A grizzled guardian of the San Gabriel Mountains, the Wally Waldron Tree stands defiantly astride an airy, rock strewn ridge, just below the summit of 9399 ft. Mt. Baden-Powell.
Perched on the brink of the mountain’s precipitous southeast face, the weather-sculpted Limber Pine is at an elevation and in an environment similar to the 4000+ yr. old White Mountain Bristlecone Pines. Burnished and hardened, the tree’s huge, gnarled roots anchor it firmly to the mountain, helping it to resist the whims of weather and time. The tree is estimated to be 1500 years old.
We had stopped to visit the tree part way through an approximately 23.5 mile loop from Islip Saddle. Our route had descended to South Fork Campground (4560′), before climbing back up to Vincent Gap and Mt. Baden-Powell. In a few minutes we would continue to Baden-Powell’s summit, and from there follow the PCT along the crest back to Islip Saddle. Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the loop.
Water Notes: The little stream on the Manzanita Trail about 1.5 miles from Vincent Gap was still running. The flow from Little Jimmy Spring was lower than normal, but still very reasonable. We did not detour to Lamil Spring.
The sky was brightening in the east, and sunrise was approaching when I met Miklos and Krisztina at the Denny’s in Sylmar. We were already wasting light. The plan was to drive from near sea level up to Horseshoe Meadows, at about 10,000′ on the Sierra east side. The hike/run we had in mind was a keyhole loop from the Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead up (old) Army Pass and then down New Army Pass. If we felt OK at the top of Army Pass, we would also do Mt. Langley (14,026′).
The weather forecast looked good. There was a chance of some gusty southwest winds in the afternoon, but temps were warm and there was virtually no chance of T-storms. With a record low Southern Sierra snowpack, there was almost no chance that an ice axe would be required on Army Pass. I was familiar with the route on Langley and down from New Army Pass, and expected to be back to the car well before sunset. But, just in case, the moon was about half full.
Low snow year on Army Pass. June 23, 2007.
In fact, there had been very little snow on Army Pass, or anywhere else. We reached the pass relatively quickly, and decided to continue to Langley. Now, after another hour of hiking, we were above a prominent rock band that extends across Langley’s south face, and making good progress.
I’ve been convinced for some time that pursed-lip breathing helps me at higher altitudes, particularly when I’m not well acclimated. There’s a skill to it. There seems to me an optimum blend of heart rate, respiratory rate, and the amount of resistance created on exhalation. When all these factors are in balance, the breathing technique is almost automatic and effortless, and it really does seem to help. It certainly seemed to be helping me now.
I topped out a few hundred yards west of the summit, and ambled over to the high point of the peak. On a scale of 1 to 10, I felt pretty good — maybe a 7. Making an effort to stay hydrated, consume plenty of calories, and not push the pace too hard seemed to have worked — at least this time.
The view along the crest to Mt. Whitney and the peaks of the Kings-Kern Divide was telling. It was remarkable just how little snow there was at the highest elevations of the Sierra. A week before I had been paddling the Kern River. Now I could see why the flow on the upper Kern was dropping so fast.
Big horn sheep on the slopes of Mt. Langley. June 23, 2007.
Miklos and Krisztina joined me on the summit, and after taking a few summit photos, we headed down. Screeing down the slopes below the rock band, we were startled when a herd of perhaps 20 big horn sheep rumbled across the slopes below us. They flowed across the rough landscape like quicksilver. Graceful and robust, they moved effortlessly between the rocks and up a small slope. In the moments it took me to react, grab my camera, and turn it on, all but two large rams trailing the group, had disappeared.
Energized by the sight of these fleet-footed animals, we continued down to the saddle at Army Pass, and then up and over New Army Pass. Before sunset we would be back to the car, and before dark, eating dinner at Lone Pine. Before midnight we would be back in L.A. Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of our route.
Note: Going to higher altitudes without properly acclimating can result in very serious, life-threatening illnesses. There is much information available on the Internet regarding altitude sickness and acclimatization. As a starting point see UIAA Medical Commission – Advice and Recommendations and Wikipedia: Altitude sickness.
In a Spring in which there has been little rain and a reduced number of wildflowers, the vibrant yellow of gumplant has been a welcome sight along Ahmanson’s main trail in Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve near the Victory trailhead.
This appears to be Grindelia hirsutula var. hirsutula, a species considered rare in Ventura County. It is reported that a species of gumplant was used medicinally by the Chumash, and other native peoples within its range, for treatment of pulmonary problems.
Pine drops (Pterospora andromedea) and snow plant (Sarcodes sanguinea) are related nonphotosynthetic plants that are found under pine and related trees, primarily in the mountains of the western U.S.
At one time it was believed that these plants were saprophytes, and obtained needed nutrients directly from decaying organic matter in soil. However, research has revealed a more complex parasitic relationship in which the plant obtains carbohydrate from a pine tree, by way of a shared mycorrhizal fungus.
The photograph was taken on the run described in Heat Wave, on July 16, 2006.
Perfectly sized to work the minute central disk flowers of golden yarrow, a tiny insect — perhaps a syrphid fly — hovers a few millimeters from the plant, assessing the risk of continuing to feed.
The compound flower head of the golden yarrow (Eriophyllum confertiflorum) is about the size of a green pea (10mm), and the individual disk flowers at its center are about 1/5 as large (2mm).
