San Benito, Clear Creek, and Idria

Saturday May 27, 2006

On the drive south to Paicines, CA rain pelted my windshield. In the gradually lightening sky I could see angry clouds swirling about Mt. Hamilton and the hills to the south. Knowing that that San Benito County could be hot this time of the year I had planned to do this ride on a cool day. The weather reports said nothing about rain, yet it was raining.

Fortunately, the clouds seemed less dense to the west, and with the prevailing northwest winds blowing the weather in the opposite direction, I expected this would all pass by the time I was on the bike. It did.

Ron Bobb and I had planned to meet at 7:00a in Paicines, CA near the store at the intersection of CA25 and Panoche Rd. as we had on our prior rides in San Benito County. A couple of minor events conspired to delay our departure until nearly 8:00a. Fortunately, this was just long enough to allow the weather to blow eastward. Perhaps some of the rain would dampen the dirt roads we were to ride later in the day.

Our route was inspired by a few ride reports written in recent years by Jobst Brandt (1, 2, 3) of his ride through this area and by my own curiosity after perusing a AAA roadmap of the area. We would ride south on CA25, then detour on Old Hernandez Rd. before taking Coalinga Rd. (County Road 109) over a short but moderately steep ridge into Hernandez Valley. Our route would then climb the dirt Clear Creek Rd. through the off-road vehicle recreation area to Clear Creek Summit before descending into the old mining ghost town of Idria, site of the abandoned New Idria quicksilver mine. We would then return to Paicines on New Idria and Panoche Rds.

Maps: Overview, Complete.

Detail Maps: Old Hernandez Rd., Lorenzo Vasquez Canyon to Hernandez Valley, Clear Creek and Idria.

(Set your browser not to resize images to fit window, and open the full-size images to see the details in the maps.)

We headed south on CA25 under cloudy skies and cool temperatures with the aid of a gentle tailwind. Traffic, most of it going to Pinnacles National Monument, vans and SUVs loaded to the windows with coolers and sleeping bags, passed us occasionally as we rode past miles of vineyards. A red-tailed hawk screeched and chased an interloping crow overhead. By the time we crested the hill north of the Bear Valley CDF station, the clouds had broken, allowing the morning sun to peek through.

We continued south through Bear Valley past the east entrance to Pinnacles. Bear Valley is shaped like the top of a “Y”; the stem and low point of the valley points southwest through Pinnacles. Water falling in this valley eventually flows into the Salinas River.

After we passed the Pinnacles entrance we began a mild climb along the other side of the “Y”, a climb that steepened shortly before a notch, the east side of which took us down into Dry Lake Valley. We turned left on San Benito Lateral that took us to Old Hernandez Rd. that heads south and upstream along the meanders of the San Benito River.

Old Hernandez Rd. climbs and descends along the spurs of Buck Ridge to the west and is not as flat as it appears on the map, about 700 feet of climbing altogether.

A few miles from San Benito Lateral, Old Hernandez Rd. crosses a new culvert and becomes a well-graded dirt road on the floodplain. In another mile we reached an unpaved ford that we could not ride through the San Benito River. We both walked our bikes through the ford, although Ron gave riding a try after we saw a motorcyclist ride through. As the morning air was still cool we removed our socks (and insoles) first, but walked through in shoes, not barefoot. If the water had been only a few inches high we could have done this without getting our feet wet as we discovered that our shoes were watertight. Once flooded, though, our shoes did not drain unless we tipped them upside-down.

The dirt part of Old Hernandez road eventually became paved as we neared its southern end. Somewhere along the southern end of Old Hernandez Rd. I saw frightened to flight a large black bird with a bare head that had been perched at the top of one of the taller trees. This bird had at least twice the wingspan of a vulture. It flew off behind some trees before I could photograph it, but I distinctly saw a skin-covered head and a tuft of feathers around the base of its neck. I think it was a California condor, but it could have been an enormous turkey vulture. It disappeared too quickly for me to be sure.

We turned left at Coalinga Rd. and continued along the San Benito River, past the Beaver Dam CDF station that was closed (although the residence behind the gate appeared to be occupied), and began the gradually steeper climb up Lorenzo Vasquez Canyon.

As I climbed I watched a particularly handsome red-tailed hawk circle lazily over us, first on one side then on the other side of the canyon. I thought of stopping to get a picture, but with my point & shoot camera, I’d have to get lucky and have him come close first.

Near the top of the climb at milepost 11.34 the road crosses a small but unusually clean-looking creek, unsullied by algae blooms. We stopped here to top off our water supply as good water would not be available for another 50+ miles. (I used a PUR Hiker pump filter that I had packed for just such an occasion.) I learned later that this creek is fed from Sweetwater Spring about a half mile up the mountainside. Ron thought the water tasted good. I agreed but detected a touch more salt than I am accustomed to, like drinking water out of a nearly spent water softener. It certainly was not as salty as the water we got at Mercey Hot Springs on our ride earlier in the year.

