After the Station Fire: Contact Dermatitis from Eriodictyon parryi – Poodle-dog Bush

Poodle-dog bush Along the Silver Moccasin Trail at Shortcut Saddle
Poodle-dog bush Along the Silver Moccasin Trail at Shortcut Saddle

I knew Poodle-dog bush* was a common fire follower, but had never run or hiked through a burn area where it was abundant. Wow, it was everywhere on the Red Box – Bear Canyon – Gabrielino Loop last Saturday, and particularly dense on sections of the Gabrielino Trail between Switzers and Red Box. It appears to be one of the most common fire-followers in the Station Fire burn area, and likely plays an important role in the recovery process.

Gland-tipped hairs on Poodle-dog bush leaves
Gland-tipped hairs on Poodle-dog bush leaves. Click for larger image.

Gland-tipped hairs on the plant secrete a sticky substance that causes a rash “like poison oak” in sensitized persons. I thought I wasn’t sensitive to the plant, because I had brushed against the leaves of Poodle-dog bush before without reacting to it. This time my exposure was repeated, frequent, and prolonged; and the leaves were heavily coated with exudate. At the end of the loop my legs and forearms were coated with a thick layer of resinous brown gunk that would not wash off with water.

Trail dust and other debris caught on a sticky Poodle-dog bush leaf
Trail dust and other debris caught on a sticky Poodle-dog bush leaf. Click for larger image.

By the time I had finished the run, talked to some people at Red Box, and driven home, 2-3 hours had passed. Tecnu helped remove the resinous goo, but as I would discover a couple of days later, it did not prevent me from getting the rash.

My reaction to Poodle-dog bush was quite a bit different than what I’ve experienced with poison oak. A blotchy red rash developed on my arms and legs Monday, about 48 hours after exposure. After another 24 hours I thought the rash was going away, but it was actually morphing into a more widespread and uniform inflammation that was similar to bad sunburn — a very itchy sunburn. There was some swelling and edema, particularly on my ankles. In the areas that had the most contact with the Poodle-dog bush, primarily my shins and around my knees, there was some blistering. The blisters were small, perhaps 1/16 inch in diameter or less.

Flowers of Poodle-dog Bush (Eriodictyon parryi) near Three Points
Flowers of Poodle-dog Bush near Three Points

Most of the blisters were gone by Thursday afternoon, and since then the inflammation has been slowly subsiding. Although very itchy and annoying at times, it has not been debilitating. An equivalent exposure to poison oak would have been much more severe. However, in my case an underlying irritation or sensitivity has lingered for some time after the visible reaction dissipated. It seems like it will probably take a few more days for the reaction to completely resolve. We’ll see!

Update July 12, 2011. My reaction to Poodle-dog bush cleared after about two weeks. A running friend who recently did some trail work removing Turricula on the Kenyon Devore Trail sent this photograph of a blotchy red rash that developed on his forearm. He first noticed a reaction four days after doing the trail work, and the photograph was taken 10 days after exposure. As in my case, several hours later he commented that the blotchy rash had merged into a more general inflammation with swelling.

Poodle-dog bush leaf arrangement
Poodle-dog bush leaf arrangement

Research has found the dermatitic agents in the Poodle-dog bush exudate are “phacelioids,” hydroquinone based compounds structurally related to poison oak/ivy urushiols, but not as active. In one study the amount of the phacelioids in Poodle-dog bush required to produce a qualified reaction was 100 times that required for a component of urushiol from poison ivy — 170 µg vs 1.6 µg.

It is also noted that in place oxidation of hydroquinone based phacelioids is likely necessary to interact with the proteins of the skin and produce a reaction. This (and common sense) suggests that leaving the Poodle-dog bush exudate on your skin for several hours (like I did) is probably a bad idea.

