Green is what you get when so much rain falls on a valley oak savanna. This is a view west, down East Las Virgenes Creek, toward Las Virgenes Canyon. The ridge in the distance is between Las Virgenes and Cheeseboro Canyons.
Earlier, from the Etz Meloy fire road, Anacapa and Santa Cruz Islands had seemed to be magnified by the ocean haze — the lighter-colored rocks of San Pedro Point clearly visible on the east end of Santa Cruz. To the south, Santa Barbara Island, the smallest of the Channel Islands, had been visible near the horizon.
I was doing an out and back run on the Backbone Trail from the Kanan Road trailhead, and wondering if I had enough water to go to Mishe Mokwa and then the 15 miles back to Kanan. The irony was that, following several years of drought, this Winter it had rained and rained. Water was everywhere, but I had not thought to bring a UV pen or filter.
Reaching the point where the trail turns to the north and has a great view of Sandstone Peak, Circle X and the Mishe Mokwa trailhead I again debated turning around. Across the canyon, sunlight gleamed from the cars parked at the Mishe Mokwa Trailhead. The rocky knolls below the trailhead were green with rain and though I couldn’t see them from here, would be covered with a spectacular patchwork of purple and yellow shooting stars.
Hmm… I’d run a little over 13 miles, so Mishe Mokwa was less than two trail miles away. Going there would add about 3.5 miles to my run. I lifted my pack to see how much water I had left, and then continued down the trail.
Milkmaids (Cardamine californica) are among the first flowers to bloom in the Santa Monica Mountains in the early Winter. The plant prefers the the coast live oak understory, and the four-petaled white blossoms stand out brightly in the shade of the trees.
These are along the Serrano Canyon Trail in Pt. Mugu State Park. This photo was taken February 4, 2017, but milkmaids were blooming on this trail as early as January 1, 2017.
Ah, the wonder of technology! I just discovered that for at least a couple of weeks, email messages from Photography on the Run’s contact form have been silently bouncing.
The contact form actually sent the messages, but a downstream mail server was rejecting them. No notifications were generated and the messages were not quarantined. Effectively, the messages just vanished into the network ether. To make matters worse, it looked like the messages were successfully sent.
I appreciate your feedback and respond to all emails that are not spam. The manner in which messages are sent from the form has been changed and message delivery should now be more reliable.
Ahead of another rainstorm, offshore pressure gradients had weakened and the onshore flow was rapidly increasing, pushing marine layer clouds into the coastal canyons of the Santa Monica Mountains and spilling over the low points of the crest.
My first stop was going to be Temescal Peak. This little peak is about 3.5 miles from the trailhead, near the junction of Temescal Ridge fire road and the Backbone Trail. It’s a nice way to start a run, and on a clear day it can have surprisingly extensive views.
The answer to that question turned out to be no. In fact I could barely see my nose from Temescal Peak. In the 12 minutes it had taken me to get to the peak from the Hub the entire area, including the summit of Temescal Peak (about 2100′), had become enveloped in fog.
The misty rain had momentarily turned to sunshine. As I ran along the trail, rain-soaked sage glittered in a rainbow of colors. The peaks above me were still shrouded in gray clouds, but the sunlit valley below glowed bright and green. Streams that had been dry on New Years, now burbled and bubbled restlessly. My shoes and socks were soaked, not from stream crossings, but from the cold, wet grass overgrowing the trail.
Dense patches of shooting stars covered wet hillsides and milkmaids lined shady sections of trail. Paintbrush, Indian warrior, California poppies, larkspur, chocolate lilies, bladderpod, encelia, lupine, nightshade, wild hyacinth, phacelia, bigpod ceanothus and wishbone bush had also started to bloom.
The day not only encouraged the accumulation of miles, but of the sensations and emotions of the outdoor experience; and that feeling of well-being that emerges somewhere between the trailhead and the top of the last climb.