California Dreaming
Exploring the San Bernadino National Forest with the California Land Rover Club proves eventful
“It doesn’t rain much in the San Bernadino hills, but when it does the rain must be epic ”
We had been warned. Out here in the dry scrubland, high in the San Bernadino National Forest, there are lots of rattlesnakes. Having already crossed hundreds of miles of arid, semi-desert just like this, we stopped on the lonely stretch of two-lane blacktop that is Highway 62, just skirting north of the Joshua Tree National Park, to take pictures of the sunset.
Out here there seemed to be nothing, just sagebrush and roadside debris, some of which had been lying in this tinder-dry place for decades. As I stooped to examine a discarded steel beer can from the seventies, in the sand around it I found the signs – the serpentine trail of a small snake, winding away from me through the dust. Then, right next to it, tracks of a coyote, still fresh. As the sun died like an ember over the distant ridge and we took our pictures and then drove through the darkness to Twentynine Palms.
A day later, we were in the cafe at Lake Arrowhead, feasting on waffles in the company of the Southern California Land Rover Club. The trip had been rather hastily and generously arranged by Keanan Fleck and Garrett Bramblia, President and VicePresident respectively. They’d opted for the familiar stamping ground of the Willow Creek Trail – miles of trail sanctioned for off-road use by the San Bernadino National Forest. It’s one of many trails Californians can use, carefully mapped and graded by the Forest Service. It’s graded easy and the dry spell in spring seemed to promise a comfortable drive, though my family would be riding with the lead car, Sophie and I hopping out periodically to take a few photos before hitching a lift with the next Land Rover to pass by.
We left Lake Arrowhead heading north for the Pinnacle Trailhead, where off-roaders on two and four wheels have to gather at the Staging Area, and the Forest Service pick-ups inspect and issue the $5 daily Adventure Passes. Steadily, 20 of the club’s vehicles formed neat rows, and owners stood idly in
the sun, laughing and chatting, awaiting the day’s briefing from Keanan.
When the briefing came, it was welcoming but suitably short and pithy: in essence, to follow the group, to show respect for trail riders (and even for Jeeps!) and to have a great day out. Then we headed for the trailhead across the staging area, to be confronted with what some members called a gatekeeper – a precipitous drop which might discourage newbies from going where they would run out of talent.
It was a steep descent over boulders and a gulley – no problem for Keanan and his wellequipped Disco but a little unnerving for my wife, on her first off-road trip, who clung to every available handhold but bravely maintained conversation with Keanan’s son, Taric. I looked back at the following pack and wasn’t surprised to see that the unmodified LR3S and LR4S, Range Rovers and, indeed, the veteran Series IIA were all taking this in their stride.
What’s more, within 20 minutes, my wife had settled back and was smiling from ear to ear. It was going to be a good day.
The Willow Trail was proving to be the perfect choice for our mixed group. While some of the cars were in their comfort zone, with lift kits and big wheels to clear the wash-outs and rocks, the standard cars were often on three wheels. In a sense, they had the more technical driving to do, to avoid grounding, but the systems on the newer cars kicked in when needed and everyone got past each obstacle.
The gulleys were a sight to behold. It doesn’t rain much in the San Bernadino hills, but when it does, the rain must be epic. Everywhere we went, torrents had carved scars two or three feet deep in the lean soil, and exposed boulders and layers of rock. Keeping astride the washouts was essential for forward motion, the boulders providing a technical twist in the trail.
It’s interesting country up here. The western edge of the San Bernadino National Forest is just a few hundred feet above sea level, and justifies the Forest bit, being peppered with oaks, pinyon pines and juniper. But as you climb towards the centre of this 600,000 acre preserve, the big plants give way to smaller shrubs and plants, until you reach the chaparral and then pass into this semi-arid mountain country which rises to 11,000 feet. We’d reach 4000 feet during the day.
The fine dust kicked up by the Land Rovers swirled around and wormed its way into everything – including our cameras. Inside the cars, almost everyone was cosseted by pollen filters and air conditioning, but outside, though a bearably warm 23 degrees, the air was chokingly dry.
So, it’s a surprising place to find water. In fact, the San Bernadino National Forest is the watershed for many reservoirs which supply drought-fragile California, and streams which are usually buried feet beneath the rock bubble up and cross the trail every now and then. From signs along the trail, it’s clear that the streams which were mere trickles while we were there can, including the Willow Creek itself, thunder through and present a significant hazard.
This isn’t one of those days. It’s a greenlaner in essence, the Willow Trail snaking west to east and Keanan relaxed behind the wheel as we talk about his 2003 Disco 2. Like all bar one of the cars on the trip, it’s a V8: “What originally convinced me to buy a Discovery was an image I found somewhere deep in a Disco forum thread, of a girl dancing on the roof out in the wilderness [see above],” Keanan told me.
