May 20, 2012
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Impassive Resistance
In 1994 an enormous earthen dam was approved for construction in one of the most beautiful riparian canyons in this area. With it's perennial stream, it was home to a wide variety of wild life. There was an old dirt road that meandered up the canyon, winding through the cottonwoods and hugging the rocky canyon wall just above the high water line, perfect for moonlit night riding.
When the dam was proposed our small group of mountain bikers attended the community meetings to voice our fears about losing this beautiful trail. We were assured that, when the construction was completed, the canyon would again be accessible to cyclists. The dam was completed in 2000 but access to the canyon was never restored. But, recently we had heard from other cyclists, that they were now being allowed to ride up the face of the dam to access the undisturbed canyon above the dam. The dam is 512 feet high, the 12th highest in the world according to Wikipedia, and the road traverses the face of the dam only three times to attain the summit, so it is a wickedly steep climb on a bike. http://www.flickr.com/photos/melonman/273645356/
Sally and I were headed up our regular route, on the rocky, brushy singletrack trail to Crafton Hills, when we met two guys coming down the trail. I recognized one of them, a seventy-something retired orthopedic surgeon named Malcom. He said that they had just gone up the face of the dam, then climbed Warm Springs Canyon (which is such a miserably steep ascent that only the seriously masochistic will ride it) and were on their way home. He also said the wild flowers in Warm Springs Canyon were spectacular. Sally and I are suckers for wild flowers so we debated if we were up for all the climbing it would take to pedal up there. We decided that it was worth a try; we could always turn around if it got too strenuous.
We rode the the loop in the reverse direction which meant that while we had to climb the Morton Peak road, which is a wickedly steep climb too, we could descend Warm Springs. Aside from being nearly run off the road by some kid in a 4-wheel drive truck, who was driving way too fast around a blind curve, the ascent was uneventful. Descending Warm Springs fire road is probably one of the best E ticket rides around. Its steep, tight curves and erratic ruts make it challenging at any speed. Since we had come for the flowers, we kept our speed in check most of the time. As promised, the flowers were prolific, well worth the effort.
Once we reached the canyon floor, the road turned into a wide, well-graded access road that angled gently to the top of the dam. While we stopped on the side of the road for a snack, a small doe with two fawns at her side, came walking towards us from around a curve in the canyon wall. The wind was in our face so she couldn't smell us until she was fairly close.
We remounted and made our way across the top of the dam, noting that there were several people in the bottom of the canyon who appeared to be fishing. Descending the face of the dam is exciting only because of the great speed one can attain between the switchback turns. We were within sight of the gate at the mouth of the canyon when a small car, coming up canyon, pulled across our lane, blocking our exit. A uniformed guard opened the door and exited the car with as much haste as his ample girth would allow.
"You can't be in here!" he spluttered. Sally and I looked at him mildly and he continued. "You can't be in here!" he repeated as if that would make it so. Resisting the urge to point out that he was obviously mistaken as we were, indeed, "in here", we allowed him to tell us that this was private property and we couldn't be in here, yet again.
Since he didn't seem to be able to decide what to do, I finally asked, "So what do you propose?" Clearly, we were on our way out and he was preventing our exit, so the ball was in his court. He pulled a tattered envelope and a pen from his pocket and demanded our names. Unperturbed, we gave him first and last names, spelling the last names for him. Then after lecturing us on how we were NEVER to enter this area again, he ordered us to follow him to the gate where he would open the gate to let us out. I hadn't the heart to tell him that it wasn't necessary; we could easily lift our bikes over the barrier. He trailed us out to the main road and wished us a good day before turning back to his little fiefdom.
Thoroughly repentant, we crossed the road to another gated dirt road. Not noticing the conspicuous "No Trespassing" sign, we lifted our bikes over the gate and proceeded down past the huge borrow pits where the dirt for the dam was excavated. I guess they're not really "borrow" pits since the material was never returned.
Overall, it was a pretty good ride. We saw a gopher snake, a couple of huge lizards, a plethora of birds, three deer, AND had an amusing social interaction. I think I'll pass the word that the dam is again open to cyclists.
Comments (14)
Your descriptions are vivid. Hooray for petty bureaucrats and their surrogates. I suppose the reaction he wanted was whimpering guilt and shame.
It sounds like a wonderful ride -- did you take pictures?
@slmret - Since our intended ride was the same ole same ole, I had left my camera at home
Typical.
@we_deny_everything - Or perhaps he would have liked open hostility so he could have flexed his diminutive muscle. Other guards (yes, I've been thrown out before) have been less hostile but equally frustrated by their pointless mission.
If I had his job, my blog would have read something along the lines of "Granny Terrorist Dam Sabotage Thwarted by Vigilant Officer". "Two local women, on mountain bikes, were caught stealing out of the Seven Oaks Dam vicinity, carrying hydration packs capable of concealing plastic explosives. They were imprisoned and held without charges, in an undisclosed location, for further severe interrogation." The courageous officer was quoted as saying, "I could tell by the crows feet around their eyes that they had spent many years training in the desert with terrorist cells."
You crack me up! A shame about no camera; I usually don't carry a good camera while cycling but always do have my cell phone which has an "okay" camera. Your send-up on the guard's blog makes me think about the "Hank the Cow Dog" books/tapes. All the tales are told by Hank, head of "ranch security" who is always battling the coyotes, the buzzards, and that darn barn cat. He does slip up though and has a thing with a particularly attractive coyote named "Missy." We loved to play these tapes when the boys were young on our long drives in Texas,
You are a true rebel! hehe! I suppose he felt useful for a few minutes. Perhaps he will get some more opportunities to feel useful as word spreads! hehehe
Poor dude is just doing his job. You are the rebel. Damn if that dam isnt open to cyclists! Great read. Fantastic read. Amazing read. I need oxygen - that is the most exercise I have gotten from reading in a very long time!
An updated the little ol' lady from Pasedena, go granny, go green. Hahaha, you probably made the guard's day if not year.
@RakkaRay - There's nothing like recorded books for making a long, boring drive go by quickly, or any other mindless task.
@murisopsis - I call it "You're not the boss of me' syndrome. I've had it since I was a little kid.
@queenie - Rumor has it that you're getting plenty of exercise these days
@an_OM_aly - Can you imagine how boring his job must be?!
You are waaay too nice. I don't give my name to anybody until I would have gotten a full explanation of why it was private property and who owns it. Without clear sign postings at all accesses to the supposed private property, there is no violation of tresspass.
@zarnicki - I am skeptical about the "private" part, because while Edison has a facility in the canyon (and did have before the dam), I suspect the canyon is actually national forest land. That said, I believe that I am exempt from the "No Trespassing" edict posted at the gate on the fire road we use for access. Those signs are intended for people who leave trash, start fires, tear up the foliage, poop in streams, etc. I leave only a tire track and the sweet aroma of girl sweat.
Having fun being 'naughty'. I don't know how you (and Sally) make it up those steep climbs. Going downhill must make up for it! Good to hear you're still out there running round the Californian hills...
You got that right, sister! If it weren't for the downhill, I'd give it up altogether.
I don't know how I missed this tale until now! Good one!!
@babs430 - I think I get escorted out of there every couple of years or so. I can't understand why the guards always act so nonplussed to find us in there as it must happen frequently. Just about everyone I know has ridden through there at least once, of course, we don't always get caught. One time we rode silently past the guard shack where the guard was reading (or maybe sleeping).
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