Into the (Almost) Wilderness: Carmel River Run

Shortly after our occasionally misguided adventure into the Ventana Wilderness last month, several of my training partners made a commitment of sorts to start exploring this area more frequently, taking advantage of the tremendous trail-running opportunities that lay just beyond our backyard.



So it was that five of us checked out the Carmel River trail last weekend. Traditionally, the trail is only seldom maintained, and nearly impossible to navigate during the rainy season, which is just winding down now. So this was more of a “let’s get a feel for the area and the trail conditions” outing rather than an epic adventure – which, fortunately, doesn’t make things any less fun.


This is the nearest entrance to Ventana from Carmel Valley, making it the most convenient access point for trail runners – and apparently hunters as well. As the sign indicates, this trail also connects with Pine Valley, the site of our earlier excursion (and where 90-year-old Jack English resides in this cabin), but in early spring, it would have to be an amphibious assault from this direction – more on that later.


Before hitting the trail, we run past the spillway of Los Padres Dam, which holds the main water supply for Carmel Valley. The Carmel has shown up on lists of America’s most endangered rivers in recent years – but standing here watching the water blast down the spillway, you’d never know it.


At water’s edge, I captured one of those cool mirror reflection photos that never seem to come out right for me. I considered it a good start to the day.


The trail soon climbed high above the reservoir, beginning a roller-coaster course of ups and downs traversing the multiple steep canyons that Carmel Valley is famous for.


However, by Ventana standards, none of the vertical changes on this run were especially brutal, as the trail maintains a fairly close proximity to the river whenever possible. And aside from the occasional downed tree, we were pleasantly surprised with how clear the trail was.


This seemed like a real stream crossing to me, although my friend Brian reported that this isn’t usually considered one of the official river crossings that are documented on trail maps and hiking forums. Depending on which reference you use, and what time of year it is, there are anywhere between 25 to 30 river crossings in the 13 miles between the trailhead and Pine Valley; since this one got my legs just as wet as an “official” one, I’m counting it.


The next crossing was nearly waist-deep, and since I was holding my camera up to make sure it stayed dry, I figured I might as well take a picture. There may have been some discussion as to whether this was an official crossing as well. Whatever.


From the top of another steep climb, a typical Ventana view. While it lacks the elevation of mountain wilderness, the steepness and rugged terrain of this area is on par with anywhere else I’ve ever run. In case you wondered why I love exploring it so much.


The confluence of two rivers served as our turnaround point, partly because the trail was starting to fade out on us, and partly because this is where the “official” river crossings – which are reportedly deeper and wider than the others – began in earnest.


This picture doesn’t do the scene much justice unless you enlarge it – but at the top of the first return climb, there’s a glimpse of the river cutting through the valley below. I was trying to capture the steepness of these canyons, but it doesn’t translate nearly as well in a still image, I guess.


Speaking of camera issues: have you ever had someone look through your camera for several seconds, then ask which button to push or some other question about how the thing works, only to have the flash go off right when you’re in the middle of explaining it to him? Um … I have.


So when someone else in the group asked if I wanted my picture taken coming around this curve, I was a little bit skeptical that it would come out well. But I have to admit, I like this picture a lot – and I’m really glad I listened to her.

(And just FYI, the reason I wanted a couple of pictures isn’t so much vanity – well, OK, maybe just a little - but more because I’m currently reviewing at least four different items I’m wearing in these shots. Details TBA.)


Shortly before returning to the reservoir, we took a side trip consisting of a one-mile climb to a ridge with this wonderful view. By this time, we had been running for nearly three hours, done several (official or otherwise) river crossings, and traversed all manner of technical trails – but then …

Remember that map I showed earlier? Just as I was feeling like a rugged outdoorsman, I pulled it out of my pack to see just how far into the great wild wilderness we had traveled, and I realized that we were here:

Click to enlarge - I added the red arrow and red X

We had spent most of our morning in the white section – which led to the following exchange at the top of the ridge:

Me: Wait … so we’re not even IN the wilderness yet?

Friend 1: Um … no. There’s a sign about another mile down this trail marking where the wilderness area starts.

Me: But we’ve been running all morning!

Friend 2: It’s a big wilderness.


Given that our entire route had only touched on the very outskirts of the green map areas, as we climbed above the reservoir on our return to the trailhead, I was somewhat befuddled by all the unofficial river crossings I had done in a mostly unofficial wilderness area. Thankfully, those minor drawbacks were the only things lacking in an otherwise fantastic run.

The miles were real (except for one that went missing on my GPS somehow). The hills and the trails and sights and sounds were all real. Most importantly of all, my joy was real - as is my desire to return here many more times to come.