“The picture inspired me to get a set-up like that myself. I found the girl, eventually found the Disco, but I still haven’t made it to Baha...” The 124,000-mile-old Disco had surfaced in 2011, and has now covered an additional 120,000 miles, serviced by Keanan throughout. “The 4.6 D2 engine crapped out so I replaced it with a 4.6 Bosch unit from a P38. The transmission, transfer box and axles are all still original.”
The car has a three-inch lift kit and heavyduty steering linkage, home-made rock sliders and front bumper, and a Greg Davis rear bumper: “It has taken my wife and daughter up and down the west coast of the USA. It has been a good member of the family.”
As our big group clambered through the epic scenery, I hopped out of Keanan’s car and
“After the climb, the vista is fantastic, conjuring up scenes from a Western movie”
took a few snaps, before hitching a ride with Ramon Valencia, whose 2008 LR3 – a Discovery 3 to us – is the second he has owned: “My first was in 2003. I loved it but never had the chance to take it to its limits as it had many issues. So I bought a Toyota Sequoia,” he said.
Our group were soon assembling in a large area of level ground, Keanan suggesting it as an ideal place to get a shot of everyone, and all of the cars. Keanan and I drove to a high vantage point – the view of the cars wasn’t ideal, but when Keanan turned the key and the V8’s rumble died, the sense of emptiness was breathtaking.
Back on the trail, the heat and dust were getting more intense. My daughter – a talented photographer – was enjoying the assignment. She’d asked me what to photograph, and I told her it would become obvious. It was, and through a long lens, I could see her down the trail, snapping away merrily.
At around 1.00 pm, we assembled again as a group to have lunch, talk Land Rovers and to let everyone stretch their legs. I grabbed five minutes with Garrett, who had been our tail gunner in his heavily-modified 1998 Disco 1: “It was my daily until two years ago,” he said. Now, though, it’s got a four-inch lift, aftermarket suspension, Detroit lockers and 33.5 inch tyres.”
Keanan once more called everyone together for a pow-wow. Every driver had one of three choices: to exit the trail by heading east along Hooks Creek Road to Highway 173; to retrace their steps going west, or to follow him up a more difficult and potentially car-killing side trail, which would cut a wide loop but eventually take us back to the Pinnacles Staging Area.
The terrain planned would have been impossible in wet weather, but with very steep inclines, would still expose any weakness in the car, and would probably prove difficult without all-terrain tyres. A number of cars dropped out, some because they didn’t fancy the challenge, some just to quit while they were ahead. Keanan had hoped a manageable six cars would stay with us, and in the end ten were behind his car when he turned back down the trail.
The loop off the main trail we’ve taken starts as it means to go on, with a 40 degree gradient and a very deep gulley running down it, annoyingly cutting across the trail at times. All the cars pick a course straddling this gulley when possible, and crossing it with great care. After the climb, the vista is fantastic, conjuring up scenes from a Western movie.
Indeed, we’re looking across high country, which was first used by Cecil B Demille for Birth of a Nation in 1919, for the film Heidi, and latterly for the Ron Howard’s 2007 film Into The Wild ( get it; it’s brilliant). Many other movies have been partly shot here. We’re not too far from Hollywood, so we’re guessing lower cost may have been an attraction.
Up on the ridge, the cars see-saw wildly over boulders and wash-outs. It’s a meandering trail, taken at a snail’s pace, often with hazardous edges. Dean Mouren-laurens and his daughter Lisa are having a whale of a time, especially as this is Dean’s first trip with SCLR, and Lisa’s first-ever off-road trip.
I spot my own daughter along the trail, shooting pictures as Lisa gets a wheel airborne, and I’m with him in spirit. If ever there was an activity to bring families together, it’s off-roading.
For safety, the cars take it in turn to tackle a precipitous slope which starts with a massive gulley – cars start astride the gulley, then drop over the edge, HDC and other traction aids working overtime on the soft surface. The trail from here meanders over fairly level ground before climbing again, dropping over boulders and rocky ledges, and finally joining the Willow Trail back towards the Pinnacle Staging Area.
Back at the start, our group gets out of the cars for farewells and another stretch of the legs. We’re all a little more subdued now. I ask my daughter if she’s enjoyed herself: “It’s been absolutely amazing. But didn’t you hear what happened this morning?”
I vaguely remembered seeing her running and shouting at a distance now: “I was trying to get a better angle on a shot,” she said. “I stepped backwards on to an old tree stump. Straight away, I could feel something squidgy under my foot, then heard the rattle...”
How big was the snake, I ask: “I didn’t hang around to find out,” she says. She paused and stared thoughtfully along the line of vehicles, many sporting nothing more off-roady than all-terrain tyres.
Then she said something Dean had said, and which I’ve heard so many times before: “What’s the point of having a Land Rover in London? What a waste of a car. This is what they’re meant to do.”