Sunrise on San Jacinto…almost

Time for what is now turning out to be an annual trip, backpacking San Jacinto. After checking in at the Ranger Station, I made the short hike up to Round Valley. I had hoped to camp at Upper Chinaquin, but someone beat me to it, so Buckthorn it was.

I was doing this trip a bit late in the season. I had hoped to do it a couple of weeks earlier, but the tram maintenance was extended, so I had to push back my date. Thankfully, the weather hadn’t turned, but I would be dealing with the sun setting around 6. After setting up camp, I made my dinner and opted to turn in early. This time I hoped to make the summit for sunrise, so that meant waking up around 4 am. I listened to a podcast for a bit, then fell asleep. When the moon rose around 2 am, I pulled my wool cap down over my eyes and drifted back to sleep until my alarm went off.

I made some coffee and ate some oatmeal. I debated bringing a slack pack or using my backpack instead. I opted to use my new Osprey Exos for my summit.

With my headlamp illuminating the trail, I began hiking the mile up to Wellman Divide at 5 am. I had hoped to start a bit earlier but got behind schedule. The climb went smoothly, during which I stopped briefly to gaze at the city lights to the southwest. I did not linger as I was racing the rising sun. I made decent time as I headed to the Miller Peak hairpin, but as I made my way, I could see the coming dawn off to the east, along with the lights of Palm Springs and the rest of the valley. It was simply stunning to watch, but I also knew that I was not going to make the summit before the sun rose. After the hairpin, I found a nice spot with a clear view of the east, took a break, and watched the sunrise.

The upside was the final boulder scramble to the summit wouldn’t be in the dark. As I was about halfway up, a young lady was making her way down. We chatted a bit before heading our different directions. Once at the summit, which had a sign this time, I snapped a few photos. One cool photo I took was the actual mountain shadow spread out to the west. I found a nice spot for a well-earned rest and unpacked my cool kit to brew up a cup of coffee. After my snack and warm beverage, I headed back down. Now it was my turn to meet someone at the base of boulders. Turns out she is a SOBO PCTer, who decided to add this summit. Most NOBOs skip it, as they are dealing with snow and ice when they are passing by. We parted company and I began wondering when I might encounter my first day hikers. I guessed it probably to happen just after the Wellman Divide, but a group of 5 young and strong hikers passed me about 1/4 mile before I got to Wellman.

As I made my way down from Wellman, I would encounter a steady stream of day hikers. Some asked about conditions at the summit, while others focused on the climb ahead of them.

Once back at Round Valley, I returned to my campsite to pack up my gear. As I cruised back to toward the tram station, the stream of day hikers continued. Soon, the Ranger Station came into view and I stopped to check out. After chatting with the Ranger a bit, I made the hard slog up the concrete switchbacks that lead to the tram station. With it being the weekend, trams were running every 15 minutes. I soon found myself tossing my gear into the Subaru and slipping on a clean shirt and some tennis shoes for the drive home.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. In 2019, I became the third person to complete the San Diego 100 Peak Challenge. Not stopping with that accomplishment, I set my sights on the harder San Diego Sierra Club 100 Peak list, which I completed in 2021. In addition, I have conquered several Six-Pack of Peaks challenges (SoCal, San Diego, Central Coast, and Arizona-Winter). Beyond attempting the San Diego Sierra Club 100 Peak list a second time, I am looking forward to exploring new summits and new adventures across the southwest.

Chicken Spring Lake

I had planned to do this solo overnight trip this past weekend, but that early snowstorm forced me to postpone it. Since the weather was looking much better for this weekend, I decided to make the drive up the 395 and try again. One of the questions I had was actually about the timing of getting to the trailhead at Horseshoe Meadows. I had three options:

Leave early Saturday morning (think 4 am), and drive straight to the trailhead,
Leave Friday afternoon, drive to the trailhead, and camp in my car at the Walk-In Campground, or
Leave Friday afternoon, drive to Ridgecrest, stay in a motel, then make the 2-hour drive to the trailhead on Saturday.

I ruled out option one. Since I was going solo, I did not want to deal with the combination of the drive and the hike in one day. Option 2 had some appeal, as since I would be at altitude, I could get some acclimation time in before I set off. In the end, finding a motel for $90 in Ridgecrest sealed the deal for option 3. I checked into the motel a bit after 5 pm, unloaded my gear, and set off to grab dinner. I knew exactly where I had to have dinner, John’s Pizza. For over 30 years, my dad was a Field Engineer for NCR, which meant he was the nice man who fixed that cash register or later, that ATM. One of the places he would have to drive out to for a service call was John’s Pizza in Ridgecrest. I made the short drive to the restaurant and ordered a beer, some breadsticks, and a pizza. I did not have the courage to order the Peanut Butter Pizza (yes, this is a thing and has been for decades). As I ate my food, I reflected a bit on my Dad and his impact on me. Back at the motel, I read a bit before turning in.

I awoke the next morning and grabbed a warm breakfast at the Denny’s before continuing on to Horseshoe Meadows. Turning off the 395, I could see the road snaking its way up the steep mountainside and began the long climb up from the floor of Owens Valley. Along the way, I passed two cyclists testing their legs and lungs climbing up the road. That would have been me 30 years ago… I pulled into the parking lot for the Cottonwood Pass Trailhead and began to get ready. Since this is active bear country, I placed my return drinks and snacks in a bear box, along with a few other scented items. No need to come back to a car that a bear had vandalized to get at something it saw or smelled.

