Showing posts with label Santa Ynez River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Santa Ynez River. Show all posts

Sunday, October 20, 2024

2024/10/20 Alive-Alive-O at Live Oak

 

A panoramic view of Lake Cachuma, looking across the water, over Arrowhead Island to the coastal mountains to the West.
In this aerial view you can see the island easily, and orient that the first photo was taken from the lake edge on the center right.

We are SO fortunate that this man-made lake was created in 1953 with Bradbury Dam placed on the Santa Ynez River. It provides water security for the city, and a fine equestrian recreational spot.

Today's track was a leisurely walk, just a stroll on one of our favorite places.

To access the trails requires driving up into the mountains from Santa Barbara, on the 154, a road that is becoming increasingly dangerous.

But no matter the angry speeders behind me, my mule and I drive the legal speed and periodically use lay-bys to let them careen past. I don't drive faster than my Guardian Angel can fly.

Last winter the river so far exceeded its banks that giant sink-holes appeared in the parking lot. Even now the width of the area it expanded across is enormous.

All this gravel was washed down from the mountains above.
But now, in the early Fall, it has shrunk back down to an easy to cross shallow stream. My companions and I let our animals cool their hooves and get a drink in preparation for today's walk.
As soon as you hit the trail the mountains stretch away. After spending weeks in the downtown corridor, it is a restful sight to look to a distant horizon with minimal human presence.
Today tres caballeros came along for the ride, happy to be out in this jewel of a landscape. Jose on borrowed Pistolas, Graviel on El Capitan, and Arturo on Hurache.

Plus my constant riding companion Jamie on Mosca.

 

And Tobe Mule and I.



It might seem odd to call these former ranch roads trails, they are kept wide enough to permit access by emergency vehicles should that be necessary.


There are are other more challenging single-track trails, we'll leave those for another day.

As the trail winds back and forth, the sight of the lake on the horizon makes this trail special, like no other mountain trail experience in this area.
And although the trail never goes to the water's edge, it is a sparkling delight.



We went a little over 3 miles and that was enough for me today, so this was our last viewpoint, where I took the panoramic.

Then it was back across the plateau, that always feels to me like we are traversing the African veld. 

Today we saw no cows, bucking horses or deer. We are used to seeing many of each, so it felt strangely silent and empty without a glimpse of the locals.



But with a trusty Kentucky mule and competent riding companions on their assorted horses, 

a fine way to spend an afternoon.


Back across the river we go, and then to return to civilization.

On the bumper of my SubUrban.

I encourage every reader to find their dream and make it happen.

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Mule Trail Blog by Pat Fish




Sunday, July 9, 2023

2023/7/9 LIVE OAK LIVES

It has been a LONG six months since last we rode at Live Oak. Tobe Mule and I were grateful for the rain that fell last winter, but that turned to dismay as we were told that the trails were made impassible and giant sinkholes appeared in the parking lot. So we waited. Finally today we rustled up our favorite two trail compadres and went to see how things looked.
We didn't go far off the main ranch road trail, which has been scraped and leveled out by the man who runs his bucking horses and cattle out here. We took a straight stroll down to the lake level on the plateau, then came back by the same route. Just enough for our out of shape animals and selves.

Leaving the parking area it was such a pleasure to once again look out onto the trail system. But where we are used to having a small trickle of water a wide swath now showed signs of being scraped clean by rushing waters. The water at this point got to over 12' high, and rose up and flooded the entire parking lot.
This shot shows how much gravel and rock had to be pushed aside to recreate the path down to cross the river. You can tell from the little ears this is Mosca's viewpoint, but what you can't know is she has a serious crush on the stallion Marcos, who has already crossed the water. We can be sure she will not hesitate to join him on the other side.
But first Mosca must perform her ritual splashing, a must whenever she is in water. All fun and games until, as happened last year, Jamie's cell phone falls out of her pocket and lands in the river!
Tobe is always skeptical of water crossings. It is an anomaly of the equine eye that they have trouble seeing through the surface glint on water. So they edge forward unable to see how deep it is or what they are walking on.
But with his pals up ahead he must not delay. So a quick drink and off we go.
The trail stretches before us, so familiar but now with small changes, like trees that have fallen and been sawed up and moved off the path.
The view of a far-off horizon is balm for the urban heart. Looking off to the East and no one home but wildlife and a few cows.
Then we come to an overlook that gives us a first view of Lake Cachuma, where I like to take portraits of the people I ride with. So here is Noe on Marcos, a fine Andalusian/Azteca who owns the trail.
And Jamie on Mosca, the Appendix Thoroughbred who lives life at high speed.
From now on as we wind down the hillside we will catch views of the lake on the horizon, now over 100% full and spilling over the Bradbury Dam.
These two photos show the difference between 12/2022 when we last rode here, when the lake was at 17%, and now in 7/2023. We had grown quite used to the "bath tub ring" of white on the cliff edges, and the island being surrounded by mud flats.
Once down on the level of the plateau we were out of the trees and onto an expanse of dry grasses. The horses and cows live here as a fire mitigation, cropping down the grass, as do the deer. We always look for bear footprints, or signs that wild boar have rooted up the earth, but mostly we see the deer herds and birds flying above us.
Finally we were down to the level of the lake, our destination for today. It adds so much to our rides to look out over its calm expanse.
And this little group of lazy bovines apparently had the same idea.
We left them contentedly chewing their cud surrounded by an endless feast of grass hay.
I am so grateful for the good company of my riding companions, whose presence gives me someone to share the experience with as well as the safety in numbers in case something untoward should happen.
So we turned around and headed back, inching our way in reverse up to the trailhead. Such a pleasure to be out and about, I didn't notice until I got off that I was as stiff as a tenderfoot who'd never ridden! Obviously Tobe Mule and I need more trail time!
 
