






Our appetite for exploring the many outcrops and caves scattered throughout the Boney Backbone was whetted after Chel and I had methodically worked through the climbing guidebook by Louie Anderson on Echo Cliffs, Balanced Rock, Mt. Olympus, Paleface, Top Hat, Pico Raquelita, Exchange Peak, Boney Bluff and Hueco Wall.
Then our climbing interest morphed to explore lesser known formations, stimulated by legends of Indian petroglyphs and man-made rock walls sequestering secret caves. A precedent was set by visiting the big, dark cyclops eye under the sunny south wall of Box Top (Soldier Peak) in July 2005. This set the style for the similar adventures described below where off-trail hiking, route finding and technical climbing are elements to discovering obscure and intriguing places.
(I) PICO RAQUELITA (DOME ROCK) on 5/13/07 = = = = =
Pico Raquelita, perhaps better known as Big Dome or Dome Rock to Sierra Club clientele, is the first largish outcrop heading west along the Backbone Trail after Sandstone Peak. There are several interesting looking caves in the east face that immediately caught my attention.
We parked at the trail head by 6:30 and trudged uphill to reach the High Tops an hour later. The morning was clear and thankfully cool as I had a cruel load with climbing pack plus photographic paraphernalia. Chel pranced along under a lighter load, as is her wont. Soon the elevation gain placed us above the smoke haze from recent LA fires and we enjoyed a short downhill section of the trail before diverting into chaparral.
A short but vicious battle ensued to place us against the eastern rock wall of Pico Raquelita. The start was just off vertical but quickly mellowed to easy solo terrain, so I spotted Chel while she completed the steep entrance moves. After that, moderate scrambling on open, loose rock led to a small overlap and bulge we overcame through a shallow break.
Actually, this was the only negotiable fault through an otherwise unbroken, overhanging band that blocked progress across most of the east side, so we were fortunate to hit the right spot first time. Soon thereafter we were on the open summit area littered with flat stones that gave a curious metallic clink when disturbed underfoot. Time for refreshment and pictures then off to work setting up a rope to vector in on the east face offerings.
I secured a scraggly bush with a long webbing sling then placed a 3“ cam in some gnarly rock below as backup. These anchors gave me confidence to scramble down into the largest cave where a hand-built stone wall screened half the entrance. Curious indeed as the hike and scramble to this cave was non trivial. The cave presented a narrow slot, maybe 10’ deep, 5’ tall and 25’ wide. There was nothing inside of note other than stacked stones walling up the left side (looking out).
I continued rappelling all the way to the base to make the direct climb back up. Chel belayed from the cave while I negotiated a vertical midsection through the center of the face that was never too hard, just a bit insecure on loose rock.
The holds were nice and sharp, some too sharp, and there were many holes to grab, nooks vacated by cobblestones if you will. Who knows what creatures lurked within? Halfway up I spied a huge and fortunately abandoned bee honeycomb attached under an overhang. Back at the cave we lingered a bit, observing a large party of tourists jabbering along the trail below.
We leisurely packed our scattered gear at the summit and went down the easier west side to approach our final quest of the day. I had noticed a nice open creek bed paved with white, polished stones from the summit and assumed it would continue unimpeded to rejoin the Sandstone Peak trail and thereby complete a most appealing circumnavigation. Wrong!
It all started pleasantly enough after leaving the trail at a water pipe crossing over the creek, now bleached and sandy in one of our driest seasons on record. There were a few meanders before the brush started closing in on both sides forcing the creek into a gully then deeper canyon.
The going got tougher, with debris jammed up against big blocks offering a tortuous path through, over or under. So far, so good with terrain a lot like ”The Grotto“ below the Circle-X Ranger Station (photo link). There were occasional pools of stagnant water, some swarming in wild bees. Then we hit serious poison oak at a point of no easy return. The PO clustered in thickets so dense it was foolhardy to press straight through. Tentacles reached in from all sides, above and below as well, often cunningly disguised among other leafy greenery.
We were obliged to escape up the steep left wall but were soon confronted by incredibly dense brush that finally confounded us. So we pushed, shoved, cursed and fell through the choking, dusty mess until there was no alternative but to drop back in the creek where a large clearing presented itself under huge stacked boulders bristling with cobblestones.
