that I came from the previous day):

And there were many more similarly amazing views around every corner (the next two pictures are both looking south or west). 

It did not take long for the clouds in the valleys to disappear, probably not much after 9 am the Cuyama valley was completely clear again (this is looking north):

As I was not the earliest riser, nor started off particularly speedy, the Produce Train caught up with me by mid-morning (i.e. Claude and Art who were riding together; both have day jobs in the produce business).  We leap-frogged most of the day, depending on who took a break when and at one of those occasions Claude took this picture of me. 

Up, up, up on Sierra Madre road. It starts at 400 m and goes up to 2000 m around Big Pine Mountain (about 1400 to over 6000 feet).

I also stopped for viewing and taking pictures. I suddenly had sympathy for these hardly little flowers trying survive on this road.  

After another turn, suddenly there was a lush meadow, the Montgomery Potrero, which almost looks like a European alpine meadow.  

Near the trees on the left are also some Chumash rock paintings.

The gear shifters had started to feel a bit strange in the morning, but then stopped working completely. And on a climb in the hot sun just a few km before I could refill my bottles! The shifter cable had torn. I started to see what I can do to fix this and maybe get a few usable gears, but there was nothing I could do: In their wisdom, Rohloff bolted the external shift box together with torx T20 heads. I carry a good selection of tools for repairs, so at first I thought no problem. But even a T25 did not fit to take the gear box apart (T25 are common, for example, on rotor bolts). I don't think I have come across T20 in my life before. Before long, I figured out that there was nothing I could do here and that I am now on a single speed bicycle for the rest of the ride. Of course, first thing I did when getting home was to replace T20s with roadside-repair-friendly screws (Phillips head).

The external gear box is held together with T20, nothing I could do to get at least a few shiftable gears.

I was in a very light gear, good for climbing, that would mostly work for the rest of the day (lots of steep climbing and then lots of descending where I just roll, nothing flat) and then I see what to do tomorrow. But it definitely was a downer and cast a pall on the rest of day, more because of the uncertainty about how this would work  over the rest of the ride than because of any immediate problems. 

In any event, the Produce Train did not get ahead of me too far, just a few hours later I saw them again before Big Pine. That area suffered a fire not long ago, so whenever there is a strong wind or storm, dead trees will topple over and create an obstacle course. It was not the worst fallen tree section I have seen, maybe 20 or so lifts over trees. The picture below was not taken by me (which should be obvious if you realize that it is me in that picture): Claude had lost his glasses hopping over one of those trees and a few minutes later backtracked to the previous hurdle in time to take this picture. He is an expert at losing stuff: In the Caliente Range, I picked up one of his gloves; at Stagecoach, he lost his light.

By the time the descend past Big Pine camp begins, my shorts and legs were covered in charcoal. 

Big Pine was the high point after day 1 (once more, literally only). While there are a lot of ups and downs coming, the route never goes up that high again. 

Produce Train rolling down cresting Big Pine, highest point.

Now the short day 1 and the long break at Miranda Pine were catching up because a very long and technical single-track descent was on the program. Having become a slow single speeder after my first mechanical problem, I didn't make it to the Santa Cruz trail until sunset.

This descent can at times be outright scary, despite having really strong lights (I can crank it up to 1000 lumens between 2 lights). Steep downhill (700 m descent), exposed ledges on a canyon wall, pretty spectacular whether in the day or moonlight. On the plus side, I had the trail all to myself, nobody in sight. 

Almost, though...., after I reached the bottom and started a small climb at the bottom, I heard a "yoohoo" behind me and there was the Produce Train again! Claude and Art obviously also had tackled the descent in the dark and that is even scarier because Art didn't have a bike light, just a small headlamp. 

