"Peak Experience" Four

These "Peak Experience" posts have been about a recent little road trip.


I the "Peak Experience" post just before this one I had parted from my niece and was, more or less, headed toward California Hot Springs.


Sulfur pond and pool near Atascatero is one of thousands of place we have to get into hot water at the favor of the oil industry. Members of our greatest industry go options for exploratory drilling all over California, The United States, North America and the world. Many of these exploratory drillings struck no oil, but did hit hot water. Now, many of those drilling sites are providing hot water bathing. Some of them have become comfortable spas.


California Hot Springs is not one of these 'gifts' from the oil industry. It is a natural hot water spring in the higher foothills of the Sierra. California Hot Springs is somewhat unusual as a hot springs. Most hot springs are more highly mineralized than cold springs. The water of California Hot Springs, however, seems to spring form the granite distilled or purer than high mountain snow melt.My problem was that I had forgotten just where in the foothills the Springs were located. I fact, I could not even see the foothills.


The word I did not remember was Sequoia. At one time I had confused Sequoia with Yosemite as I had Confused N.Y. with California. I did believe that the Springs were between Bakersfield and the entrance to Yosemite.


For perhaps four or five hours I crisscrossed back and forth, up and down in the smog of the Valley without catching a glimpse of the Great Sierra Nevada mountain range or the considerable Coastal Range. I time I came to a sign with an arrow pointing toward Yosemite. We must live in gratitude. I drove in the direction that arrow pointed and in time came within sight of what proved to be the lower reaches of the Sierra.


I had stopped to ask for directions to ask for California Hot Springs. Many seem to recall hearing the name, but did not recall its place. I had received conflicting directions. I stopped to ask again. It was a lonesome gas station within sight of the hills. Everyone there spoke Spanish as a first language except for the station manager, who spoke no known language.

Still More "Peak Experience"

Number One Niece, knowing that I like to get into hot water, took me to a place, close to Atascadero, called Sulfur Pond. The bouquet of sulfur was scarcely notable. Upon arrival I promptly noted, come would say complained about, the loudly amplified music. My niece promptly took me home, fed me, and put me to bed. I did find time to have the owner turn down the amplification and have him tell me some interesting things about the geology and hydrology of his spa.

I feel the spa would be worth another visit. The pond is stocked with catchable, cookable, eatable fish. The waters of the adjoining pool have some fame for curing or alleviating certain skin problems. The facilities are modest, but there is place to change and there is shade. It was one of those places that you can bring a chest of cold beer to drink without hassle, within reasonable limits.

There is a web site for Sulfur Pond, but I haven't located it yet. If you know a web-site that seems right, please put it in "Comments."


Being a Sulfur Pond reminded me of another place I had gotten into hot water. In my imagination it was one of those place built before the war with a kind of frontier gentry in mind.

The place I was reminded of was California Hot Springs. I Knew it was in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada somewhere south of Yosemite. My niece pointed me toward the Central Valley of California and I followed her directions. The Central Valley, for those who don't know it, is one of those great, fantastically fertile and productive agricultural areas sometimes referred to as bread-baskets of the world. The valley runs north and south(and visa versa). It is bordered on its east by the Sierra and on its west by The Coastal Range. Much of it was quite beautiful, but now its air has been fouled.

My niece's directions got me to the valley, but there, I promptly got lost. I was lost in the middle of the valley for many hours and many miles. The air was so foul that I could see neither the Sierra Nevada nor the Coastal Range nor locate the sun very well.

I'm usually pretty good at getting unlost, but I have limitations which have improved little with age. For example, for some of my early years I confused New York with California (and visa versa).
Perhaps my confusion was due to their both being similarly illustrious and both being contingent to ocean.