This was an eerie, magic place, to be sure, and perhaps the petroglyph site. The book "Hiking Trails in the Santa Monica Mountains" by McAuley mentions a side trail branching off above Split Rock near here but since closed to preserve sensitive Indian art. We saw neither trail nor petroglyphs and chose to escape the canyon at a Y-junction up a steep ravine descending from the Boney plateau above.
The main canyon plunged left into heavily vegetated gloom below Skull Rock but our exit was more reasonable over terraces scoured by water and coated with brilliant orange lichen patches. Soon direct progress was barred by the waterfall and we carefully climbed out left along an exposed ramp decorated by magnificent blooming Dudleya and other wildflowers.
I am always amazed by the hardy Santa Monica Dudleya that thrive in these most barren places. They are supposedly endangered and caused closure of the climbers' trail to Echo Cliffs for a while.
It was a steady, hard, hot climb till the angle eased and we could stagger through an open stretch of vile sticker grass to complete the circumnavigation by rejoining Sandstone Peak trail. After that, the downhill hike to the trailhead was a breeze and took only 45 minutes.
We had covered interesting and varied terrain, from bleak, barren rocky summits to dense undergrowth and grottos and scouted the way for the following adventures.
(II) METEORA on 5/20/07 = = = = = = =
Next week we returned to our favorite Santa Monica Exploratorium enticed by another formation hosting several intriguing caves. We dubbed this site "Meteora" as it has no name we are aware of. Again we plunged off trail below Sandstone Peak and headed west through the swell of familiar yet unwelcome thick chaparral over several rock islands crowning the canyon rim.
Chel climbed the unique perched head of Meteora while I took pictures reviewing our hike the previous week in the canyon below. Next we scrambled down the back of the formation under the shady north side that was scarred like a giant meteor from outer space. We came upon a most impressive cave at the base.
Some aluminum foil in a recess indicated prior exploration. A simple explanation could be a crafty raven had carried the shiny foil here to decorate its roost, as there were plenty of excellent, sheltered nesting sites, but then I found a enigmatic stone circle no bird or animal could build in the higher #2 cave.
It was a technical climb and there was an even higher and larger cave #3 beyond safe soloing range. Time to unleash the rope. So we returned to the summit gear stash and powered up on Milo, cheese sticks and vegemite before attending to the predictable, long search for some reasonable anchors. Nothing came readily to hand so much effort was needed prepare questionable anchors in this forlorn place.
Our anchor rope was barely long enough to reach over the pebbled dome of Meteora to the lichened north face where the desired caves lay in wait. I rappelled down first over a coarse stubble of cobbles and came upon a most delightful upper cave. It had a sunny verandah with yellow flowers and a deep, conical recess.
It was a safe place so Chel joined me to enjoy the view and we took many pictures before continuing down. We passed another cave, more of a narrow, long slot, then swung over an overhang where the cliff turned orange to an impressive burgundy red. We reached the base after an exciting free rappel with just 5’ of rope to spare.
I then climbed back up belayed by Chel, hopefully on the right end of the rope, and confirmed the next higher cave could be reached by some technical climbing moves, perhaps around 5.5 or so. It became much harder above where the angle steepened to near vertical and holds diminished to tiny flakes peeling off brittle rock.
The crux was 5.10 and solved by a lunge to a small finger pocket. After that a rising traverse left above the cave got me to a large cobble and easier climbing over low-angle lichen. I had all gear packed for our return by the time Chel had scrabbled up the easy east side.
(III) SKULL ROCK on 5/27/07 = = = = = = = = = =
Several years had passed since we were first drawn to the sinister Skull Rock, significant enough to be named on trail and topo maps, where it scowls down on the Mishe Mokwa Trail from the eastern end of a gloomy, honeycombed escarpment. We quickly learned by our circumnavigation of Pico Raquelita (above) that any attempt from below across the lush canyon was foolhardy, so our approach had to be from above.
Once more we trekked off trail across the High Top plateau that is characterized by open, rocky patches mottled by a sea of scrub, where it became a matter of connecting dots by trial and error. By chance we spied a faint line through the chaparral that opened into a rudimentary trail established some time ago. Now it was mostly overgrown, and along the way we found a short bit of climber's rope, suggesting other rock hounds had been this way, perhaps with a similar objective.