I was wasted by the time I got to the bottom and started looking for place to camp. There would have been something at the bottom, but I already did two curves of climbing and wasn't going back. I was not going to cede any elevation gain, not even those two curves, so I made dinner in a road turnout, took a nap, and then continued grinding along to a top (remember: there aren't good camping spots on climbs). But as soon it flattened out, there was a promising looking area, also the beginning of the Camuesa connector trail.  I started to search around a little bit for a rockless spot, flashing my light around, when a light came on pointing in my direction: Art and Claude had made camp there as well. 



Remembering the view from this morning, this area would get wet at night. As soon as found a spot without rocks, I flipped my bike upside down and made a shelter. Sure enough, the night was wet and sleeping without a shelter would have resulted in a soaked sleeping bag. My tarp is actually a tent footprint and I usually use it on the ground so the sleeping bag doesn't get dirty.  Depending on weather or climate, I turn it into a shelter, either with a lot of room when there is no wind or rain (as here), or closer to the ground against bad weather (either an A-frame with a string or just using one wheel). This is my most elaborate camp setup.


It had been yet another day with 2500 m of climbing! So 7500 m already, almost the the total altitude gain of this year's Stagecoach 400 route (which was less than previous years). I don't think I have done that much climbing over such a distance before. 

To be continued....

Tour de Los Padres 2014 - Final Day

Camuesa Connector Trail

Day 4 - Monday

I got up around 7 and it was clear, no sign of the thick fog that felt like a constant drizzle. The ground was dry, too, and the only evidence that I hadn't dreamed about a thick fog was that my tarp had collected a pool of water where I had let it sag. 

I quickly packed up and got rolling as a long day was expected and I was not sure how my involuntary single-speed setup would work for the more varied terrain today. In addition, I strangely injured myself going to bed: I parked the bike leaning against something and as I picked it up to roll to my sleeping place, there was a pop and sharp pain in my left leg as if something snapped. Disconcertingly, the tendon on the outside of my left knee was gone and I couldn't find it. I remember that happening before in a judo fight some 25 years ago (against a heavy weight who had 40 pounds on me), but at least there was a more obvious reason then. In any event, leg was a bit stiff in the morning, kind of like a torn muscle, but not terribly so. I could ride fine, walking was a bit awkward. A bizarre event. 

The first stretch of the day was called the Camuesa Connector trail, I took a picture at the end of it to remind me of it. It was an enjoyable trail to ride, just a few occasional pushes needed. 

The terrain was definitely getting more varied than yesterday, so a light climbing gear was hopelessly slow: I spun out at 10-12 km/h. With the Rohloff hub, one torn cable disables shifting completely.  However, by removing the external gear box, it is possible to select another gear with a size 8 wrench. Using my grimy leatherman pliers worked as well...

Mornings (and late afternoons) are the best parts of the day and I enjoyed being out there alone in the mountains. But then I saw two dots - the Vegetable Express comes steaming across the flat with Claude leading....

And then (more slowly) rolling around the bend:

And with that, they were gone and I did not see them again on this trip.

The Camuesa Connector trail connects Camuesa Road (dirt road) with Gibraltar Road (initially pavement). There is a day use area and parking on Gibraltar Road, some water ponds along the Santa Ynez River (or maybe that was the river) and I suspect this is popular on summer weekends. Yet today it was empty. The Gibraltar Road pavement ends soon, turns into a dirt road, and by not making a right turn continues to the Gibraltar Trail. The Gibraltar Trail around the reservoir was very nice and I stopped for an early lunch break because it was so pretty. 

Early part of Gibraltar trail

But a bit after the reservoir, the trail was washed out.  Lots of hike-a-bike, lots of lifting bikes over obstacles, rocks, and bushwhacking through poison oak forests. Most likely, Erin will revise the route in the future to avoid what is a very short distance on the map, but which took hours. 

Later part of Gibraltar trail

Claude took this particular picture. It is very steep and sandy, not rideable. Walking a bike also damaged the frail existing trail. Maybe it gets rebuilt or maybe it will disappear. There are simple alternatives. One is staying on Gibraltar dirt road (rather than continuing on the single track around the reservoir), another is to skip the Camuesa Connector trail and ride on Camuesa dirt road. The area is prone to fire, storm damage, so conditions will change over time. 

