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

Blame it on Cristina

View of Bench, Matlock and Slim Lakes from the north face of University Peak.

We were making good progress up the gargantuan north face of University Peak (13,632′), climbing carefully and doing our best not to knock loose rocks down on each other’s heads. We were also doing our best to ignore the gathering clouds — and the unnerving rumble of distant thunder.

Yes, it would have been better to sleep at the trailhead and get an early start. Especially with a 20% chance of isolated thunderstorms in the forecast. But we didn’t. When we should have been taking our first steps on the Kearsarge Pass trail we were eating breakfast burritos in Mojave. So it goes.

Now we were about half way up the 2200′ class 2-3 face, and it would take another hour of climbing to reach the summit. That would put us on the summit right around the time of maximum daytime heating — a bad time to top out if you’re trying to avoid a thunderstorm.

Off to the northwest there was another long, rolling, rumble of thunder. Streamers of rain could be seen twining from darkening clouds. Smoke from one or more of California’s many fires hung in the valleys to the west of the crest, producing an unnatural and eerie mixture of clouds, smoke, rain, and orange tinted terrain.

We paused in a jumble of broken blocks of granite, hemming and hawing, and otherwise hesitating to make THE decision to descend. Avoiding the issue and pondering the sky, we wondered which fire the smoke was coming from, and — half in jest — whether the smoke could have seeded and enhanced the thunderstorm we were watching. Those questions, it turns out, had surprising answers.

I had assumed the smoke was from one of the fires to the west. But this NRL Aqua-MODIS True Color satellite photo from 1:38 in the afternoon reveals the source of the smoke — it was from the Piute Fire between Lake Isabella and Tehachapi. The long plume of smoke from this fire feeds almost directly north into the large thunderstorm cluster near 37N and -118.5W.

From our vantage point on University Peak, the southern margin of this activity appeared to be about 6 miles away, somewhere near Gardiner Basin. This experimental NRL image shows the convection more clearly. Could this smoke plume have enhanced the storms over the Sierra?

The research article “Smoking Rain Clouds over the Amazon” by M. O. Andreae, et al, published in Science Magazine in 2004, and related research, suggests the possibility. According to that article, vegetation burning produces high concentrations of aerosols which are capable of nucleating cloud droplets. But, convective clouds forming in smoky air show substantially reduced droplet size compared to similar clouds in clean air. The reduced droplet size can delay the onset of precipitation, which in turn can result in enhanced convection.

So why blame the thunderstorm on Cristina? This NRL water vapor satellite photo from 3:30 p.m. suggests that the source of the moisture for the Sierra thunderstorms was Tropical Storm Cristina. An upper level low spinning off the coast had drawn the moisture up from the tropics and into the Sierra.

Related post: Thunderstorm, Shadow and Sun on University Peak (The north face is highlighted by the sun.)

September Storm

Rocky Peak road 

Los Angeles sometimes gets rain in September, but usually it is the result of tropical moisture from a dissipating hurricane, or perhaps the passage of the tail end of a weakening front. It is rare to see a low as cold, deep and energetic as the upper level low that deluged many areas of Los Angeles county Friday afternoon into Saturday.

Thunderstorms raked the San Fernando Valley Friday night, and several locations in and around the Valley recorded more than an inch of rain over the course of the storm. Los Angeles set a new rainfall record on Saturday, recording 0.40 inch of rain, and rainfall records were broken across the area.

In Southern California the first rain of the season often doesn’t occur until October or November and is always savored. Especially this year, when Los Angeles has recorded only 3.21 inches of rain in the last 15 or 16 months, and a developing La Nina threatens to put the kibosh on Winter rain.

I celebrated the rain by doing an out and back run to “Fossil Point” on Rocky Peak fire road. Based on the size of the mud puddles on the dirt road, this unseasonable storm appeared to be wetter than any in last year’s record dry rain season. Here’s a panorama of the view northwest from the fire road to Oak Ridge, the Santa Susana Mountains and beyond.

