• Date: March 10, 2024

• 41.16 Miles

• 3,696 Feet of Gain

• Thousand Trails Oakzanita Springs to Agua Caliente Campground

The night was expectedly cold and well below freezing.  Morning revealed a coating of thick frost over bikes and shelter.  We packed up and enjoyed the well-heated bathrooms before pushing off down the road to enter Cuyamaca Rancho State Park.  Janna and I joined some singletrack paralleling the road as the sun hit the peaks warming everything.  We turned right on East Mesa Fire Road to begin an ascent next to Descanso Creek towards the Cleveland National Forest.  The hillsides were sage and olive green with dense groves of live oak and manzanita sprawling across them all.  I felt alive and refreshed being out in the backcountry on a spring day in southern California.  The dirt road wrapped and wound under hanging eaves of branches and into open spreads of open chaparral before finally gaining the ridgeline next to Oakzanita Peak.  Here, the terrain softened into beautiful doubletrack that sped across the highland.  Jeffrey Pines grew singularly on high along the route.  

The Stagecoach 400 joined singletrack in a thicket of woods near Granite Springs.  I was humming my excitement as we pedaled across swaths of grasslands sprung from the woods.  The sky was blue and clear while the singletrack was smooth and rolling.  The track soon crossed the USFS boundary and became rugged, rocky, and eroded.  We resorted to hike-a-biking in the woods.  It was slow-going but we knew we had a short day and some big descents ahead.  San Diego County had been hammered by some recent winter storms making water sources plentiful along this section.  The trail joined with Pine Mountain Road which crossed a flowing creek on its upward track towards the ridgeline of the Laguna Mountains.  We settled in for bouts of HAB up the often steep, rocky, and woody dirt road.  The expansive views of the woody chaparral landscape were simultaneously gorgeous.  

Then, we spilled out onto the pavement of the Sunrise Highway.  And it was cold.  We donned a bunch of layers and decided to lean our bikes against the guardrails to eat snacks before heading continuing along the highway.  Eating was coupled with conversation about riding along this same stretch of the Sunrise HWY two years ago when we were heading north on the Sierra Cascades route in June (and it was hot then!).  It was so interesting to be back here along this same crest of mountain with the precipice of spring just crossed.  We felt comfortably relaxed, but also noted the need to get going lest we miss making the Agua Caliente General Store before it closed at 4 pm this afternoon.  Neither Janna nor I am overly-huge fans of rocky singletrack riding (especially due to my mountain bike accident years ago that collapsed my lungs), so we opted to ride the side of the highway instead of taking the official Stagecoach 400 route that jumped on bumpy narrow trail directly adjacent to the smooth pavement.  We had also ridden this highway before and knew it to be fun to fly down.  All the trees up here were barren and winter-bound, but staring down into the depths of the desert heart, we could see vibrant green beckoning.  We pedaled along the shoulder and officially passed into Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.  I loved it.

As mid-afternoon approached, the road led to a turnoff on dirt singletrack we had to take.  The Stagecoach 400 took the Pedro Fages Trail/CA Riding and Hiking Trail.  We were approaching the descent down Oriflamme Canyon.  Notorious/famous on the route as a seriously rocky and technical descent, I excitedly felt my chest swell at the chance to ride it.  Janna and I joked to each other that as Arizonans we had a pretty good idea of how bad "rocky" could be for a road.  We played that it would either live up to the hype or be seriously un-southwestern in its ruggedness.  The singletrack took us across a grassy field before jutting into junipers and turning a corner revealing a crumpled peakscape of desert below.  We heard some people ahead; it turned out to be two mountain bikers doing a day ride in the area.  One of them (Chris) ran down from his lunch spot to excitedly talk to us about the Stagecoach 400.  It turns out he was scouting the conditions and planned on racing the route during the Grand Depart in two weeks.  He built some stoke about the wild conditions ahead and urged us on.  Janna and I turned another corner and let loose down some rocky road cut into the hillside.  

