Tackling Cucamonga and Etiwanda Peaks

I pulled into the Ice House Canyon parking lot just around 6:30 am. Given this was a Monday, I did not have any trouble finding a spot, as there were only about 8 other cars here. It was nippy, but I knew that once I started up Ice House Canyon, I would be shedding that fleece layer in no time, so it stayed tucked in the pack. Next to the trailhead, work has begun on the new Heroes Project retreat. This is the organization that holds the Climb for Heroes event up Mt. Baldy, which I have done in the past. I had already gotten the free permit online needed to hike Cucamonga, so I skipped filling out the paper one and set off. The creek was flowing nicely as I passed by the cabins in the canyon. Just a few wildflowers remained along the side of the trail. About two miles in, the sun finally rose over the ridgeline. I stopped and got a photo for Ted, as he does enjoy a good sunrise. The trail continued its climb toward Icehouse Saddle. At the junction with the trail from Cedar Glen Campground, a trail runner was standing in front of the sign with a puzzled look on his face. I inquired about where he was trying to get to, and he replied, “Cucamonga”. I told him to stay on this trail and then look for the sign toward the east once you were at Icehouse Saddle. He thanked me and began jogging off. I shook my head at how unprepared he was. Before too long, I reached the saddle and took a well-earned break.

After enjoying the silence, I set off along the Cucamonga Trail toward the summit. From time to time, I had some great views of the high desert to the northeast. I stopped at the Bighorn Mine for a quick photo, but did not venture inside either tunnel. I reached the Bighorn Saddle and got ready for the 1,200 or so feet of gain that lay ahead of me. A few trail runners had passed me earlier in the climb, and they were now making their return as I climbed the switchbacks. I asked about that trail runner I helped earlier to find out if he got on the right trail. They said they did see him, so I didn’t have to worry about him heading the wrong way.

Partway up, I met two backpackers making their return from camping on the summit. I asked what their water load was for their trip, and they replied 6 liters. They had filled up at Columbine Spring, so they did have all that water weight from the beginning. We wished each other a safe hike and continued on. Soon, I spotted the wooden post indicating the side trail that you use to reach the summit, and I remembered the struggle up this section the last time I climbed Cucamonga. Thankfully, it was a bit easier this time around. As I reached the broad summit, I looked around for anyone else, but it was deserted! Slipping off my pack, I pulled out my tripod to be able to take the classic photo standing on the rock outcropping. I was glad I had the foresight to bring it, just in case. After snapping some more photos, I found a nice spot to enjoy an early lunch. A chipmunk chirped nearby as it tried to work its way over to grab some crumbs. As I was finishing my PB&J, two pairs of hikers joined me on the summit. We swapped cameras for some photos, and then I set off for my next destination, Etiwanda Peak.

Sitting just under a mile to the east of Cucamonga Peak is Etiwanda Peak, which is on the Sierra Club Hundred Peaks Section list. The trail mostly follows the ridgeline until a nice-sized cairn marks the junction with its side trail to the summit. After a short but steep climb, I stood atop the white quartz that sits at the top of the summit and soaked in the views. Unlike Cucamonga, I had a full 360° view of the area. After a quick snack, it was time to make my way back down.

One of the pair of hikers who joined me at the summit was also making their way to Etiwanda, and I let them know the cairn for the side trail was very visible. At Bighorn Saddle, I briefly thought about climbing the ridgeline and summiting it as well, but I plan on climbing Ontario again, so I opted to save it for that trip.

Back at Icehouse Saddle, I paused for just a bit to rearrange some snacks for the hike down the canyon into one of my hip pockets. I cruised along, making good time on the descent. I passed a couple of backpackers making their way up to Kelly Camp for the night, and a few folks exploring Ice House Canyon. Before too long, I started passing the cabins again and knew the end of the trail was not far off. Once back at the car, I tossed in my gear and changed into a dry shirt. After a well-earned meal from In-N-Out, I hit the freeway home. The hike was 14.48 miles in 7:04 with 4770 feet of gain.

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.

Climbing Mt. Willson from Chantry Flats

Finally had the chance to hike Mt. Wilson from Chantry Flats, as this route had been closed since the 2020 Bobcat Fire. So, with a very early morning start, I made the drive up. Pulling into the nearly empty parking lot just after 6, I gathered my gear and got ready to head off. From what I have read, this parking lot becomes packed on the weekends, much like Ice House Canyon’s parking area can be. For now, my Outback was one of only about 8 cars. I was planning on doing the hike as a loop, up the Gabrielino Trail, with a side hike to Sturtevant Falls, and returning to Chantry Flats via the Winter Creek Trail.

