Category Archives: running

Running Between the Clouds

San Gabriel Peak, Mt. Disappointment and clouds from the Strawberry Peak Trail.

Unlike most of the rainy season, March rainfall has generally been above average in Los Angeles, Ventura and Santa Barbara Counties. Last Saturday I’d enjoyed a run in Pt. Mugu State Park following a few days of wet weather, and today my outing would be in the wake of the strongest storm to affect the  area since January.

I was in the San Gabriel Mountains, and doing a get-your-hear-rate-up combo run I did last year — ascending San Gabriel Peak and Strawberry Peak from Red Box. The duo are the two highest peaks in the Front Range of the San Gabriel Mountains and have been popular for many years.

The storm had been a warm one, with high snow levels, and I was surprised to find the morning temperature at Red Box in the mid-30s. The surface low and trough associated with the storm were still along the West Coast and the circulation was creating a strong southwesterly flow. This was pushing mostly benign mid-level clouds into the valleys and mountains. More picturesque than threatening, the clouds imparted a high mountain flavor to the surroundings.

Last year I’d done San Gabriel Peak first, so today I started with Strawberry. It’s the more difficult of the two peaks. The route to its summit is about a mile longer; it has a bit more elevation gain; and it includes a stretch on rough, steep, unmaintained trail. Of course, that’s part of its appeal.

The clouds were ever changing. While Strawberry Peak escaped most of the clouds, San Gabriel Peak was often obscured.

Here are a few photos taken along the way.

Poison Oak Along the Backbone Trail

Poison Oak Along the Backbone Trail

Even though rainfall in the Los Angeles area is way below average this rain season, some plants along our local trails — such as this poison oak — are flourishing.

Flowering poison oak along the Backbone Trail.
Flowering poison oak. Click for larger image.

The growth of plants is dependent on a mind-boggling mix of interrelated factors. Maybe it was the rain in January in combination with the unseasonably warm weather in January and February. Or maybe there was some carryover in vitality from last year’s wet rain season. Or maybe it was something else. Whatever the case, poison oak in the Santa Monica Mountains seems to be doing very well this year!

The title photo is of poison oak along the Rogers Road segment of the Backbone Trail. It was taken March 10, 2018. Watch for overhanging branches!

Some related posts: Sweet Smell of Poison Oak, Find the Poison Oak, Large Poison Oak Leaves

Leaving Winter Behind

Valley oak, sun and clouds. Photography by Gary Valle'.

The wind blew in erratic gusts and a few cold raindrops fell against my bare arms and legs. To the north and west were more active cells, and I could see the telltale gray-white curtains of heavy rain just a couple miles away. I’d extended my run, just to enjoy the energetic feeling.

Much of this Winter it has been dry and warm in Southern California, with only a pittance of rain in the key months of December and February. It hasn’t been just a little dry — July through February was the second driest in Los Angeles on record.

But by the vagarities of Mother nature, a shift to a wetter weather pattern has occurred in the Eastern Pacific, bringing much-needed rain to California. While it won’t erase the rainfall deficit in the Los Angeles area, some rain is definitely better than none!

Rivas Canyon Eucalyptus

What is it? Photography by Gary Valle'.

These shallow channels looked like they might have been cut by a woodworker’s router. But they were cut — or I should say chewed — by Longhorned Borer beetle larvae, feeding on the cambium of a eucalyptus tree.

Fallen eucalyptus in Rivas Canyon. The grooves are from beetle larvae feeding on the cambium of the tree.
Fallen eucalyptus in Rivas Canyon. The grooves are from beetle larvae feeding on the cambium of the tree.

The tree was across the trail in Rivas Canyon. Not unlike the fallen oak on Rocky Peak, Southern California’s multi-year drought likely weakened the eucalyptus, making it susceptible to other pests.

The Rivas Canyon Trail connects Will Rogers State Park to Temescal Canyon. Today (and last weekend) I ran it as part of a long loop from the “End of Reseda” at Marvin Braude Mulholland Gateway Park.

