Category Archives: trails

Raining Rime

Fallen rime around a white fir

As I ran across the ice my footfalls made a loud crunch, crunch, crunch. Nearby a barrage of rime cascaded from a white fir. Friday’s cold system had rimed the trees along the crest, and now the ice was thawing, shedding from the branches and creating a patchwork of white beneath the trees. The ice wasn’t dense but I still didn’t want a large chunk falling on my head!

The cutoff upper level low that moved into Southern California Friday really cooled things down. The Big Pines RAWS (6917′) recorded an overnight low of 26°F Friday night. It was even colder in the Sierra. A snow sensor at 11,400′ in the Kern River headwaters recorded an overnight low of 12°F. Most of yesterday the temperature at Big Pines was in the 40s.



I was running on one of the most scenic segments of trail in the mountains of Southern California — the Pacific Crest Trail between Mt. Hawkins and Mt. Baden-Powell. There are three trail runs I like to do that include this stretch: Inspiration Point to Islip Saddle on the PCT, the Islip Saddle – South Fork – Baden-Powell Loop, and the route I was doing today, the Out and Back to Mt. Baden-Powell from Islip Saddle.

Warmer weather was forecast today, but this morning it had been cool and blustery at Islip Saddle. The temperature in the sun-warmed — but windy — parking lot had been around 43°F. In the shade of Mt. Islip at the start of the run the temperature felt like it was in the 30s. It had taken a while to warm up chugging up the first long hill.

It was the first time this season I’d been on this stretch of trail and I wondered if any well-shaded patches of snow had managed to survive on the north side of the crest near Mt. Baden-Powell. I doubted it. The Mt. Waterman ski area never opened this year, and there had already been several periods of warm weather. There would probably be some remnants of snow on the north side of Mt. Baldy.



It was PCT season. Islip Saddle is at about the 386 mile mark on the Pacific Crest Trail and PCTers hiking the trail from the Mexican border to the Canadian border usually do this section of trail sometime in May. There were a number of PCTers on the trail, including a couple of guys that appeared to be fast-packing the PCT. Their packs looked light, and they were really booking on the downhill west of Mt. Hawkins. (For well done, downloadable PDF maps of the PCT — with notes — check out Halfmile’s Pacific Crest Trail Maps and GPS Information.)

Although chilly at the start, the weather was near perfect for running and I had expected to see at least a couple of groups of runners training for the AC100. There were only about six or seven long run weekends remaining before this hundred miler. I did see one AC100 runner — twice. He was on day two of a three day Memorial Day training stint that would total some 90 miles. Now that is serious training!

Boney Mountain Eclipse Run

Narrative about 2012 solar eclipse

Some things in nature are supposed to be constant. The ground shouldn’t move; a mountain that is here today should be here tomorrow; and if skies are clear and blue, the sun shouldn’t grow mysteriously dim.



Imagine the consternation of our early ancestors, keenly attune to nature, feeling the sun dim and then looking for a cloud they could not find. There is still much of them in us. When the earth shakes or the sun fades, even moderately, we can’t help but react at the most visceral level.

While ee still can’t predict an earthquake with any certainty, we can predict eclipses. Fred Espenak’s NASA Eclipse Web Site includes maps and tables for several millennia of solar and lunar eclipses. Using the web site’s JavaScript Solar Eclipse Explorer you can find the solar eclipses that will be (or have been) visible at a particular location, as well as the type of eclipse, it’s magnitude, and when it will start, end, and reach its maximum. In 2002 I used the Eclipse Web site to plan a trail run to coincide with the June 10 solar eclipse. This afternoon I was doing another eclipse run — the north side loop on Boney Mountain.



Perched on rocky ledge on the western ridge of Boney Mountain, I watched as the light on the landscape became increasingly muted. At the eclipse’s maximum almost 80% of the sun’s area would be obscured and about 85% of its width. The descending veil was tangible. I could not only see it, I could feel it. Even though I understood what was occurring, and that it would not last, ancestral fears were welling up and whispering, “Something is wrong…”



As the time of maximum eclipse approached, bird songs increased as if it was dusk. The wind, which had been blowing in fits and starts began to blow steadily from the west. The temperature dropped another degree or two.

Once the eclipse’s maximum had passed, I continued to work up the ridge, enjoying the extraordinary light. I hoped my wife was getting some good shots of the eclipse in our backyard. Many eclipse viewers are so focused on the sky, they don’t notice the spectacular lensed images projected on the ground and elsewhere by sunlight filtering through trees. The gaps between the leaves of a tree work like a giant pinhole lens, with a focal length of many feet. In the case of the trees in our backyard this produced images of the eclipsed sun 10 inches or more in diameter. Lensed eclipse images were also projected by  sunlight filtering through the chaparral on Boney Mountain.

I topped out on the western ridge around 7:10 and jogged up to the high point between the western and eastern ridges. Across the way three fellow eclipse watchers were on Tri-Peaks, and it sounded like there was a party over on Sandstone Peak. Even with the sun low on the western horizon, you could feel its intensity returning. Only about one-third of the sun was now obscured, and minutes before sunset — about 7:43 — the eclipse would end.



Marine layer haze and long shadows were filling the valleys as I began the second half of my eclipse adventure — running down the eastern ridge and trying to reach the trailhead before it was pitch black. Much of the route was illuminated by the setting sun, and I was able to get past most of the technical running and down to the Danielson cabin site before it became difficult to see. Once on Danielson road the bright western sky provided enough light to run. I made good time down to the creek in Upper Sycamore Canyon and then pushed up the road to Satwiwa. Just enough light remained to run the connecting single track back to the Wendy Drive trailhead.