After climbing out of Lorenzo Vasquez Canyon the road descends sharply to Laguna Valley then climbs a low ridge before descending to the edge of Hernandez Reservoir and Hernandez Valley.

We rode past verdant Hernandez Valley for less then two miles before turning left onto Clear Creek Rd. Our first obstacle was a rideable paved ford through the San Benito River, our last crossing of this river, but the first of many such crossings of Clear Creek that we would make.

Clear Creek Rd. ascends through the Clear Creek Management Area, a popular off-road vehicle park managed by BLM (Bureau of Land Management). Clear Creek itself appears clear compared to San Carlos Creek on the other side of the ridge, but signs warning of asbestos-laden soil and abundant mine tailings and other mining activity, not to mention the motorbike traffic in the area, made me glad that we filled up our water at Sweetwater Spring.

Clear Creek Rd. climbs imperceptibly up Clear Creek Canyon to the Oak Flat campground. After the campground signs warn that the county-maintained road ends. The canyon narrows, and the road becomes rougher and steeper, climbing steeply above the creek for a while before plunging down and crossing it at a ford. It was on the longest and steepest of these uphills that we were forced to walk for about 200 yards, the second time of three that we had to walk our bikes during the day.

We passed several groups of motorbikers. Fortunately, we could hear them for about 10-15 seconds before they came within sight. These groups were not so frequent as to be annoying, and they were all with one exception courteous. (Ron almost got nailed by the leader of the first group we encountered coming down the hill.) Most of them waved. A few said, “Whoa! What was that?!”, as they went by.

We saw the rangers at one of the campgrounds further up the canyon. They were surprised when we told them we were going “over the hill to Idria.” I asked if the road was open all the way, and they said, “Yeah, it’s a county road all the way over.” One of them insisted on taking our picture, saying he had never seen bikes like ours in that area in all the years he’s worked there.

Once past the narrows of the canyon the road climbs more gradually alongside the creek, crossing it several times through paved fords, all of them rideable. At several places the road passes near large outcroppings of serpentine rock.

We passed several open areas, “barrens”, where off-roading is not restricted to established roads or trails. Some of the steep, barren hillsides appeared to be popular exercises for the motorbikers, although we saw none attempting these while we were there.

Eventually the road leaves the creek and begins a steady climb of several long switchbacks. As we rose out of the canyon the view opened up. We could see down the canyon where we had ridden, across to Picachos Ridge (4688ft and 4657ft) and Alta Peak (4709ft) that divide the watershed of Clear Creek from that of Sawmill Creek on the other side and to the east, the summit of San Benito Mountain (5241ft) and Clear Creek Summit (4441ft) we would have to cross.

Along one of these switchbacks near the top we saw a car coming down the road, and in the car was Ron’s dentist (and fellow woodwind player), Grant. Sometimes the world seems small.

When we got to the summit we couldn’t find a summit sign, so we used the direction sign as a backdrop for a couple of pictures (1, 2). From the summit we could see far below the dry reddish Ciervo Hills north of Idria, and beyond the cultivated fields of the San Joaquin Valley were clearly visible far below. It was then that I was aware of our elevation (4441 ft) and why the air felt cold in the light breeze now that we had stopped climbing.

The continuation of Clear Creek Rd. descends the north side of the ridge in dramatic fashion for the first 3/4-mile and 700 feet of drop. Much of it would be too steep to ride up, the surface being too loose for good traction. But, downhill was quite rideable or if loose, Drais-able*. We did not ride fast, not wanting to miss good picture opportunities, and there were several: San Carlos Peak, dramatic views, large barrens, and a panoramic view over Idria.

Prior to each sharp bend the surface of the road was wrinkled by moguls about eight to twelve inches deep spaced approximately six feet apart. These made for interesting riding. Most of the time I picked a line that avoided the deeper ones, especially as some of these had a muddy bottom, but once I allowed myself to go from one to the next at a faster pace. I found that their period was about equal to the wheelbase of my bike (72 inches), so that both front and rear wheels rose and fell together. I was able to suspend myself between my feet and my back and let the bike rise and fall underneath me, the seat slapping me lightly on my backside at the peaks of these moguls, although if I did not take care, the seat would slap my jewels.

The road descended more gradually after the junction with the road that climbs along the upper reach of San Carlos Creek. Where the road levels off we heard a nearby report of automatic gunfire: rat-tat-tat-tat, the noise echoing off the cliff on our left. We were hoping that’s all that was bouncing off the cliff. This was no shotgun. We rode quickly around the next corner and out of a direct line of whatever was being fired.

