Category Archives: trails|san gabriels

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Islip Saddle – Mt. Baden-Powell South Fork Loop

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View of the South Fork Big Rock Creek and Devil's Punchbowl from Mt. Baden-Powell.

Maybe it’s because it’s been in the news recently,  but when pondering how to characterize today’s trail run, I couldn’t help but think of the JFK quote, “We do these things not because they are easy but because they are hard…” This loop is arduous, adventurous, and challenging. While the difficulty of this route is one of the things that makes it interesting, it isn’t just the difficulty that makes it appealing.

Part of the appeal is the mix of trails and terrain, and the contrasting environments. The high point of the route is 9,399′ Mt. Baden-Powell. Cool, airy and alpine, it is the home of ancient Lodgepole and Limber pines. The low point of the route is 4,560′ South Fork Campground. On the margin of the Mojave Desert, it is often hot and sometimes torrid. Midday temperatures here can reach well over 100°F. The route encompasses life zones ranging from the Upper Sonoran to the Hudsonian, and passes through a variety of plant communities. The San Andreas Fault Zone runs along the base of the mountains, torturing the area’s rocks, and producing a complex and fascinating geology.


Erosion gulley on the Manzanita Trail.
From Islip Saddle the route descends the South Fork trail to South Fork Campground, then climbs 5000′ on the Manzanita and Pacific Crest trails to the summit of Mt. Baden-Powell. From here it follows the PCT back to Islip Saddle. In general, the part of the route that is on the PCT — above Hwy 2 — is well marked and maintained. However, on the South Fork and Manzanita trails — below Hwy 2 — you are on your own.

There are rock slides on the South Fork trail, and there are steep, washed out erosion gullies on the Manzanita trail. Recent thunderstorms have further damaged the eroded sections of the Manzanita Trail. In addition, the Manzanita trail crosses boulder-strewn washes that can make the trail difficult to follow. It is not a trail I would want to be on when there is heavy rainfall. The South Fork and Manzanita trails are part of the High Desert National Recreation Trail.

Google Earth images and KMZ files, and more info about the loop can be found in the posts Complications, Wally Waldron Limber Pine, and Heat Wave.

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Three Points Loop Plus Mt. Waterman

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If you spend much time in the mountains, sooner or later you’re going to get caught in a severe thunderstorm. I don’t mean you’re going to hear a little thunder and get a little wet. I mean you’re going to find yourself in the middle of a heart-pounding, ear-splitting, ozone-smelling, sense-numbing storm that drenches you through and through and wrings the nerves from your body.

Having been caught in such thunderstorms while climbing in Yosemite, running in the San Gabriels, and running at Mt. Pinos, I do my best to avoid the beasts. Sometimes, it is not an easy thing to do.

Take this weekend for example. I have a 50K race coming up, and in addition to increasing my weekday mileage, I needed to do a Sunday run of about 20-25 miles — preferably in the mountains.

The Sierra was out. A monsoon pattern virtually assured widespread, and possibly severe, thunderstorms. Some forecast models were saying that the focus on Sunday might be the Ventura County mountains, so Mt. Pinos — the site of my most recent thunderstorm adventure — was also out. Both San Gorgonio and San Jacinto had been hit pretty hard on Saturday. That left the San Gabriels, and thunderstorm activity was expected there as well.

The choices were A — get up really early and try to beat the heat and humidity and run local; or B — get up really early and try to get in a mountain run before the weather OD’d…

Running up the Mt. Waterman Trail, one of my ever-optimistic running partners voiced, “Hey, have you heard about the unusual number of lightning deaths recently?” So far it had been a spectacular day. A broken layer of mid-level clouds — remnants of yesterday’s storms — shrouded the sky. By keeping things a little cooler, the clouds had delayed the development of today’s thunderstorms.