Gibraltar trails ends at the Cold Spring Trail, which runs along Mono Creek. But Cold Spring Trail was not really a trail. In a wet year, it may be swamp. This year, it was an overgrown poison oak jungle.  

Seemingly the main vegetation along Cold Spring Trail

It is a lot like Rustic Canyon in the Santa Monica mountains, so just not something for a longer ride, just a brief adventure hike. I took Obin into Rustic Canyon when he was 12 or 13 as an adventure and it is great for that purpose. In high school, he took many friends for hikes in Rustic who were impressed by his outdoor knowledge. But too much bushwhacking for a long distance route.

Long socks for cold weather also come in handy as Poison Oak protection. I threw them out afterwards, but got through this without Poison Oak rashes.

At Mono Camp, I rejoined Camuesa road again. Getting back onto that dirt road in the morning (instead of taking the connector trail to Gibraltar road) would have been a better choice. It is just a dirt road, alright, nothing special, but it still is a pretty area and enjoyable. 

Then comes a sudden and hard to find right turn into or across the Santa Ynez river. Not much of a river, in a few months, this could easily be mistaken for a desert (but that's how dried up river bottoms look). But in April, there was enough water to filter and it was good flowing water.  

At Cottam Camp, another pretty and empty camp ground, the route turns into Blue Canyon. I really liked the first part. I took a break at Cottam Camp, then at another creek crossing where I filtered water again and took a bath. This was a very fun part. I took my time to enjoy this stretch because by now it was clear that there was no way that I could finish the full route before dark, but instead would take pavement from Montecito to Santa Barbara.  

The second part of Blue Canyon, after the intersection with Romero trail, became aggravating on a bike tour. Good hiking trail, though. I hit some rocks and had mechanical number 2 on this trip, the outer ring got bend and jammed the chain. Removing a ring is a manageable trail side repair, though, but now I became cautious to avoid a more disabling third mechanical. Also, the bolts were too long without an outer ring, so the chainring was very wobbly and clanking. Spoiled the upper part of Blue Canyon. Maybe it would have been ok fresh in the morning, or without the odd leg injury from last night, or without the chainring damage.  

Lots of snakes on the trail. This one, however, did not want to move despite being prodded.   

Eventually Blue Canyon ends and I am on Camuesa Road again! It was a climb, but, just like a few hours earlier, I liked Camuesa Road. 

As it was getting late in the afternoon, even the climb on the dirt road was pleasant. No cars, no people, despite Santa Barbara being on the other side. About 2/3rds up, I crossed the 9000m total elevation gain threshold, over a distance of 400km. I don't know if the Santa Barbara trails would bring it to over 10 km of climbing, but it should be close.

Somehow I couldn't find the Romero Trail at the top. I saw it a bit away, but the trails that may have connected to it at Romero Saddle were fenced off. I gave up after a few minutes and took down Romero Road, which probably was the best choice anyway. Romero Road is not a road either, but largely single track. However, it has a gentle gradient and is a fun way to descend and enjoy the scenery for the last part of the day. Just a few hike sections due to rock slides.

Romero Road is not exactly a road

A nice flowing single track is fun to ride, always, and this descent at sunset qualifies. It was an enjoyable finish for my tour.

Descending Romero Road

Heather Rose from Santa Barbara, who was the first person trying this route (but she had to give up with knee pain after day 2), agrees with me and says that "Romero 'road' is super fun single track and way more enjoyable then the technical 'real' single track descent." Here I saw the first person since Saturday not connected to TDLP: a trail runner coming up Romero Road. The sun had set just as I hit pavement and I continued on pavement to downtown Santa Barbara. There was no point trying to do technical trails at night and I had to get home for another trip anyway, so those additional 40km or so of Santa Barbara trails have to wait for another time. 

My salt-encrusted T-shirt