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.
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?
There was hardly any wind on the drive out to Azusa, and I wondered if the offshore wind event forecast to peak this morning was going to happen. But after winding up Highway 39 to the Windy Gap Trailhead, all doubts vanished. The wind was blowing in powerful gusts that shook the car and my enthusiasm.
Morning light on Islip Ridge
Not only was it windy, it was cold. I briefly debated going down to warmer climes — temps were forecast to be in the 80s and 90s in the valleys — but decided to at least run up to Windy Gap and see what it was like there.
As is often the case, once I got moving, it wasn’t too bad on the Windy Gap Trail. It was very windy in some spots and nearly calm in others – just what you would expect on the lee size of a mountain ridge. One thing was consistent — there was almost no sunlight on the trail.
Ribbon of sunlight on trees along the Windy Gap Trail.
I’d been curious to see how the run/hike to Windy Gap (7588′) from the Windy Gap Trailhead (5836′) in the Crystal Lake Recreation Area compared to starting at the Islip Saddle Trailhead (6650′) on Hwy 2. It turns out the distance using either approach is the same — a little over 2.5 miles. But, the Windy Gap Trailhead is lower, so starting there adds a little over 800′ of gain. Today, that extra gain was helping to keep me warm.
As I worked up the last long switchback I could see and hear the trees on the crest being buffeted by the wind. Reaching Windy Gap I’d was relieved to see that it looked the same as it always has. As shown on fire maps, Windy Gap was not burned in the Bobcat Fire.
Mt. Islip (left) from the Windy Gap Trail
That relief was short-lived as I was just about knocked down by a gust of wind. I’ve passed by Windy Gap many times, and the wind this morning was the strongest I’ve experienced there.
Later I found that several gusts over 50 mph were recorded at Chilao that morning. Because of terrain effects, I would not be surprised if the gusts at Windy Gap were 60 mph or more. The gusts were “stop you in your tracks, blow you over” strong. And it was cold. The temperature sensor on my pack read 34°F.
Twin Peaks and Mt. Wilson from the South Mt. Hawkins Trail
Out of curiosity, I ran a short distance along the PCT to see if conditions improved. That was a bad idea. I turned around and got the heck off the crest.
Running back down the Windy Gap Trail, I wasn’t ready to call it a day. It occurred to me that I could run down to the South Mt. Hawkins Trail — the old South Hawkins Lookout service road — and then run up to South Mt. Hawkins. Maybe the old road would be more wind-protected than the Windy Gap Trail.
Jeffrey pine cones along the South Mt. Hawkins Trail
And maybe not! Looking at the topography, I could not figure out why the wind on some sections of the South Mt. Hawkins road was so strong. Some gusts were as strong as at Windy Gap. The noise from the wind in the trees was deafening, and amplified my concern about falling trees and flying debris. I did not want to have a “Weather Channel” moment.
Although the wind was strong, the sun was now higher, and some sections of the road were warmed by the sun. This made a big difference. As I wound into and out of the side canyons, the temperature varied from the high 30s to the low 50s. In two places there were small, dirty patches of icy snow.
Ironically, the wind and temperature were relatively moderate on the summit of South Mt. Hawkins! After taking a few photos, I descended the “Ridge Trail” to the South Mt. Hawkins trail/road, and made my way back to the Windy Gap Trail and the trailhead.
Snow — if there has been snow — disappears quickly from the middle elevations of the San Gabriels this time of year. Activity increases with the rising snowline, as visitors eye their favorite trails and peaks.
I was driving up Hwy 2 to Three Points to do a run with Skye. In a normal year we would be doing the Three Points – Mt. Waterman Loop, but for the second time in 11 years, the trails in the Mt. Waterman area had been closed by a wildfire. In 2009, the Station Fire burned 160,557 acres in the San Gabriel Mountains, and just last year, the Bobcat Fire burned 115,796 acres. In several places, including Mt. Waterman, the Bobcat Fire burned terrain that had been burned in the Station Fire.
Coulter pine cone, heavy with resin
With entry prohibited in most of the Bobcat Fire burn area, the Three Points Loop around Mt. Waterman was out for now. Instead, we decided to do a segment of the traditional AC100 course from Three Points to Chilao, and then return to Three Points using the Silver Moccasin Trail.
On today’s run we followed the Pacific Crest Trail northbound from Three Points toward Sulphur Springs Trail Camp. Just before the camp, the PCT splits. We followed the left fork (uphill), and then around to the South Fork Little Rock Creek drainage and Sulphur Springs Road. The PCT parallels the road for about a half-mile, then crosses the road. At this point we left the PCT behind and continued up the road (5N04) to Alder Saddle and forest road 3N17. We continued left (south) on 3N17, bearing left on Santa Clara Divide Road at a fork, and going uphill to Rosenita Saddle.
At Rosenita Saddle we turned right (southwest) onto the Mt. Hillyer Trail. The trail starts at the back of a small parking area. The trail climbs to the high point of Mt. Hillyer, and then descends through large granite boulders in the Horse Flats bouldering area. (If you are a rock climber, bring your shoes!) The Mt. Hillyer Trail intersects the Silver Moccasin Trail near the Horse Flats Campground.
To add a little mileage and elevation gain, we turned right (south) on the Silver Moccasin Trail and continued to Chilao Campground. After saying hi to Chilao, we turned around and followed the Silver Moccasin Trail north, back to Three Points.
The trail run was a little over 13 miles, with a cumulative elevation gain of about 2100′. The high point was about 6200′, on Mt. Hillyer. The route-finding on the loop can be a bit tricky the first time around.
View west from Mt. Lukens, across the Crescenta and San Fernando Valleys.
It was a chilly 45 degrees in the canyon, and I had already resigned myself to having to wade across Big Tujunga Creek. But I didn’t even get my shoes wet. The water level was low enough that the large rocks placed across the creek were high and dry.
Low water made it easy to cross Big Tujunga Creek.
It was a good start to what was to be an excellent run and hike. As I gained elevation, it was evident there had been recent work on the trail. Trimmings from the brush along the trail were still green, and in several spots the tread had been freshly manicured. The higher I climbed, the more work had been done. In a couple of places, substantial washouts had been repaired.
Last year, the trailwork ended abruptly about halfway up the trail. Not so this year. An impressive amount of work had been done to clear the trail of a tortuous mix of dead scrub oaks and thorny brush. Without having to crawl over, around, and through those snarls, my roundtrip time to the summit and back was a full hour faster than last year. Many thanks to whoever worked on the trail!
Here’s an interactive, 3D terrain view that shows a GPS track of the route up and down the Stone Canyon Trail on Mt. Lukens. The view can be zoomed, tilted, rotated, and panned. Placemark and track locations are approximate and subject to errors.
