by jeremy russell

The Lost Coast

THE PROTAGONIST IN Alex Garland's novel The Beach travels all the way to a secret little island near Thailand to find some remnant of unspoiled wilderness. He might have found what he was looking for much closer to home – and saved himself a lot of trouble.

San Franciscans, for example, need go no farther than Mendocino County, where, for approximately 80 miles of mountainous, uninhabited seaside, the spectacular Lost Coast hides its fog-shrouded, dew-dappled redwood groves from the harsh fluorescent lights of modernity. Crowned by King Peak's 4,087-foot summit, the already spectacular California coastline here offers up its most glorious contribution to natural splendor. In fact, it's so improbably beautiful that it mirrors Kauai's famous Nepali Coast.

Preserved in one form or another since 1929, the Lost Coast now encompasses the King Range National Conservation Area and Sinkyone Wilderness State Park. These back-to-back government reserves offer an unrivaled visit to the world as it was before the encroachment of civilization.

The Lost Coast features three days' worth of backpacking – 64 miles – on the California Coastal Trail, a hike that takes you from backwoods beaches and fern-filled valleys up to rocky overlooks that weave in and out of the redwoods. Here the coastal highlands offer one fantastical vista after another. And because the animals on the Lost Coast have probably never known hunting and show no innate fear of humans, the region is especially astounding when it comes to wildlife.

On my last trip, my father and I had no sooner established our meager outpost when three majestically sized buck elk, fitted with the kind of enormous antlers you'd be impressed to see on display at the Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History, came tramping into our campsite to nibble at whatever scrubby weeds were growing around us. They spent the next three hours within 20 feet of us, resting in the pebbles and trail dust until the sun had descended into the Pacific and the fog had reduced terra from firma to incognita. Even in the misty darkness, we could hear the animals outside our tent, making their way up the ivy-covered hillside.

As well as elk, the forests are filled with birds, insects, and an abundance of little mammals. One morning I was strolling across a misty hillside and, while pushing some overgrowth aside, nearly stepped on a small huddled thing whose form was at first unclear. A mushroom? Dung? Eventually I realized the inchoate mass of gray fuzz was in fact a young rabbit, frozen in the trail at my feet in a shivering ball of floppy fur.

The docility of the animals can indeed be traced to the fact that there are so few visitors. However, a major reason for this lack of foot traffic is, not surprisingly, that the Lost Coast is actually kind of hard to find. Coming from San Francisco, the easiest way to access it is via the southernmost entry, which leads to the one and only car camping site on the Lost Coast, Usal Beach.

The instructions on my Wilderness Press map of the Sinkyone Wilderness State Park directed us to follow Highway 1 three miles north of Rockport, then turn northwest onto Mendocino County Road 431, then continue for six miles on unpaved road to Usal Campground. Unfortunately, you can't actually see the town of Rockport from Highway 1. There's just a small sign with an arrow on the eastern side of the road, and Road 431 is unmarked. Luckily, my father managed to note that the turnoff is 12.8 miles north of the Westport Inn – i.e., use your odometer. The northern entrance to the Sinkyone Wilderness State Park is off 101, and although I haven't tested them out, the instructions on the map are even more complicated.

Another thing to keep in mind is that the Lost Coast is rough country and requires preparation. Although the fall can be a good time to visit, with summer fog retreating to sea and winter rainfall not yet arrived, the roads are unpaved at either entrance and may be impassable in wet weather. Also, once you're there, you're far beyond the range of normal cell phones.

So visit the Lost Coast, but don't get lost yourself. Although day hikes are not out of the question, this is no easy-access weekend trip; rather, it's a rugged backpackers' paradise, whose few domesticated locations feature only the humblest amenities. During one venture my resting area consisted of a flat spot, a fire ring, and a roofless outhouse. Some urban readers may wonder how I made myself comfortable or, for that matter, why I would seek this out, but true back-country packers will understand why it was more than enough.

If you go

Do your research Visit the California State Parks Web site for the Sinkyone Wilderness at www.parks.ca.gov/default.asp?page_id=429. Visit King Range National Conservation Area online at www.ca.blm.gov/arcata/king_range.html.

Buy a map Wilderness Press sells an excellent map called "Trails of the Lost Coast" for $9.95 (www.wildernesspress.com/book179.htm). Use it.

Get involved The California State Parks governance is preparing a General Plan for the park. Public comment on the plan, which will define a long-term vision for the park, identify desired improvements, and provide guidelines for protecting its unique natural assets, closed in August and the final version should be available this winter.