We had started at Three Points and run up the Pacific Crest Trail to Cloudburst Summit, then down into Cooper Canyon, where we left the PCT and ascended the Burkhart Trail to Buckhorn Campground. In Cooper Canyon it was obvious there had been heavy rain the day before. Everything was wet, and the willows and lupines along the creek glistened in the muted morning sun. Rivulets of rainwater had incised rills in the trail, pushing pine needles and other debris into patterned waves.

I had already lost the “when it would start raining” bet. I had said 11:00. It was 11:00 now, and still there was very little cloud development. So little in fact, we decided to do a quick side trip to Mt. Waterman (8038′), and jokes were being made about the rain gear in my pack. (My GoLite 3 oz shell made a huge difference in the severe thunderstorm on Mt. Pinos.)

About the time we summited Waterman, things started to cook. The canopy of protective clouds was beginning to thin and dissipate and some cumulus cells were starting to build. I wondered if we would make it back to the car before it dumped.

We didn’t. About 30 minutes later, as we worked down the back side of Mt. Waterman toward the junction with the Twin Peaks trail,  we heard our first grumbling of thunder. In another 30 minutes it started to rain; slowly at first, with large icy drops, then building in intensity, as prescribed in long established thunderstorm protocols. Periodic claps of thunder echoed overhead, and to the north and east.

About 3 or 4 miles of trail remained. Here, the trail winds in and out of side-canyons and for the most part is well below the main ridge, but at some points it is very exposed. Minutes before, we had run past a lightning scarred Jeffrey Pine. Burned and blackened, the bolt had killed the tree. I pick up the pace and try to put the tree out of mind.

It rained hard for a while and then the intensity diminished. The air temperature didn’t drop and the wind wasn’t strong. It seems most of the lightning is cloud-to-cloud and away from us. I’m drenched, but happy — instead of being fierce and frightful, this thunderstorm has been almost puffy-cloud friendly.

In steady rain, we cross Hwy 2 and jog up the trail toward the Three Points parking lot (5920′). As we near our cars, we’re startled by a loud boom of thunder directly over our heads — a not so gentle reminder that thunderstorms come in all sizes, and none come with a guarantee.

Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of the loop, including the side trip to the summit of Mt. Waterman.

Some related posts: Manzanita Morning, Three Points – Mt. Waterman Loop

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Google Earth KMZ Files of Southern California Trail Runs

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Introduced around 2000, the Garmin eTrex was the first GPS unit I used to trace a trail run. The GPS tracks were imported into TOPO! where the length of a run could be measured, an elevation profile generated, and the topography of the run examined.

Since the eTrex was designed to be used in an “orienteering” position — flat in your hand in front of your body — it would frequently have trouble receiving GPS satellite signals if hand-carried while running or hiking. About the time enterprising hikers and runners began to resolve this issue with creative hats, holsters and harnesses, Garmin released the Forerunner 201, greatly simplifying the task of tracing a route.

In 2005, while preparing a presentation about kayaking Piru Creek for a meeting with the Forest Service, I stumbled onto Keyhole.com. To say I was blown away by this bit of “Eureka” technology would be an a gross understatement. Now, in addition to seeing Piru Creek in photographs, and on a topo map, you could get a “before you paddle” preview using Keyhole — even if you couldn’t paddle class IV whitewater! Google acquired Keyhole in late 2004 and launched Google Earth on June 28, 2005.

Shortly after Google Earth was launched, SportTracks added the ability to launch Google Earth and view the GPS trace of a run or other activity. Since SportTracks could also directly import data from Garmin’s Forerunner, the software made it very easy to view a run in Google Earth.

I’ve been working on updating the posts on Photography on the Run that reference a trail run to include a link to a Google Earth KMZ file. A KMZ file is just a zipped KML file, and either can be opened in Google Earth. A list of the trail runs with KMZ file links can be found by clicking “Google Earth KMZ Files of Trail Runs” in the sidebar.

