The main objective of the day was going to be a hike to Pine Mtn, a CC-listed peak in the southern part of the Santa Lucia Range, obscure by most any standard. I didn't make it there, obviously, but I had fun trying and the warm up peaks were pretty good in their own right.
I overslept at the Cone Peak TH, intending to rise at 6a but not waking until after 6:30a following more than ten hours sleep. Somehow I was expecting to need less sleep as I got older, but I'm not finding that to be the case. I was dressed, fed and on the trail in less than fifteen minutes. I was primarily interested in reaching Twin Peak which I had missed on a previous visit. Cone Peak would just be a bonus. Both peaks were on the list of the 15 highest summits in Ventana.
Following the directions I got from Robert Parks the night before, I hiked up
the 
Cone Peak Trail through the first series of switchbacks and then
the long traverse across the 
SW Face of Cone Peak. 
Sunrise
came around 7:15a, 
the sun fighting its way up through cloud layers
and never really making much of a presence most of the day. At the 
first
switchback following the traverse, it was easy to find the
use trail continuing NW along the face. Robert had
described it as hidden and hard to find, but it was fairly well-defined. This
use trail led the rest of the way across the face, to
the saddle between 
Cone and 
Twin
peaks, and from there to the summit. An hour after starting out, I was
already atop the summit, one of the easiest peaks I've had all summer.
The grassy top offered views in three directions, 
east to Cone Peak,
south along the coastline, and 
west to the ocean. The
north view into the Ventana
Wilderness was blocked by scraggly trees on that side. I found a
reference mark
but no benchmark, no register either. Having had such easy success, I decided
to continue on to Cone Peak. My first visit there had been in the fog, so at
least I would have a chance to see what the views look like. I retraced my route
back 
to the saddle,
and from there followed the ridgeline east towards Cone.
Along with some undulations taking me up and down several times, there was some
rock scrambling
as well to keep it interesting. On the way I came across a 
small gauge
of some sort, though to what purpose I couldn't tell. In fact it
may have only been the incomplete platform for a gauge not yet installed or
forgotten.
Somewhat unexpectedly I came across
a trail while only ten minutes along the
ridge from the saddle. This must be the Summit Trail that Robert had described
to me in the alternate route to Twin that I did a poor job of remembering.
Conveniently, the Summit Trail meets the Cone Peak Trail at
a junction only a
few minutes later, and from there it was less than ten minutes to the Cone
Peak summit.
The lookout
at the top is rather small and squat, boarded up and closed many
years ago. The views are much better than on Twin, unobstructed in all
directions (
W - 
N - 
E - 
S).
I found several 
benchmarks, but again no register. I took the
Cone Peak Trail in its entirety on the way back. It is certainly one of the
better trails in all Ventana for views. Only the
lowest portion of the trail
is hidden by 15-foot high chaparral on two sides, somewhat claustrophobicly.
When I returned to
the TH there was another car there and a couple with gear
spread out all over the place. It looked like a garage sale, of sorts.
They had just finished breakfast and were quick
to move their stuff away from my car so I could drive out. I didn't bother even
to take my boots off, simply tossing the pack in the car, a quick chat, and then
was off, leaving the semi-privacy of the TH to them.
The next stop on my tour heading south was Mt. Mars. Like Twin, there is no
regular trail to the summit, but several use trail that I conveniently found
online.
I had saved a coordinate and used this with my GPS to find the
unmarked gate just south of Salmon Creek along SR1. The
closest parking was well-signed as
No Trespassing and No Parking, the entrance to a group of homes on the west
side of the road. Just 
north of there I found a small turnout
that was more than adequate. By 10:20a I was heading up the road.
The "road" is an old 4x4 rancher's 
jeep track that hasn't been used
in a number of years. A stripe of 
matted grass
following up the roadbed makes for a decent
use trail. There is none of the usual dense chaparral on these lower slopes,
just steep, open grass hillsides. There are 
fine views
of the coast during most of this hike. The 
nice use trail
fades out in a 
flat area at an elevation of
1,300ft, a point indicated on the online map as a junction of several use
trails. Though I was looking for it carefully, I saw no evidence of another
use trail coming in from the north and the Salmon Creek Trail. I started up
the ridgeline shown on the map, quite steep initially but then becoming merely
steep in the ordinary sense. There was evidence of previous passage through the
grass here, but it was very thin and may well have simply been deer or other
animals.