For more information see:

Contact Dermatitis From Eriodictyon parryi: A Novel Cause of Contact Dermatitis in California. Christopher D. Czaplicki,  Wilderness & Environmental Medicine, 2013; 24(3):253–256

Prenylated Phenolics that Cause Contact Dermatitis from Glandular Trichomes of Turricula parryi. G. W. Reynolds, P. Proksch, E. Rodriguez, Planta Medica, 1985; 51(6): 494-498

Unusual contact allergens from plants in the family Hydrophyllaceae. G. W. Reynolds, W. L. Epstein, E. Rodriguez, Contact Dermatitis, 1986; 14:39-44

The book Poisonous plants of California by Thomas C. Fuller, Elizabeth May McClintock (1986) describes a 1941 incident in which hairs from old flowering stalks “easily broken from the stems” caused a rash, but flowering plants the previous year did not.

*The taxonomic name for Turricula parryi (Poodle-dog bush) has changed to Eriodictyon parryi. The Jepson Manual: Vascular Plants of California, Second Edition (2012) has returned Turricula to the genus Eriodictyon, as originally described by Gray. According to the Wikipedia entry for Turricula (April 11, 2012), “… molecular phylogenetic analysis carried out by Ferguson (1998) confirms that Turricula should be treated as a separate genus within a clade (Ferguson does not use the term “subfamily”) that includes Eriodictyon, and also the genera Nama and Wigandia; Eriodictyon is the genus to which Turricula is closest in molecular terms, and is its sister taxon.” I use “Turricula” and “Poodle-dog bush” interchangeably as a common name.

Related post: Getting Over Poodle-dog Bush Dermatitis and these additional posts.

After the Station Fire: Red Box – Bear Canyon – Gabrielino Loop

Recovering chaparral and bigcone Douglas-fir in Bear Canyon 19 months after the Station Fire

Recovering Chaparral and Bigcone Douglas-fir in Bear Canyon

Most Southern Californians have direct experience with wildfire and its effects. Wildfires are often described as being a “natural part of the ecosystem,” but in Southern California wildfire is anything but natural. Urbanization, land management policies and firefighting practices shape fire frequency, behavior, intensity and effects — often with unexpected and tragic consequences.



According to InciWeb, the Station Fire started on Wednesday August 26th, 2009 at approximately 03:30 p.m. and was fully contained at 7:00 p.m. on Friday, October 16, 2009. Two firefighters were killed in the arson caused blaze, numerous homes and structures were lost, and 160,577 acres burned. The fire was the largest recorded in Angeles National Forest since it was established in 1892 and the 10th largest fire in California since 1933.

In January 2011 the Station Fire Closure was updated and extended to January 2012. At that point, it looked like it might be a long time before any substantial part of the closure area would be opened to the public. But with increasing public pressure to open more of the Forest, Angeles National Forest reopened about half of the Station Fire Closure area earlier this week. Today I did a run/hike in the newly opened area to see first-hand how recovery from the fire, and subsequent debris flows and flash floods, is progressing 19 months after the fire was contained.

The first areas I wanted to check were Bear Canyon, and upper Arroyo Seco from Switzer Falls to Red Box. I’d done loops through these areas in April 2009, a few months before the Station Fire, as well as in March 2007 and November 2005. Because Mueller Tunnel was closed, I couldn’t do the same loop as in 2009, but I could bypass the tunnel using the Mt. Disappointment Trail, and then drop down into Bear Canyon from the Mt. Lowe Truck Trail. From there the loop could be completed by following the Gabrielino Trail from near Switzer Falls, back to Red Box. After checking with the Forest Service that all of the trails were open, the loop was a go!



I’d done all the sections of the loop on previous runs, and was familiar with the trails and terrain. My intent was to follow the routes of pre-existing trails as closely as possible. Just in case, I took a paper map; and as a backup and source of extra info, I loaded my GPS with the track points of the trails. It turned out the GPS did help a couple of times to follow missing or overgrown sections of trail, but there was also more than one instance when blindly following the GPS would have led me in the wrong direction.



At around 7:30 I left an empty Red Box parking lot and started running up the Mt. Wilson road. About 0.4 mile up the road I turned onto the San Gabriel Peak/Mt. Disappointment Trail and began working up toward the saddle between the two peaks. Nearly all of the trail to the saddle was unburned. The robust mix of chaparral and forest towered overhead, and a few minutes later I felt some anguish as I crossed the saddle and entered the burn area.