These are actual tracks recorded by a GPS during a trail run and may contain GPS errors, route-finding errors, and wanderings that are difficult to explain. In a few instances tracks have been modified to correct errors, or to remove side excursions that are not part of the usual route, but not all errors have been corrected. No claim is being made regarding the appropriateness or suitability of the routes indicated.

photography, photography|landscape, running, running|adventures, trails, trails|san gabriels, weather, weather|southern california

San Gabriels High Five

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Snow on the Pacific Crest Trail west of Mt. Baden-Powell, May 18, 2008.

When considering where I might run this weekend, the words “snow” and “altitude” had a certain appeal. Record high temperatures had been set in the Los Angeles area on Friday and Saturday, and there was little doubt that more temperature records would fall today.


Angeles Crest Highway and the Islip Saddle parking area from the northwest ridge of Mt. Islip.
A couple of weeks before I had dodged a few remnant snow drifts on Pleasant View Ridge. From that vantage point you could see that there was much more snow on the steep, north facing slopes along the ridge between Mt. Islip and Mt. Baden-Powell. The S-shaped ridge spans a distance of several miles and links five peaks over 8000 ft: Mt. Islip, Mt. Hawkins, Throop Peak, Mt. Burnham, and Mt. Baden-Powell. Two of the peaks, Mt. Baden-Powell and Throop Peak, exceed 9000 ft. Today, the plan was to do these five peaks as part of an approximately 17 mile out and back route from Islip Saddle, enjoy the snow before it melted, and try to escape the triple digit temps of the lowlands.


Cabin on the summit of Mt. Islip.
Logistically, the difficult peak is Mt. Islip. While the other peaks can be done with relatively minor deviations from the trail, Mt. Islip stands alone, more than a mile from the PCT at Windy Gap. This time I opted to climb Mt. Islip from Islip Saddle via the northwest ridge. I’ve been investigating stunted Jeffrey and Sugar pines found along the windswept ridges of the San Gabriels, and this direct approach would give me the opportunity to check out more trees.

That was this morning, now I was on by way back from Mt. Baden-Powell, and about a quarter-mile east of Throop Peak. Hot, thirsty, dispirited, and nearly out of water, I had stopped to dig into the side of a dirty snowbank– attempting to get to snow that at least looked clean. The air temperature was eighty-something, but my fingers were stinging with cold as I scooped the coarse crystals into my Camelbak.

It’s amazing what a few sips of chilled water and an icy cold pack against your back can do for your demeanor. A few minutes before I had been debating whether I should just skip Throop Peak and Mt. Hawkins, and get down to Little Jimmy Spring ASAP. Now I could do these peaks and continue to enjoy a very warm — but beautiful — day in the San Gabriel Mountains.

Here’s a Google Earth image and a Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of my route. GPS reception was poor climbing the ridge to Mt. Islip.

Related post: Snowless San Gabriels

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Pleasant View Ridge Snow

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Snow on Pleasant View Ridge, in the San Gabriel Mountains.

A small patch of snow crunched under foot as I worked my way west along Pleasant View Ridge. Overnight the temperature had dropped below freezing, and careful route-finding was required to work around icy patches of steep snow clinging to the ridge. In other years this might be tedious, but after last year’s parched Spring, it was enjoyable to have to wind my way through the maze of rocks, trees, chinquapin and snow.

Most of the snow could be avoided by staying on the sunny side of the ridge. but in a couple of places it was easier to drop down and around large patches of snow on the north side of the ridge. The snow was rock hard, and I wondered if the descent from the highest point along the ridge was going to be a problem. There was little doubt that the north slope of peak 8248 would be snow covered. If the snow extended to the northwest ridge and face, I might have to turn back.

Fortunately, as the photograph above shows, most of the ridge was free of snow, and I was able to continue on the loop. It was great to have snow on the peaks and water in the creeks!

Related posts: Pleasant View Ridge, Peaks Along Pleasant View Ridge

Google search: $g(Pleasant View Ridge), $g(trail running), $g(San Gabriel Mountains)

photography, photography|trail running, running, running|adventures, trails, trails|san gabriels

Condor Peak Trail Run

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Trail runner on the Condor Peak Trail as it nears Condor Peak.

