Butchered deer legs and hooves left at a campsite by hunters are not pleasant and inspire important reminders
Pulling into U.S. Forest Service Reyes Peak Campground early on a Sunday morning, Oct. 20, I was pleasantly surprised to find most of the six scenic sites already occupied. Our 7,000-foot elevation augured ideal hiking and overnight truck-camping conditions. Internet forecasts turned out to be incorrect, and we had a high of 74 degrees and an overnight low of only 45 degrees -- honestly, quite invigorating! (4.1.1. driving directions.)
"Pleasantly surprised" because I appreciate it when Americans of every stripe and persuasion can car-camp near each other, such as we experienced on this lofty mountaintop between Ojai and the extreme southern part of the Sierra Nevada range.
After nabbing a site and setting up, we drove on another two miles to the end of the Pine Mountain Road and began an easy hike on the signed Reyes Peak Trail.
The path ascends aggressively and becomes quite steep. I enjoyed utilizing my twin hiking poles and consciously decided to take my time.
There are numerous level sections with grand vistas facing north out over the Cuyama River Valley toward 9,000-foot Mount Pinos (Iwihinmu) and Cerronoroeste Peak (elevation 8,300 feet).
Frequent stops to admire the magnitude kept inspiration strong and invited photographs. I could pick out the Conejo Mountains and Point Mugu when we looked the other way southward out to sea as great gobs of fog obscured the southern view on Oct. 20. Occasionally, a glimpse of Anacapa Island's ghostly silhouette appeared in the mist.
Huge sugar pines, Jeffrey pines and ponderosas line the narrow path that snakes right up the side of Reyes Peak (located on Pine Mountain behind Ojai). We saw several dead sugar pine giants near our wending way and could see how they eventually deteriorate into soil, quite necessary in this arid high alpine region.
I had all of my usual hiking gear and a sandwich, plus plenty of water. We rested at the top, where we devoured lunch and used wild Pete's heavy binoculars to study various flora and fauna in the area.
While driving out past Ojai on Highway 33, the road to nowhere, I noticed scores of small trucks and cars parked (legally) by the roadside.
We observed a few men with rifles in the brush, and one guy dressed in a very large butcher's apron as he stood on the other side of his pickup truck. It seemed sure that these were deer hunters, and after checking on the internet later, I learned that the general deer hunting season for this area (Zone D13) began Oct. 12 and will last until Nov. 10.
Driving back the two miles from the Reyes Peak Trailhead, we passed the six official campground sites and noticed that most groups had left except for the large family group at site No. 3. This is rated the best site with an excellent table and astounding views south toward Port Hueneme (brightly lit at night).
Suddenly we detected a large, flayed deer hanging by a rope near the official fire pit (an iron circle). It had been decapitated, so we couldn't see this buck's antlers, but it would have been at least a four-pointer, and a pretty big mammal.
There are hunters in my family. It's an ancient American tradition, and I've enjoyed broiled venison, but this column is no place to spout my views on the Second Amendment. I do not hunt (or fish) and had forgotten that deer hunting season in these parts had just started up. Since we hadn't heard gunshots in the official Reyes Peak Campground area (strictly forbidden, of course) and rarely saw deer up here anyway, we dropped the issue and planned for the Monday hike down the other side of the mountain.
The well-signed Chorro Grande Springs Trail (23W05) is at the other end of the campground. With two parking spaces there, we parked in one and happily began the one-mile steep descent to this famous spring and the adjacent (very primitive) trail camp of the same name.
"Chorro" means water jet or a blast of water -- and the awesome stream (chorro) coming out of the giant boulder is indeed a grande chorro. Over several decades, I've found Chorro Grande Springs, with a conifer canopy and fragrant pine needle floor, pretty steady and right now the flow is copious.
During a couple of our long multiyear droughts, the stream subsided and the area became a muddy bog with masses of flying insects, who had only this water to survive upon.
This trail would continue to descend all the way to Highway 33 far below, which the hiker can usually see, along with the Sespe River at times. In the past, I've made a great five-mile hike from the opposite direction, low to high, by hiking up from Highway 33 at the signed Chorro Grande Springs Trail there.
If you choose to do this arduous trek, pre-park a second vehicle up above at Reyes Peak Campground fully stocked with cool drinks and food.
When wild Pete and I spoke with the officials from the concessionaire, Parks Management Co., at the Reyes Peak Campground, they assured us that chopping up and dressing dead game inside an official campsite, like site No. 3, was perfectly legal.
The next morning, Monday, Oct. 21, when we passed by site No. 3 and saw that it had been fully vacated, we went over to look at our favorite site, where I have camped many times since at least the 1990s.
Some general cleanup had taken place, although there were still melon rinds and other food bits scattered around. No big deal, eh? However, about 15 feet from the fire pit we found traces of deer guts (viscera) and then the four bloody hooves from the dismembered mule deer shown in my photograph.
Back in Santa Barbara, I've checked out the Department of Agriculture's "Developed Campground Rules" site under the "Food Storage" section, and they do not mention or ban gutting/dressing large deer or other mammals inside a recreational developed campsite (like Reyes site No. 3). However, the government (Department of Agriculture) makes very clear that leaving bloody "bear attractant" around a Forest Service campsite is strictly verboten: "Forbidden to leave refuse or bear attractant unattended unless it is: a. properly stored in a bear-resistant container ... ."
Reyes Peak Campground should have bear boxes like Campo Alto Campground does on nearby Cerronoroeste Peak (Mount Abel). I did not want to dig around in site No. 3, but there may be more of this beast's entrails buried nearby. There is no water and no trash dumpster at Reyes Peak Campground, so campers need to take all trash out in their vehicles, and everything has to be driven out with the camper in their car.
The four bloody hooves and lower legs shown in the photograph were untouched by us, and just stank there, visible on the dirt.
Obviously, a privatized outfit like Parks Management Co. doesn't much care about the nuance of regulations like this; they are not forest rangers for "the feds." They are fee collectors and have some good people, but they don't have any sort of official presence. I have written before about the ills of privatizing supervision and care for USFS campgrounds in the West.
What if you come up to Reyes Peak Campground and after awhile your young child brings you one of these gory deer legs in baffled wonderment?
Where's the appropriate regulation and hygienic control over this campground's recreational family sites? Children play here! Do the U.S. Forest Service and Department of Agriculture want game animal bloody bones and legs inside a developed campground?
I've been to Reyes Peak Campground at least 30 times over the decades, and it is family-friendly and often teeming with children. Who will control the hunters' offal there?
4.1.1.
Drive south on Highway 101 to the Highway 33 turnoff just before Ventura. Drive through Ojai and continue on the "Maricopa Highway" (the scenic 33). Please note that there are five solar-powered stoplights on this section with waits of up to five minutes each time. Drive on past Rose Valley (signed) to the signed right turn Pine Mountain Road. Motor to the end. Campsites are $30 per night, many of them first come, first serve.
Best map is Tom Harrison's "Sespe Wilderness Trail Map," which does show the sketchy trail to the top of Reyes Peak itself. I wear a large fanny pack with Clif bars, a sandwich, a tiny medical kit, sunscreen and three liters of water, and there is room to stuff in a rain-shell and other warm gear as the day and the trek heat up.