CARIZZO PLAIN NATIONAL MONUMENT
At sundown I set out for the Carrizo. By the time my tires hit the dirt road to Selby Campground, it's well after midnight.
I take in my new surroundings. Forest fire smoke hazes out the stars in the moonless sky. Sleep comes easily in the empty campground.
In the morning, the colors deepen then wash out over the arid landscape. Shots ring out from some nearby hunters. Far away a herd of tule elk flee. Rumbling through the plain with the windows and sunroof open, I feel that wonderful remoteness.
Southwestern California is one of the best places in the world to see cave paintings, also known as pictographs. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years ago, shamans went on spiritual vision quests in the caves of this region, recording their supernatural experiences on the sandstone.
A visit to a pictograph site can be a powerful experience, but they aren't easy to find. While many are located on public land, their locations are closely guarded secrets. But if you read the right research papers, page through old books, scour obscure blogs for photos, and stare at satellite imagery long enough, the clues start to pile up.
Several miles off the road, up a remote creek bed, I find what I'm looking for: A panel over fifty feet long, covered in bold red pictographs. Here and there the fragile sandstone has chipped off, but many of the designs are intact. I stare in awe at the massive, sacred wall.
The artistry is striking. Some designs are composed of recognizable animal forms, yet as a whole look completely alien. Mysterious motifs repeat, lines overlap. The pigment clings to wall for another day.
Light fades on the plain. I make my way back to camp. A few folks set up camp nearby; a woman on a long road trip with her dog, a group of retired friends traveling the country together.
Wind clears out the smoke as the crescent moon dips below the horizon. The stars come out to remind us of their multitude.
Daybreak finds me atop a steep hill near a dry lakebed. Falcons circle overhead. Nestled into a sandstone alcove on the ridge, I find another panel of pictographs. A four-legged creature, a bird, and several other faded designs overlook the plain.
Arriving at another sandstone outcrop, I wipe the sweat from my face. Even in November, Carrizo Plain can get into the nineties during the day. Fortunately, most of the pictographs here are tucked away in cool caves and alcoves.
I approach the first panel of paintings. My footsteps spook a barn owl that was nesting in the cliff above. She soars away, looking back at me with her big round face. I watch her fly off, then set to exploring the incredible collection of pictographs.
WIND WOLVES PRESERVE
I leave Carrizo Plain in the late afternoon and drive to Wind Wolves Preserve. This sweeping landscape on the brink of the San Joaquin valley was once home to the Chumash and Yokut people.
There are a handful of impressive pictograph sites at Wind Wolves Preserve, but in chatting with a park ranger, I learn that they're actually off-limits to the public.
My disappointment fades quickly once I set off to explore the vast park. A breathtaking landscape unfolds before me. Following a stream up the valley, I end up at a former village site of the indigenous people that once lived here.
Mortar holes dot the surrounding boulders. Tule elk graze in the distance. It's peacefully quiet.
Later, I drive west towards Santa Barbara. On the way I stop by a bar in the middle of nowhere, simply called "The Place". The only other patron is a middle-aged fellow named Mike. I sip my beer and listen as he recalls some gruesome bow-hunting story about a bad shot and a dull knife. The teenager behind the bar seems unfazed by the graphic details. She's heard this story before. He stares at his beer and shakes his head.
"I dunno, there's too much evil in the world. Somethin's gotta come and just wash it all out."
LOS PADRES NATIONAL FOREST
I camp in the mountains outside Santa Barbara and wake up early to visit Painted Cave, the most well-known Chumash pictograph site in the region. Due to its location in a residential neighborhood, Painted Cave has suffered from vandalism throughout the years. Still, it's an impressive site.
Sunbursts, rattlesnake patterns, and shaman figures adorn the walls. According to oral history, shamans journeyed to caves like this one and painted the spirit animals and psychedelic patterns they saw on their vision quests. They painted themselves, their torsos elongated and decorated in ritual garb. They painted the spirals and concentric circles that represent entrances to the supernatural world.
This shaman's cave was once feared and avoided by the local Chumash. Certain motifs on the wall are thought to represent ghosts. The centipede figure in the center of the paintings is a symbol of death.
Onwards, deep into Los Padres. The road narrows to a single lane and curves sharply up and down the mountains. Huge sandstone formations dot the rugged landscape.
I start my final hike of the trip, heading for the imposing ridge known as Hurricane Deck.
My plan is to take in the views from the top of Hurricane Deck, then head back down to search for Bear Paw Cave, a pictograph site famous for its numerous etchings of bear paws. Halfway up the ridge, something catches my eye through the bushes to the side of the trail. There's a metal register. I step off trail and open the rusted compartment.
"LOS PADRES NATIONAL FOREST - NEGUS CAVE - ROCK ART SITE - VISITOR REGISTER"
I've never heard of Negus Cave, but apparently I just found it. Sure enough, just up the slope from the register is a dark cave. I step in, careful not to turn up too much dust. There on the fire-blackened wall is an array of geometric designs in red, white, and black.
The trail takes me onwards up the ridge to the cliffs of Hurricane Deck. Wilderness stretches as far as the eye can see. I holler into the expanse.
Far below, a distinctive sandstone mound rises from the hillside; Bear Paw Cave is within sight.
There are actually several caves at the Bear Paw Cave site. The first cave has only a few faint pictographs, but one is particularly interesting. It's a large anthropomorphic figure that is almost entirely faded, but the left foot remains, filled in with yellow pigment. This is the first time I've ever seen any yellow pigment at a pictograph site, which is somewhat rare in California.
Close-up view of the yellow pigment.
Upon entering Bear Paw Cave, I notice a couple of bear paw etchings in a black patch of rock on the wall, as expected. But as I stare at the wall, more and more bear paws become visible. It's absolutely covered in them.
Gif highlighting bear paw etchings in red.
Crouching, I enter the opening of a third cave. A patch of clouds opens up to reveal the sun, now golden as it approaches the horizon. The cave is almost entirely in shadow at this hour, except for one beautiful patch of illumination.
There, glowing in the ethereal light, a red bullseye of concentric circles; a shaman's portal to the supernatural world.
Footnotes:
Rock art sites are sacred places. Please respect any rock art you encounter, do not touch, do not share unpublished locations, and leave no trace.