With one last stop at the pit toilets, I set off along the flat but sandy trail to the west. The trail reached a junction with the trail leading south to Trail Pass, and north to Cottonwood Lakes. However, my destination lay off to the west, on the other side of Cottonwood Pass. For the first 2 miles, the trail hugs the north side of Horseshoe Meadows and it is pretty gentle in terms of elevation gain. The hike starts at just under 10,000 feet. This area is a popular area for hikers who are planning to ascend Mt. Whitney to the north to work on their acclimation. Temperatures were in the low-50s, so it was really pleasant hiking weather. After crossing a stream twice, I soon reached the end of the ‘flat’ portion of the hike and would start the ascent of Cottonwood Pass in earnest. One of the items that I was trying on this hike was a new, lighter backpack. I swapped out my Osprey Atmos 65 for an Osprey Exos 58. There is almost a 2 lbs. difference in the weight between the two packs. So far, the pack was feeling comfortable, so that was a good sign. Earlier, I chatted with a father and son who were returning from their trip (it turns out they were from San Diego), and when I left the parking lot, a returning hiker was also from San Diego (did I miss an email that it was San Diego weekend on Cottonwood Pass?). While chatting with the father and son, 3 horseback riders came passing through. I knew I would now need to be mindful of horse droppings on the trail as well…ssing through. I knew I would now need to be mindful of horse droppings on the trail as well…

I took the climb in a measured fashion, as I had no need to try to race up and over the pass. I would occasionally stop to snap a photo, usually looking back down toward Horseshoe Meadows (getting further and further away). I reached those riders again, just as they were finishing their break and returning to their ascent. I continued making my own ascent, sensing that I would soon be reaching the pass. Sure enough, I reached it! I found a nice spot, slipped off my pack, and broke out my lunch. A sweeping view to the west filled both my eyes and my soul as well. Just in front of me was the Pacific Crest Trail. I pondered all those hikers who have passed along this point. When I get home, I need to rewatch some of the YouTube videos of some of the thru-hikers I followed this year to see if they captured their passing. After a nice break, I set off for the final bit to Chicken Spring Lake.

Just as I reached the junction to Chicken Spring Lake, I spotted the horseback riders making their return from the lake, so I paused to let them pass. Then, two older hikers came down the PCT to the junction as well. They dropped their packs and took a short break. I spotted the PCT hiker tag on one of their packs and asked if they were SOBOs (SOuth BOund). Turns out, they were originally NOBOs but had been flip-flopping due to various closures, and the exit at Cottonwood Pass was their actual completion point! I congratulated them on their achievement! They were looking forward to a real bed, a lot of food, and some cold beer. I helped one lift their pack back on (arthritis in his shoulder, to which I can relate…) and waved them off. I walked over to the small rise to be greeted with Chicken Spring Lake before me. I had reached my goal for the day. I walked along the eastern shore, scouting out possible campsites. After passing a family of four, I found a nice spot to set up camp. I slipped off my pack and went about my chores. One of the new pieces of equipment I was testing was the Flextail air pump. Weighing in at under 2 oz., this little air pump quickly filled up my air mattress. Being at over 11,200 feet in elevation, not having to huff into a blow sack to inflate my sleeping pad made it all worth it. I made sure the stakes to the tent were very secure as I did not want a repeat of the events on San Gorgonio. I also brought along my portable CPAP unit, so I tucked that inside the tent as well. This would be the first time trying it out on an actual backpacking trip. I had used it before, but only when car camping.

After tucking my bear canister safely away from my tent, I decided to lie down and take a well-earned rest. That was part of the plan, to simply enjoy the destination… Feeling refreshed, I wandered down to the water’s edge to fill my CNOC water bag so I could filter water for later. I drank another .5 liter of electrolytes to hopefully prevent the cramping I had on my last overnight. I strolled along the lakeshore, enjoying the calmness it offered. As the sun continued to sink, I knew it was getting closer to making my dinner. Another new piece of gear I was testing was an insulated food bag from Big Sky International. This bag helps keep the heat from the food pouch in, thus aiding in rehydration, as well as just help keeping it warm. It was worth the $16 I spent on it! My lasagna stayed warm down to the last bite. I packed my food away for the night, along with anything else scented, and returned to my tent. The temperatures were starting to drop, and I broke out my down jacket. I watched the colors on the mountains above the lake turn into an amber glow as the day faded away. I crawled into my tent, turned on an audiobook, and relaxed. The new pillow, a NEMO Fillo Elite, was also working out well. Normally, I return my puffy jacket into the stuff sack I store it in, to act as a secondary pillow, but I was starting to really feel the chill, so I put it back on. My quilt is technically rated to 30°F, but I wasn’t sure what its comfort rating actually was. I still have to be mindful of my neck, so I folded up my seat pad that I use to act as my under pillow to get my neck angle just right.

The night continued to get colder, so I slipped on a pair of gloves I brought, as my fingers were getting pretty cold. I had turned off my audiobook at this point and was ready to plug my phone into the battery to recharge it, when I discovered its connector had been twisted slightly, making it impossible to plug a cable into it. I had already forgotten the cable for my Apple Watch. If needed, I could hopefully charge my phone using the CPAP battery in the morning. I drifted off to sleep, and the light breeze from earlier in the day had thankfully faded. From time to time, I would wake, usually from my feet feeling the chill. It was certainly cold. I would double-check that I was still properly tucked in, and would fall back asleep. I had wanted to step out at some point and take in the night sky, but it was just too chilly for me to leave my tent. Maybe if I had to answer the call of nature…

Around 5 am I awoke, as my CPAP had run out of battery. Normally, I can get almost two nights’ worth of power from the battery, but the cold had drained the battery. I closed my eyes again for a bit before climbing out of my tent. Since I did have a thermometer on my pack, I took a look at the reading, and it measured just above 30°F. None of my water froze, so I knew it did not get below 32°F. I wasn’t in a real hurry to leave, but I knew I did have a 5+ hour drive home. I made a hot cup of coffee and began packing up. I finished breakfast and a second cup of coffee and repacked my backpack. The family of four that I saw on the way to my campsite had already left, but a young couple was just getting their breakfast ready at one of the first sites I passed the day before. We chatted for a good while, shoeing away some rather aggressive squirrels trying to get into their packs. They were starting a multi-day trip that hopefully would include an ascent of Mt. Langley. I bid them farewell and began retracing my path. I had considered turning my return into a longer loop, passing by Trail Peak and descending via Trail Pass, but in the end, I opted to save that for another trip.

