Don Brown and I have been intrigued with the Desert Trail for some time, and in Febuary of 2002 , decided to start with Carrizo Gorge, the first segment of this adventure. The starting point was the small village of Jacumba, on the Mexican border about 74 miles east of San Diego and a few miles south of Interstate 8. It's largely a forgotten place, once know as a popular place for Hollywood celebrities now left to poorer, quiet inhabitants and the odd passers-by like ourselves following the Desert Trail. The most prominent place of business is the Jacumba Hot Springs Lodge, a badly worn but somehow inviting place to eat, drink and enjoy the heavily mineral laden waters for the soaking. The German owner of the Jacumba Hot Springs let us park my Jeep in the lot nearby. We had left Don's vehicle at Bow Willow Campground, less than an hours drive away, and 23 miles from Jacumba. To make our start official, we "touch the fence" that separates Mexico from the U.S. and began heading north. The weather was in the low 40's with gusty winds and the threat of rain as we eased out of Jacumba on foot at 9:45 am. The first few miles follow paved road, then skirted around some frontage terrain, some barbed wire fencing and quite a bit of vegetation before actually getting into the official boundary of Anzo Borrego State Park. Despite the GPS, the route finding is not intuitive as we made our way to the top rim overlooking Tule Canyon at mile 6.8 into our 23 mile hike back to Bow Willow Campground. Once you drop into Tule Canyon, leading directly into Carrizo Gorge, you're committed! The route down was very steep and tedious with large boulders and vegetation blocking the way. Once in Tule Canyon, the route cleanly leads to Carrizo Gorge and ultimately flows out to the desert floor.
When we were there, water was flowing in the gorge, which can vary greatly depending on season and recent rainfall. The terrain was very difficult and frustrating to cover in much of the gorge due to the combination of water and dense, barbed vegetation that we had to work around or over. The scenery is spectacular in the gorge and looking up to the steep edges of the gorge is very impressive. Along the way, there was much evidence of modern day travelers that came before us in the form of Mexican nationals, also heading north, looking for work. We never saw another person, although I wondered if we had, which group would have been more surprised. We made camp that night beside flowing desert water, at about mile 9.
The next day we enjoyed some breakfast and coffee and much improved weather overhead. As we continued down the gorge, we say old train tracks running precariously along the upper ridge. Some of the old train wheels and axles had tumbled down from the tracks above and landed at the gorge bottom. The date "June 8, 1893" was stamped on the inside of one of the large train wheels. The terrain was now getting much easier and we could see the narrow gorge walls opening up and the desert floor coming up to meet it.
We arrived at Bow Willow at 4:30 pm on the second day to Don's awaiting vehicle. We quickly discovered one slight problem, no car keys!!! After looking everywhere, we knew that dustydon had hopefully left them in the Jeep in Jacumba. We decided to look pitiful and wander around the campground to test the kindness of man in the form of asking a stranger to drive two bum-looking strangers with packs back around to Jacumba at night (bearing in mind nobody there had ever heard of Jacumba!). We finally found a somewhat intrigued young women who offered to drive us if we could squeeze into the small "crew-cab" space behind the seats of a small pickup. Her boyfriend would ride along , and off we went. We finally got to the Jeep at Jacumba and fortunately found the keys just where dusty have left them. The woman refused to take any money as we parted ways, and they headed back to the campground. We later returned to their campsite at Bow Willow and insisted they accept a six pack of beer, $20.00, and another "thank you" from two gratefull desert backpackers on their first section of the Desert Trail. By George "Grubstake" Huxtable, San Mateo, CA.
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