There was a little more debris than normal on the rocky stretch of the Mt. Disappointment Trail that crosses the west face of San Gabriel Peak, but the trail was mostly runnable, and it didn’t take long to get down to the Mt. Lowe Truck Trail fire road. At Markham Saddle a DANGER sign marked the closure of the road to Mueller Tunnel.



Turning in the opposite direction, I started running down the fire road, and after a short distance, stopped to take photos of the Bear Creek drainage. It looked to be in pretty good condition, considering. The side canyons didn’t have the runnels and debris flows I’d seen in upper Arroyo Seco on the drive up Hwy 2. I’d be getting a closer look at those channels later in the run.



At the hairpin turn west of Mt. Lowe I left the fire road and picked up the trail that leads down the ridge to Tom Sloan Saddle. It had taken about an hour and a quarter to get to this point, and I suppressed an overly optimistic thought that I might reach Red Box by noon or so.

As would be expected with little or no use, two seasons of growth, and a wet winter, sections of the trail were really overgrown. The upper part of the Bear Canyon Trail was also significantly overgrown, and in a couple of places difficult to follow. It helped that animals had used the trail, though their path through the grass was indistinct. Trails are valuable resources that can be lost through prolonged closure and disuse.



Once down to Bear Creek, the character of the canyon was much the same as before the fire. Bear Canyon is one of the more wild and isolated places in the San Gabriel Mountains that can be accessed by trail. Not far beyond the old cabin site, I paused by the creek and absorbed the sounds, smells and scenery of this special place.



The creek was incised in places, and there was other evidence of moderately high flows in the two years since I had been there. Very little remained of the use trail. The remnants of the old Tom Sloan trail are still there, but these are few and far between. There were more fallen trees, and a ton of poison oak. It was time consuming to try and dance around the poison oak, and about halfway through the canyon I gave up trying. Bear Camp appeared to be unscathed, and looked much like it did in 2009.



It took twice as long to work through Bear Canyon as in 2009, and I was happy to get to Bear Creek’s confluence with Arroyo Seco. Except for a couple of fallen trees, it was straightforward getting back to the Gabrielino Trail and to the Switzer Picnic Area. The bridge at the picnic area was littered with flood debris. The high water likely occurred during our record-setting December 2010 rain event.

It was a close call, but no doubt due to the efforts of firefighters, Switzer Picnic Area appeared to have survived almost unscathed. The Forest Service has made a number of improvements to the facilities. According to a Forest Service press release, the picnic area will remain closed until sometime in June, while construction is completed.



The first two miles of the Gabrielino Trail above Switzer really took it on the chin. The fire effects there were very pronounced, and of all the trails in the loop, that segment was the most severely affected. Flash flooding and debris flows have swept the canyon, obliterating sections of trail. The rest is very overgrown. Virtually every tributary canyon is now incised with debris flow runnels, up to several feet deep.



Once away from the canyon bottom and on the old road bed the trail was still overgrown, but was generally in better shape and easier to follow. The last mile to Red Box was nearly in the same condition as before the fire, and the last half-mile (where some trailwork had been done) even better!

In the last decade I’ve followed the recovery and studied aspects of several fires including the 2002 McNally Fire, 2002 Curve Fire, 2003 Simi Fire, 2005 Topanga Fire, 2006 Day Fire, 2007 Corral Fire and 2008 Sesnon Fire.  Even after having observed it many times, I continue to be amazed at the resilience of fire-adapted ecosystems. As long as the fire recurrence interval isn’t too short, nature seems to do a pretty good job of recovery.

Related post: Contact Dermatitis from Turricula parryi – Poodle-dog Bush

May Day Morning

Canyon sunflowers in upper Las Virgenes Canyon

These canyon sunflowers were along the trail in a pretty oak woodland area of upper Las Virgenes Canyon.

I had been kneeling when I took the photo, and as I stood up, turned off the camera and started to take a couple of strides up the trail, was startled to see the large white face of a barn owl headed toward me. The bird wheeled and turned in a patch of sunlight, showing its broad wings and exquisite apricot-orange coloration. Silently, it flew to a nearby tree.

