I did an overnight backpacking trip to the fabled hot springs as a way of testing my body and gear for restarting my PCT Desert Section hikes after abundant late-Summer rains in SoCal, but I didn’t camp at the springs (to avoid crowds) and I didn’t go in the water, or get naked, so don’t expect a salacious report.
I left San Diego in the wee hours and made it through LA without traffic, then continued up into the San Bernardino Mountains near Lake Arrowhead. I drove north on Highway 173 to the closed gate and parked my car at the trailhead. According to Open Street Map, the trail down to the springs is called the Bradford Ridge Path. Sure, why not? Deep Creek Hot Springs is truly in the middle of nowhere, and has three main trails to reach it. This one is the shortest and closest to San Diego. I put on my backpack from the car and headed north. And it turned out that the trail was quite pleasant, following along a canyon and crossing a ridge, heading toward the deep valley where Deep Creek resides. It isn’t the water that’s deep. It’s the canyon.
Across the way, I saw the other, more popular trail heading down a ridgeline. I wasn’t sure why it was more popular, as it starts further from LA, and the rancher at the top charges people to park on his land at the trailhead. I found out why soon enough. Free parking wasn’t enough to make up for the extremely steep descent I had to make in order to get down off Bradford Ridge to the Pacific Crest Trail at the creek. It was steep, and it didn’t have the greatest traction either. I stopped at the top to get out my hiking stick for extra support and balance, and it was a good decision. But nothing went wrong. I just took my time, and chose my route carefully. I was carrying twenty five pounds on my back, so caution was warranted.
The PCT at the bottom, however, was perfect, as usual. Truly it was a joy to hike along Deep Creek, and I was looking forward to doing it again soon, provided my aching plantar fasciitis had gone far enough into remission. That heel pain was the reason why I stopped thru-hiking the PCT last May. I had a lot of fun doing other things later on, in the Summer, but I still wanted to finish the Desert Section (the first 650 miles) of the trail this year. Maybe today’s trip would give me the impetus I needed to get hiking again.
It didn’t take long before I came upon the heated water source of Deep Creek Hot Springs. It came directly out of the ground at the base of a granite cliff, just below the PCT itself. The nice part about it was that it wasn’t stinking of sulfur, like so many volcanic springs. It was simply steaming hot water, and it fed about five different pools along its path to the colder waters of Deep Creek itself.
Hot Springs being rare and wonderful gifts, it wasn’t surprising that people in the distant past had channeled this water in various ways to serve their purposes. The five hot pools each had their own temperature, which was kind of interesting. The walls enclosing them were built with cemented river stones, and the base of the pools were the original granite bedrock of the valley. Quite simple, really. And very picturesque.
I arrived early on a Friday morning in October, so I didn’t expect to see many people, but there were a few. Lots more would be arriving tonight, and even more on Saturday, no doubt. I’m not much of a party animal these days (if I ever was one) and the thought of camping with so many true party animals, especially drunken ones, was too much for me. I had no idea if they would be rowdy, of course. The last time I came we arrived on the Monday of Memorial Day weekend, and everyone seemed quite mellow. Now that is a fact, not merely idle speculation about wild parties. Nudists were known to frequent this Hot Spring, and, as I wasn’t a “naturist” myself, I wasn’t sure how well I would fit in with the crowd. And it is always poor form to arrive overdressed to a party, after all.
After talking to the locals for a bit, and taking a break to enjoy the Hot Springs, I put my big backpack on and headed south, upstream, looking for a good camping spot. Sorry to dash and run, but I had another party to get to. A party of one.
While checking the map at home, planning this trip, I saw that there was a short side trail leading down to the creek about a half mile upstream, just around the corner from the springs. This seemed like a likely place to camp in peace. Plus, if I was lucky, I’d be able to see if I could catch a trout in the creek. Deep Creek was one of the very few streams in Southern California known to have a native trout population.
I found a great spot in the sandy bed of Deep Creek, pretty much right where I expected to find one. The shady tree above it was a bonus. I put up the tent and lay down inside it with my book. I woke up super early, and this was a great time for a pre-lunch nap. I was here, my gear survived, and my feet felt fine. I had nothing whatsoever to do until tomorrow. I should have been more ambitious in my planning. But, then again, maybe not. It was a fine day.
I eventually got moving. It was time to explore the streambed, which I had never really done, as the PCT mostly remains high up above it, safely removed from damaging Spring flooding. And there had been a lot this year, in 2023 after the record snows. I knew that I was sleeping on fresh, newly deposited sand, and I liked it that way. I got out my Tenkara fly rod and rigged up a line and barbless fly. Then I set out downstream toward those nice pools I saw on the way in. I fished and fished, but never got a bite, and never saw a fish of any kind. I was sad about this, but what could I do? Maybe they lived in another part of the creek, one that didn’t get so hot in Summer. Someday I might try it again, but at a higher elevation, and under shady pine trees.
There were a few patches of Poison Oak down there, with the leaves turning purple for Autumn. I avoided them, but there were other spots, both up and down stream, that made continued exploration difficult, whether due to thick brush or gigantic boulders. So I headed back to the campsite. During the afternoon, the sun shifted and the tent was exposed to full sun for an hour or two. That’s when I read my book under an overhanging tree in the shade. Later, the high walls of the valley blocked the sun, and I got my tent ready for the evening.
I purified some drinking water from the creek and made myself a hot ramen dinner. I sat in the tent on my air mattress and ate it. Ahhh. Life was good on Deep Creek. I also decided to go to bed early, and wake up extra-early once again, in order to avoid the nasty LA traffic, which was bad every day, even on weekends. I typically drive through there at night, preferably in the morning before dawn, and never in the evening. So I set my alarm and went to sleep before sunset.
Naturally, I woke up before my alarm even went off. But I didn’t care. This meant that I would be hiking in the dark, too. I normally try to hike in the daytime so that I can take pictures. Darkness isn’t very photogenic. But I really wanted to get back home. If my feet still felt good then I had a lot of planning to do, in order to get back on the PCT again. I had two hundred miles or so left to hike in the Desert Section, through all three SoCal mountain ranges. This time I didn’t bother cooking any oatmeal. I just ate my lunchtime Pop Tart immediately, then packed up all my gear. I put on my backpack and set my headlamp to medium brightness. I was night hiking! And it was good.
It seemed like it took almost no time to reach the car, even though it was more than an hour. I arrived just at first light, and headed south through the mountains toward the freeway. The sun came up soon afterward, and then I was blasting home on a nearly empty road.
All in all, it had been a short but worthwhile trip. No, I didn’t get naked and lounge around in the Hot Springs like a Bohemian Poet, but I did get to test out not only my gear, but also myself. I was ready to get back on the PCT!
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
hikingtales.com 