24 Hours in Point Mugu

Saturday, 7:01 am: Backpacks are expertly packed for optimum weight distribution. We have the equivalent of a 6-year-old in food and water but have a relatively short distance to carry the load.

Tent, backpacks, 4 gallons water, whole pack of tortillas, entire jar of peanut butter...you get the picture.

Tent, sleeping bags, 4 gallons water, whole pack of tortillas, entire jar of peanut butter…you get the picture.

8:27 am: Rendezvous with camping companions and stop at Coffee Bean to load up on egg sandwiches and 20 oz coffees for the road. Caravan to Point Mugu in Malibu.

9:07 am: Hoist on backpacks in comical fashion and begin eastward ascent.

9:28 am: Cross fingers that charred, ostensibly barren landscape will turn lush and green just around the bend.

switchbacks

10:50 am: Come to an unclear sign directing to our campsite; speculate as to the  intention of the person who scratched in an arrow. Punk-ass joker or benevolent do-gooder?

11:15 am: Reach campsite, already occupied by rowdy young gents. Breath sigh of relief when they pack up and leave so we have the whole place to ourselves. Situate and spread out.

The so-called Springs Fire may have transformed the landscape but there was an interesting color palette going on.

The so-called Springs Fire may have, shall we say, transformed the landscape but there was an interesting color palette going on, e.g. bright green sprouts emerging from the burned trees.

12:13 pm: Hammock. Flask. Snacks on snacks.

hammock-001

Princess Consuela Bananaflask, meet Juice in a Box.

Princess Consuela Bananaflask, meet Juice in a Box.

3:10 pm: Explore the area above the campsite and climb a ridge overlooking Ventura. Walk over crunchy scorched earth, breeze through the empty space left by the hundreds of burned down trees and tall grass. Only the sturdiest of succulents remain.

5:10 pm: Theo teaches us a funny Russian card game called Durak.

Durak

6:02 pm: Gather some kindling for fire. Chop up the charred remnants of a picnic table for wood.

Fire

7:19 pm: Try out brand new MSR stove and cooking set. Success!

Tea

8:45 pm: Ben searches in vain for the stick he’d painstakingly whittled into the perfect marshmallow roasting device. Mourns and moves on. S’mores ‘n’ s’mores ‘n’ s’mores. Linger by fire until out of fuel.

9:26 pm: Bed time.

1:42 am: Wake up to the noise of some animal walking near our tent. I imagine a raccoon, possum, or maybe one of those “alot” creatures from Hyperbole and a Half.

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html

Click on the alot to learn about this fascinating animal, invented as a mechanism to cope with the incessant urge to correct poor grammar.

Sunday, 7:13 am: Sun is an effective alarm clock. Find I am not sleepy at all but lay there for a while anyway since I’m in no hurry.

9:02 am: Pack up and stuff trash into a trashcan liner, which is surprisingly full. Begin trek back to civilization with its toilets, TV and Korean barbecue.

happy campers

Cheers to Yahaira’s first camping trip!

Encountering Ruins in Malibu

Maybe if I had printed out a map and studied it for a moment before leaving, like in the old days before my Galaxy S3, I would have made it to the trailhead I was looking for. But knowing that all the directions and practically any information I could ever possibly need was stored in my smart phone, I could just refer to the Weekend Sherpa email if need be.

It was a long weekend and neither my dad nor I had any obligations other than watching over my mother’s dog while she was away. We decided to go on a 2.2 mile hike at Coral Canyon in Malibu, where a winding trail opens up to stunning ocean views, promises Weekend Sherpa. Plus there’s a restaurant right at the bottom of the trail, they mention, which is good because 2.2 miles is enough to rev up my appetite.

Cutting short my long story of technology failure, we reluctantly gave up on finding Coral Canyon Park, found free parking near a sign for Solstice Canyon and decided to embrace the unknown trail before us.

Little did I know that we would come across something more interesting than a lovely seascape. (Not that that should be difficult. I mean, it’s a minor mystery why a view of the Pacific, which is nothing new to me by any stretch, would still hold such power over my psyche.)

The dominant trail in Solstice Canyon is effortless and shady, overrun with dogs and casual hikers, and predictably leads to a waterfall. Less predictable are the ruins we stumbled upon.

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The house was owned by Fred and Florence Roberts (or Freddie and Flo as I’d have called them), who made sure the house had an abundance of stoves and fireplaces.

Destroyed by fire decades ago, the house’s concrete foundation and many of its components are still there, and while a palm tree now grows in what might have been the family room, it’s clear that the mid-century structure wasn’t a shabby, humble little home. It is Malibu after all. A sign notes that it was featured in Architectural Digest, and I could imagine its owners being lulled to sleep to the sound of the waterfall right outside the window, provided the area hadn’t been mid-drought like it is now.

Its unlikely, storybook location, tucked away in the woods next to a waterfall, lends the place a cool kind of mystique, even among all the explorers trampling around. Not that it’s shrouded in mystery at all, like some ancient dwelling dug up by archaeologists–we know who built it and for whom and that it eventually burned down. Still I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to live there.

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Nelson hams it up.

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Just two best buds, standing where a shower used to be.