A racecation through the Los Padres Mountains
Day 0 -1
I was feeling anxious about the weather as I drove out of San Francisco too late in the afternoon to miss the Friday rain rush hour on my way down South. I got to my buddies house in LA around 10 and stayed up late talking which turned into sleeping in later than I had planned. I didn’t end up riding out of Frazier Park until around 10 Saturday morning. The sun was shining and I was feeling good about my decision to go through with riding the Tour De Los Padres even though word on the street was it wasn’t a good time to attempt the route.
The Tour De Los Padres is a 265ish mile bikepacking route that goes a very non direct way from Frazier Park to Santa Barbara passing over Mount Pinos, Through the Carrizo Plain, Up the Sierra Madre Ridge to Pine Mountain and finally down to the Pacific coast. It takes roads, double track, single track, cow track and no track. The Creator of the rout Erin Carroll really did a great job linking together some amazing pieces of the California back country into one cohesive ride. I don’t know how he managed to find some of the more remote connecting trails but I was really impressed by his creativity. Every year since 2014 a handful of riders have set out at the same time to race the route. Sort of like a mini Southern California version of the Tour Divide. Most people take between two and four days to finish but the record holder Jeff Kerkove did it in 37 hours(since writing the record has been smashed by Brian Lucido with an insanely fast time of 30 hours 46 minuets). This year the grand depart was set for March 22nd however with all the winter rains and snow still lingering up high it was decided that the group depart would be pushed back till April 24.
Because I was starting on the original start date I was most likely going to be completely on my own for the entire ride. I was still feeling good about my decision to go through with the ride even when I was pushing my bike through the first couple of snow drifts on my way up Mount Pinos. As I got higher I entered a cloud and it started to snow. Eventually the snowy forest service road emptied out onto a paved road to the top of the Mountain. Cars were passing me going a million miles an hour. I guess they were staying up late watching winter rally racing videos on YouTube the night before. One guy even stopped to apologize to me about how everyone was driving so terrible that day. When I reached the top I was greeted by a round of applause by a ranger and some other folks. He assured me that the snow was “firm” and I shouldn’t have trouble riding down. NOT! I rode about 20’ out of view fell on my ass and proceeded to walk my bike down the rest of the mountain. As I got lower eventually there would be ridable sections of trail. First 20’ at a time then 50’ then more and more until eventually I got to to ride the whole time. Next came a paved bit then some trails after that a long fast descent through the Quatal Canyon on a dirt road. Next thing you know I’m waiting out a rainstorm, eating a burger and pie at The Spot my last taste of civilization for what would be three days. As I was eating a local came in to buy a cup of sour cream. He said he used to ride motorcycles and his rule was “if it ain’t raining when I’m leaving then I’m leaving”. I was done eating and it wasn’t raining so I left. Down the highway I went, hopped a locked gate to a hike around a fence line where the sun went down. Up a hill, offered a beer by a camper, sorry I’m on the move and ride into the muddy night when eventually I bivvied out on the side of the road at around 11:00.
Day 2
Beep! Beep! Beep! Goes my alarm at 4:00am. Yeah right I thought and went back to sleep till 6:30. Packed up my gear and was back on my way. The Carizzo Plain was quite a sight to see in the light of the day with the wild flowers in bloom. A few more easy miles up a hill with a bunch of kook flower peepers in cars and then over a gate where cars can’t go. The wild flowers made the hills a psychedelic electric yellow. When I called my mom at the end she said you could see the flowers from outer space and I believe her. Past the gate The double track turned to overgrown single track to my eyes glued to the line on my gps because there wasn’t a trail at all. Up and down and up a road that had turned into a creek to some cow mangled trail. Up and down some more and eventually down to the highway at 4:00 in the afternoon. That crazy dude from Colorado made it here on the first night? Props to him. That was a hell of a journey and I’m only half way. I stop to eat some peanut butter and salami tortillas kick my feet up for a few minutes and up the hill I go. I’m going to ride till midnight I think to myself but when the late lunch wears off I hit the sack at a little after 9:00 and sleep like a brick underwater.
Day 3
Beep! Beep! Beep! Goes my alarm at 4:00am. Why am I even bothering to set this thing? and go back to sleep till sunup. As I get going I think that maybe I can finish this thing today. That would be cool. Well I roll and I poll up and down the Sierra Madre Ridge. Amazing views everywhere I look. Eventually I crest the thousandth hill of the day and I’m greeted with the most magical meadow ever with a big crazy rock formation in the middle. And I can even make out streams running which is nice cause I need water too. I want to stick around but am still of the mind that I’m finishing that night so I fill up my water and push on.
As I’m riding I start to question why do I like doing these things? They aren't what most people would consider a good time. I eat weird food, run myself ragged and don’t bathe for days on end. Well there’s no use in asking questions you can’t answer while I’m in the middle of nowhere with no easy way out so on I go up and over rockslides, snow and dead fall I eventually make it to the climb up Big Pine Mountain at around 4:30 in the evening. I stash my bike in the middle of the road and scurry up and down the trail to the summit as a requisite for a completing of the “Proper Rout”. Then I get to ride my bike in a direction that isn’t up. The fast descents slowed by more rock slides and erosion from this winter's rain. Eventually I get down to a gentle rolling section as the sun starts to set. I do some math in my head and realize that at this rate I won’t be done till four in the morning. The mountains are so pretty in the golden hour so I perch myself on top of a lily pad looking water tank and listen to the birds. This actually looks like a nice spot to camp and I’m asleep before the waning of the day’s last light.
Day 4
I don’t even bother with an alarm this time but am up before sunrise and hit the road around 6:00. Today something switched in my head. I feel calm and content. All the stresses of my not biking life a distant memory. Also the riding is really fun. Chunky fast downhill for what feels like forever. I slash the sidewall of my front tire on rocks and have to use a tube and I’m not even stressed about it. When I think things can’t get any better I get to ride some really fun singletrack through a botanical garden down to a thigh high river crossing. I carefully take off my shoes and hoist my bike over my head The water feels really good on my gross four day old feet. On the other side I stop to put my dry sock back on. I ride about 500’ down the road and realize I have to cross the river again. This time I don’t bother with my shoes and socks and just crash through the water. I put on some tunes and scurry up the last big climb of the rout. It’s crazy how listening to loud music can quite the mind and let you exist in the present. As I get to the top a really clean guy on a BMW motorcycle with knobby tires and a bunch of bags stuck onto it comes up to me and asks if he can go down that way. I tell him he can’t because of a locked gate and even if he could he wouldn’t be able to make it through the river also that he’s the first person I had seen for 48 hours. Now I’m on the ridge above Santa Barbara. It’s so high and the drop so steep it gives me vertigo. I ride the ridge for a few miles and then some really fun single track down down down down down till i’m among the homes of the 1% of the 1%. The sound of leaf blowers fills the air. A very strange juxtaposition to the landscape I had been riding through only an hour before. I ride a few more paved miles of Champs-Élysées to the beach where Erin is surprise waiting for me with a beer. I drink it and it is good.
The End
