Nice place with a tricky trail
Well hmm. We come away from this stay with mixed feelings about the campground. On the one hand, it is very beautiful and peaceful and remote. It’s a five mile drive on an unpaved road to get there, but the road is not too bad. It’s wash boardy for sure, and will shake the flocking off your holiday tree. We also found two screws on the floor that had come loose from the underside of the microwave cabinet, plus the Fantastic Fan remote had fallen down and now something is ratting inside. But otherwise, there was no unfixable damage, so it’s definitely doable for Dory.
Unpaved approach
There was one place in the road, just before the sites, that had a nasty crack in the middle. We were just able to scoot past it by keeping as far left as possible. If the rains have opened that up any farther, it would present a significant barrier to entry or exit. There were hardly any other campers, so we selected a site that had a nice view and seemed to be nosing into the wind.
Cool cave along the trail
We were in high spirits and headed out to the Owl Canyon trail right after getting settled in. We’ve done that trail before and I was eager to take a look at the rocks that stopped me last time. As hikes go, it’s a scenic walk up a rocky wash, where there is a short little side trip through a cave on your right, about a mile up the trail. The colors of the rocky cliffs are pretty and there was no one else on the trail.
Impasse (for me)
Sure enough, we found the spot where I noped out before, and cutting to the chase, noped out harder this time. We had been thinking maybe Richard could offer his knee to get me up a tall smooth chute, but looking at it again made us both realize that would never work. First off, it’s way too high for a knee assist to help. Second, the base of it was full of water this time. The approach Richard took on the left was still too risky for my blood. I simply don’t trust that my feet wouldn’t slip, or that my hands would have the strength to hold onto the rock if they did. It would be a big enough fall that some part of my body would definitely hurt, and after trying again and again to get up the courage to cross over, I realized there was really nothing in this for me to push myself through it. The trail on the other side just gets worse with scrambling. And even if it didn’t, I wouldn’t enjoy it because I’d be fixated on how I was going to get back down.
Pro relationship tip of the day: never say to your scared hiking partner, “No problem! It’s so easy!” unless or until they themselves have made it through.
I reminded Richard that “overcoming challenges” is not one of my core values, but as it is one of his, he was welcome to keep going while I stayed behind and had a snack. He went on ahead, determined to get to the end of the “green line,” meaning, the route on AllTrails marking the full length of the trail.
Even if I’d made it over the first challenge, this one immediately followed.
We learned a couple of things from this experience, none of which work in favor of staying at that campground again. First, I now know how to use satellite texting. I just got a new phone with this feature, so part of my time was spent trying to figure out how to turn it on and use it. When there is no cell service, both of our phones can now connect to satellites to send messages to each other, like to say we’re not lost and are not injured, even though we’ve been gone for forty five minutes. For, you know, example.
And then this one, which Richard says is the hardest of all of them.
Next, if Richard has been sitting in a car for five hours, things are not good, just as a default state. He’s like a Border Collie who has to run all day long or he chews up the furniture. Once you let him out of the car, he’s going to have a very hard time slowing down. And if he has in mind a particular trail he wants to do, he means all of it. Whatever the green line says is what he’s going to do, regardless of what obstacles stand in the way. This means I’d better be damn careful if I try to do something with him. Better idea is to just let him go blow off steam at his crazy ass pace while I stay behind and entertain myself. When there’s no cell service, that’s a little harder for me, but still better than feeling like dead weight being pulled along by a sled dog.
At the end of it, you get a so so view. But you do get bragging rights if you made it this far.
Because of all of this, the Owl Canyon Campground might not be a great choice for us after a long drive. The only other trail on the menu is over seven miles along the Rainbow Basin, and if arriving later in the afternoon, would be impossible to do before dark. We could always make it a two night stay, but that still leaves the question of: how to you run the Collie when you get there? Really, the only viable option is for me to walk about two miles until the first impasse and then walk down without him so I’m not waiting there with no service for about an hour, worrying he’s in trouble.
Still, it’s a lovely and very peaceful campground.
Otherwise, the campground is really nice, so this is all kind of a shame. There is just enough cell service from the campground to do most things. If I had waited in the campground, he could satellite text me his status. I could always stay in Dory and do things. Or I can take up knitting. It was worth it at least to figure all of this out and know how it could be done better in the future. This, plus Calico and the KOA, give us three options when stopping in Barstow. The one that’s left to explore is the Sawtooth Canyon BLM. Options for Barstow are good to have, since this is always a good stopping point when traveling to the deserts. One more travel day and no rain so far.
Total miles from Harris Ranch: 237.7, 5 hours 17 min. Site 29. No reservations. $6 per night. No water, no dump, no electricity. Road was dodgy in one place and is probably worse now, after the storms.
