I was fortunate to have the opportunity to spend a recent summer night camping in the dunes. We set out by car in the evening and pulled over onto a dusty side road off Highway 1, easily missed by those just passing by. We parked next to a rusty old Ford truck, evidently a long-time neighbor of the dune lakes, and unloaded our gear.
Legendary dune photographer David Stroup joined us on the hike. Stroup has been visiting the dunes for decades, and handily carried his photography equipment down the mile-or-so-long dirt path to the lake.The path meanders its way through a stand of Eucalyptus trees. In January and February monarch butterflies come in droves to live in these trees, and it is around this time that the Land Conservancy holds its annual hike to Black Lake.
Through the trees I caught shimmering glimpses of the the lake. I was eager to see it in full—it had been a while since I'd visited my favorite place in Nipomo. The trail worked its way into the dunes. We walked up onto the ridge which runs along the south of the lake, and there it was.
Black Lake lies west of the mouth of Black Lake Canyon. It is likely that the same flood waters that carved out the canyon also formed the lake. One theory propounds that clay lenses and organic matter underneath the ground may help seal the lake bottom. Intrusion of the sand dunes captured the waters which once flowed unimpeded to the ocean, and a lake was born.
"There's a whole lot we don't know about this lake," says Herb Kandel, a Land Conservancy board trustee who arranged our special access and accompanied us on the trip. He would like to see more scientific study conducted in Black Lake.
The Land Conservancy owns the 160 acre parcel on which Black Lake sits. The rest of the dune lakes to the north are owned by Dune Lakes, Limited, a private hunting club. The Land Conservancy holds a conservation easement over these lakes, ensuring that they too will be protected.
As we walked along the ridge we saw a deer scramble into the dunes. We made our way to the top of a dune from where we could see the lake beneath us and the rest of the dunescape all around, the deer's tracks disappearing into the distance. Stroup noted that the dunes are always moving, likening their motion to the waves of the ocean.
The area around Black Lake, like many other sites in the dunes, was once inhabited by the indigenous Chumash people. Close to our campsite we stumbled (quite literally) across an old shell midden. We also found a gorgeous obsidian flake in the vicinity, likely a high quality trade item from a prize quarry. It is stunning to think that today we can gaze upon the same lake the Native Americans did under relatively similar conditions, away from most of the noise and bustle of modern life.
Towards twilight an Amtrak train rolled by on the tracks that run adjacent to Highway 1, easily visible from our campsite. Trains continued to roll by through the night and into the morning.
Nighttime is always spectacular in the dunes, but especially so at Black Lake. Though it wasn't too cold we gathered around a campfire. Drums were drummed, stories were storied. We talked about the old west, about our lives and concerns, about the lake and all the other special places around Nipomo. Black Lake has a way of bringing about a reflective mood in those who visit it.
We went to sleep that night in a wilderness, as one of my friends put it, in our own backyard.
I awoke to the improvised sounds of a Japanese Shakuhachi flute played by Kandel, and to the melodious chirping of birds all around me. There was also the roar from the engines of some early-rising ATV riders. How can they hear the chirping of the birds over the roar of their engines, I wondered.
After breakfast we descended to the lakeside, scrambling down the scrub (and poison oak) covered dune face. The wildflowers were blooming. Here a fish jumped out of the water. There a bird dived under.
Walking along the muddy bank we made a particularly notable discovery—a robust specimen of yellow pond lily (Nuphar luteum). This lily is a spectacular plant, certainly one of the most interesting I've ever encountered. It's broad leaves could cover your face, and all its shoots come from a pineapple-like rhizome, which stores energy for the plant. I will not attempt to describe the beauty of its yellow flower
After a few hours of exploring it was time to go. We donned our gear (significantly lighter now that we had drunk much of the water) and set out once more on the trail around the lake, sampling wild gooseberries along the way. I turned around and took one last look at the lake, bidding it a silent goodbye.
As I prepare to head off for UC Davis in the fall I wonder what will become of all the natural areas around Nipomo. Development in the middle of town is increasing. New houses continually pop up, and roads are being built or realigned to support our fledgling community.
Black Lake holds a special place in my heart. Fortunately, access to Black Lake is strictly limited—just ask the watchman who vigilantly guards the lakes, if you dare. Though I encourage everyone who has a chance to visit the lake to do so, I rest easier at night knowing that the lake will still be there in all its splendor when I am old.
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