I was a little surprised it had not flown farther away and looked to see if I could get a photo. Nope — the owl had had enough, and flew to a more distant tree. At that instant a small squirrel came scrambling down the oak branch from where I had first seen the owl fly.

I apologized to the owl, told the squirrel he owed me one, and continued up the trail.

Related post: Hawk, Bobcat, and Rabbit

Mt. Waterman Pines & Clouds

Last Sunday started with light rain in western Los Angeles County, and on the drive to the San Gabriel Mountains, I wondered if the Three Points trailhead would be above the mile deep cloud layer. It was, but barely so, and at the start of the run a couple of scuddy clouds hung over the parking lot.



These were soon left behind, and while the lowlands dealt with damp, dreary weather, my Easter morning run on the PCT continued toward Cloudburst Summit under a bright sun and mostly cloudless skies.

I encountered my first patch of snow a little past Camp Glenwood, on a shaded north-facing slope at about 6300′, nearly three miles into the run. With the above average snowpack, it would have been a surprise not to find some patchy lower elevation snow. Much more snow could be seen on the higher elevation slopes, and the big question was: how much snow would there be on the Mt. Waterman trail?

From Cloudburst Summit I continued eastward on the PCT to Cooper Canyon — one of the most idyllic places in the San Gabriel Mountains. Snowmelt had increased the streamflow, and to start the climb to Buckhorn, two creek crossings were required. It was cool enough that if I could avoid it, I didn’t want to soak my shoes. On the other hand I would rather have wet shoes, than fall bodily into a creek trying to keep them dry. A makeshift trekking pole helped prevent either scenario. Cooper Canyon Falls was spectacular.



On a Summer day this route can be quite warm, and I usually top off my Camelbak at Buckhorn Campground. Good thing it was a cool day — Buckhorn Campground was closed and the water in the campground was turned off. It looked like the Forest Service was doing a major revamp of the campground.

From the campground I still couldn’t tell if the Mt. Waterman trail was going to go. There was a lot of snow on the north-facing slopes, but I was betting it wasn’t going to be as choked with snow as it looked. Worst case, I could turn around, so I decided to continue until there was some reason not to.

There was some snow, and at one point I left the trail to avoid a particularly steep snow slope. About a mile from Hwy 2, the trail worked up onto a broad east-facing ridge, and from that point the trail was mostly free of snow.



No sooner had the snow issue been resolved, when clouds began to spill over the ridges and increase overhead. I knew — or at least thought I knew — that other than decreasing the visibility and temperature, these clouds shouldn’t be a problem. Even so, I was very glad to know the terrain and route well, and have some additional gear in my pack.

The title photograph is from the upper section of the Mt. Waterman trail. The clouds are in the deep canyon between east ridge of Waterman Mountain (8038′) and Twin Peaks (7761′).

Some related posts: Cooper Canyon Cascade & Falls, Manzanita Morning

Wow, What a Great Day for a Trail Run!

Ridge near summit of Tri Peaks

The Wendy Dr. trailhead in Newbury Park is a gateway to some of the most scenic and spectacular trail runs in the Santa Monica Mountains. Runs, hikes and rides on the extensive and diverse network of trails can range from a few minutes, to many miles and hours.

Today my run was of the “few hours” variety. The weather in Pt. Mugu State Park was perfect for a longer run — partly cloudy, light winds, and the temperatures ranged from the high 40s in the morning to the high 60s midday.

La Nina or El Nino, rain seasons as wet as the 2010-11 season are relatively rare. The wet weather produces a cascade of effects, resulting in conditions that might not be seen again for years. Streams that had not run for years were flowing; numerous wildflowers were blooming; the chaparral and other plant communities, and their inhabitants, were flourishing. I did not want to miss anything.

With that thought in mind, my route took me up and over Boney Mountain and Tri Peaks to the Backbone Trail, and then down the Chamberlain Trail and Old Boney Trail to the Serrano Valley Trail. After running through resplendent Serrano Valley, I continued down Serrano Canyon, crossing the creek 15 times, all the while trying to avoid the lush growth of poison oak along the trail. Even the miles returning up Sycamore Canyon were enjoyable, and involved a few stream crossings. The Upper Sycamore Trail and Danielson Road led back to Satwiwa and the trailhead.

