The adventure combines a seven-mile run on the PCT along Blue Ridge with a strenuous 1.5 mile, 1500′ climb up the North Backbone Trail to the summit of Pine Mountain (9648′). The Pine Mountain Juniper, estimated to be 800-1000 years old, is found at the 9000′ level of the North Backbone Trail.
Trunk of the Pine Mountain Juniper. Click for larger image.
On the way out I was glad to see the PCT had been rerouted around a steep, rocky stretch of trail below Mountain High West’s snow-making pond. I stayed on the PCT except for a very short section of dirt road between the top of the Acorn Trail and the overlook of the huge Wright Mountain landslide scar. The single track is more pleasant, and I didn’t have to worry about vehicles or their dust. I left the PCT when I was directly above the North Backbone Trailhead. A short path descended to the road.
The North Backbone Trail seems to be getting more attention these days. This adventure could be extended to include Dawson Peak and Mt. Baldy. A similar route was part of the 44-mile Big Pines Marathon — possibly the first mountain ultra in the U.S.
GPS elevation marker on the summit of San Gorgonio Mountain
For the second time this month, I was crossing San Gorgonio’s summit plateau and relieved to be nearing the summit. Most of the uphill was done! My route was the same both times — South Fork, Dollar Lake, Divide, and Summit Trails up; then the Summit Trail, Sky High, Dry Lake, and South Fork Trails down. Here is an interactive, 3D terrain view of the route.
The changes along the South Fork Trail in just two weeks were remarkable to see. It may be Summer in the lowlands, but Spring was still in progress on the mountain. Withered-looking black oaks were now flush with leaves; newly sprouted ferns had unfurled, filling areas of the understory with bright green fronds; colorful wildflowers seemed to have appeared overnight.
Paintbrush and ferns along the South Fork Trail
Over the past two weeks, trailwork continued in the area. The start of South Fork Trail was rerouted for a second time since the 2015 Lake Fire, avoiding a very steep, root-filled section. In a continuing battle, some of the dead trees that had fallen on the trail had been cleared.
Earlier in the month a few small patches of snow could still be seen on the mountain, but today it was nearly gone. Only one tiny, stubborn patch of snow remained on the crest, near the summit. Most of Southern California recorded below average precipitation this past year. According to OntheSnow.com, nearby Snow Summit recorded 121″ total snowfall in the 2020-2021 season. This compares to 110″ in the 2019-2020 season and 143″ in the wet 2018-2019 season. A paltry 36″ was reported in 2017-2018.
As I started up the final rocky hill to the top of San Gorgonio, a small group of hikers scrambled down from the summit. As was the case earlier in the month, the summit area was nearly empty. On an ascent in September 2019 — when wilderness permits were not required — I’d estimated 40-50 people on, or around, Gorgonio’s summit. The restoration of the permits seemed to have made a big difference.
3DEP Lidar data for the top of San Gorgonio Mountain. Click for larger image.
Out of curiosity, following the run I checked the high resolution 3DEP Lidar data for San Gorgonio. It resolves the twin summits, and indicates the official (west) summit is about three feet higher.
In 1989, the “San Bernardino County Surveyors” determined the elevation of San Gorgonio Mountain to be 11,501.6 feet. They placed this small marker on summit. The USGS page Global Positioning Application and Practice discusses some higher precision GPS equipment and survey methods. The elevation of the mountain has probably shifted a little since that measurement was done.
San Jacinto Peak from 11,200′ on the Sky High Trail
After comparing notes with a runner doing the clockwise version of the route I was doing, I headed back down the Summit Trail to its junction with the Sky High Trail.
By their very nature, mountain trails are scenic, but the Sky High Trail is exceptionally so. Running down the Sky High Trail is what running in the mountains is all about. It is spectacular! That doesn’t mean it’s a cakewalk. The trail is rough, rocky, and crosses steep slopes. As with any trail on such terrain, snow on the trail can be a serious issue.
Dry Lake, June 6, 2021
The Sky High Trail ends at Mineshaft Saddle. From here, I picked up the Dry Lake Trail and continued down, down, down. Above Dry Lake, a section of trail pummeled by an avalanche in 2019 had been restored. Continuing, the trail winds down through a complex of glacial moraines above Dry Lake. and then follows the margin of a large moraine down to Dry Lake. The lake dried up early this year, and was already dry on June 6.
Golden yarrow along the Dry Lake Trail
It can be very warm in the afternoon on the Dry Lake Trail between Dry Lake and South Fork Meadows, but today gusty winds kept the temperature moderate. At South Fork Meadows, I gulped down a liter-bottle of water, enjoying the cool shade, and then finished the run.