The descent went quickly. Along the way, I passed a collection of other backpackers setting off, or a few day hikers out enjoying the first days of fall. Soon, I was cruising along Horseshoe Meadow, and finally back at the trailhead. I grabbed my stuff from the bear box and enjoyed a cold drink while changing into some clean clothes for the long drive home. This was a great overnight trip, and one I plan to do again (probably turning it into a multi-day adventure if permits allow). I almost forgot to mention another new piece of gear I had for this trip was a 3D-printed holder for my Garmin InReach. OHM3 reached out to me via Reddit and sent me one. Their cradle worked really well. It was nice having my Garmin securely fixed to my pack and not flopping around as I hiked. The drive home was uneventful, except for seeing the large smoke cloud from the Line Fire that had flared up again.

Dry Lake

Secured another permit for an overnight adventure in the San Gorgonio Wilderness, to camp at Dry Lake. Ted Markus kindly decided to join me on this adventure. The plan was to hike up to Dry Lake, spend the night, hike up to the summit the following day, and then hike out. Initially, I was going to use my Osprey 34 Stratos as my pack, and while everything fit (included the required bear canister), it was a tight fit. So, I switched to my Osprey Atmos 65, with plenty of room for all my gear, plus this pack is a bit more padded. The Atmos 65 has a removable top section, and since I did not need it, I left it behind for this trip. Meanwhile, Ted showed up with a massively loaded pack. Pack weight would be a discussion we would have throughout the trip…

We pulled into the parking lot for the South Fork trailhead, and quickly got ready to set off. I let Ted know that after the creek crossing at the beginning of the trail, we would have a steep, but thankfully short, section to climb. Once past that part, the climb became more manageable. At Horse Meadow, we took a short break, exploring the couple of buildings that remain. From there, we continued our climb to our next stop, Poopout Hill. We slipped out of our packs and enjoyed our lunches. San Gorgonio loomed in the distance with not a cloud in the sky, which was different from my last time here. Our next planned stop was at the junction for Dry Lake and Dollar Lake. We passed a returning hiker from time to time, while I kept an eye out for the small tree I took shelter under during that thunderstorm. After thanking that little tree for its help during that downpour, we pushed on to the turnoff to Dry Lake. After a couple of small stream crossings, we found a nice log to rest upon and again slipped off our packs. I was feeling pretty good. The extra padding of the Atmos 65 was worth the slightly heavier weight over the Stratos. Next came the first real challenge of the hike—crossing the actual South Fork of the Santa Ana River. The water was flowing pretty good, and unlike the other water crossing, we had to scout around for a safe place to cross. I found a log upstream and we used it. Once across, we located the trail again and the final 1.6 or so miles to Dry Lake. Ted’s pack weight was taking its toll (and the altitude, as we were now over 8,200 feet in elevation), so we took some short breaks from time to time. Finally, Dry Lake came into view and we had reached our destination. We circled around the lake to the south side to locate a campsite for the evening. We found a nice spot where we could pitch our tents in the sandy soil.

We took a short walk over to Lodgepole Spring to filter some water and fill the CNOC for later. After dinner, we settled in for the evening. Ted was beat from all that weight he hauled, and I wanted to have a good night’s rest before setting off for the summit in the morning. As I lay in my tent, the winds began to pick up. I hoped the weight of the rocks I had placed on my tent stakes would be enough to keep the tent from collapsing. Around 10pm, a strong gust blew through, and one side of the tent came falling onto me. I climbed out of the tent, flipped on my headlamp and staked down that guideline again, adding another rock to keep it in place. After crawling back in, I lay there listening to the wind howl through the trees. We must have been having 25 mph winds. Then around 11, another very strong gust blew through, once again knocking the same stake free. Now adding a third rock, I crawled back in, resigned to the fact that I probably was only to be cat napping throughout the night. Whenever I heard the rush of wind coming, I braced that trekking pole to prevent it from pulling the stake free.

I dozed from time to time, and around 6:30 am, I crawled out in the pre-dawn light, with Ted emerging soon thereafter. He also did not have a restful night, so we both agreed to skip attempting the summit and to hike back out. After breakfast, we packed up our gear and hit the trail around 7:30. We hiked along the rest of the shoreline we had skipped on the way in. In addition to the two backpackers that arrived after we did, we spotted a few tents at some of the campsites along the northeast of the lake. A couple of those sites actually looked to have some wind shelters built from some logs. Good to know for next time. We cruised down the trail toward that challenging water crossing. Instead of the route we used the day before, I scouted downstream for an option. I found a spot that wasn’t too bad and made it across. I called for Ted to trek over to me. I also repositioned a log for him and he crossed without incident. We returned to the logs we stopped at yesterday, and shed a layer. After a snack, I mixed up some electrolytes (had some cramps overnight, so that is something I need to be mindful of in the future).

The rest of the hike back out went quickly, passing some day hikers heading out to enjoy the trail. When we stopped at Horse Meadow for a break, I called Anita to let her know that our plans had changed and I would be home much earlier. Back at the car, we dropped our packs and changed clothes. As we drove down the road, an insect flew in, landed on Ted’s neck. When he went to brush it away, it stung him! Thankfully, I had some ice in a hydro flask, so he was able to use that to ease the pain. After grabbing a hot lunch at The Oaks, we cruised back home. While I am bummed about not getting to the summit and the “joy” of the tent collapsing twice, the backpacking experience was still a great trip.

Stormy San Gorgonio

I scanned the skies as I shouldered my pack on my back. There were some possible rain clouds forming over the mountains around me, but the forecast from NOAA had the chance at about 30%, so I decided to set off for my overnight trip up San Gorgonio. I crossed the road and onto the trail to begin my 6-mile hike up to Dry Lake. The area burned back in 2015 in the Lake Fire, so the landscape is a mix of new undergrowth and burned trees waiting to fall.

