Category Archives: running|adventures

Room with a View

Tahquitz Peak Historic Fire Lookout
Tahquitz Peak Historic Fire Lookout

The intimidating canyon rose steeply above me. Towering rock precipices lined the canyon walls, their summits glistening in the morning sun. I was at an elevation of about 2600′ and it was already warm. A little unsteady, and moving slowly at first, I started the ascent. Gaining speed, I passed the first rock face, and after a minute or two, turned to gaze at Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley. In what seems like a matter of minutes, yucca and creosote transitioned to mountain mahogany and juniper, and then to pine and fir. Suddenly my pace slows, there is a bump, a jostle, and a pause. The operator announces, “Welcome to the mountain station of the Palm Springs Tram. The elevation is 8516’…”

Palm Springs Tram
Palm Springs Tram

A 10 minute ride from the desert to the pines on the Palm Springs Tram isn’t a bad way to start a run. A couple of weeks before I had seen Mt. San Jacinto from the North Backbone Trail and it reminded me that I hadn’t done that peak in a while. As the weekend approached it looked like the weather would be perfect for a long mountain run.

Mt. San Jacinto State Park and Wilderness contains a network of over 50 miles of trails, including a segment of the Pacific Crest Trail. The resourceful runner or hiker can put together an adventure ranging from a few miles to 30 miles or more. I hoped to beat the worst of the Sunday going home traffic, so opted for an approximately 20 mile route that would get me back to the tram in the early afternoon.

Stopping at the ranger station in Long Valley, I filled out a wilderness permit. Cool air had pooled in the valley overnight, and the deck of the station was still in shade. The ballpoint pen protested the 40-something degree temperature, but with repeated attempts, I scratched in my destinations: Mt. San Jacinto and Tahquitz Peak.

The summit of Mt. San Jacinto, with Mt. San Gorgonio (11,499') in the distance.
The summit of Mt. San Jacinto, with Mt. San Gorgonio (11,499′) in the distance.

My route would take me to the summit of Mt. San Jacinto (10,834′), back down to the junction at Wellmans Divide, and then continue down to the Pacific Crest Trail. The PCT would be followed through Saddle Junction to the junction with the South Ridge Trail, and then continue on this trail to the historic fire lookout on Tahquitz Peak. I would return to Long Valley via Skunk Cabbage Meadow and Hidden Divide. Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the route.

The run and the running were outstanding – a blue skies and sunshine kind of day, with Autumn shadows, light winds, pleasant temperatures, and nearly unlimited visibility. Much of route was through spectacular old-growth forests of Jeffrey Pine, Lodgepole Pine and White Fir. The uphills were generally very well graded, with long runnable sections. And the downhills – ah the downhills – some rocky and technical, and some that make you feel as if you’re blazing down the trail on a Star Wars speeder bike.

Tahquitz Peak Historic Fire Lookout.
Tahquitz Peak Historic Fire Lookout.

The lookout on Tahquitz Peak is a can’t miss destination. On the way, there are superb views of Tahquitz and Suicide rocks, and from the summit there are expansive views in nearly all directions. Palomar Mountain can be seen about 30 miles to the south, Saddleback about 50 miles to the west, and Mt. Baldy and its neighbors about 65 miles to the northwest. Much closer are the slopes leading to Jean Peak and the summit area of San Jacinto.

The lookout operated continuously from 1917-1993, and is listed in the National Historic Lookout Register. It reopened in 1998 and is manned by volunteer Fire Lookout Hosts.

Walking up the stairs in the mountain station, I glance at my watch. It’s 2:00 p.m. and the next tram is just about to depart. I’m back to my car and headed down the hill by 2:30, but it’s still not early enough to miss the traffic on I-10.

Related post: Skiing San Jacinto, Autumn Trail Running on Mt. San Jacinto

(Also see Manzanita, Ice and Clouds, The Shovel, and Mt. San Jacinto Summit Hut on SierraPhotography.com.)

Strawberry Peak Traverse

Josephine Peak from the northwest ridge of Strawberry Peak.

When I broke through the top of the stratus layer, bright sun glared from the jagged granitic rocks along the ridge. To the west, Josephine Peak (5558′) was nearly immersed in an ocean of clouds.

The route I was doing was a variation of the Strawberry Peak Circuit described in the posting Spring Growth. Instead of going around the peak on the Colby Trail, this 13-mile loop climbs up and over Strawberry’s summit (6164′), ascending the class 3 northwest ridge, and then rejoins the circuit at Lawlor Saddle. Although a couple of miles shorter than the circuit around the peak, this route has more elevation gain, and the class 2 and class 3 sections of the ridge require careful route-finding.

Class 2, class 3 – what’s that about? Basically, class 1 is hiking, class 2 is easy scrambling where the hands are used for balance, and class 3 is when the scrambling gets serious, and handholds are required. Another element of class 3 climbing is that staying on route can be important. Deviating from an established route may significantly increase the difficulty or hazard. This is certainly the case on the northwest ridge of Strawberry.

