I started today lying in bed at the "Motel-9" in Maricopa, barely able to move after yesterday's gigantic 32-mile hike-&-bike up Big Pine Mountain in Santa Barbara County. And this was a day after we hiked and biked 16 miles to bag Caliente Peak in San Luis Obispo County. Eventually I would transfer my sore bones into my trusty truck for the day's drive up north to the Bay Area, planning to stay a couple days with my sister in San Francisco.

The usual route from Southern California to the Bay Area is Interstate-5, which is a straight shot from the Los Angeles area to just south of Sacramento where the various highways split to the various destinations. However, they forgot the scenery. This 250-mile stretch of Interstate-5 is arguably the dullest, most tedious highway on the planet. I have driven on Interstate-5 numerous times over the years and really didn't want to do it again, so today I would be taking a different route: state highway CA-33, which runs parallel to Interstate-5 about 15 miles to the west along the base of the hills that you would see looking west off of the interstate.

I left Maricopa, a small oil-town of about 900 residents, and went north, immediately next into Taft, a slightly-larger community, another oil-town and also as home to one of the state's prisons. This area is rain-shadow desert. The coastal ranges draw out any moisture of the clouds that roll off the ocean, and the result is a stretch of land about 20 miles wide, just east and parallel to the ranges, that is true desert. I enjoyed the drive, mainly because traffic was nonexistent, and it seemed I had the road to myself. I passed through the towns of Derby Acres, Avenal and eventually into Coalinga. All farming and ranching towns, and also prison towns, too. In Coalinga the highway works its way back toward Interstate-5 near a huge cattle feed-lot, where the sulphuric scent of the oil fields is replaced by the pervasive stench of cow poop. Seasoned travelers know to hold their nose here for about five miles. In any case, a short ways north along the Interstate and I exited at the Little Panoche Road exit, heading west through Mercey Hot Springs into the hilly hinterlands of San Benito County.

San Benito County is a fairly remote county, despite its proximity (on the maps) to the Bay Area. Most of the county is within the grassy hills and mountains of the coastal ranges. Just a small stretch along US-101 in Hollister (the county seat) would be the only reason most people would pass through this county. Not surprisngly, the bulk of the county is the domain of some of the largest private ranches in the state. My objective was its highpoint, the eponymous San Benito Mountain, which has a rather impressive elevation of 5,241 feet (especially when you see if from I-5, you're at about 500 feet elevation). In fact, San Benito Mountain is the highpoint of the sprawling Diablo Mountains which stretch north past the Oakland area.

I stayed on Little Panoche Road about 20 miles, up and down numerous hills and passes, to where it descended into a broad valley, coming to a T-junction with Panoche Road (County Road J-1). I went left (east) shortly to a Y-junction, now on New Idria Road. The sign mentioned 22 more miles to New Idria, an old mining town tucked into the hills. The road is paved but in horrible shape; the county seemed to abandon it it years ago. Much of it was torn up and full of chunky asphalt debris. It took awhile to get into New Idria. It was probably a bit after noon.

New Idria was once home to one of the world's largest quicksilver (mercury) mines, but the mine closed in 1972 and the town essentially became a ghost town. However, it is not entirely deserted: a couple of homes are clearly kept up and inhabited. Some places had vehicles parked in front that looked like they still ran. I saw a couple people off in the distance. Numerous "protect your gun rights" signs were planted in odd places along the highway. One place had two small fenced-in areas of about 10 feet square, each inhabited by a dog. They must not get out much; one spent his entire time leaping against the mesh; I had to wonder if it simply went insane cooped up in the tiny enclosure. The whole place looked scary as hell. I drove through "town" and eventually found myself on the main dirt road that leads up into the mountains. The area is popular with off-road and ATVs, so the roads receive some attention. The quality of the road wasn't the best, but as long as I stayed slow, I was fine.

From New Idria it was another 7.5 miles along the main road into the Clear Creek Wilderness to a junction with a side road that leads to the summit. Given my soreness, I was not up for a long hike, but I didn't want to drive to the top either, so I parked at this junction and walked the 600 vertical feet to the top, taking a bit over a mile each way. At the top the summit is full of radio towers, but the true natural tippy-top is in a jumble of rocks nearby, which I scampered up to tag. I spent a few minutes inspecting the top, took in some views, but then got moving down not too much later.

I drove back down the dirt road into New Idria once again, slowly passed through town, and bumped my way out New Idria Road to where it re-met with Panoche Road (J-1). This road is in fine shape and I proceeded west toward Hollister, the drive meandering through hilly rangeland which was very pretty. My truck was low on gas (I was slightly concerned I'd run out somewhere back there near New Idria) so I gassed up, then drove some more into San Hosey where I scored the last room at a Motel-6 for the evening. The next day, I'd make my way into San Francisco, with a side trip to attempt Long Ridge in San Mateo County (in which I didn't succeed), and later in the day, a visit to Mount Davidson in the city (and county) of San Francisco, then visit my sister in town.