Some related posts: San Fernando Valley from Rocky Peak, Rainy Morning on Rocky Peak Road.

Mt. Pinos Improv

The plan had been to do a 2-3 hour run from the Chula Vista parking lot west over Mt. Pinos into the Chumash Wilderness, but due to the Zaca Fire, the trail/road to the summit of Mt. Pinos, the Vincent Tummawait trail, and all of the Chumash Wilderness were closed.

Improvising the best we could, we linked together some cross-country ski trails, use trails, a fallen tree, and the Mt. Pinos road, and were able to get in a good trail run.

Update Friday, August 31, 2007. In a press release dated August 29, 2007, the Forest Service announced that some areas within Los Padres National Forest east of Highway 33 that were previously closed to public entry because of the Zaca Fire would be reopened on August 30.

For more information regarding the Zaca Fire and related closures, see the Los Padres National Forest website.

Some related posts: Mt. Pinos – Mt. Abel Out & Back, Thunderstorm, Vincent Tumamait Trail

Mt. Pinos – Mt. Abel Out & Back

A trail runner nears the summit of Mt.Pinos.

This was my first time back to Mt. Pinos since being caught in a fierce thunderstorm last July. No thunderstorms this time — just wonderful running on the air-conditioned ridge between Mt. Pinos and Mt. Abel.

My route was the same as that described in the post Vincent Tumamait Trail. Here’s a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the route.

Related posts: Thunderstorm, Vincent Tumamait Trail

Garmin Forerunner 205

Updated Monday, July 5, 2010.

The Google Earth image above shows two GPS traces. Here’s a larger image. The red trace was created using a Garmin Forerunner 201, and the yellow trace was created with a Forerunner 205. The course is comprised of a mix of fire roads and trails, through a variety of terrain and cover. The better tracking of the Forerunner 205 is clearly evident. Here is another view of the same course with the two traces.

I’ve had my Forerunner 205 since March 2006, and in my experience, it is a huge improvement over the 201:

  • It is more compact and less obtrusive.
  • Tracks are more accurate, and it almost never loses reception.
  • It accepts routes for sequential navigation.
  • Uploading and downloading data is easier and faster with the USB interface.
  • The GPS chipset firmware (as well as unit firmware) can be updated.
  • It has multiple customizable data screens that are easily displayed during a run.

The performance of the GPS receiver in the Forerunner 205 continues to amaze me. It is tenacious. I was wearing the Forerunner 205 when I got caught in a fierce thunderstorm running in the Mt. Pinos area in July. Even in the middle of a thunderstorm, on a north facing slope, in a fir and pine forest, the unit did not lose reception. Here’s a Forerunner 205 trace of the run, exported from TOPO! Note that the traces going out and coming back very nearly overlay each other. The only exception is a real deviation between Sawmill Mountain and Mt. Pinos where I wandered off the trail to a minor summit. Also note that the trail is incorrectly marked on the topo map in the vicinity of Grouse Mountain.

In early October 2006, I had a problem with not being able to power on my 205 after it was charged. Garmin promptly replaced the unit, under warranty, without charge.

In June 2007 the replaced unit began to experience an intermittent issue where it would suddenly start to rapidly cycle through display screens, beep, and not respond to key presses. The only way to stop it was pressing the power + mode + reset keys. Garmin promptly replaced the unit, but charged a flat rate $79 repair fee. Oddly, when the unit was returned, the history included a few runs from the London, Ontario (Canada) area from late February and early March 2007.

It’s been over three years since the flat rate repair/replacement of my Forerunner 205, and I’ve had zero problems. One apparent improvement is that the contacts on the back no longer get corroded from sweat. This used to cause problems with the USB connection and transferring data, and I would need to clean the contacts from time to time with a pencil eraser.

In my opinion the Training Center Software is still poor, and for that reason I continue to use SportTracks.

Note: The course is the run from the end of Reseda Blvd to Trippet Ranch described in the post Musch Trail Mule Deer.