The Color of April Rain

Clearing rainstorm at Ahmanson Ranch

Usually April isn’t a particularly wet month in Southern California. Normal April rainfall at Downtown Los Angeles (USC) runs less than one inch —  0.91 inch by 1981-2010 standards.

Wednesday night into Thursday the third rainstorm of the month produced 0.49 inch of rain at Downtown Los Angeles. This increased April’s rainfall total to 1.71 inches and the Los Angeles water year total to 8.68 inches. That puts us at about 60% of normal rainfall for the water year.

The photograph is from a spectacular trail run yesterday afternoon at Ahmanson Ranch, about 25 miles WNW of Downtown.

After the Station Fire: Wildflowers Along the Gabrielino Trail

Bush poppy (Dendromecon rigida)

The bright yellow flower above is bush poppy (Dendromecon rigida). A fire follower, it’s blooming extensively in the recovering chaparral along the Gabrielino Trail between Red Box and Switzer Picnic area.

March snow and rain seem to have helped this Spring’s wildflower bloom. Since March 1 the Remote Automated Weather Station (RAWS) at nearby Clear Creek has recorded 6.5 inches of rain and NWS data shows Opids Camp has recorded 6.64 inches of rain. More rain and snow is forecast in the mountains this week.

Here are a few additional wildflower photos from this morning’s run in the Station Fire burn area:





Baby Blue Eyes




Chaparral Clematis




Wavy-leaved Paintbrush

Tapia Spur Trail Being Modified to Accommodate Multi-Use

Excavator on the Tapia Spur Trail

In addition to some melting white stuff that looked like snow and a mountain lion sighting, another surprise on my run last Sunday is that the Tapia Spur Trail is being reworked to better accommodate multiple user groups.



A little more than a mile in length, the Tapia Spur Trail connects Tapia Park to the group campground parking area in Malibu Creek State Park. This provides a linkage between the Backbone Trail and MCSP’s main trailhead and parking area, enabling a variety of hikes and rides, including the popular 14.5 mile Bulldog loop.

Modifications include restoring the trail tread, brush maintenance, swale crossings, smoothing the grade, changing the trail alignment to improve sight distance and grading, adding pinch points to slow cyclists, adding areas of retreat, and other changes. Here’s an aerial overview of the work being done (PDF) and a description of project (PDF).

According to Craig Sap, District Superintendent of the Angeles District of California State Parks, the work is expected to be completed during the first week of May. The trail remains open during the project.

Surprise on the Bulldog Loop

Brents Mountain, Malibu Creek State Park

BIG. That was my first impression when I saw the animal loping across the road. Quite a bit bigger than a coyote or bobcat, with a long black-tipped tail. It was a mountain lion, and it was reacting to me before I’d even seen it. Had I rounded the corner a couple seconds later, I never would have known it was there.



I was on Castro Mtwy fire road, between the top of the Bulldog climb and Corral Canyon Road. Just a few seconds before I’d been kneeling on the ground photographing snow pellets (graupel) along a road cut. I’d just started to run again when I saw the lion. It was 40-50 yards away and crossing the road left to right, diagonally down the road. It seemed interested in avoiding me, and I reinforced this idea by clapping my hands and yelling. It was moving at a speed that fit the situation — faster than a walk or trot, but by no means wasting energy or overly concerned. I watched as, like a ghost, it disappeared into the thick chaparral along the south side of the road.

I didn’t want to overreact. Although we usually don’t see them, anyone that runs in the open space areas of the West has likely been watched by a mountain lion. Attacks are extremely rare and often have extenuating circumstances. Even for someone that spends a lot of time outdoors, there are much higher risks in their lives, such as driving to the trailhead. And there are other risks on the trail. Two of my trail running friends have been run down by startled deer, and I was nearly trampled when I spooked a band of horses grazing in a natural cul-de-sac!

In this particular set of circumstances I didn’t think it would be any more dangerous to continue down the road than to retreat. If the animal was interested in me it wouldn’t matter which direction I went. The Corral Canyon parking area was about a half-mile away, and chances were good there would be hikers there.

But it was going to be unnerving to pass the spot where the lion had gone into the brush. For sure I was not going to run past the spot — as any owner of a cat knows, that can elicit a response. Had I seen a stout stick or branch nearby I would have grabbed it. Not only for defense, but to look bigger.

I jogged down the road a little further and stopped. On max alert and facing the threat, I walked past the point where the lion had entered the brush. Once past this point, I began to walk a little faster, constantly checking the road and brush to the side and behind me. After about 50 yards I transitioned to a slow jog, and sometime after that resumed my normal downhill pace, all the time being very wary of any sound, noise or motion behind me.

One car was parked at Corral Canyon, but its owner was nowhere to be seen. Still on edge, I continued on the Backbone Trail into the rock formations east of the parking area, and then past the rock gateway onto Mesa Peak Mtwy fire road. The farther I got from where I’d seen the lion the better I felt. I really didn’t think the lion was interested in me, but was still glad to have the Corral Canyon parking area between me and the cat.



As I ran along Mesa Peak fire road, I started to calm down. I had just passed the “Morrison” caves and rock spiral and was rounding a corner when, without warning, there was a blur of brown from the left. Three deer bounded across the road just feet away. Put my heart back in my chest!

Deer are very common in Malibu Creek State Park, but I normally see them in the grasslands down in the valley. This morning I’d seen deer tracks going up Bulldog. Whenever I see deer tracks it’s a reminder there might be a mountain lion in the area. That was certainly the case this time!

Related post: Mountain Lion Saga