I had my doubts about the Sweetwater Reservoir Trail but ... I was pleasantly surprised. I had a lot of fun out there. I saw some unusual things, met some super people, rode some nice trails (and some not so great), and took in some spectacular views on a perfect day.

Click Sweet for a larger map. Click the back-button to return here.

I really had wanted to ride in our local mountains (east of San Diego) to train for my trip to the high country of Arizona. The only problem ... it had snowed up there this past week and had yet to melt. The average snowfall for those mountains is ZERO, yet we have had 3 or 4 feet of snow this year. Cindy said it is because of La Niña ... or was it El Niño ... or was it Cumulus Nimbus?

Anyway ... I decided I would try the Sweetwater Reservoir ride as described in my San Diego Mountain Bike Guide. Finding the trailhead was a little harder than it should have been.

Trailhead is on the left in campground.

Driving there I ended up on the CA-125 south (Toll road) and it cost me $3. (I give better directions on my San Diego page). I parked next to the playground and tried to find the trail. My guidebook said to just enter the trail across the street. It took me a long time to realize the trail starts to the right after you pass the guard gate to enter the campground. There is no sign on the paved road, but there is one back in behind the green fence on the right.

Trail skirts the fence around the lake.

The guidebook says to stay on the trail that skirts a fence ... that surrounds Sweetwater Reservoir. I rode this on a beautiful Sunday afternoon and saw no horses on the trail ... the trail was kind of rough due to horse prints in the mud ... but no horses did I see!

About 1 mile around I came to a kiosk. It was very informative. My guidebook, written in 1998, said the Fish and Game Department had not decided whether riders were allowed to go all the way to Rancho San Diego. The kiosk confirmed that I could. The kiosk also warned me (like all kiosks) about the dangers of rattlesnakes, mountain lions, poisonous plants, wild packs of rabid coyotes, and other similarly dangerous possibilities.

Nice place...view of the lake!

After climbing a steep, zigzagging hill, the trail levels off and I crossed a side creek. Immediately I spotted a dilapidated concrete block building on the right ... sort of hidden behind some trees and the tallest mustard plants on earth. I parked my bike and hiked (25 yards) to get a closer look.

I think it must have been some kind of farmhouse. The picture windows faced the reservoir but all I could see was mustard! There also were some almost dead citrus trees and cactus. Later in the day I realized there was a small reservoir, just above the house, that still held water.

Cactus Hill Lookout

With my socks filled with stickers I rode/walked up the next half-mile of trail ... which brought me upon 3 lady hikers and a shaded lookout structure, 2.4 miles into the ride. Two of the girls were just sitting on the bench enjoying the wonderful view of the lake. The other was taking all kinds of pictures with 2 different cameras. We could see the ocean and Coronado Islands which lay a few miles off-shore. I took my fair share of photos and wished them a good day.

Riding too fast?

There were two different trails leaving the structure ... I decided to take the one that ... follows Sweetwater Reservoir. I wound my way down into the next ravine and around the base of the next hill, where I came across a burned-up mountain bike, mounted on the fence. Someone obviously had been riding too fast and caught fire!

Nightshade? Don't eat it!

When the trail flattened I noticed a man bending over taking a picture of a flower. "What kind is that?" I asked. He told me some official name ... then said it was related to the tomato plant ... and was extremely poisonous. I took my own picture and told him I was going to quiz my wife and see if she knew what it was. After a brief chat about his hiking of the area for 27 years, I headed further around to the end of the lake ... trying to remember the name of the flower he had just shared ... old-timers!! It seems like I can't remember anything anymore (later, after looking at the photo, Cindy thought it might have been a flower called a Nightshade).

Next, I came to a pass-through gate and turned right onto a well groomed dirt road. This road paralleled the lake as it gradually turned into a river, the Sweetwater River. I was suddenly amused by the irony that this river starts 25 miles away in the Cuyamaca Mountains ... right where I had hoped to ride that day but was snowed out.

Otay's bridge for pipe

While dodging mud puddles I suddenly caught a glimpse of an old rusted looking bridge up river. I stopped several times to take pictures. It had spools of razor wire protecting the entrances. I also noticed a 1-foot diameter pipe running along the left side. My brother George (who retired from Otay Water District) told me this pipe was to ship reclaimed water from their sewage treatment plant (in Rancho San Diego) to fields on Otay Mesa. He told me one of their employees had to inspect the total length of this pipe ... riding a quad (motorcycle) from the treatment plant ... across the bridge... and down to Otay Mesa then ride all the way back ... every day!

I was just getting ready to leave the "pipe" bridge when a fellow mountain biker came booking-it up to me and stopped. He asked me if I had lost a remote control. I checked in my pouch and ... sure enough, it was not there. I told him, "yes." He said, "what brand is it?" For that instant, my "oldtimers" disease kicked in again! I couldn't remember. I told him it was about 1" x 2" and flat, and totally black. He said, "yeah, but what brand is it?"

Wood Bridge Over Sweetwater River

I started to get irritated at that point. Who else was riding around out here with a video camera mounted on their helmet? I pointed to the camera and finally remembered ... "KODAK!" He handed it to me and sprinted off on his bike as if late for an appointment. I yelled thanks to his back as he quickly vanished from the scene.

I followed the biker's route up a fairly large hill, then dropped down to see a nice wooden walking-bridge which spanned the Sweetwater River. I crossed that bridge and rode up a fine dirt road which dumped me out in Rancho San Diego, a small city. This was where Highway 94 turned to cross the Sweetwater River (over a modern concrete bridge) on its way to Jamul.

Old Sweetwater Bridge built in 1920

Sidling up to the newer concrete structure is the Old Sweetwater Bridge ... a beautifully constructed erector-set project with lots of triangles. A sign said it had been in use since 1920. What used to be the only bridge for Highway 94 is now only used for walking (and riding bikes!!) I love to show my math students the geometry these old bridges display.

Digging for snakes?

On the south side of the bridge there were several pop-up canopies and signs for some kind of a "Refuge" party. I had to do some tricky maneuvering to dodge dozens of "refugees" on the trail. Right past this point I ran across a hiker with a big beautiful dog. As I tried to guess the breed, the dog caught a scent and started to dig. As we watched, his owner said this was the last weekend he could bring the dog out here. He told me it was due to the rattlesnakes coming out of hibernation. He did not want his beautiful dog to get bit. I left when the dog quit ... half-way to China.

Space Module?

Watch OUT!!

The ride back was similar to the ride out except I took to the hills instead of following the shoreline of Sweetwater Reservoir. I also came across another viewing structure and a weather station. These were interesting but ... not as stimulating as hearing the rattlesnake!

I was cruising along the fence which borders the building near the end of this ride when I heard the buzzing I have come to recognize as a rattlesnake. I skidded to a stop wanting to get a picture. The snake was on the other side of the fence but heading the same way I was. I couldn't get over how small his head was compared to the body. I took several pictures before he eased his way into an oleander bush on the other side of a driveway.

A few hundred yards past the snake and I was back to the truck. I left some trails un-ridden. I'll return to Sweetwater Reservoir another day.

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