The temp was in the 30’s and it took a couple of minutes for my car’s engine to warm enough to thaw the coating of ice on the windshield. I was headed for a run in the San Gabriel Mountains and was wondering how cold it might be.

In a November in which 29 days had been bone dry, it had rained on the 30th, and temps had cooled dramatically. That was day before yesterday. This morning the sky was still a storm-cleansed blue, and except for a few passing high clouds, promised to stay that way. If the winds were not too brisk, it could be one of those invigoratingly crisp late Autumn days — cold in the shadows, but warm and pleasant in the sun.

About an hour later Miklos and I were working our way up the Condor Peak Trail (13W05), not far from the trailhead on Big Tujunga Canyon Road. At the parking area I had shed some extra layers and was now running in shorts and a light long-sleeve top. In the pack were an ultralight shell, gloves, and a headband.

About a 1/4 mile from the parking area we caught up to some hikers and their dogs. They asked us if we were headed “to the top.” I replied that we were doing Fox Mountain and Condor Peak, and would continue on to the Trail Canyon Trail.

“Do you have a car at the Trail Canyon trailhead?”

“Yep…”

“You know it’s 17 miles, right?”

“Yep…”

Twenty minutes into the run, we reached the point where the old trail jumps up from Big T and joins the main trail. From here we turned north, away from the highway, and began a long, winding, uphill course that would eventually reach the divide between Fox Mountain (5033′) and Condor Peak (5440’+). This meandering approach resulted in a very runnable section of trail that gains about 2500′ in 5.5 miles — an average 8.6% grade.

As the trail wound in and out of canyons, and from shadowed to sunny slopes, the temperature contrasts were startling. Within a few feet, we would stride from balmy, solar heated granite alcoves into frosty, refrigerated nooks near freezing. We estimated the difference in temperature to be 30-40 degrees.

Gradually we gained elevation, and in about an hour and a half we crested the broad divide at the base of Fox Mountain. From this point a short — but steep — path leads directly to Fox’s summit. 

Deep in morning shadow, the east side of the peak was cold! The ground was frozen, and heavy frost covered fallen leaves of chaparral. A few strenuous minutes and we were atop the peak, relishing the warmth of the sun and the panoramic view. Mt. Lukens, Josephine Peak, Strawberry Peak and Mt. Wilson loomed nearby. Further to the east, beyond Mt. Waterman and Twin Peaks, Mt. Baldy glistened white with a new coat of snow. Dressed for running, and damp from the climb, chill breezes hurried us from the summit.

Peak to peak the distance from Fox to Condor is over two miles. That’s what the map says, but on the ground Condor looks deceptively close. Several false summits amplify the deception, and many a hiker has been deceived. Even having viewed the route from Fox and climbed the peak before, I still did not fully appreciate the distance.

The scramble up Condor was a little longer than the hike up Fox. The peak has twin summits at very nearly the same elevation. We were curious which summit would have the register and found it on the more westerly summit. To do both Fox and Condor only added about an hour to our run.

Once down from Condor Peak it took about twenty minutes to hoof it over to the Trail Canyon Trail (13W03) junction. From here the trail drops about 3110 ft. in six miles. The grade of the trail is steeper than the Condor Peak trail, and a little more rocky and technical. Where the Condor Peak trail seeks the high lines, the Trail Canyon trail follows a creek and plunges into a deep riparian canyon.

Back at the car we marveled at what an enjoyable run it had been. The perfect weather and nearly ideal grade of the trails seemed to make the run almost effortless. It isn’t always that way.

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

Note: Although the Trail Canyon drainage is relatively small, it appears to have generated some sizable flash floods and debris flows. The canyon forms a huge southwest facing “rain catcher.” During Winter storms, the canyon wrings water from moisture laden wind as it is funneled into and up its slopes.