Like much of the San Gabriel Mountains, the rocks of Strawberry Peak are old and fractured. Large landslides have originated from the northwest face of the peak. (The Colby Trail passes through the moraine-like debris of one of these slides.) Because of its friable nature, extra care is required when climbing the northwest ridge. Hand or footholds can break, or footing can be lost on a sandy shelf. Or, as described in a story by pioneering aerodynamicist Paul MacCready, the climber can be trapped in a situation where they cannot climb up or down.

The northwest ridge of Strawberry is by far the most frequently climbed class 3 route in the San Gabriel Mountains. Done with care and appropriate skill, the climbing on the ridge can be an enjoyable and unique experience.

On the summit ridge, I admired the steep northwest face of Strawberry Peak as it plunged through the morning shadows to Strawberry Potrero nearly 1500′ below. Did I hear voices down there, or was it just the wind…

Here are a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the route.

North Backbone Trail Revisited

Wind-swept Jeffrey pine near Dawson Peak
Wind-swept Jeffrey pine near Dawson Peak

I was cold — but not cold enough to do anything about it. I was chugging up the final steep step on Mt. Baldy’s exposed northern flank and didn’t want to stop. Strong winds were gusting out of the northeast, and the effective temperature had to be in the thirties. Mountain wave clouds paralleled the San Gabriels, stretching in a line from southwest of Mt. Baldy to beyond Mt. Williamson.

At the trailhead I’d seen the lens shaped clouds hovering over the mountains and expected it to be windy and cold. I’d changed my single layer long sleeve top for a more wind resistant double layer top and also pulled on some warmer shorts. I had started the climb with lightweight gloves and a  3 oz. rain shell in my pack. The gloves were out of the pack by the first peaklet, but I was still resisting putting on the rain shell.

So why repeat the same adventure on back-to-back weekends? The main reason is that I really enjoyed the route. But there were several more obtuse reasons as well. Last week, my Garmin Forerunner 205 would not turn on*. This is a known issue with an otherwise excellent GPS. However the usual workaround, pressing Mode + Reset + Power simultaneously, would not bring mine to life. So I didn’t get a a GPS trace of the route. The trace is not only useful for determining the approximate length of the route and elevation gain, but for documenting where photographs were taken and the location of interesting features.

This week I used my older Garmin Foretrex 201 GPS. It isn’t as compact or comfortable to wear as the Forerunner 205, and isn’t quite as sensitive, but at least it could be powered on. There were two trees in particular that I wanted to georeference. The first was a Jeffrey pine that had been recently struck by lightning. As it turns out, it didn’t require a GPS to determine its location because it is already marked on the topo as point 8555. The second was a gnarled and ancient Sierra Juniper on Pine Mountain.

Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the route. The title photograph is of a wind swept Jeffrey Pine on a south facing slope near Dawson Peak, with mountain wave clouds in the background.

*Garmin promptly replaced the unit. As a precaution, I now check that the unit can be powered on after it is removed from the recharging cradle.

Some related posts: Mt. Baldy North Backbone Trail, Mt. Baldy Run Over the Top

Mt. Baldy North Backbone Trail

Lodgepole Pine and distorted mountain wave clouds near Dawson Peak.
Lodgepole Pine and distorted mountain wave clouds near Dawson Peak.

As I drove under the ski lift on the narrow dirt road, I wondered if I was in the right place. I had turned off of Angeles Crest Highway a few minutes before, and hoped I was still on Blue Ridge Road. My intended destination was an isolated turnout that serves as the trailhead for the North Backbone Trail. This classic trail follows a roller-coaster ridgeline to Mt. Baldy’s broad 10,064′ summit.

Bouncing along the dirt road, I surveyed the sky. The forecast had been for partly cloudy skies, but the morning had dawned overcast and crimson red, and now there was talk of rain. Autumn in the mountains is like that.

The North Backbone Trail is usually not as busy as the usual routes that ascend Mt. Baldy (Mt. San Antonio). One of the reasons is the bumpy six mile, back country drive to the trailhead. Another is the undulating round-trip route gains (and loses) about 4750′ over about eight miles. It climbs over – or nearly over – three highpoints: Point 8555, Pine Mountain (9648′), and Dawson Peak (9575′).

Rounding a corner, I’m surprised to see a small turnout jammed with cars. It’s not hunting season yet, so there must be a group already on the ridge. Squeezing into the last available space, I check that I’m not blocking the road or the car behind me, grab my pack, and jog down the trail to a saddle. To the east Mt. San Jacinto is sandwiched between low clouds and high, and I wonder what the day will bring…

As I reach the summit, the sun breaks through the clouds for the briefest instant. As if driven by my efforts on the ups and downs of the trail, the blues, whites and grays of the sky and clouds have been continuously changing. In turn, the intricacy of the clouds and their motion has energized me. It has been a extraordinary ascent, full of exertion, discovery, wonder, and awe.