With vaccinations on the increase and Covid on the decline, it was wonderful to once again be able to visit family.
As we always try to do, Brett and I got in a couple of runs. We usually do at least one run that is new to me, and there are certainly plenty from which to choose in the Bay Area.
Oxeye Daisy along the Old Ranch Trail
Our first run was on San Bruno Mountain. We’d previously done the Ridge Trail, so this time opted to do a variation of the Summit Loop. The parking lot at the base was was closed, so we started the run using the Old Ranch Road Trail. This was a plus because it added a little mileage and there were a lot of wildflowers along the trail, including monkeyflower, iris, lupine, yellow paintbrush, daisy, and foxglove.
The next day, after watching a spirited youth soccer match, we headed south on 280. On the way, Brett filled me in on the runs he likes to do in Windy Hill Open Space Preserve and Huddart Park. We couldn’t go wrong with either choice but finally decided to save Huddart Park for another day.
Razorback Ridge Trail
Windy Hill Open Space Preserve is on the northeast-facing slopes of the Santa Cruz Mountains above Portola Valley. We parked near the Alpine Trailhead and ran up the road to the Eagle Trail. Corte Madera Creek was running, but low. Although the grasses along the trail were green and the undergrowth was relatively lush, I suspect the conditions were more like July than May. Open hillsides looked mid-Summer dry and the lichen on the trees was drab and desiccated.
Like the rest of California, the Santa Cruz Mountains have seen well below average precipitation this rain season. One station near Windy Hill, Woodside 3.4 S, recorded only about 28% (12″) of normal precipitation from October 1 to May 19. Another station, Skyline Ridge Preserve, recorded about 41% of normal (16.5″) from October 1 to May 3.
Western columbine
From the Eagle Trail/Private Road we turned onto the Razorback Ridge Trail. According to my Garmin track, the Razorback Ridge Trail gains 1000′ or so over 2.4 miles to its junction with the Lost Trail. It’s all runnable, switch-backing up a thimbleberry and fern-lined trail, shaded by California bay trees.
While the Razorback Ridge Trail continues up another 0.4 miles to Skyline Blvd., we turned right onto the Lost Trail. This trail parallels Skyline as it works in and out of the tributary ravines of Jones Gulch, on its way over to the Hamms Gulch Trail. Along the way there were views across the valley to Mt. Diablo, some 40 miles distant. Western columbine was blooming along the trail, its bright red color complimenting the green theme.
Large Douglas-fir along the Lost Trail
At the top of Jones Gulch, there is an impressive, old-growth Douglas-fir. At chest height, it is about as wide as Brett is tall. This would put its diameter at over 72″ and its circumference at over 220″, suggesting an age in the neighborhood of 350 years.
The run down the Hamms Gulch Trail was as good as the run up Razorback Ridge. Given the weather was nearly perfect for a hike or run, we were surprised to see only a dozen or so people on the trail.
From where we were parked the run worked out to about 8 miles, with about 1500′ of gain/loss. Here is a trail map of the area, and here is an interactive, 3D terrain view of my GPS track of the loop. The interactive map can be zoomed, tilted, rotated, and panned. For help controlling the view, click/tap the “?” icon in the upper right corner of the screen.
When I started up the trail from Vincent Gap (6585′), the thermometer on my pack read 36°F. For the first few switchbacks, the trail was immersed in cloud. Beneath the tall conifers, the sandy soil was dotted with droplets of moisture extracted from the fog.
Google Earth image of GPS track down the South Ridge of Mt. Baden-Powell to Ross Mountain
I was on my way to Ross Mountain (7402′), one of the most isolated peaks in the San Gabriel Mountains. At the end of a rugged, 3-mile ridge extending south from the summit of Mt. Baden-Powell, the peak overlooks the vast canyons of the Sheep Mountain Wilderness.
This morning, the canyons were filled with a 7000′ deep layer of stratus clouds. With a weak upper low over the Southern Sierra, the question of the day was whether the cloud deck would work up the ridge from Ross Mountain and completely envelop Baden-Powell.
Summit of Mt. Baden-Powell. May 16, 2021.
Well acquainted with the trail up Baden-Powell, a combination of fast-hiking and slow-jogging put me on top in a relatively comfortable 90 minutes. I’d tried not to overdo the pace, knowing from previous experience that the return from Ross Mountain would be the tough part of the day.
From the summit of Baden-Powell, I gazed across the sea of clouds to Mt. Baldy. There was almost no snow on its steep north face. San Gorgonio Mountain was visible in the haze to the left of Pine Mountain and San Jacinto Peak in the gap between Dawson Peak and Mt. Baldy.
