Natural Nipomo: The Nipomo Mesa

On a recent Sunday morning I decided to take a bicycle tour of the Nipomo Mesa.

The Nipomo Mesa is a massive sand dune, stretching from the shore side dunes in the west to the Nipomo Creek in the east, from Los Berros Creek in the north to the Santa Maria River Valley in the south. At some points the sand is 300 feet thick with alluvial deposits and layers of clay interspersed.

I set off towards the Mesa's edge, heading towards Guadalupe. After a quick descent I was at the base, looking up at the massive sand formation towering more than one hundred feet above me.

The Santa Maria River once flowed along the southern border of the Nipomo Mesa, carving the impressive bluffs on the south face. Riding along the base of the Mesa I could see the the eucalyptus trees emerging from the grassy sides of the mesa. At the top houses skirted the edge, practically sticking their tongues out at the forces that shaped the Mesa.

I rode back up the Mesa, and then on to the high bluffs where I could catch the view. After climbing to the top I stopped. The Santa Maria Valley stretched on before me all the way to the Point Sal Range. To my left the city of Santa Maria sprawled into the distance. Beyond that I could see the imposing peaks of the mountains of the Los Padres National Forest. To my right was the ocean, shrouded this day by a low-lying fog. The dunes followed the line of the shore, marking the end of the earth which man can tame.

When I visit a place I often wonder what it used to look like, before it was graded for construction or sewn for the harvest. Humans have had a profound impact on the environment, but without knowing what the land to look like it can be hard to visualize.

At the Nipomo Native Garden it takes little imagination to see what the Mesa used to look like. Volunteers have worked on this park at the intersection of Osage and Camino Caballo for years, planting native plants, building benches and clearing trails. Now the park features restored natural habitat representing many of the communities which once dominated the Nipomo Mesa: coastal sage scrub, manzanita, oak woodland, chaparral, grassland and wetland. Visit the Nipomo Native Garden website, aptly located at www.nipomonativegarden.org, for information on native plant species that grow there.

I took a stop in the garden, sitting down to read some of the literature that is often left in boxes there. While engrossed in a piece of Native American poetry discussing the life cycle of oak trees, I heard a familiar barking and yelping approaching me.

Bill Deneen was there, along with his two very vocal dogs. I got to talking with him about what Nipomo used to look like. “When I moved here in 1962,” Deneen told me, “what you see [in the Native Garden] was all over the place. I couldn't figure out why they had a park in the middle of nowhere,” he continued, referring to the Regional Park which was once surrounded by undeveloped land. “What you see here was all over there,” indicating one recent development, “and all over there,” indicating another.

After Deneen left I walked my bike to the back part of the gardens, where a trail with more of those hand-painted “Don't Litter” signs runs through and old growth oak woodland. This is a fun little trail—I could hear the cars zipping by on Pomeroy, unaware of the special little place they were passing in such a hurry.

Here there is a particular oak tree, gloriously ancient, which has been dedicated to Bill Deneen. A plaque at its base proclaims the dedication, with an additional quote from Henry Thoreau: “I went into the woods because I wished to live deliberately.”

Birds chirped all around me, the midday sun shone brokenly upon my face, the sounds of the cars faded as I succumbed to nature's embrace. I knew this is how Nipomo should be. This is how it was.