I followed the dirt road down into San Olene Canyon and made the first of many water crossings. To the left was the Lower Winter Creek Trail, and to the right, the Gabrielino Trail continued. Due to budgeting issues, the toilets at this junction were closed. I now entered the East Fork Santa Anita Canyon and began following the Big Santa Anita Creek. Here I passed by the Big Santa Anita Canyon Cabin Tract. These historic cabins were built by private citizens on Forest Service land under a Special Use Permit over 100 years ago. They are still owned by local families, many of whom are descendants of the original owners. As I continued past these cabins, sill dams lined the creek. The goal of these dams was to keep silt and other debris from impacting the main dam further downstream. After about 0.7 miles, I came to the junction with the side trail to Sturtevant Falls, and I hustled along it for about 0.3 miles. After a simple water crossing followed by a short scramble, the 50-foot falls stood before me. I enjoyed a bit of solitude, and I can only imagine what it is like on a hot weekend. I returned to the last junction and began my climb in earnest. I was thankful to have the “May grey” in effect. While I had my AirPods with me, the sounds of the flowing water were just too enchanting not to be my hike’s soundtrack for a while. The trail was in pretty good shape, with just one or two spots to watch my footing.

Soon, I came to Spruce Grove Trail Camp and saw that someone had made the trek here to spend the night. A small hot spot was forming on my right foot, so I stopped briefly to address it with some KT tape. I also took this as a good time for a snack before continuing. Shortly thereafter, I came to Sturtevant Camp. Apparently, you can rent cabins here on the weekend. Not sure if I can convince my wife to make the hike up to them. Just past here is the connector trail over Mt. Zion. Signs cautioned hikers that while the trail is open, it is still being rebuilt and to use extreme caution if they choose to hike it. I stayed on the Gabrielino Trail and continued my ascent toward Mt. Wilson. The overcast skies I had previously were gone, so I could feel the warmth of the sun.

The trail had a good amount of shade, so it wasn’t too much of an issue. In fact, for the most part, I kept my sun hoodie down. Checking my map, I saw I was getting close to the summit, which was good, as I was in need of a break. Being so close, I pushed on for the last 1/4 mile. As I reached the top, I turned right to the viewpoint on Echo Rock to snap my summit selfies. I did not linger as I really wanted to sit in the shade at the Cosmic Café and eat my lunch. As I strolled along the road, past the various domes and other astronomical items, I ran into another hiker about to make his way down the Gabrielino. We swapped a few bits of trail beta and then went our separate ways. Once at the Café, I slipped off my pack, took off my shoes and socks to give my feet a rest, and broke out my lunch. Being a weekday, the café is not open. On the upside, there wasn’t another person there, so I ate my PB&J in blissful silence. I drank a liter of water and mixed up some electrolytes for the descent. I carried up 2.75 liters, but next time I will probably carry less and maybe pack my water filter if I am really concerned.

After walking over to the benchmark and the plaque honoring Wilson (who I am distantly related to), I stepped onto the Mt. Wilson Trail. This section of the trail was completely burned over by the Bobcat fire. After about 0.6 miles, this trail joins the Mt. Wilson Toll Road. I thought about taking the side road up to Mt. Harvard, but opted to skip it. While this used to be an actual road, large rocks have now fallen onto the roadway. With the sounds of flowing water long since gone, I slipped my AirPods on and enjoyed an episode of Backpacker radio. In 0.5 miles, the Mt. Wilson trail again leaves the Toll Road. Since the Toll Road is still closed from the fire (a large sign informs you of such), I made my left-hand turn back onto the trail. I hiked down the trail toward Manazanita Ridge. Here, a nice bench offers some respite for hikers needing a break from their climb. The Mt. Wilson Trail veers to the right, but it is also still closed due to the fire damage. Instead, I followed the Winter Creek Trail down. After about 1.2 miles, the sounds of Winter Creek began to fill the air, and I put my AirPods away. How often do you get to hike next to flowing water in Southern California?

At Hoegee Trail Camp, where a few more private Cabins were, along with 13 primitive campsites, the trail splits. The Lower Winter Creek Trail follows the creek back and connects with the Gabrielino before Chantry Flats. While the Upper Winter Creek Trails return you to Chantry Flats proper. My routes that I had loaded onto my phone did not properly sync overnight, so I was hiking a bit in the blind. Since how often do I get to hike next to a flowing stream, I opted for the lAt Hoegee Trail Camp, where a few more private cabins are, along with 13 primitive campsites, the trail splits. The Lower Winter Creek Trail follows the creek back and connects with the Gabrielino before Chantry Flats. While the Upper Winter Creek Trails return you to Chantry Flats proper, my routes I had tried to load onto my phone did not properly sync overnight, so I was hiking a bit in the blind. Since I don’t often get to hike next to a flowing stream, I opted for the lower trail. The trail crisscrossed the stream 5 or 6 times. I passed the other end of the Zion Trail, along with the same warnings posted. After 1.5 miles, I came back to the junction with the Gabrielino Trail. There were now other folks on the trail, and a crew from the Forest Service doing some work. I made the 0.6-mile, 390-foot climb back up to the parking area, all the while questioning whether the stream was worth this climb. Once back at the trailhead, I walked over to the Pack Station and bought a cold Coke and a Snickers and enjoyed them on the patio. After tossing my gear into the car and putting on a dry shirt, I began the drive home, hoping the LA traffic wouldn’t be too bad. I logged my loop at 15.23 miles, in 6:39 (turning off the tracker at the Café) and 4,808 feet of gain. That was my first peak for the 2025 SoCal Six Pack of Peaks Challenge.