South Ridge of Mt. Baden-Powell with Ross Mountain partially visible in the clouds
Walking a little down the south side of Baden-Powell, I got my first good look at the South Ridge. Ross Mountain was nearly covered in clouds. Guessing that the deck of clouds might deepen, and a few minutes might make the difference of being in the clouds or out, I started to jog-lope-shuffle down the initial steep slope.
The title photo was taken a bit past Peak 8375, about 1.7 miles from Baden-Powell and 1.2 miles from Ross Mountain. At that time the clouds were spilling over the ridge near Peak 7407 and Peak 7360+, and around Ross Mountain.
Into the clouds near Peak 7407
The clouds added an aesthetic element to the adventure, as well as a little uncertainty. They accentuated and embellished the terrain, while threatening to make the conditions wet, cold and disorienting. Being familiar with the route helped me to enjoy the experience more than the concerns.
After navigating the false summits along the final stretch of ridge, I finally reached Ross. And, of course, it was in the clouds. That was the tradeoff for the spectacular views of the clouds along the ridge.
I didn’t spend much time on the summit. The more time I could spend out of the clouds, the more enjoyable would be the 2200’+ climb back to Baden-Powell.
It took a little over two hours for the clouds to chase me back up the ridge, but only an hour to run the four miles down from Baden-Powell to the foggy trailhead.
Twin Peaks and Mt. Waterman from the Hawkins Ridge Trail
Don’t let there be a headwall… Don’t let there be a headwall… That’s what I kept muttering to myself as I climbed up the decomposing granodiorite rib. The topo map showed the rib connecting directly to the crest, but from my vantage point I couldn’t tell if that was actually going to happen.
So far the the difficulties had been manageable. The route had been steep and loose, but for the most part it was at an angle that probably wouldn’t result in a long fall or slide. Probably. But if it got any steeper it could be a problem, and I really didn’t want to downclimb 1200′ of crumbly rock and loose debris.
Working up the rib I had gone from “secure spot to secure spot,” trying to minimize my exposure in between. In a few places a climbing move had been required to avoid disturbing fractured or delicately balanced rocks. On one section it had been necessary to crawl through a mountain mahogany, its stiff limbs poking fun at my route-finding. Higher up, the solid handholds of a massive gray boulder had helped to ascend a particularly loose section.
Crystal Lake Recreation Area from the crest near Peak 8426
As I climbed, I considered alternative routes, surveying the terrain to my left, right, and along the crest. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a better line. But I needed to be patient. The rib was working and I just needed to stay on it.
I tried to recall if I’d ever been on anything like this. I’d certainly done a few class 2 descents on Sierra peaks that were loose. The closest comparison might be some of the “knapsack passes” in the Sierra. These are usually class 2 or class 3 routes that go over notches and connect one high basin to another. They are often steep, loose and wet, and can hold snow or ice throughout the Summer.
And then suddenly I was on top. There was no more rib to climb. While I enjoyed the problem solving, it’s not a climbing route I would recommend, and I probably won’t repeat it.
South Mt. Hawkins and Sadie Hawkins from the Hawkins Ridge Trail
Climbing the rib was my overly-creative way of doing a loop that included the Hawkins Ridge Trail. I’d done Middle Hawkins (Peak 8505′) as a side trip on a run from Islip Saddle to Baden-Powell, but had not gone down the ridge as far as Sadie Hawkins (Peak 8047′).
It was the perfect day to be running the Ridge Trail. The weather was far better than during my last run in the area. Temps were about 20 degrees warmer, and while it was still breezy, the wind was nowhere near the strength of a couple weeks ago. A sea of marine layer stratus filled the valleys and extended into San Gabriel Canyon, providing an “above the clouds” backdrop befitting of a mountain trail.
Pines on Hawkins Ridge that survived the 2002 Curve Fire
Winding down the use trail from Sadie Hawkins, I rejoined the main Hawkins Ridge Trail and followed it down to the saddle between Sadie Hawkins and South Mt. Hawkins. Two weeks ago, I’d followed the road up to South Hawkins and then descended the north ridge directly. This time I ascended the Hawkins Ridge Trail, carefully following the trail. I was surprised to find it didn’t ascend the north ridge directly, but wrapped around the west side of the peak.
Later, as I ran down South Mt. Hawkins Trail/Road, I thought about the amount of rocky debris along and on the road. It emphasized the friable nature of the rock above, and how often there are larger rockslides. When I reached the point on the road where I could see the route I’d climbed, I just shook my head. Who the heck would want to go up there?
Mustard flowering in Cheeseboro Canyon reveals the underlying structure of a hill.
According to the Dibblee geologic map of the area, the strata are part of the Modelo Formation. And… the Modelo Trail passes directly over the top of the hill.