I reached Horse Meadow Camp and made a quick stop to explore a bit, but I knew those clouds around me might become an issue so I pressed on. At the junction for Poopout Hill, a group of young backpackers and their chaperone were taking a break. I chatted with them briefly to learn they were aiming to camp at Dollar Lake. I made the short detour to Poopout Hill, took a break, and enjoyed my PB&J for lunch. Off in the distance, I could see the summit of San Gorgonio. I waited for the group to set off before returning to the main trail. After a bit I felt a few drops of rain starting to fall, so I slipped on my pack cover and had my jacket ready. Pressing on, I knew I was starting to get close to the junction where the trail splits, with the left fork up to Dry Lake, and the right fork onto Dollar Lake. Then, as the rains started to pour, I quickly slipped on my rain jacket and spied a small tree to huddle under to offer maybe just a bit more protection. Thunder began to echo across the mountain and the rains continued. Then a flash of lightning darted across the skies, followed by hail! I had leap-frogged those young backpackers, and they came trundling past. One of them was using their tent’s rainfly as a poncho. I was fine huddling here, hoping the rain showers would be brief. After about 20 minutes or so, and no sign of it letting up, I broke open my bivy to act as my additional layer of protection. I wasn’t 100% certain that my jacket was actually water-proof and was feeling a bit damp. I sat there for about an hour, listening to the storm continue on. When it finally eased, I grabbed my pack and headed back down the mountain. As I made my way down, parts of the trail had now filled with water. Since my shoes were already soaked, I just pushed on through.

Along the way, I passed several hikers making their way up. I think they either hung out at Horse Camp while the storm did its thing or, as one backpacker told me, stayed in the car. When I reached Horse Camp, I had a cell signal and called my wife to let her know about the change of plans, and while I was on the phone, another rain shower passed over me. This time I was safely under the cabin’s roof. After the rain stopped, I hiked the last mile to the car, looking forward to getting out of my wet clothes. As I drove home, I felt very confident that I made the right call to turn back. This trip was just one of mistiming. If I had started later or earlier I could have probably avoided the thunderstorm and had a great trip, but I didn’t. Hopefully, the next time I try backpacking San Gorgonio, the weather will be in my favor…

Sitton Peak Overnight

As I finished my water and put on my hiking boots, I looked at the thermometer on the car. It read 84°F. It was going to be a warm one hiking to the campsite this afternoon. Rather than hiking Sitton Peak as a day hike again, I had the idea of doing it as a short backpacking trip. The last time I had hiked the peak, I was specifically keeping an eye out for a possible campsite. Turns out, about 0.9 miles before the summit, there is a clear and wide area to set up camp. I had gotten my Wilderness Permit from the Ranger station a few days before, so I was able to legally spend the night in the San Mateo Wilderness. With 3.5 liters of water in my pack, I carefully and quickly crossed the highway. In some ways, this is the scariest part of the entire hike. I snapped a photo at the trailhead and then signed the trail register. With the warm temperatures, I focused on keeping a reasonable pace. I had a lot more weight on my back than when I usually do this hike.

As I came to the boundary with the San Mateo Wilderness, a small stream was still gently flowing. I was also enjoying all the wildflowers that were still blooming along the trail’s edge. That made the climb a bit more enjoyable. Once I reached the junction with Bear Ridge Trail and the Bear Canyon Trail, I knew I had earned a break. I had covered about 2.1 miles in just about 1:15. I sat under the shade of a nice oak tree and drank some water. I still had another 1.9 miles to cover, so I put my pack back on and set off. The trail was a touch overgrown, so I was glad I was wearing long pants. Once I reached the Four Corners, I looked for another spot for a short break. After a few minutes along the trail toward the summit, I found an acceptable spot for another break. The campsite wasn’t too much further, but I now needed to make a decision about setting up. One option was to simply unload my gear, and set up camp after I returned from the summit, or the other option was to properly set up camp first. I decided to do the latter. As I approached the saddle, I knew the site was just off to my left. I followed the use trail back just a few yards behind some bushes to the location I had scouted before and quickly set up camp. I am currently using the Gossamer Gear The One as my tent. For those who don’t know, this tent uses your trekking poles as part of the support structure. I was certainly going to need those trekking poles for my climb to the summit. I carefully removed them, letting the tent collapse. The test would be reinserting them after I got back. With a much lighter pack, I set off toward the summit.

Water was still seeping out at a few spots, even this late in the season. This was probably part of the reason I was wearing my bug net, and overgrowth at times was pretty significant. Nothing that truly blocked my path, but I certainly needed to take some care with my footing. At the turn-off, I began the steep climb to the top of the peak. The hike had taken a touch more out of me than I had hoped, so I just took my time. Once I reached the top, the soft evening sun lit up one of the summit signs that was perched on the register can. I dropped my pack and soaked in the view. The sun sat over the west, sinking slowly. I snapped a few photos before enjoying a summit beer and some snacks. While I had my headlamp in my pack, I had no desire to descend that steep 0.4 miles back to the main trail in the dark, so I left before the sun dipped beyond the horizon. A quarter moon was up, offering a touch of light, as the sun’s light faded. I reached my campsite just before I needed to switch on my headlamp. I changed out of my very damp hiking shirt and began making dinner. The bugs were still out, so I retreated to my tent to enjoy my dinner. After dinner, I finished getting ready for bed. I settled in, enjoying listening to Sir Patrick Stewart’s autobiography for a bit, before going to sleep.

I woke a bit before dawn when nature began calling. Since the forecast was going to be another warm one, I opted to pack up and hike the 3.9 miles back to the car. I really didn’t feel like making any coffee, so I just nibbled on my Nutri-Grain bar while I packed up. My tent had some condensation, so I was going to need to dry it out before I truly put it away. I caught the sunrise coming over the hills to the east and made sure I snapped a few photos for Ted as I cruised back along the trail. At Four Corners, I debated taking the Bear Ridge Trail back instead of the Bear Canyon Trail, but I left my wallet in the car and was a touch nervous about that. The cooler air that had settled along the Bear Canyon Trail was welcome, as I could feel the day warming up. I finally started to pass folks making an early morning attempt at the summit. Finally, the end of the trail came into view, and after carefully crossing Ortega Highway, I walked to my car, hoping that my wallet was still inside. Thankfully, it was! I changed out of my gear into something a bit drier and cleaner and began the drive home. All in all, this was a great overnight trip, and one I would do again, just when it is a bit cooler. One piece of gear I might bring next time is a chair. My only option at the campsite was my small seating pad, and that was it.