On this particular day it was as fine a trail run as I have done, and probably the most scenic loop I’ve done in the Santa Monica Mountains.

Some related posts: Western Rim of Boney Mountain, Conejo Valley Sun and Boney Mountain Clouds

Here are a few additional photographs from the run:





Boney Mountain NW Ridge




Chamberlain Trail




Serrano Valley Loop Trail
                  
Fuchsia Flowered Gooseberry




Puffball




Hummingbird sage

Looking for Snow in the Santa Monica Mountains

View from Sandstone Peak, the highest point in the Santa Monica Mountains

Perhaps the only thing more difficult than forecasting rain in Los Angeles is forecasting snow in Los Angeles. A NWS Winter Weather Advisory issued Friday evening for the Santa Monica Mountains Recreation Area forecast the snow level to drop overnight from above 3000′ to between 1000′ and 1500′. Snow accumulations from 1 to 3 inches were expected.

When getting ready for a run on those searing 100 degree days at Ahmanson Ranch, I look longingly at the Lasky Mesa snow photos from 1943 displayed in the information kiosk at the Victory Trailhead. Would that rare snow scene be repeated? If so, I wanted to see it. I’m a skier from way back, but snow in the hills near my Los Angeles area home is an altogether different thing.

Last weekend it looked like we might get some snow on the higher parts of Rocky Peak Road for the Bandit 15K/30K/50K trail runs. There was some snow on Oat Mountain, but not down to Rocky Peak. The Rocky Peak area is about 500′-1000′ higher than Lasky Mesa, so snow there isn’t quite as rare. The last time I ran in the snow on Rocky Peak Road was in December 2008, and before that in March 2006.



Snow is an iffy thing in the Los Angeles area. The ocean is the dominant moderating influence. Storms generally bring in air warmed by the ocean, and the coldest air often doesn’t move in until after most of the precipitation has ended. To get low elevation snow, the timing and conditions have to be just so. Whether it snowed or not, it looked like it would be an interesting weather day, so I planned to get up early and do a morning run.

At dawn the lack of snow on the local foothills made it plainly evident that all the ingredients required for very low elevation snow had not come together.  Overnight there had plenty of snow — four feet of it at 7500′ at Mt. Baldy — just not much low elevation snow. (Later in the day post frontal convection would produce some isolated showers of icy snow in the east San Fernando Valley and La Crescenta.)

On the off chance there had been a dusting of snow at the higher elevations of the Santa Monica Mountains, I decided to do the Mishe Mokwa – Backbone Trail loop and check out the conditions on 3111′ Sandstone Peak, the highest peak in the range.



What a great morning for a trail run! When I started the loop, it was partly cloudy and the temperature at the Mishe Mokwa trailhead (el. about 2100′) was a chilly 37 degrees. The ground was soaked, and the chaparral wet with rain. Streams filled every gulch and gully, and the gorge along Echo Cliffs roared with runoff. Level sections of the Mishe Mokwa Trail were nearly one continuous puddle. Two creek crossings — one at Split Rock and another near the Backbone Trail — were wide enough to require wading.

Running the rocky trail with care, it took a little under an hour to reach the Backbone Trail junction. As I puffed up the trail toward Sandstone Peak, each exhalation was visible. I found myself reveling in each frosty cloud, as it would hang briefly in the morning sun, and then dissipate.

Although I could see no snow, it was cold enough that I thought there was a chance there might be some residual snow in the shade on the northwest side of the peak. Rounding the corner, I started up the makeshift stairs at the beginning of the spur tail leading to the summit. On top it was cold, windy, wet and spectacular, but — sigh — there was no snow.

Note: The rain from this storm pushed the water year rainfall total for Downtown Los Angeles to above the 100% mark. Although this might seem unusual in a La Nina influenced rain season, during two of the strongest La Ninas in the past 60 years — 1955-56 and 1973-74 — Los Angeles recorded 99% and 106% of normal rainfall.