Though not long - less than two miles from the start - the gain is more than
2,000ft and tiring. The last few hundred feet to the summit see the grass
slopes 
give way
to manzanita, dense trees, and thicker walls of chaparral.
Rather than trying to bull through dog-headedly, it pays to search around and
look for the easier ways through. I managed to find the
old trail cut through
the brush and though it was heavily overgrown, it was far easier to follow
the still-obvious tread than to do without. When I emerged at the other end of
this tunnel of sorts, I found a
yellow flagging marking the point of entry for
those heading downhill. It took exactly an hour to reach the summit.
Luckily, 
the top was partly bare and mostly covered in thigh-high
brush, leaving the views mostly open, though the cloudy weather and marine
layer conspired to make 
the views hazy at best. The best view was to
the south where the coastline
could be seen stretching for many miles. No benchmark, no register, no cairn
to be found at the 2,600-foot summit.
I decided to make a loop of it and started searching out one of the other
use trails shown in the online map. There was some bit of faith involved when
first leaving the summit as I saw almost no evidence of a trail. Shortly though,
after only a few minutes, I was able to discern a trail leading through the
tall brush on a ridgeline going southeast and then south off the summit. Some
parts of this route were 
open and easy, but most of it was
heavily overgrown.
Seeds, thorns, thistle, and leaves showered down on me as I pushed through the
stuff, much of it sticking to my clothes with special emphasis on my socks and
shoes. Though there wasn't much poison oak, there was enough that I would break
out around my ankles, just above the sock line, several days later. All part of
the price of fun.
Twenty minutes down from the summit I burst upon 
a clearing
and a freshly
plowed road - my ticket back down. I put away my leather gloves and spent a few
minutes removing as many of the pointy, sticky things from my socks as I could
before starting down again. The road follows down a canyon, switchbacking and
crossing a few dry creeks several times in the process. Most of the route
follows through the woods, dampening the views. Jogging helped speed up the
process, and thirty minutes later I had emerged back to the open,
lower hillsides and 
the gate
found at the start of the road.
Walking back along the highway I had time to view a number of the homes tucked
into the landscape, mostly on the ocean side of the highway. One in particular
caught my attention. There was 
a sign,
years old now and partially obscurred by
brush, indicating a landscape and building project that was going to be
harmoniously incorporated into the environment.
The reality was an eyesore,
rusted junk piled outside and a building either left incomplete or badly damaged
by fire. So much for harmony.
By 12:30p I was back 
at the car
and ready to tackle Pine Mtn. I continued south
on Highway 1, stopping only to check out the elephant seals
lazing about on their favorite 
California beach.
There were many cars and hundreds of
spectators there to watch the seals lie about the sandy beach, a very popular
attraction, it would seem. I eventually found the San Simeon Road and spent
half an hour driving east into the hills to the expected trailhead. Only there
was no trailhead. Instead, I found private property lining both sides of the
road for ten miles and a locked and
signed gate at the end of it, hiking
expressly forbidden. I briefly considered parking and doing the six mile one-way
hike anyway, but thought better of it. Judging by the number of signs, it seems
they took their privacy very seriously. And there were plenty of fresh tire
prints on the dirt road to indicate it was not so lightly-used as I could have
hoped. So I gave up on that one - I'll have to come up with a better plan for
a future attempt.
It was still early, but I was out of hiking options that I'd brought with me. I intended to spend the next day hiking in the Pinnacles, so drove back out to Highway 1, south to SR46, and then back over the hills to Paso Robles and US101. Soon after starting north on the freeway it began to sprinkle, eventually turning to rain, for more than an hour. Rats. Even if it cleared during the night, the brush would be soaked in the morning which meant I would get soaked as well. I decided to give it a day to dry out and continued driving back to San Jose. A day at home isn't such a bad thing really - especially if it's going to rain.