Along one of the tightly spaced switchbacks we walked our bikes for the second time past a mud bog. Slightly further down the road we passed a when-is-a-door-not-a-door door of one of the mineshafts. The void felt vaguely threatening as if unseen eyes were peering out at us.

About a half-mile before we arrived in Idria the road became steep and rocky. This time we draised* about 20 yards of the steepest, loosest stuff.

At an overlook of the town we beheld an ugly pool of acid mine drainage located directly behind the old smelter. The red/burnt orange color is apparently from iron oxide, not mercury. This is the “tomato soup” one sees flowing down San Carlos Creek.

The town of Idria itself appears unchanged from our prior visit in December 2004. We looked around for Dan Kingstone-Hunt, the town’s erstwhile caretaker, but neither he nor any sign of his dogs could be seen or heard. I took pictures of some of the buildings (Post Office, Mine Rescue, and General Store) and the main street, but just as I took the last picture before we left town my memory card filled up. Fortunately, I have pictures of the smelter and our return route available in the 2004 photo album.

We descended the mostly-paved New Idria Rd. as it dropped 1000 feet steeply through the narrow canyon and out into Vallecitos Valley. Where the road makes its bend to the west and leaves the shelter of the hills, the headwind that would accompany us most of the way home hit us full force. Even though the route was now familiar, we still had almost 50 miles to go.

We slowly climbed the gradual 400 feet to Syncline Divide into the roaring headwind, managing 11-12 mph. To break the monotony we watched numerous ground squirrels dart across the road in front of us. If we listened we could hear the rustling of the grass next to the road as warning that a squirrel was about to appear. Several of them squeaked warnings as we went by. I had visions of a squirrel climbing up under the fairing when one of them crossed in front of me and ran next to my front wheel for some distance before turning away and rushing into the grass by the road.

The descent to and through Griswold Canyon was just steep enough to counter the headwind, making the road feel level. When we exited the canyon into Panoche Valley we enjoyed a tailwind while the road tacked east, but the headwind hit us again, this time stronger, when the road rounded a bend and began to head again north and west.

We stopped at the Panoche Inn for a break. From the porch outside we could hear the sounds of laughter and billiards from within. I felt like I was walking into a different era. Several guys were at the bar in full western dress: Stetson hats, plaid shirts, jeans, and shoes with spurs. They were flirting with a couple women dressed similarly.

The Panoche Inn feels initially like the Junction Cafe, but the clientele appear to be predominantly country folks who actually work for a living on a ranch rather than what one can find at the Junction: the odd combination of city visitors (bikers and motorcyclists), drifters, and disaffected city folks who buy a few acres of land in the country and fancy themselves survivalists but depend on frequent trips into the city for work or provisions. And, the bathrooms are actually clean and well stocked.

Ron and I both decided to stay for a while to take a break from the wind. We each ordered a small meal of sandwiches, chips, and soft drinks from the friendly couple who run the place. Maybe the wind would weaken as the sun went down. We were in no rush as we had packed small lights in case we didn’t finish by dark.

After our break we continued northwest on Panoche Rd. into the now weaker wind, but directly into the setting sun past Llanda and up to Panoche Pass. At the pass we stopped to put on our taillights. I was hoping to get through the Tres Pinos Creek narrows before needing headlights. The moon would not be out tonight.

After the sun went behind the ridge, I witnessed a brilliant orange sunset until I remembered that my dark glasses, being burnt orange tint, made the sunset appear more saturated than it was.

While riding through the narrows I saw a great horned owl circle overhead, land in a tree, swivel its head, and peer down briefly at me, its “horns” visible in silhouette against the lighter sky, before taking off again on its broad, silent wings. I saw another great horned owl later on down the road circling over the fields looking for a meal.

As sunset turned to twilight I turned on my headlight and enjoyed the last 10 miles back to Paicines breathing in the sweet odor of drying grass, the scent of California.

Ride Stats:

Distance: 115.9 miles

Climbing: 8100 feet

Calories: 4360

Find the full picture gallery: here.

Information on Idria and the New Idria mine can be found here.

Information on the Clear Creek Management Area can be found here.

*Draising - named after Baron Karl von Drais inventor of the Laufmaschine or dandy-horse, propelled by the rider pushing along the ground with feet as in walking or running. On our bikes Ron and I draised only for balance not propulsion when descending steep, loose surfaces, but the technique can also be used to move slowly through tight or crowded spaces. This technique can be used to teach children to balance on bicycles without using training wheels.

©2006, Bill Bushnell

Please do not publish or distribute for profit without permission.