 
"The only weapon we have against time
is memory."


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written by Pat Fish
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Sunday, February 27, 2022

2022/2/27 Legend of the Lost Calf

 

What's wrong with this picture? That calf is on the wrong side of the fence!
X marks the spot where the lost calf was stuck on the Live Oak Camp side of the fence that divides the public lands from the Rancho San Fernando Rey property.
It was a short ride, just a leg stretch, up the winding trail to the first gate, then along the straight boundary fence, and out over the bluff that looks out over the former golf course and the 154.
Speaking of the 154, check out those skid marks! We locals hear of accidents all the time, and today we were held up for what looked like some sort of repair on a transmission line pole.


It seemed as though the helicopter was delivering or removing something but when I took this shot of it flying away the thing swinging below it is a mystery.

So much for photographic technology!

But we were soon waved on, across the Suicide Bridge, where I always say a prayer for the two people I have known who jumped to their deaths. The wire mesh ruins our view and does not successfully prevent more jumpers, a tragedy all around.


It was nice to see the fire risk is low right now, but soon we will return to eternal summer and the baked grasslands of the chaparral woodlands.


Onward to our destination, 

The Old Same Place.

Where sometimes unusual things happen.




Turning into the parking area I was amazed at the largest number of horse trailers I've EVER seen here! Turned out a very popular local cowgirl decided to throw a wingding of a birthday party for herself and invited dozens of her compadres to a beautiful trail ride.

The bar was open and the good times were rolling.
Woo hoo! While we tacked up our animals we watched as they hit the trail ...



Unbelievable! I have been here with the BackCountry HorseMen of America, with local riding clubs, and never have I seen this large a group hitting the trails. She must be one popular gal indeed!



They were gone by the time we were all ready, and we headed down to the Santa Ynez River crossing which still has a little water in it. 

Tobe Mule impersonated a unicorn to aggravate Mosca the sensitive spooky racehorse, distracting her from the water.

There was just enough water to make a little spillway as the River headed toward the lake. Nice for the animals to catch a drink before their walk begins.


On the main trail there were mysterious drag marks in the dirt. Three parallel lines that must have indicated something heavy being transported along it. At first we suspected they might be forbidden bicycle tracks, but in the soft areas they were too soft and regular.

All these trails are accessible by vehicles, but what left this mark remains a mystery.

Because we figured that the big group of people were doing the long route out to the plateau we sensibly opted for the right hand path, and turned East toward the Rancho San Fernando Rey.


Looking out across their acres is always restful. Often there are cows in the shade of the oaks, sometimes I have seen herds of deer resting there. Once a large group of deer panicked at the sight of Tobe Mule and I, and ran towards us and jumped the fence 10' from us.... we watched amazed, it was like being on an African safari.


At one point in the border fence a mud wallow made an obstacle that my Charro riding pals just could not resist. 

Horses would prefer not to walk through uncertain surfaces...

But it is good training to tell them who is boss.


 

El Jefe Arturo  !!

But WAIT! What's this? A redhead on the wrong side of the boundary fence, clearly regretting whatever foolish sense of adventure has led him astray!
There was a gate in the fence nearby, and I thought surely the next exhibition of Mexican cowboy skills would be rounding up the wayward one and returning it to the right side of the fence, but NO! The men firmly explained that such interference with someone else's cattle would simply never do, philosophically expressing what I would say in colloquial English as "Not my circus, not my monkeys."
Then I couldn't help but notice this part of the fence had the bottom strand of barbed wire trampled down into the dirt. I have been suspicious that allowing hikers to access the trails would lead to them trespassing onto the adjacent private property, and I deduce this may have happened here. Just my supposition. In any case our little lost pal may have done the limbo and escaped through it.

 

 

Leaving him to his fate, the trail beckons us on.

Especially pleasant with the persisting spring greens.





And the dramatic skies that so often come across the coastal mountain range and over this lovely valley.

This is looking directly back towards our Santa Barbara home. So near, and yet so very different from this landscape.

From here we followed the trail out to the overlook above the golf course which is now for sale and clearly going un-watered and untended. And it was in front of a magnificent oak that it was time to take souvenir portrait photos.

 
Pat Fish and Tobe Mule
Noe Peña Alvarez and Marcos
Jame Buse and Mosca
Arturo Medina Espinoza on Pistola
 Rodrigo Espinoza on Relámpago

And now, lovely as the view was from this spot, it was time to turn around and go back.


The sky was filled with clouds known as cirrus uncinus, Mare's Tails.The name is derived from Latin and means "curly hooks"

Their soft patternings overhead are a beautiful contrast with the mountainsides and trees below.



As usual Tobe Mule and I were bringing up the rear, riding drag, so the rest of the krewe were first to see our little lost buddy as we came back up the fence.




Poor little critter!

We left him to shinny back under the fence and get back to where he belonged.


Noe was off to the left prancing around in a field with feisty Marcos



And way up on the skyline Arturo was putting Pistola through some training




But it was time to hit the trail, and Marcos disagreed.




Noe loves the energy of his stallion.

Tobe and I just watch,

and I'm glad Tobe never gets any idea to imitate this!

So back to Live Oak Camp we go, finishing another nice stroll through the forest in good company.
We ford the river, such as it is, cooling hooves and giving the animals a chance to drink after their hard work.
And back at the rigs the party was still going, with a unicorn piñata being whacked with vigor as we untacked and loaded up the animals to return to civilization.

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### PAT FISH ###
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