Some related posts: Will Rogers – Temescal Loop, Will Rogers Western Ranch House, Downtown Los Angeles and San Jacinto Peak

Bizarro Bulldog Loop

Bizarro Bulldog Loop

The rock and brush-choked gully was going to have to do. There was no “use trail” or other path that I could find. Just to be sure I wasn’t missing another route, I followed the overgrown dirt road past the power transmission tower to where it dead-ended at a wall of chaparral.

Returning to the gully, I looked up. A large boulder and some other debris were wedged against a tree, blocking its entrance. Knowing well the pitfalls, I carefully clambered over the aggregation and started up the congested channel.

Curiosity is an irresistible force for most that love the outdoors. It propels us to explore near and far, experiencing what we have not experienced before. It knows no geographic bounds, and can be equally strong a mile, or a hemisphere, from home.

In a sense this adventure began years ago, when I first noticed the power line service roads paralleling the Bulldog Mtwy fire road. Since then I’ve done the Bulldog loop many times. Each time I’ve looked over at those roads and wondered why they didn’t connect — and how difficult it would be to link the two.

That question might finally be answered today. The plan was to do a variation of the Bulldog Loop, finishing the climb to the crest using the power line service roads, rather than Bulldog Mtwy.

When I’d parked at the the Cistern trailhead on Mulholland the temperature had been a chilly 28 degF. A mile and a half into the run, down in the canyon along Malibu Creek, the Tempe sensor attached to my pack read 24 degF!

It was cold enough that the wind chill from running 4-5 mph was significant. I could feel the cold through my gloves and arm sleeves and my hands were getting cold. I flexed my hands as I ran, and from time to time would briefly walk to reduce the chill. Relief was only a couple of miles away — at the start of the Bulldog climb I would break into the sun.

Ah sun, glorious sun! There is nothing quite like the warmth of the morning sun following a cold dawn. It warms the body and imbibes the soul. It is something to relish and celebrate.

I’d reached that sun about 30 minutes ago. Now I was immersed in cool shade and working my way up the steep drainage through thick chaparral. The puzzle was not an easy one, and I’d almost turned around several times. To not make a foolish decision, it is necessary to be willing to turn around.

At one point the route up the gully appeared to be blocked. Looking for an alternative, I worked up a steep slope on the left, concentrating on the route-finding. It wasn’t going to go either. When I stopped to re-evaluate the route, I realized I was surrounded by a tangled thicket of just-sprouted poison oak.

Resigned that it was just going to be too ugly to continue, I returned to the gully, intending to follow it down. But then I muttered to myself, “I wonder…” and took a couple steps up the gully, and then a couple more. A route through the impasse revealed itself. Many times that’s all it takes — a step or two — to see a solution not seen before. I could continue.

Eventually the terrain forced me to the right of the gully, up along a sandstone rib, and toward a little outcrop. The rock quality was very poor. Fist-sized pieces of cobble embedded in the sandstone could be pulled out by hand and sound-appearing holds were easily broken.

With some careful route-finding I was soon on top of the sunlit rock. An island in a tumultuous ocean of chaparral, it gave me the first good view of my surroundings since I’d started up the gully. From the outcrop I could see why the roads didn’t connect. Partially hidden from view, a 50′ tall headwall completely blocked the drainage.

There was no way I was going to try and climb the headwall directly. Trying to force a line here would be a very bad idea. But there was a weakness on its right side that — if it wasn’t too steep and loose — might go.

And it did! Once on top of the headwall, only a bit of bush-whacking was necessary to get to the first tower on the upper service road. Freed from the tangle of chaparral, it didn’t take long to get up to Castro Peak Mtwy, and back onto the Bulldog loop.

I won’t be doing THAT route again, but did enjoy solving the puzzle — even if it was a bit bizarre. Here are a few photos taken along the way.