Sinkyone Wilderness State Park

ABOVE: The view from the Lost Coast Trail in Sinkyone Wilderness State Park. There’s something about the relentless rage of the surf, especially along the rugged coastline of Northern California. It’s the sweetest sound to fall asleep to in all the world.

ABOVE: The Lost Coast Trail in Sinkyone Wilderness State Park is a good place to disappear for a while. You’re unlikely to encounter much of anything besides herds of Roosevelt Elk. Keep your distance — they can be mean.

ABOVE: Anderson Camp, five miles or so from the trailhead, is the first real opportunity to pitch a tent. While there are no ocean views like some of the camps further up the trail, there’s an eerie solitude that rolls in along with the fog. 

ABOVE: The moon rises over Sinkyone Wilderness, one of the most remote areas in California and the United States. It is a land literally forsaken by humans, as plans to build Route 1 through this rough country had to be abandoned due to the severity and instability of the terrain. To find the spot you see here, you must drive a desolate, serpentine stretch of coastal highway with only a small town or two appearing out of the fog as you travel north. Then, if you can find the turnoff (it’s a tricky one), the next leg of the journey is six miles of sometimes washed-out and rutted gravel road up and down a mountain range. Here, you’ll find the trailhead, where you will depart on a trek that takes you a thousand feet up and a thousand feet down over and over again as you traverse steep, coastal terrain. After five miles or so — just a short hike into this wilderness, really — you’ll end up here, in a deep gulch with the forest rising hundreds of feet on each side, separated from civilization by several more gulches just like it. Though you won’t be able to see the ocean, you will hear the distant boom of waves intermixed with the rush of the creek below. Your back and legs will be tired, but soon the fog will glide in like a friendly ghost, the sun will dip into the dark and you’ll be alone with the gods in your very own Moonrise Kingdom.

ABOVE: Anderson Creek was my source of water and life in the backcountry. The rush of the stream, which was just down the hill from camp, was a lovely sound to fall asleep to, especially in symphony with waves booming in the distance.

ABOVE: Usal Beach is the southern terminus of the famous Lost Coast Trail. Here you’ll find a remote campground with most of the signage sporting bullet holes. A bit forgotten and forsaken, this rugged section of the LCT in Sinkyone Wilderness State Park is nowhere near as popular as the northern stretch through the King Range Conservation Area. But you can indeed hike all the way to Mattole Beach from here — a trek of about 52 miles. Just be warned that in addition to being a little overgrown and hard to follow in places, this section of trail is brutal on the body. You’ll be going a thousand feet up, then a thousand feet down over and over again for 22.1 miles. But the reward will be magnificent — blissful solitude along the most wild and remote section of California’s great coast.

ABOVE: A lonely fishing boat chugs through the vibrant seas off Mendocino’s Lost Coast, as seen from Sinkyone Wilderness State Park. I suspect there were quite a few more boats dotting the water in the days before the fish stocks took a dive. The color of the ocean here is something that will stay with me forever. Often when I’m stressed, I close my eyes and try to imagine it, along with the crashing waves and the cool breeze rushing through the redwoods.

ABOVE: A California poppy, the state flower, blooms along the Lost Coast Trail.

ABOVE: Fog begins to roll in and work its way up Anderson Gulch. It can occur on the Lost Coast anytime of year — especially in the summer.