Corte Madera Overnight

Six weeks ago I had two vertebrae in my neck fused, and now I was about to set off for my first backpacking trip. In addition to the new hardware I was internally sporting, I was also testing out several new pieces of gear. I decided to switch to a Gossamer Gear The One tent, a NEMO Tensor sleeping pad, and replace my JetBoil with an MSR Pocket Rocket 2. All told I shaved about 2 pounds off my base weight. In addition, since this trip was so short, I opted to use my Osprey Stratos 34 pack instead of my bigger Osprey Atmos 65. That pack change took almost another 1.5 pounds off my base weight.

I pulled into the small pullout for Corte Madera in the mid-afternoon. One other car sat there under the warm sun. As I finished getting ready to set off, I drank the last of my pre-hike water. There are no water sources on this hike, so I was being mindful of my hydration needs. I closed the hatch of the Subaru and set off! The first part of the hike is along the road that leads off to several properties to the north. The shade from the oaks was certainly welcomed, as well as a light breeze. Once I reached the turn-off to the Espinoza Trail, I knew I was about to start gaining some elevation. Wildflowers would occasionally dot the side of the trail, making for a pleasant trek up toward the saddle. Once I at the saddle, I turned toward the hard part of the trail—the steep climb up and around Coulter Peak. Having done this peak before, I knew what lay ahead. At the split rock, I took a well-earned rest under the shade of some Coulter pines.

Soon, I found myself nearing my planned campsite. Unlike my REI QuarterDome SL1, which uses a traditional frame for the tent, The One is supported by using your trekking poles and tie-downs. What I was fearful of was that the dirt at the campsite would not allow me to properly stake down the tent. Well, it turns out I was right. The dirt was not deep enough. So I instead had to use heavy rocks to keep the anchor lines in place. With the tent, and the rest of my camp set up, I hiked the 1/3 mile over to the summit to take my summit photo. It felt so odd not to be using my trekking poles even for such a short distance. I did not hang out long on the summit, as I wanted to be back at camp well before sunset.

Once back at camp, I relaxed a bit before making dinner. I did bring a can of “Nature Calls” from Burgeon Brewery to enjoy along with my Mountain House Beef Stroganoff. As the sun sank below the marine layer, I put on my new puffy jacket I plan to use on my Alaskan cruise. Since there was a quarter moon, I knew I wasn’t going to have any great star gazing until the very early morning. So, I turned in for the evening, wondering how my new sleeping pad was going to do. At around 2 in the morning, I awoke wondering why my hip was against the hard ground. It turns out my brand-new sleeping pad had a slow leak. I fumbled around for the sack used to inflate it and got it back to an acceptable level. I was not pleased.

Around 5 am, I awoke again, as the pad had deflated enough again to cause me some discomfort. I knew the sun would be up soon, so I decided to get moving. I brewed a cup of coffee as the sun slowly rose. One of the ways I opted to keep my water load a bit lighter was not to have breakfast at camp, but instead just some coffee and a breakfast bar. I would enjoy a proper meal at Janet’s Montana Cafe in Alpine. One of the camp treats I like to enjoy is a small apple pie for dessert. I was too full yesterday evening to eat it, so I still had it in my food bag. I figured it now counted as a pastry instead of a dessert, so I had it with my coffee instead of the Nutri-Grain bar. I broke camp, but before I headed back to the car, I grabbed just my trekking poles and returned to the summit. I watched the morning light spread out across the landscape.

Once back at my campsite, I put on my pack and set off. Just past Coulter Peak, I heard voices from some early morning hikers. I stepped aside as they continued their climb toward the summit. They mentioned they wondered who was already parked at the trailhead this early. I told them I had camped near the summit. Internally, I knew my car was still there. The rest of the return was uneventful and I had about 1/4 liter of water left when I reached the car. In retrospect, I could have taken a bit more to reduce my water anxiety, but I never felt thirsty. I do need to figure out my electrolyte system if I am going to continue to use bottles and not a reservoir, but that is a problem for another day. With a clean shirt and some of the dirt and sweat wiped off, I drove on down to Alpine and enjoyed some delicious biscuits and gravy and a couple of eggs. Except for the sleeping pad issue, the trip went really well. My legs are a little sore, and in looking over my moving time, I think I actually was hiking too fast with my gear. In the end, it was great to be backpacking again. Now to swap out that pesky sleeping pad…

Update

I tested my sleeping pad again to verify the leak. I inflated it at 8am, and at 4pm the pad was still fully inflated. So, what happened while I was out camping? What I think happened is when I was inflating the pad, I overfilled it, so the valve on the pad popped off. Maybe I did not put the value back one correctly. When I testing, I made sure that value was properly seated, and I did not over-inflate, so maybe that was the source of the slow leak.

San Jacinto Overnight

I pulled into the overnight parking lot at the Palm Springs tram station and got myself ready for another overnight on San Jacinto. This was going to be my first overnight and major peak since my foot surgery in April. Having done this trip 15 months earlier, I knew what lay ahead for me. I pulled on my hiking boots, slung my pack onto my back, and headed up to the tram station. I was also trying out my new smaller bear canister (Bear Vault 425) for this trip. It is just the right size for a quick one- or two-day overnight trip. The tram car was only partially full as we made our ascent up from the desert. Once at the station, I walked down the concrete switchbacks and over to the ranger station. I checked in with the ranger and got some last-minute information about being mindful of camping under trees. Tropical Storm Hillary has done some damage to the mountain, and recently a tree limb fell and injured a camper. I certainly was going to be inspecting my possible campsite a bit closer before pitching my tent.

Long Valley Creek was flowing nicely as I made my way up to Round Valley. I passed a few hikers along the way, including one who had attempted Cactus to Clouds (C2C) that day. We chatted about his attempt, and he told me he had some trouble just before the tram station (a section known to be difficult), and once he reached Round Valley, he knew he was done. C2C is one of the hardest hikes in the US, so just doing Cactus to Tram is a major accomplishment. He headed back down the trail and continued upward toward the campground. I decided to stay at the same site I stayed at last time—Buckthorn. The forecast called for some wind, so I was looking for one of the more sheltered sites. I surveyed the various tent spots and opted for a different one from the last time, in part not to be under a tree. I set up my site, grabbed my water bags, and returned to the water spigot at the trail junction. The water was flowing well and I quickly filtered my water needs for tonight and tomorrow. I relaxed for a while and enjoyed my dinner and the beer I hauled up (for 2 miles I’ll carry a can of beer). Soon after the sun dropped behind the mountain, I turned in. The general plan was to be at Wellman Divide around sunrise.

