Conejo’s inconspicuous creekFree Access




ANCIENT BODY OF WATER—The Arroyo Conejo runs throughout Thousand Oaks. The stream provided water for early settlers in the area. RICHARD GILLARD/Acorn Newspapers

ANCIENT BODY OF WATER—The Arroyo Conejo runs throughout Thousand Oaks. The stream provided water for early settlers in the area. RICHARD GILLARD/Acorn Newspapers

The area surrounding the Thousand Oaks Civic Arts Plaza is one of the oldest inhabited parts of the Conejo Valley.

For more than 40 years, long before the construction of present-day City Hall in 1994, the site was the home of the Jungleland theme park. Before that, Stagecoach Inn and Museum docent Susan Robb said, it was the location of some of the first settlements in the area in the 1800s.

LACK OF ACCESS—Despite running the length of Thousand Oaks and beyond, the Arroyo Conejo is largely hidden from view. RICHARD GILLARD/Acorn Newspapers

LACK OF ACCESS—Despite running the length of Thousand Oaks and beyond, the Arroyo Conejo is largely hidden from view. RICHARD GILLARD/Acorn Newspapers

“Before that, it was inhabited by Chumash,” she said.

The reason for the area’s desirability: its proximity to water.

Before the State Water Project began importing the precious liquid from wetter regions in the north, a creek cutting through the semiarid valley was the primary source of fresh water for local inhabitants.

LOCAL TREASURE—The majestic Paradise Falls inside Wildwood Regional Park is fed by the Arroyo Conejo. The stream runs from North Ranch to the Santa Rosa Valley. Acornfile photo

LOCAL TREASURE—The majestic Paradise Falls inside Wildwood Regional Park is fed by the Arroyo Conejo. The stream runs from North Ranch to the Santa Rosa Valley. Acorn file photo

For most residents today, the Arroyo Conejo is an afterthought at best. Years of development have left the ancient creek mostly out of sight and out of mind.

The most visual representation of its impact may be Paradise Falls, the 40-foot waterfall in Wildwood Regional Park that is fed by the arroyo. Bill Bilodeau, a geology professor at Cal Lutheran University, said the north fork of the arroyo is the force that carved Wildwood Canyon out of the bedrock over many millennia.

NATURAL WATER FEATURE—The arroyo, shown in blue above, is part of the Calleguas Creek watershed, which drains an area of 343 square miles in southern Ventura County. The south fork begins in the Conejo Hills above Newbury Park. For a period, the streams runs directly along and below Thousand Oaks Boulevard.

NATURAL WATER FEATURE—The arroyo, shown in blue above, is part of the Calleguas Creek watershed, which drains an area of 343 square miles in southern Ventura County. The south fork begins in the Conejo Hills above Newbury Park. For a period, the streams runs directly along and below Thousand Oaks Boulevard.

Beginning near North Ranch and running to the Santa Rosa Valley, the stream is part of the Calleguas Creek watershed, which drains an area of 343 square miles in southern Ventura County. The south fork begins in the Conejo Hills above Newbury Park. The historically seasonal arroyo is perennial today because it is heavily supplemented by urban runoff from residential and commercial irrigation.

However unseen, the Arroyo Conejo has played a central role in the development of Thousand Oaks.

Running alongside Thousand Oaks Boulevard in storm control channels, the arroyo meanders roughly parallel to the busy street. In some spots, it runs next to the city’s namesake boulevard, while in other places the creek enters concrete culverts and runs underneath.

Dennis Carlson’s parents opened Carlson Building Materials on T.O. Boulevard in 1946. The 63-year-old T.O. native said the creek would rise during seasonal rains and, before the installation of culverts along the creek’s channel in the 1960s, regularly flood the boulevard.

“Everything drained down the center of town,” Carlson said.

Thousand Oaks native and Conejo Valley Days owner Frank Akrey said the arroyo was a constant source of recreation after rains. He said local kids would ride inner tubes down the storm-swollen creek, entering the water near the present-day site of Los Robles Golf Course and disembarking near where Lupe’s Mexican Restaurant used to stand.

“Thinking back, it was crazy,” Akrey said. “But it was our Danger Island.”

Robb’s husband, Wayne, also works as a docent at the

Stagecoach Inn. He was born in Thousand Oaks in 1948— back when Lang Ranch was still a working cattle ranch— and remembers playing in the creek as a kid.

“We played cowboys and Indians,” he said. “You could use your imagination.”

As Thousand Oaks grew along the boulevard, Wayne Robb said, the creek was channelized to make room for development.

“The first section they lined with telephone poles,” he said.

The creek is visible only in select spots along the boulevard now, but seen or unseen, the arroyo still runs its ancient course toward Hill Canyon between T.O. and Camarillo.

Past Hill Canyon, it meets with the Arroyo Santa Rosa and becomes Conejo Creek as it drains through the Pleasant Valley basin before entering the Pacific Ocean at Mugu Lagoon.

Jay Spurgin, Thousand Oaks public works director, said 99 percent of the city is served by state water. The city’s Hill Canyon Wastewater Treatment Facility treats Thousand Oaks’ wastewater and pumps it back into the watershed to be sold to Camrosa Water District for use by local farmers.

The city makes anywhere from $600,000 to $800,000 a year from selling water but, Spurgin said, most of the water sold is state water that’s been treated rather than water that originated in the arroyo.

David Snow, a landscape architect who lives in Thousand Oaks, said he’d like to see the city take advantage of the creek, which he sees as a valuable natural resource that’s become difficult for the public to access.

He said he knows turning the banks of the arroyo into a public amenity similar to San Antonio’s River Walk is a pie-in-the-sky dream, but he hopes Thousand Oaks could at least consider developing a trail for public use similar to the recently installed bike path along the Arroyo Simi in neighboring Simi Valley.

For now, though, because Thousand Oaks’ main creek is largely invisible from the street, its often litter-strewn banks have become a popular spot for homeless encampments. Snow said the creek deserves more attention.

“This is a jewel,” he said. “It’s a hidden creek.”