Canyon liveforever (Dudleya cymosa) along the Rim Trail between Mt. Wilson and Newcomb Pass.
From the Misplaced on Mt. Wilson run a couple of weeks ago.by
It was a warm day by San Francisco standards — sunny and in the seventies. We’d planned to go “across the bridge” for today’s run, but with the great weather it seemed half the city’s residents and visitors were queued up on the streets leading to the Golden Gate Bridge. We opted for a run in the city instead.
This was not an inferior alternative. Running in the city is fun; there are many options and much to see. Today’s course took us from Industrial Light & Magic, to Mountain Lake, Land’s End, Sutro Heights, Ocean Beach and Golden Gate Park.by
I’d just finished an 18 mile loop from the top of Mt. Wilson and was changing my shoes, when I noticed a group of six hikers walking down the Mt. Wilson loop road toward me. I’d started my run before the Mt. Wilson gate was open and was parked in a turnout near the top of the Kenyon Devore Trail.
The run over to Newcomb Pass, down to Chantry Flat, and then back up to Wilson had gone well. If you don’t mind a little Poodle-dog bush and a lot of poison oak, the Rim Trail is one of the hidden gems of the San Gabriels. And the Gabrielino Trail’s excursion through the forests and along the creeks of Big Santa Anita Canyon is a classic.
When the group reached me, one of them asked,”We’re looking for the Winter Trail, do you know where that is?” I did know where the Upper Winter Creek Trail was, because I’d just been at the top of it about 45 minutes earlier.
With its maze of antennae, telescopes and other facilities, it’s not uncommon for hikers and runners unfamiliar with the top of Wilson to become temporarily misplaced. The trails are, of course, on maps — including Google Maps — and described in various online and offline resources.
In this case the hikers didn’t know where they had parked and they didn’t know the route that had taken up the mountain. If you don’t have a clue where you need to go, a map isn’t very useful.
When I described where they needed to go, there were groans all around.
It was midday, the weather was good, it wasn’t hot, they had water and a phone, they would be hiking mostly downhill, and there were plenty of other hikers on the trail. Unless they did something really stoopid, it was just going to be a long day.by
From Gone with the Wind to the bridge scene of Mission Impossible III, there have been some big productions on Lasky Mesa. I’ve seen TV shows, commercials, music videos, photo shoots, and even an online game being filmed on Lasky Mesa. But as I ran past the complex of canopies and tents on the grassland site, I never would have guessed that this time the production was a fashion show.
It was not only a fashion show, but a runway show by the French fashion house Dior, introducing their “Cruise 2018” collection. Given the dry-golden-grass character of Lasky Mesa in May, I jokingly wondered if the designs were all going to be in tones of beige, tan and brown. Not quite, but from a photographer’s perspective of color and texture Lasky Mesa appears to have been a surprisingly complementary location for the event.by
Paintbrush (Castilleja affinis) and golden yarrow (Eriophyllum confertiflorum) along the Old Boney Trail, Pt. Mugu State Park.by
I was covered with bright yellow mustard petals and soaked from head to toe. It had been raining, and I’d just wrestled my way through another tangle of 10 foot high mustard plants. On some parts of the Old Boney Trail the mustard was so thick it was almost impenetrable. The pestilent species becomes especially prolific in wet years, growing rapidly and overwhelming native species and habitats.
After turning onto the Serrano Valley Trail and climbing up to the overlook of Serrano Valley the trail wasn’t quite so overgrown — at least I could run. In the grasslands below the greens of the rainy season were gone, replaced with the straw-colored hues of dried grass gone to seed.
Like mustard, foxtails are bad this year. In recent weeks I’ve picked a multitude of the barbed grass seeds from my socks and shoes. Today, I’d worn ankle gaiters hoping to ward off the expected seed-storm in Serrano Valley. The seed-storm turned out to be more of a seed-shower, but the gaiters did help.
Part way through Serrano Valley I happened on a hiker, coming up from Serrano Canyon. We said hi to each other and then after he passed, he turned around and dramatically exclaimed “Don’t go down Serrano Canyon!!”
What?? Were there ogres down there? He’d obviously made it through the canyon OK. All limbs were intact and I didn’t see any cuts or bruises. I quickly ran through the possibilities and rejected most of them. One possibility that seemed plausible was that the trail had been washed out.
One of the reasons I was doing this run was to see how Serrano Canyon had fared during the February 17 atmospheric river event. I’d seen the damage caused by high flows in Blue Canyon and Upper Sycamore Canyon. This was the first chance I’d had to investigate Serrano Canyon since the flooding, so the hiker’s warning had the opposite of its intended effect — it just made me more curious about what was going on in the canyon.
All the way down the canyon I kept an eye out for X-Files monstrosities, but saw none. Serrano Canyon did not appear to have had as severe flooding as Blue Canyon and Upper Sycamore Canyon. Some sections of the trail were very overgrown and a short section of the trail was partially washed away, but with care and a bit of mustard-whacking the trail was passable.
I’d had my fill of mustard and was happy to reach the dirt road in Big Sycamore Canyon. I returned up canyon using a combination of Big Sycamore Canyon Road and the Two Foxes Trail. This was much more straightforward than Old Boney and it took only about an hour to reach the Upper Sycamore Trail.