The winds weren’t too bad. Once in a while the tent got a good shake, but it was nothing like the winds I had when I camped at Parson’s Landing on Catalina. The bigger issue was I pulled a muscle in my shoulder and could not get comfortable to really fall asleep. Ugh! It finally relaxed enough for me to get some sleep before my alarm went off. I had a nice warm breakfast. I am guessing it was about 40°F as I finished loading my slack pack. I began my climb up toward the Wellman Divide. From Round Valley, it is just about 1 mile, but you are going to gain about 800 feet of elevation. I briefly lost the trail a couple of times in the dark, but just for a minute or two. I would stop, turn about, and take in the beautiful colors that were appearing to the east.

At the Wellman Divide, I took a well-earned break. I am trying to be better about taking rest breaks and eating snacks along the way. I mentally broke the hike into three parts; Round Valley to Wellman Divide, Wellman Divide to Miller Peak, and then Miller Peak to the Summit. Each section was about a mile in length, so a perfect way to balance the effort out.

The trail up Miller Peak went well. This section is more exposed, so I got some nice views of the sun as it rose up through the bands of clouds. While the air was getting thinner, the grade wasn’t as bad as that first mile. Soon Miller Peak came into view. I was considering adding it in, but was going to wait and see how I felt after the summit. I took another break when the trail turns back southward, knowing I had about 8/10 of a mile to the summit. I continued my steady pace and at the junction with the trail from Little Round Valley, I took another quick rest break before the final push. I was feeling the poor sleep affect me some and I was at over 10,400 feet. I continued climbing, scanning the trail ahead for that first glimpse of the rescue hut. That was the sign that the maintained trail would end, and then the final rock scramble to the summit would begin. I picked my way up the rocks, following a path that I remembered, and soon the summit came into view.

I scrambled up the rocks to the benchmark and took my photo with my challenge badge next to it as my summit proof. I surveyed the views for a short while, then ducked down to find a spot out of the wind and take a VERY well-earned break. I looked around to see if any of the summit signs were around, but I suspect the high winds yesterday and last night might have blown them away. After a nice break, I knew it was time to head down the mountain. I still had to pack up camp and hike back to the tram station. At the Wellman Divide, I met two hikers who had come up via Devil’s Slide. We chatted briefly. One was heading back, while the other was going for the summit. We said our goodbyes and took off down our respective trails. As I made my way down toward Round Valley, I wondered if I might encounter someone attempting C2C today. It was still too early for any hikers to have come from the tram station. Alas, my descent was one of solitude.

After packing up camp, which is much easier in the daylight, I sauntered back toward the tram station. I passed a lot more folks this time, including 10 or so backpackers heading to Round Valley. As I neared the Ranger station, my eye spotted something moving on the trail. I looked down and it was a Western Mountain Toad. I grabbed a photo or two before continuing on. There had been a sign to be aware of them at the Ranger station and I was happy to actually see one. I checked back in with the same ranger as the day before. I also let him know they were down to one roll in the pit toilets near the Gooseberry campsite. I then made that long climb up the concrete switchbacks to the tram station. It certainly was busier than the day before. I got a nice cold soda and waited for the next tram. I always feel bad for folks riding down and having to stand next to stinky hikers and backpackers.

Once back at the car, I let Anita know I was skipping going on to Baden-Powell, as I was a bit wiped from the hike, and I would be home in time for dinner. While certainly not my fastest time up the mountain, it was a solid hike for me.

Ranger Station to Round Valley Campsite: 2.27 miles, 1:19, and 800 feet of gain

Summit: 5.81 miles, 4:30 (moving time), and 1,648 feet of gain.

Round Valley Junction to Ranger Station: 1.94 miles, 1:09, and almost all downhill :).

Little Lakes Valley

After spending the night at the Grandview Campground, I made my way toward Mosquito Flat Trailhead to begin my backpacking trip in Little Lakes Valley. While I could have made breakfast at the campground, I had a recommendation to stop at the Rock Creek Lakes Resort and have breakfast there instead. After enjoying some eggs, toast, and coffee out on their deck, I hopped back in the car and continued driving toward the trailhead. While it was just after 9:30, I got the last available parking spot. There were some available in the overflow section about ¼ mile back down the road. As a point of trivia, this parking lot is the highest paved trailhead in the US at 10,200 feet!

My basic plan was to saunter along the trail, soaking in the views until I reached Chickenfoot Lake, and then find a campsite. Once I had my camp set up, I would then continue exploring the valley up toward its end at Gem Lakes. After taking advantage of the pit toilets at the trailhead, I set off down the trail. The sounds of Rock Creek flowing past me filled my ears. The trail would take me past several lakes, each with its unique beauty.

Since I was in no hurry, I made sure to keep my pace relaxed. This was in part to manage my foot, but also to remember the fact I am hiking at over 10,000 feet. The trail would gradually climb for a bit, then rise up a bit as it neared a lake, then it would mostly level out again as it passed by it, then repeat the cycle again.

After formally entering the John Muir Wilderness, the next milestone was the junction with the trail that could take you up to Ruby Lake and over Mono Pass. But that was for another adventure. Soon, my first lake, Mack Lake, would come into view. This lake sits down a bit from the trail, so I did not go exploring it. I could see some folks trying their luck in fishing. Over the two days out in Little Lakes Valley, I saw quite a few folks with fishing rods along the trail.

Continuing on, I soon came to my second lake, Marsh Lake. I left the main trail and followed a small spur trail to get an even better view of the lake. I had barely begun this hike and was already blown away by the beauty of the area. Once back on the main trail, and after a short climb, the next lake would open up before me. The trail now hugged the shoreline of Heart Lake. Here a string of Boy Scouts passed me, returning from their overnight adventures.