A hiker on the summit smiles and waves, and walks over to me. Excited, he tells me that he is 57 and just started climbing peaks two years ago. This is his 57th summit. Days like today are why.

The North Backbone Trail is a treat for the fit and experienced adventurer. In fair weather, and without any snow and ice, it is a strenuous, but relatively straightforward climb. The ups and downs are generally quite steep and there are a few loose, rubbly sections. I hiked the ups, and jogged the flats and downhills. It is not a place to be in a thunderstorm.

The photograph of a Lodgepole Pine and mountain wave cloud was taken on the slopes of Dawson Peak, on my way back from Mt. Baldy. About an hour later, as I descended from Peak 8555, it started to rain. Autumn in the mountains is like that.

Here’s a Google Earth image of a GPS trace of the route from North Backbone Trail Revisited.

Some related posts: Mt. Baldy Run Over the Top, Pine Mountain Juniper, Mt. Baldy Runner

Cottonwood – New Army Pass Loop

Rock Creek trail below New Army Pass.
Upper Rock Creek Canyon

The climb up the glacier sculpted canyon hadn’t been too bad. How could it be on a day like this? Winds were light, and the temperature was refreshingly cool – perfect for running in shorts and a lightweight long-sleeve top. As I had worked up the Rock Creek trail, marmots, fat for the Winter, had whistled warnings of my approach and then waddled for cover. Amicable clouds embellished the high mountain sky, and sun-chased shadows quietly set the pace.

Mt. Langley from New Army Pass.
Mt. Langley from New Army Pass.

Atop New Army Pass, I marveled at the diverse landscape. To the north loomed the massive hulk of Mt. Langley. Invitingly close, I had climbed the peak from this point several times before. Today, the additional 5 miles and 2300′ in elevation gain were not part of the plan. Just a few hours before I had been in the San Fernando Valley at an elevation of 800′. Now above 12,000′, I was happy to feel more or less normal, be able to run the flats and downhills, and enjoy the day. (See the note regarding altitude sickness and acclimatization at the end of this post.)

New Army Pass (12,300′) is at about mile 12 of the approximately 21 mile loop. On May 1 California Cooperative Snow Surveys reported the Southern Section Sierra snowpack at 177% of normal. Four months and a very hot summer later, remnants of that snow could still be seen on the Sierra crest near the pass.

Long Lake in the Cottonwood Lakes basin.
Long Lake in the Cottonwood Lakes basin.

My route had started at Horseshoe Meadow, climbed to Cottonwood Pass, and then followed the Pacific Crest Trail and a connecting trail to the Rock Creek trail. From New Army Pass the route would drop down to Long Lake, and then head east to Cottonwood Creek, where it would follow a roundabout route back to the trailhead.

Nearly the entire loop is at or above 10,000′, and almost 12 miles of it are above 11,000′. Many miles of the route are in stands of hardy and picturesque Southern Foxtail Pine. A close relative of the Bristlecone Pine, Foxtail Pines can live to be more than 3000 years old.

In places along the crest, impervious trunks of long dead Foxtail Pines lay in the talus. Many of these ancient trees are larger than the live Foxtail Pines surrounding them. In some cases the relic trees are found above the current treeline – a stark reminder of the changeable nature of Earth’s climate.

The title photograph was taken on the Rock Creek Trail at an elevation of about 11,200′ looking west. Mt. Anna Mills is the sunlit peak on the left, and Mt. Guyot is the peak on the right. In the distance are peaks of the Great Western Divide. An USGS aerial photograph of the area suggests that the mound of rocks to the right of the trail may be a moraine associated with a small rock glacier. The red arrow in the aerial photo indicates the approximate position and direction of the photo on the trail. It could be the feature originated as a landslide, but semi-concentric surface ridges in the debris appear to be evidence of fluid motion at some point in the past.

Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the loop.

Note: 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.

Peru Running


Runners on a high plateau above the Sacred Valley of the Incas.


We did this acclimatization run early in our running adventure in Peru. The grain field is on a plateau at about 11,000′, and parallels the Sacred Valley of the Incas, and Urubamba River.


The run took us across the plateau, down to the Maras salt mines, and then down into the Sacred Valley at a little over 9000′. Excited about the trip, we ran most of the way back to the hotel in Yucay. That evening we enjoyed Pisco Sours and an excellent dinner, and then drifted off to sleep dreaming of big mountains and expansive views.


The high peaks beyond the valley are part of the Cordilla Urubamba and are over 5000m (16,400′). The highest point on the Inca Trail, the “pass of the dead woman,” is at about 13,800′. Later in the trip we would cross two 5000m passes while running a circuit of Mt. Ausangate.


The photograph is from July 15, 2003. The trip organizer, Devy Reinstein of Andes Adventures, is a accomplished runner, and a genius at travel logistics and organization.