The work done on the Upper Sycamore Trail by the Santa Monica Mountains Trail Council during Trail Days was impressive. Several sections of the trail were washed away by the February 17 atmospheric river event and all have been restored.by
From Sunday’s Bulldog Loop in Malibu Creek State Park.by
The two highest peaks in the front range of the San Gabriels, Strawberry Peak (6164′) and San Gabriel Peak (6161′) are about three miles apart as the raven flies and about 6 miles apart by trail. If you don’t mind running/hiking a third of a mile on Mt. Wilson Road, you can do both of them from Red Box as a 12 mile run/hike with a total gain of about 3000′.
Earlier this morning, I’d done San Gabriel Peak. It’s the shorter of the two ascents — from Red Box it’s about 2.4 miles to the summit. While the elevation gain is nearly the same as climbing Strawberry, it is a less strenuous and more straightforward peak. Except for a short stint on the service road below Mt. Disappointment, the grade of the San Gabriel Peak Trail is relatively constant — and the trail goes all the way to the summit.
The route up Strawberry Peak is distinctly different. The initial 2.5 miles follows the Strawberry Peak Trail to Lawlor Saddle, gaining a moderate 500′ along the way. From there a steep, rough and sometimes rocky use trail ascends 950′ in a little over a mile to Strawberry’s summit.
That’s where I was now — nearly at the end of that brutal mile-long climb. My heart was racing and my legs felt like Jello. Reaching the crest of Strawberry’s final false summit, I jogged across the shoulder of the peak and on uncooperative legs climbed the final few feet to the summit.
To the southeast, San Gabriel Peak and Mt. Disappointment stood across the canyon and further to the east, indistinct in the morning haze was snow-capped Mt. Baldy. To the west, the view extended past Josephine Peak and Mt. Lukins to the San Fernando Valley, Santa Monica Mountains and Santa Susana Mountains.
Recovery from the devastating 2009 Station Fire continues on both peaks. The amount, extent and size of Poodle-dog bush (Eriodictyon parryi) in the burn area is slowly diminishing. Some plants have died, but there are still viable plants of which to be wary. These plants were on the San Gabriel Peak Trail, above the notch, on the final climb to the summit of the peak. I don’t recall seeing any Poodle-dog bush on the ascent of Strawberry from Red Box, but it is still present on the west side of the peak.by
The two hikers stopped on one side of the broad chute and I stopped on the other. We were on the Pacific Crest Trail about a half-mile from Little Jimmy Campground and had paused to put on micro spikes before crossing the icy slope. It was the same chute that had been so unnerving for a couple hiking down from Little Jimmy on a chilly morning two weeks before.
After the hikers crossed we chatted for a moment about the snow. They were doing the PCT and I asked them what gear they used on Fuller Ridge — an infamous section of the trail on Mt. San Jacinto. They said they’d used micro spikes and ice axes. The segment had gone well, but at one point it had taken them four hours to do two miles!
It’s not often there’s this much snow in April in the mountains of Southern California. After venturing to Mt. Hawkins a couple of weeks ago, I had wanted to get back to the San Gabriels and check out the snow on the higher part of the crest between Mt. Burnham (8997′) and Mt. Baden-Powell (9399′).
The photo on the left is a view west along the crest from the shoulder of Mt. Baden-Powell to Mt. Burnham and Throop Peak. Strong, southerly winds that accompany Winter storms blow from left to right across the crest, depositing extra snow in the wind-shadowed lee of the ridge. Snow accumulates along the ridge in dense, deep drifts, which in a big snow year can persist well into Summer.
The PCT between Mt. Baden-Powell and Throop Peak generally follows along the crest, tending to the north (right) side of the ridge and detouring around Mt. Baden-Powell and Mt. Burnham on their north slopes, and around Throop Peak on its southeast side.
Today, I stayed more or less on the crest between the summit of Baden-Powell and the PCT’s junction with the Dawson Saddle Trail, using the trail and snow where possible, but avoiding big drifts and steeper snow slopes. Between Throop Peak and Islip Saddle I stayed on the trail, and used micro spikes in a couple of places.
Lower elevation snow is melting relatively rapidly, but snow on the north-facing slopes at higher elevation could be around for weeks. Some patches and drifts may last into June or July. We’ll see!
On the summit of Baden-Powell I pondered Mt. Baldy and thought about Sam and his love of the outdoors and Mt. Baldy. His effusive spirit will linger there always, and we’ll smile when we encounter it.by
When I emerged from Garapito Canyon my shoes, socks, shorts and shirt were soaking wet. A group of hikers were nearby and one asked if it rained while I was down in the canyon. It hadn’t, but it might as well have.
Our wetter than normal rain season has produced a lush crop of annual grasses — some as tall as waist high — that have overgrown sections of many local trails.
Overnight, light rain had coated every blade of grass and every leaf and limb of brush along the Garapito Trail with water droplets. Running through the wet grass was like passing through the wet brushes of a refrigerated car wash.
I happened to be wearing Gortex-lined running shoes, which was laughable considering the amount of water that had run down my legs and into the shoes. They were just as wet as if I had waded through a creek. Well-fitting gaiters might have helped, and at least would have kept the foxtails out of my saturated socks.by