My backpacking pals Wild Bill, The Duke and I have had fewer backpacks than usual last year because of Wild Bill’s knee surgery.
Although a good part of the season was past and The Duke was out of town, Wild Bill and I got out to the Lost Coast (my third trip there, his second) for a three-nighter.
The Lost Coast Trail is 28 miles long, from Shelter Cove, California in the south to the Mattole (pronounced ma-toll) River in the North. Driving north on Highway 1, we turned off at the Honeydew exit and followed the road through Humboldt Redwoods State Park about 35 miles over the King Mountain Range to the trailhead at the mouth of the Mattole River where we camped the first night.
The next morning we set out on the trail with tide book in hand. Several miles of the trail are impassable at high tide. Even on some of the relatively high low tides, you can barely slip by some points. When I say barely slip by, I mean it. You’ve got a shear cliff on one side and the gap of dry sand between you and the ocean is maybe five feet.
No fear, though. If you were to get caught in a high tide area you could climb up on a rock off the beach and wait out the tide. It’s not ideal, but at least you don’t have to worry about getting swept away by the rising sea. About three miles from the trailhead is the abandoned Punta Gorda Lighthouse. The lantern room and ladder are still in tact, allowing you to climb up for a sweeping 180-degree view. The lens is long gone. The lightkeeper houses were burned down by the bureau of land management in the 1980’s. You can only imagine how isolated it must have been for the lightkeepers and their families. I mean it’s called Lost Coast for a reason. If you’ve seen the TV show “Lost” you get a sense of what awaits you here.
The trail is on the beach and on the bluff. In some places you can choose. In other places the trail disappears into the ocean, like at Sea Lion Point, where (you guessed it) sea lions cover rocks and you have no choice. In some spots, bowling ball size boulders in the surf make a huge noise, a kind of roar as the surf grinds away at the sand around them. At Sea Lion Rock, you literally look down from the bluff on a colony of sea lions.
Our destination was Spanish Flat, 10 miles south, on a wide expanse of beach strewn with driftwood. Thanks to previous visitors, there were several driftwood shelters with places to sit, “rooms” to shelter your tent and places to get out of the wind while you enjoy a blazing fire. Wood is plentiful. A shallow river bisects the flat. Wild Irises were abundant. To the east, pines trees cover the mountain side and and hardwoods line the river.
As you look north and south, mountains appear to merge with the ocean, creating one of the most dramatic views you’ll every experience – a scene of raw beauty. The mist and fog common around this area in spring and summer add to the feeling of wildness and isolation from the rest of the world. You quickly understand why this is called the Lost Coast, a backpacking destination that those who stick to the forests will never experience.
Be light. Be safe. Be one with the pack.