The old trail was pretty much a straight shot over, but fizzled out before the rim of the Skull Rock escarpment. Finally a short struggle sufficed to situate us on the Skull itself where the eye glared somewhere below under a beetling brow. There was no easy scramble down so we bust open our heavy load of ropes and slings.
As usual, solid anchors were a rarity and I had to scout about to dig out a block under some scraggly bush for a sling then back it up with a healthier bush and cam under a rock overlap. I knew the eye of Skull Rock was directly below, but this would entail an irreversible free rappel in space, so I chose a more conservative approach down the east face to a perched block I hoped would provide an entry point by a traverse.
So it proved, but the route was a little more complex going down a deep, dark chimney before a long, exposed and unprotected traverse. I could no longer rappel this sideways section so unclipped after securing the rope on a block. Then I entered the brooding eye of the skull holding artifacts from previous visitors, so obviously I was not the first to be attracted to this very special place.
There was a glass candle holder in the shape of a five-pointed star in the middle of a stone circle with hour markers and another filled-in circle of stones closer to the edge of the jutting jaw. What could these curious rock patterns mean? The waxy remains of a candle at the bottom of the holder indicated some ceremony or night vigil, perhaps?
At least the visitors were modern man and roped no less, as the eye is beyond safe scrambling range. I lingered for a while taking pictures and was careful not to disturb the mystical stones. Then it was time to return, so I cautioned to Chel on her sunny perch above the route was too convoluted for her to follow.
She belayed me as I traversed back to the squeeze chimney that proved to be strenuous and awkward over insecure pebbles and lichen. I spied an aluminum karabiner dropped in the chimney but could not easily retrieve it, so continued my struggle up to the large perched block and easier climing.
Now I could see Chel happy watching acrobatic swallows zip past and rejoined her after just a few more technical moves up a seam. Back on trail we could finally remove hot, long sleeves (brush protection), check for ticks then trek on over to the long downhill run below Sandstone Peak.
This descent is very jarring on knees under heavy packs. We were quickly brought to the present by a magnificent 4’ Pacific rattlesnake stretched across the trail. He had almost black markings and eyed us steadily as we froze in position. Obviously he didn’t feel threatened so spared the rattle while slithering back into the brush to assume a coiled defensive position.
We carefully passed and the only other incident was a pair of goofy ravens slamming into a nearby cliff and scuttling about its steep slope before coasting off again on their large, glossy black wings. How we would love to return as ravens in the afterlife.
These adventures concluded our Santa Monica Mountains cave phase.
Santa Rosa Road is one of our favorite morning walks with Phoebe to vent her excess energy. Now the road is under renovation with the old bridge outside Mosby Winery being demolished and replaced to meet current earthquake code.
Souza have the contract and their Cats have been prepping the bypass the last week or so. A big wrecking ball then took out the old bridge as we captured the memories. Phoebe couldn't care less and relished some fresh dirt to excavate in the midst of all the cacophony. Our girl got down and dirty!
This is what I'm talkin about
My eccentricities are always a major embarrassment to my children, so I take delight in eclipsing past social blunders in ever more outlandish ways. For example, when my Son visits I make it a point to collect him at Santa Barbara airport in suitable transportation violating the town vehicle dress code and quite abhorrent to the indigenous tony Range Rover / Escalade set.
My ancient, battle-scarred 4WD Quigley Vandura is one good example, followed by a delightful Cummins-powered Dodge 4x4 in outrageous Caltrans orange. These functional classics were a hard act to follow but I have now excelled myself. Herewith I present the ultimate evil truck, the star of "Duel" no less, a Peterbilt 281.
Chance smiled upon us today and the 1964 beauty featured here was ours for the taking. It couldn't have been more perfect; classic Peterbilt scowl, swamp-box AC, driver fan, rectangular air-cleaner, single stack, rattling engine butterfly covers and drab rust patina. The best part is a "souped up" diesel as the owner prepped this truck for racing.
Check out these old-time switches and gauges that don't need no steenkin' CPU control. Men understood their machinery back in '64. There's a dual-range transfer case for racing, too. The final touch has to be an air starter to disperse crowds within a 100-yard radius. On a final note, Range Rovers, Gelandenwagens, Beemers and similar pretentious vanity vehicles are but mere appetizers for the 281, so the effete better keep their distance. As for the unfortunate few with a Plymouth Valiant, you should've got the Dodge hemi!