Chumash Trail Racers

Red coachwhip snake (Masticophis flagellum piceus) on the Chumash Trail, near Simi Valley, California.

Encountered this red coachwhip/racer (Masticophis flagellum piceus) as I was running down the Chumash Trail today. It was a long snake — at least 5′.

In June 2005, I found a California striped racer (Masticophis lateralis lateralis) on the Chumash Trail that appeared to have suffered some sort of fatal trauma. It was a much smaller snake than the red racer.

Note: There was a handwritten notice posted at the Chumash trailhead warning of a mountain lion sighting on July 18, 2008. I haven’t been able to obtain any additional details.

Western Tiger Swallowtail

A western tiger swallowtail butterfly on western columbine near Halfway Camp on the Vivian Creek trail on Mt. San Gorgonio.

A western tiger swallowtail butterfly on western columbine near Halfway Camp on the Vivian Creek trail on Mt. San Gorgonio.

A section of the trailing edge of the swallowtail’s right hindwing is missing — probably the result of bird predation. This did not seem to affect the butterfly’s flight. It still nimbly flittered from flower to flower.

From Saturday’s San Gorgonio Mountain – Falls Creek run.

San Gorgonio Mountain – Falls Creek Loop

Falls Creek trail on Mt. San Gorgonio.

Lowland blues got you down? Are you beginning to think faux pine tree cell towers aren’t that ugly? Do you gaze longingly at distant mountains and then realize you’re looking at a billboard?

When I feel that way, one of the close-to-home hikes/runs that satiates the alpine craving is the Falls Creek loop on Mt. San Gorgonio. The ‘Falls Creek up, Vivian Creek down’ route has been a high mountain favorite of mine for a number of years. It is as rigorous as it is beautiful. About 24.5 miles long, it gains approximately 6600′ on the way to the 11,499′ summit of San Gorgonio.

Even at 7:30 in the morning, the climb out from the Momyer trailhead on the steep, south-facing slope of Mill Creek canyon had been warm, but in about an hour we were in the firs and pines, and contouring into the shaded drainage of Alger Creek. Another 30 minutes and the trail has joined the route of the original Falls Creek trail — climbing to the eastern side of the divide between Alger Creek and Falls Creek and turning north as it entered the Falls Creek drainage. (A spur trail descends to Dobbs Camp.)


Small stream below Saxton Camp.
The trail up the Falls Creek drainage has few switchbacks and is deceivingly steep, but the segment is one I always enjoy. Near Saxton Camp its course works back into a lush side canyon, where it crosses an idyllic stream in a pastoral mountain setting. Above Saxton Camp, the area has an isolated, big sky, big mountain feel. Bright green slopes of manzanita extend upward for miles, and stale flatland sights, smells and sounds are displaced in favor of deep blue skies, the minty fragrance of pennyroyal, and the raucous shouts of Stellar’s jays.

Just get me to Dollar Lake Saddle… Please! I don’t know what it is about this section of trail, but the short 1000′ climb from Plummer Meadows to Dollar Lake Saddle is always tougher than I expect. Maybe it’s the altitude, maybe it’s the miles I’ve run during the week, or maybe it’s a gravity anomaly — whatever, it’s a relief to get to the saddle.


Lodgepole pine above the Jepson - Little Charlton Peak Saddle.
Above the saddle, the trail becomes more airy and alpine, and at times there are views of the summit area of Gorgonio and down Gorgonio’s north face. Adrenalin flows and the effort required seems to ease. Sometimes running, sometimes hiking, we continue up the rocky path.

About an hour above Dollar Lake Saddle, we jog across a nice flat stretch of trail just below Gorgonio’s summit. It’s around noon when Andrew and I weave our way through a final few boulders to the summit. Relaxing on the summit, we chat with others about their routes, and talk about running and the mountains.

In February, Andrew caught the trail running bug. In May he completed his first ultra — a fifty miler. Now he’s training to run the Angeles Crest 100 mile endurance run in September. Today’s ascent of San Gorgonio is the first of two long mountain trail runs he will do this weekend.

After about 15-20 minutes on the summit, we jog back to the Vivian Creek trail, jump on the escalator and head down. There are the usual stops to get water at Upper Vivian Creek (the last water was at Plummer Meadows), and to take a few photographs. There’s also a quick stop to have our wilderness permit checked.

Around 2:50 we’re off the mountain and crossing Mill Creek, and in a few minutes we’re running down the blacktop and back to Momyer.

Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the loop. Surprisingly, it is only about 1.5 miles shorter than the “high line” loop that ascends East San Bernardino Peak before traversing to Mt. San Gorgonio.

Related post: San Gorgonio High Line

Three Points Loop Plus Mt. Waterman

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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