Side streams would flow into the lakes. Some of them had real bridges, while others were just rock-hopping across. My next lake along the trail was Box Lake. Much like Mack Lake, this one sits slightly below the trail. Checking my tracker, I had covered about half of the planned 3-mile hike to the campsite.

So far, everything was feeling good as I made my way up toward Long Lake. The trail passes on the left side of the lake, along a rocky shoreline. I could start to see the landscape changing, transitioning from the forest into the alpine. I knew after Long Lake, I would reach the junction with the trail that would take me over to Chickenfoot Lake.

One of the reasons for picking this lake to set up camp is that it sits off the main trail and is a bit more secluded from the main trail traffic. I worked my way up and over to the lake. While the gain is not much, being at altitude certainly has an effect on the effort needed. I passed several sites but wanted to survey my options before picking one. I found a nice one with a good view of one of the “toes” of Chickenfoot Lake and began to set things up. As I headed down to the lake to filter some water, a couple of hikers were nearby enjoying their lunch in the shade. It turns out one of them was the volunteer at the Bristlecone Forest Visitor Center and the one who swore me in as a “Junior Ranger”. Small world… I quickly filtered some water, as I was hungry as well. I tried a new method of filling my ‘dirty’ Sawyer bags by using a Ziploc bag to scoop the water from the lake, then transfer it into the Sawyer bags. This worked like a charm. No more struggling to fill them via their small openings.

After stashing my bear canister, I tossed some items into my slack pack and set off to explore the rest of the valley. I rejoined the main trail and headed toward the Gem Lakes. Rising to my left was Morgan Pass. Apparently, there was an effort to have a road cross it and come into the valley from that direction. In fact, the frame of one of those cars sits rusting by the side of the trail. I gave serious thought to climbing up to the pass, but the desire to see the lakes won out.

Gem Lakes is a small collection of about 5 or so lakes at the end of the valley. The two main lakes sit almost next to one another at the actual end. A few wildflowers dotted the trail as I hiked toward it. The steep walls of the valley gave me a clear idea of how much further I had to go. I came up over the small rise, and the main lake spread out before me. Some snow still remained tucked against the rocky talus of the northside of the slope. Some folks had pitched their tents at some of the available spots along the shoreline. I followed the trail along it until I reached the western shore, then found a comfortable spot and just relaxed.

I decided to head back to my camp. I kept eyeing the climb up Morgan Pass and gave it one last consideration at the junction, but I knew I needed to stay conservative as I still did need to hike out tomorrow. Once back at the camp, I gave my feet a nice soak in the cold lake. I figured they had earned that reward. I found some shade, kicked back, and listened to an audiobook for a while.

As the sun began to set behind the mountains, I left the shore and began making dinner. I sat against some rocks, gazing at the water while eating my meal. The bugs started to come out, so I opted to retreat to my tent and continue my audiobook for a while. Soon, I could feel sleep coming on and I drifted off. Since it was one day after the full moon, I knew I was not going to have a dark sky to enjoy. Around midnight I woke up and poked my head out of the tent to be rewarded with a magical sight. The glow of the moon was lighting up the mountains and I hoped my phone’s camera captured it. Thankfully, it did.

I woke a bit before sunrise, which was fine as I had hoped to also capture some of the early morning aspenglow. I tried to have some breakfast, but I just wasn’t feeling it. I guess the altitude was getting to me a bit. As I was packing, I got the moon setting behind the pointed peaks to the west, and a few minutes later, I got my aspenglow.

Those pancakes back at the Rock Creek Lake Resort were sounding really good, so I set off. The air was calm as I neared Box Lake, and its smooth surface was a wonderful mirror of the majestic mountains behind it. While the hike out was going to be mostly downhill, I did have a few small bumps to cross over. Several of the other lakes also provide similar shots as I drew nearer to the trailhead. About halfway back, I started to encounter some other hikers, and quite a few dogs as well. I stopped and chatted with some, as they inquired about where I had camped, much like I had done the day before.

The sun finally rose above the high valley walls just before I reached the trailhead. With that my adventure in Little Lakes Valley was drawing to a close. As I made my way to the parking lot, a couple in a truck asked if I was leaving. I told them “yes, in a bit”. They swung around and politely waited for me to switch out of the hiking gear and clean up a bit before heading out. The parking lot was once again full. As I drove away, I saw several folks walking up from the overflow lot to begin their hike. I once again sat on the deck, enjoying a warm breakfast, scrolling through the hundreds of photos I took across the three days, being ever thankful for the opportunities to find peace and joy in this world.

The drive home was uneventful, just long. I made a quick stop at Erick Schat’s Bakery for some bread to bring home and picked up my other Junior Ranger badge at the Eastern Sierra Visitor Center. Once home, I unloaded the car and gave it a good airing out as we needed it to pick up my daughter later that night from the airport. Another great trip was now in the books. And as an added bonus, my foot did ok.

Backpacking San Jacinto

Earlier this year, Jeff Hester, the founder of the Six-Pack of Peaks Challenges, asked if I would be interested in joining a group to scout out a new set of peaks for a New Mexico based Challenge. I immediately said yes! However, New Mexico had to close all its National Forests, as several wildfires were raging across the state. That meant we would have to postpone the trip, possibly to Fall. Since I had the time off, I decided to turn my focus to either working on the SoCal Six-Pack, or the Arizona Summer Six-Pack. In the end, the SoCal trip won. One of the biggest pains of the SoCal is all the driving to and from San Diego, but by turning it into more of a camping road trip, it would take some of the sting out of the effort. Plus, this would let me have an adventure! The first peak on the list was San Jacinto, but instead of hiking up via Devil’s Slide or the Marion Mountain route, I would do this peak as an overnight trip. I sent away for my overnight permit (yes, you still have to apply for the permit via the mail). Once I received my permit, I secured campgrounds near the other two peaks I wanted to climb, Baden-Powell and Sawmill. This trip was going to be a blend of backpacking and car camping, so I had an interesting collection of gear in the back of my trusty Outback. With everything loaded, I set off for Palm Springs and the Aerial Tram.

