Mattole to Sea Lion Gulch

We wake early and get on the road by 6:00 am. According to Google, our trip from the East Bay to Black Sands Beach will take anywhere from 4 to 6 hours. We target the Brick House coffee shop in Willits as our first stop, but almost miss it. A new freeway bypass opened last November, so the highway no longer goes through town. We double back for our coffee and breakfast sandwiches.

Our next stop is the King Range ranger station, where we inquire about water and tides. Early in the hike, near Punta Gorda, we will experience our first impassable, a no-go area during high tide. Hearing we will not be on the trail until about 3:30 pm, the ranger checks his tide table and recommends we NOT attempt it tonight. We are confused. His table shows high tide being much earlier than the 5:53 pm ours shows. I had printed ours the day before, from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) website. I assume they know something about lunar cycles.

Black Sands Beach

We head down to Black Sands Beach in plenty of time for our 1:30 shuttle. We meet a couple from Georgia who have just completed the hike. They are taking the shuttle back to their car.  The woman reports no problem with ticks, but minor problems with poison oak, and proceeds to show me the rash. She advises that wherever there is adequate space along the shore, there is probably a trail to avoid the exhausting sand. I imagine wherever there is a trail, there is probably that irritating poison oak, but perhaps I am just being rash.

The driver arrives early, and since everyone expected is accounted for, we get on the road by 1:15 pm. Along the way we hear history and gossip of the Lost Coast area. It includes repeated commentary about the poor condition of the roads and how Eureka takes all the tax dollars. We learn which pot farmers are successful and which ones have gone bust. We also learn that the guys selling top soil to pot farmers are actually making way more money than anyone, including the loggers. I silently wonder if fertilizer is a viable business opportunity, of if perhaps our driver already has that ground covered.

We are on the trail by 3:15 pm and start plodding through the sand. We stop to watch vultures enjoying not-exactly-fresh pulled-seal, and to rest our alive but painfully burning muscles​. The difference in strain on our bodies, of walking in loose versus well packed sand, is amazing.

Punta Gorda Lighthouse

We cruise through what seems like a tight squeeze, but really is not. We are surprised to round a corner and see the Punta Gorda lighthouse. We have apparently passed the ranger’s impassable point, without really noticing. A couple with their dog, returning from the lighthouse, warn us of swarms of ticks on the trail, and recommend we stay on the beach. They did not, however, warn us of the massive bachelor herd of Elephant Seals snorting and flipping sand on themselves. We choose Lyme disease over being mauled by rejected and frustrated bulls. We make a wide berth, and end up on a trail that climbs and hugs the cliffs.

Elephant Seals

We eventually make our way to Sea Lion Gulch, which is fairly packed with other backpackers heading in our same direction. They must have gotten an early jump on the trail, as we have not seen them during our hike.

We find an adequate, if not completely tilted, rocky perch, and pitch our tents. We make rice and three different Indian curries. We fall asleep to the sounds of breaking waves and barking sea mammals.

Tomorrow we face a full day of beach walking.

View from Sea Lion Gulch

There is a portion of the northern Californian coast so rugged that the famous California Highway One admits defeat, and goes around it. This isolated area, known as the Lost Coast, offers a spectacular 24.6 mile backpacking adventure through the King Range National Conservation Area. The sandy, rocky route clings to the tiny space between the Pacific Ocean and the steeply uplifted North American Plate. Several sections of the Lost Coast Trail (LCT) are so crammed against the cliff that they disappear twice a day, victims of the rising tides. Getting through these 4 mile stretches requires tide tables, but do not read them with your back to the sea, lest a sleeper wave takes you off to permanent slumber.

The Lost Coast Trail can be navigated northwest or southeast. Most hikers, however, choose southeast, hoping to have the prevailing winds at their back. Unless you are willing to do an out and back, the greatest logistical challenge seems to be getting back to your car. The drive between the two main trailheads (Mattole and Black Sands Beach) takes approximately 2 hours. You can drop your car at one end, hike to the other, and hope to hitch-hike back to your car. The remoteness of the roads makes this option a bit dicey. With two cars, you can drop one at each end. However, after the hike, going back to get your other car could cost you close to 3.5 hours.  I have also heard some clever people break into two groups, hike in the opposite direction, and exchange car keys midway through.

The most popular option, though costly, is to hire a transport shuttle. You can drop your car at Shelter Cove, take a park approved pre-paid shuttle to Mattole Trailhead, and walk the Lost Coast Trail back to your car. This is the option we have selected.

Rules have changed, and you can no longer get a walk-up permit. We got our backcountry permit through recreation.gov, for $10. Although you do NOT have to camp in designated sites, most backpackers congregate near the many freshwater streams seeping from the Kings Range. For the permit, you do need to identify which camping zone you expect to be in each night, though I am not sure how strictly this is enforced. During permitting, you may be surprised by a couple of rules. Each person must carry a bear canister. Since this costal area is so remote, black bears frequent the shoreline, scavenging. The most surprising rule, however, is that you must bury your human waste in the intertidal zone (wet sand area). Most of us are used to burying human waste 200 yards from water, but here, you practically have to be waist deep when depositing your waste. We certainly hope the remoteness means few people will have to bare witness.

Tomorrow morning three of us will drive from the Bay Area, in hopes of catching our 1:30 pm shuttle from Black Sands Beach to Mattole Trailhead.