If you roam around Southern California for any length of time (like, say, 28 years), you’re bound to collect your share of favorite spots and long-familiar places to return to as often as possible.
They might include the languid state parks of Malibu, the oak-studded winelands of Santa Ynez, the kelp forests of Catalina Island, the Kern River, Joshua Tree, the friend-of-a-friend’s villa in Montecito, the winding mountainscapes of Angeles National Forest, the sizzling grid of Palm Springs with its cool mid-century inns and hidden hill towns up the road, and so on.
But what about those not-yet-discovered spots still somehow hiding out there? Are there any bona fide “hidden gems” left in thoroughly charted SoCal?
Until meandering into the Cuyama Valley (aka the Hidden Valley of Enchantment) for the first time—and checking in to its revamped historic roadside resort, Cuyama Buckhorn, for an eye-opening weekend—I didn’t think so.
Concealed in plain view between California’s south-central basin and the coast, the Cuyama Valley — a sequestered expanse of high desert defined by lonely mountain ranges, sprawling farmlands, old ranches, hidden canyons and preserves, and some of the most non-attention-seeking locals in this half of the state—has made a lengthy habit of eluding detection over the last, oh, 9,000 years. The valley’s original Native American residents, the Cuyama Chumash, were here for most of that time until the Spanish padres pulled in—followed by a revolving cast of vaqueros, homesteaders, oilmen, farmers, and midcentury copywriters