The plants began to immediately change from the montane to arid chaparral.  The dirt became sandy.  The greenery was enlivened from winter's dormancy.  I could see the road entering a pocket of valley ahead as strewn rocks picked up, but it was nothing too bad in our opinion.  That was until we turned another corner and entered the funnel top of Oriflamme.  The road quickly deteriorated into all the hype this section properly deserved.  I slowed making sure not to take anything too quick or risky (especially since my pelvis was months into recovery after fracturing in the fall).  And it was steep - truly.  I crawled and walked my way carefully down most of the insane (to me) switchbacks and boulders.  Janna, remarkably, sent it all pretty cleanly.  There was one particular turn I came around where I watched her descend an incredibly inclined section of chunk that I promised myself to never ride.  I was slow and she sped ahead.  But man was it beautiful.  I loved the sudden splurge of desert rock and warmth that wrapped around us as only a canyon descent can.  The whole thing was enjoyably thrilling.  I eventually caught Janna at another switchback, and she laughed at my assessment of her downhill skills.  

Both of us felt giddy as the dirt road became doubletrack but remained just as rocky.  We rounded another corner coming down Oriflamme and suddenly saw a bright-orange, absolutely brand new, Jeep completely high-topped on a rock.  A couple were busily attempting to dig it out using only a stick and a garden trowel (I kid you not).  We stopped and asked if they needed any help.  The two seemed confused by us being out here and initially claimed they were all good.  We persisted with questions, and they finally said they needed help.  We were still miles from pavement on a super technical primitive road, so it may have been some time before someone with a vehicle came to this spot; Janna and I told them we were heading to Agua Caliente Springs and would let a ranger know about their situation when we got there.  

Janna and I rode about a mile further when I saw a large snake crossing the road.  I was immediately enthralled and recognized it as one I've desperately wanted to see over the years: a rosy boa - one of the only constrictors native to the United States.  I jumped off my bike and excitedly starting snapping pictures as it laid basking in the sun in the middle of the road.  Pumped from the encounter, we headed back on-route and started towards the paved highway (but not first without some seriously sandy sections - a taste of what was to come).  We hit pavement and started racing as fast as our legs could sustainably carry us towards Agua Caliente County Park.  The General Store there was due to close by 4 PM and it was currently 3.  We had about 10 miles to go with relatively flat surface all the way there.  

I tucked in and barreled forward across the desert.  The drive to arrive prior to closing was a force of adrenaline upon my legs - we didn't have food to get us through tomorrow otherwise.  The miles spun by quickly and we arrived at the store at precisely 3:58 pm.  We hurried off the bikes, propped them, but the door was locked and lights were off.  Janna grabbed the giant bull bell nearby and gave it a swing; the loud gong brought the shop owner from around back who happily opened the store to let us bikepackers grab some food.  We thanked him so much as we packed our food purchases away and then sat out front in the afternoon shade of the building overhang to drink some cold drinks and eat some frozen paletas.  Fed and relaxed, Janna and I made our way to the ranger check-in.  The ranger on duty immediately asked if we were riding the Stagecoach 400 and expressed her desire to do so in the future; that really pumped us up. We made our way to our campsite.  The afternoon was just perfectly beautiful and chill as we sat and ate more snacks.  Other campers kept making their way over to our site to talk to us, asking us questions about the route and expressing their excitement for us.  

I suddenly remembered that we needed to report the high-topped couple back up Oriflamme Canyon.  Two rangers came over and we gave them the details.  As Agua Caliente was its own park division separate from Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, they needed to telephone the other park to go check on the couple.  After that, evening came in with a gentle breeze and mauve skies sinking beneath the walls of the desert amphitheater around us.  The ranger station at the front had excellent AT&T reception so we walked there to go text our families.  Standing in the dark near the front, we saw there was a weather report whiteboard on the side of the building for visitors.  I glanced at it, and my eyebrows raised.  "Santa Ana Winds" was plastered on every day for the next four days, starting tomorrow.  Tomorrow predicted 35 mph winds and 50 mph gusts.  The day-after stated 45-50 mph winds with 60 mph gusts…serving as a headwind both days in the direction we were going to be traveling most of the time.  I had only heard the term "Santa Ana Winds" used once before by a another cyclist - and learned the winds could be terrible.  The currents are regional and "sweep down from the deserts and across coastal Southern California."  They are no joke.  Dismayed by the possibility, we steeled our nerves and agreed we would make it together before turning in for the night.