HIDDEN VALLEY

NESTLED NORTH OF SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA, THE CUYUMA RIVER VALLEY LURES TRAVELERS WITH COOL LODGINGS, AN EMERGING ART SCENE, AND MAGNIFICENT SPRING WILDFLOWERS.

- WRITER RYAN BRADLEY PHOTOGRAPHER JESSICA SAMPLE

I must have been about 10 years old when I first glimpsed the Cuyama Valley.

My family and I were driving home from my aunt's place in Northern California when, about 2 hours north of Los Angeles, my father spontaneously decided to turn off the main highway. What I most vividly recall, almost three decades later, was realizing that I was suddenly somewhere quite different from anywhere I'd ever been.

There were windswept plains, beautiful and desolate, flanked by two mountain ranges—one deeply creased and barren, the other scrubby and oaky, golden and green. Very occasionally, we saw signs of human habitation along the two-lane road. It was as though we had stepped not merely back in time, but outside of it.

I have returned to this empty-seeming place over the years, most often to pitch a tent on the Carrizo Plain—one of the last remaining ancient grasslands in the United States. Carrizo is one valley over from Cuyama (pronounced CWEE-ah-ma), and both are famous for the explosion of spring wildflowers that, after a rainy winter, can turn into glorious “superblooms,” like some giddy god took a paintbrush to the land.

Flowers are the big draw here, although they’re fleeting, lasting only a few weeks in the spring. Rough camping on the plain can be a tough sell. Usually, when I drove out, I went alone.

Even when I was away from the place, I kept checking in on it, via message boards and wildflower hotlines. This was likely why my Instagram algorithm showed me the Cuyama Buckhorn, a recently updated motel in the town of New Cuyama. It looked charming, desert-chic, and much cozier than camping—the kind of place I might bring my wife and two young kids. So I did.