Photo essay: Not quite there ...
The moral of the story: know your limits, and always look for the 'random berry'
LOS ANGELES — I am getting old. The latest casualty in my life seems to be heat tolerance.
Last weekend, the SoCal Naturists, Camping Bares and a couple of other groups had a weekend camping trip to Bowens Ranch and Deep Creek Hot Springs. I have been there before many times.
I wasn’t free to do Friday through Sunday, so I instead planned to go out just for Saturday. I’d meet up with them at the hot springs but not the camp. Also, since I wouldn’t be camping, I was going out a different way. Bradford Ridge Trail approaches the location from the south, the Lake Arrowhead side.
Highway 173 runs through Arrowhead until it dead-ends at a gate. Just beyond the gate, the pavement disappears. At one time, it was the last remaining state highway that had not yet been paved. The state decided it didn’t want to bother maintaining it and closed it to vehicular traffic. You can see the occasional hiker, cyclist or equestrian using it, but nothing with a motor. At least not legally. Five miles later, after another gate, the pavement begins again.
Just before the gate is where you pick up the Bradford Ridge Trail. It is 2.7 miles instead of the 1.75 miles that the route from Bowens takes. It has 830 feet of elevation loss/gain instead of 970. Parking at the end of the road is free and has no time limits, another benefit. I have taken this route twice before, and I know it is easier and just as scenic.
I planned to get to the trailhead by 10 a.m. Things never work as planned. It was almost noon when I got there. It had really gotten too hot by then for a fun hike. I’m not particularly eager to hike in 90F+ weather. But once I got to the river, I could cool off whenever I wanted, right?
Some people were getting back to the trailhead to leave. Yet others were just arriving in their cars to hike down. One woman from a pair of couples who were starting the hike must have decided that I was an old-timer who knew the area well because she came over to my car to ask for directions. I gave her the map I’d printed and suggested they all take lots of water. Without a filter, there’d be no safe sources until they returned.
I followed soon after they hit the trail. Within a hundred yards, I was invisible to the road and off came the clothes. I’ve hiked this nude before. The people returning from the hot springs have all seen naked people already, so I’m not worried. And since there’s no cell service for miles, who would they complain to anyhow? I start doing my usual photography along the way
I’ve hiked when it was warm before. Just go slow and drink lots of water. This time, it was different. I started feeling tired and faint almost right away. Way too soon to be dehydrated or exhausted from effort. Possibly a medication I’m on?
The worst thing about the trail was the lack of shade. (Not a problem if it was cooler.) This area is on the borderline between chaparral and desert scrub. To get any shade, I had to crouch under the few bushes that lined the trail. As the hike went on, it only got hotter. I had to put on my shirt for some shade. It is very loose, and if you don’t do any buttons, it still lets the breeze through. Total nudity is not always more comfortable.
I squirted water over my hat and shirt from my 3-liter hydration bladder. It evaporated almost instantly.
About a third of the way there, I decided it would be miserable if I continued. I could have made the river if my life depended on it, but I was moving very slowly, and I felt constantly tired. I turned back. Along the way, there was exactly one spot flat enough to relax comfortably. I put my clothes under me, propped my pack up against a boulder, and rested.
There is no point in hiking if it feels like drudgery.
The spot I rested at was in a gully where a tiny trickle of water kept the soil slightly moist. Some wild honeybees had made a nest in the rocks 10 feet away. I ignored them, and they ignored me. I put my hat over my eyes and snoozed for a bit. Then I ate some snacks and continued on my way back. A breeze picked up. It was still a good day to be naked and free.
The rest did me some good. I made it back to the car with no further problems. Got dressed again in the same place I’d got undressed. Didn’t see another person the whole time I’d been out. Arrowhead was only a few miles away, 20 degrees cooler, and full of stunning scenery. I bombed around there for a while before going home.
I’m not disappointed in this hike. It was not the best possible hike, but every time you head into the wild, there are things you didn’t predict. There’s something to be said for being flexible. One needs to be able to enjoy something for what it is and not fuss over what it could have been.
One also needs to know one’s limits and be willing to cut something short before it gets miserable or even dangerous.
There is a story about a Buddhist monk who was being chased by a tiger. The tiger finally cornered him against a steep cliff. Given a choice between being eaten by the tiger and a great fall, he chose the fall and jumped.
On his way down, he managed to grab a bush to stop his fall. Clinging to this bush, he noticed a ripe red berry, which he plucked and ate.
“What a wonderful day,” he thought to himself, “That I should be so lucky as to find this delicious berry just waiting for me to eat it!”
Always look for the random berry, and you’ll enjoy yourself where others would be unhappy.
I was thinking as I was reading your piece, Fred: Why not carry a small sun umbrella to protect yourself out there in the wilds of California where there is no shade to be found?
I carry an umbrella to provide myself my own shade. We missed you, Fred. Six of us ended up camping overnight with no clothes, having a nice campfire in our old usual spot, Argentinian sausages over the fire, and all the fixings for fajitas, veggies, fruits, pie...no one got burnt at the hot springs, and the creek was below my non-existing underwear. You made the right health choice, Fred! I look forward to seeing you on another naturist adventure.