Day 1: Mountain Station to Round Valley

The first day was actually going to be pretty mild. I parked my car in the overnight lot at the tram station and grabbed my gear. While I had a reserved ticket for 2 pm, I was there a bit early. There was room on the tram, so I headed up away from the heat of the desert. After my 12-minute ride, I headed to the ranger station to check-in. The ranger went over the basic rules and showed me how the campsite actually worked. I must admit, in planning this portion of the trip I did not really understand the layout of the Round Valley campground. Along the trail, there are posts, each marked with an R and a number. These serve as junction markers to trails that lead back to the various campgrounds, which are all named. He told me to avoid R1-R4 as they are just off the main trail to the peak. Since there were some winds forecasted for the evening, he also suggested not staying at Upper Chinquapin. Now that I understood the campground, and carrying a much better map that came with my permit, I set off.

The temperatures were in the mid-70s, but the light breeze and the shade made for a pleasant time. Since I was early, I debated heading to the campsite, dropping my gear, and heading up to the summit, but I knew I had several more days of hiking ahead of me and did not need to rush. Once at Round Valley, I began to explore some of the options to set up camp. In the end, I picked Buckthorn, as there was a spot sheltered by some boulders which could offer some additional protection from the wind. I walked back down to the Seasonal Ranger station and marked on the map that I had taken Buckthorn for the evening, then went over to the faucet to filter water.

As evening came, I made my dinner and enjoyed a nice beer I carried up. Since I had to only cover just over 2 miles with an elevation gain of about 800 feet, I was willing to have the extra weight for a nice Victory at Sea from Ballast Point. A quarter moon hung in the sky as I crawled into my tent and drifted to sleep.

Day 2: Round Valley to Summit

I woke just before dawn, and the forecasted winds never seemed to come. I had my oatmeal and a couple of cups of coffee while I broke down camp. My plan was to stash my backpack, while I slack-packed up to the summit. I found a nice nook near the ranger station and set off up the trail toward Wellman Divide. Since the first tram up wasn’t until 10 am, I doubted I would see anyone for quite a while. I felt great as I made the climb up from Round Valley. I suspect that spending the night at 9,100 feet helped my body get a bit more used to the altitude. I reached Wellman Divide still feeling great. I stopped for a bit to grab some photos before continuing upward.

The trail was familiar, as this was the third time I had covered this portion of the route. Unlike last time, where I had been feeling the climb, this time I just kept cruising along. I reached the turn near Miller Peak and kept trucking along, knowing I was almost there. I came to the junction with the trail that connects up from Little Round Valley. If I was going to see anyone this early, it would be anyone who might have camped there. Although I suspect, if they had camped there, they might have tried for a sunrise summit. There was a tiny patch of snow nearby, and I wondered how much longer it would last?

I set off for the final 3/10 mile to the summit. I briefly stopped at the Rescue Hut but was starting to run low on energy. Since I had a short scramble to the top, I pushed on. Someone had spray-painted blue arrows to help guide you up the rocks. I could not recall seeing this the last time.

Once at the summit, I stood alone. I snapped my photos, enjoying not having to wait for others. I then found a nice spot to take my well-earned break. With a little bit of food in me, I was feeling great again. I took in the views some more, then headed back down the trail. As I neared the turn near Miller Peak, I decided to hike over and check it out. I got close to the true summit, but it would have been a bit of a scramble to the top and I just did not feel like doing it. After rejoining the main trail, I cruised back down. I would look at my watch and wonder when I might encounter my first day-hikers. My best guess was just around Round Valley. The return to Round Valley went smoothly, stopping only for photos.

Once back at Round Valley, I switched back to my backpack, securing my slack-pack to the outside. I thought about transferring my water bladder back into my backpack but figured I had just about 2 miles of downhill ahead of me and I would be fine. Just past the first campsites, I met my first day-hikers. My guess had been correct as to the timing. We chatted a bit, then each went our separate ways. About every 15 minutes or so, I would pass another set of hikers making their way toward the summit. Some seemed a bit more prepared than others. Finally, I reached the ranger station. I checked in with the ranger to let him know I safely returned. As I enjoyed a nice cool drink of water, I listened to him caution a group of hikers about the warm day. Feeling a bit refreshed, I set off on the hardest part of the entire hike, the climb to the actual tram station. I plodded my way up the 120 feet of steep concrete switchbacks. Once there, I bought a cold soda and waited for the next tram down. With one peak down, it was off to drive over to Table Mountain Campground and tackle Baden-Powell via Dawson’s Saddle tomorrow.

Final Stats

Day 1:

Ranger Station to Round Valley: 2.25 miles, 1:17, and 795 feet of gain.

Day 2:

Round Valley – Summit: 5.9 miles, 3:39 (excluding time at the summit), and 1,735 feet of gain

Round Valley to Ranger Station: 1.9 miles, 1:03, and 795 feet of loss.

Trans-Catalina Trail: Day 5

I woke up just before dawn. I grabbed my phone and snapped some photos of the glorious colors of the morning sky. My heart and soul were full. I made breakfast and broke camp for the last time. Some were staying two nights, adding in the hike to StarLight Beach, the old end of the TCT, while others were like me and returning to Two Harbors and back to the mainland. I left my fuel and my remaining water for one of the others.

With a much lighter pack, I retraced my route from yesterday. The only difference was I did need to make it back in town by 11:15. The miles flew by, and I could still feel the day warming up again. One of the campers had a thermometer, and said the low at Parsons was 71! I passed a few folks, one on a gravel bike, a couple of runners getting their miles in, and one fellow heading out to see a buddy who worked at one of the camps.

I decided to follow the formal route into town and did not take the shortcut, plus I got to see a little bit more of Two Harbors. Once at the pier I got my ferry ticket, cleaned up a bit, bought a couple of cold drinks, and last but not least, 2 patches to add to my collection. As I boarded a ferry, I knew this adventure had come to a close. Soon Anita would be standing on the dock waiting to greet me. I am proud of this journey and what it gave me. When all is said and done, I hiked 39.7 miles over the five days. I logged 19 hours of actual hiking time and measured 6,998 feet of elevation gain.