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“He may be just a tramp, a guy that likes to roam about this great country without any special aim, just to thank the Lord for these beautiful mountains.”
-B. Traven, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre
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“. . .here, where there are still the silences and the loneliness of the earth before man, . . .”
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- Lobster Poachers?
- The Day Hell Hit Santa Barbara; Third Hottest Temperature Ever Recorded on Earth
- About
- Lower Lion Canyon, Sierra Madre Mountains
- Beachcombing for Fossilized Whale Bones in Santa Barbara County
- Return To Scene Of Lion Standoff
- Waterfalls of Ventura County
- Fossil Falls, A Glacial Relic of the Pleistocene
- Dick Smith on Forest Access
- Ticks, Lizards and Lyme Disease
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Latest Dispatches
- Lobster Poachers?
- Dick Smith on Forest Access
- Old Mission Sycamore Whacked Again
- Bald Eagle, Manzana Creek, San Rafael Wilderness
- When Rains Fall, Will USFS Close Our Forest? The Coming El Niño
- Language of Forest Closure; Assault on an Ancient Right
- March of the Mustard; The Spread of Noxious Weeds
- Mark of Conquest II: Benchmark and Mortar
- Save Old Mission Sycamore … __ __ __ …
- Raking the Forest: Anderson, Trump, Kuyper
- Initials of J.D. Reyes (1907)
- Last California Grizzlies Seen In Santa Barbara National Forest? (1926)
- Eccentric Artifact, San Marcos Foothills Preserve
- Fog Drip Morels
- Naming Santa Barbara’s Modoc Road
Lunar Phase
Author Archives: Jack Elliott
Waterfalls, Trout and Indian Mortars
We loaded our rig and hit the super slab up to the Sierra for three nights of car camping April 30-May 3. There were few people and the weather was perfect. I forgot at camp on Sunday my go-to adventure … Continue reading
Dick Smith Calling a Condor, Piru 1970
Dick Smith Calling a Condor, Piru 1970, a photo by brad.schram on Flickr. Via Flickr: With Lake Piru visible below, a California Condor barely visible above, Dick waves and shouts to draw the bird’s attention. The condor ultimately came directly … Continue reading
A World Away
Sprawled across a gritty sandstone boulder lodged several miles up the canyon, I lie overlooking the south-facing littoral plain far below, the day’s heat seeping into my bones, a cold beer can sweating close at hand. The stream gurgles through … Continue reading
