Blooming Oaks along Los Gatos Creek. Murrieta’s route, called La Vereda del Monte (The Mountain Trail), entered Coe Park at San Antonio Valley, where they rustled horses from Isabel Valley, holding them at Mustang Flat, then rounded Mustang Peak and headed south, past the Pinnacles and what is now Hollister There they would have followed the San Benito River up into the badlands. Much of the range crests over 4,000 ft in elevation and the peak at San Benito is 5,200. Joaquin Rocks, at the eastern edge of the range is where Murrieta had his hideout, complete with horse corrals. If you look at some of the maps I’ve posted, you can get an idea of how remote an area this is, even now. One thing that fascinates me about Murrieta is how well he must have known California. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mustang_Flat

There is a barn and a house beyond that, just out of view, and someone’s planted this pasture and I’m sure they don’t appreciate the trespass, but then I look out and take a deep breath and exhale. In the distance I can see the ridge. If I had any courage I’d just walk up this guy’s driveway and ask him if he knew of a road up to Joaquin Springs, or Horse Thief Trail, or Spanish Lake, or anywhere Joaquin might have rode his horse. He might even have a story to tell about how he came through one year, back in the early 1850’s, when his great great grandaddy first bought this same ranch I’m trespassing on. He came up from the fiestas at Lake Tulare they used to have by the lake every year, not around any more, the lake, not since the canal and the water rights and all those shenanigans, but he’d made a bundle from winning at the Monte tables and was throwing it around and looking for a good horse, so they got to talking, him and my great-great granddaddy – he was raising wild mustangs out here – and they got to talking about horses and what not and then Joaquin went out to the corral and threw a rope around one and it wasn’t but a little later in the afternoon he came back to the house and said he had his horse, never been rid before till that afternoon, or so the story goes, rode him out of here that very day.”

But I don’t have the courage, mainly because I don’t want to get bit by this guys dog, who is yapping in the distance at this moment encouraging me to vacate, and so I give a silent prayer to the four corners and head back to the car. I’m still on Los Gatos Creek Rd, still headed headed east, if I cant find a trail head, I’m going to turn around and head back up the grade till I do – La Vereda del Monte