Hiking Ontario Peak

I needed one more peak to complete the SoCal Six-Pack of Peaks Challenge for the year. With Mt. Baldy and Santiago closed until 2025 and Mt. Baden-Powell restricted, that left me only 4 options; San Gorgonio, San Bernardino, Cucamonga, or Ontario. I choose the latter as it is the easiest. I knew I needed to arrive at the trailhead parking lot just after 6 am if I hoped to find parking, so it was going to be an early morning. As expected, the freeways were fairly empty as I made my way, but as I pulled in, the lot was almost completely full. It was chilly but not too cold. I donned my fleece, pulled up my sun hoodie for warmth for my ears, and set off up Ice House Canyon. The stream was flowing nicely and trees in this part of the canyon had begun to show their fall colors.

Unlike the last time I tried to hike this trail and turned back due to some knee pain, I was feeling good as I made my way up toward Ice House Saddle. After about 3.6 miles of climbing, I could hear the voices of other hikers milling about. I found a log and took a well-earned break. Nearby, a sizable group from hikingforall.com was getting ready to continue onto Ontario Peak as well. I cut my break short to start my ascent ahead of them, so I would not be in a conga line of hikers.

A few from their group did catch and pass me, but I mostly stayed ahead of them, giving me the solitude I sought. As I passed through Kelly Camp, a couple of tents were set up off to the west. I continued on, wondering from time to time if I should have taken a longer break back at Ice House Saddle. When the view to the west opened up, I could see Mt. Baldy and the fire damage to the surrounding area. When the trail crested at the ridgeline, it was finally warm enough to stash my fleece before the final push to the top. Soon, the actual peak came into view and the last few switchbacks to the summit. I was paying for the short break as I slogged up the last 1/4 mile to the top.

Once there, I found a spot to drop my pack and snapped a few photos before the others arrived. There were a few folks hanging out, so thankfully not all my photos were selfies. I enjoyed my PB&J, orange slices and some Gatorade. The weather was perfect, with just a light breeze, and barely a cloud in the sky. I chatted with George Rojas, the founder of hikingforall.com, for a bit before I headed down.

I debated hiking over and summiting Bighorn Peak, but opted to skip it. The quickest way down from it is cross-country trek and I would feel better doing it with a companion. As I made my way down, more hikers were working their way up. They could not have picked a better fall day to be on trail.

Once back at Ice House Saddle, I was feeling pretty good, so I just continued my descent. I passed Columbine Spring, which I missed seeing on the way up, where someone was refilling their water bottles. I could tell I was getting closer to the trailhead, as the types of hikers transitioned from more serious hikers to those out for a stroll. The lower part of Ice House Canyon is certainly a lovely spot to enjoy. When I stopped my tracker, it informed me this was my second fastest hike between 11-13 miles. I knew I felt good, but dang! It clocked the 12.01 miles in 5:58. I paused at the saddle and at the summit. I doubt I will be able to get another Six Pack peak this year given my calendar, shorter days, and the uncertainty of weather, but who knows…

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.

Strawberry Peak

I knew the forecast was going to be hot before I left San Diego, but boy, oh boy! I arrived at the Red Box Picnic Area at just after 6 am, and the thermometer read 74°F. I gathered my things and quickly set off. This was my 5th time doing this peak, so I was very familiar with the trail. I cruised along, enjoying the shade from Mt. Lawlor. Then at Lawlor Saddle the “fun” began. I took a short break on one of the false summits for a quick snack before pushing on. I had the summit to myself, sitting on the western side for well-earned shade.

As I headed down, I finally started to encounter other hikers. Just after the first false summit, I ran into another SoCal 6-Pack of Peaks Challenger, Alfred. We chatted for a while before parting ways. Early on, I offered general encouragement to those hiking up, but as I continued on my return I became more concerned about their safety. The day was really warming up, and the section from the saddle to the summit is fully exposed to the blazing sun. Most seemed to be properly equipped, but there were some that did give me some real concern. Back at my car, I quickly turned the A/C on and drank some ice-cold water I had. The car’s thermometer read 90°F, and given how the trail felt that last 1/2 mile, I would believe it. I could not stop thinking that some of those hikers were going to have a miserable time.

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…

Sawmill Mountain & Mt. Pinos

I spent the night at Mt. Pinos campground enjoying some clear skies and good company with a good friend from college.

After breakfast, we made the short drive to the trailhead for our planned hike to Sawmill. Unfortunately, my breakfast wasn’t sitting well, so I kept a more relaxed pace to see if things might settle themselves. The hike up to Mt. Pinos is pretty mellow, so I knew I had some time to see if my stomach calmed down. We reached the summit without any other incidents and snapped some photos. The summit sign was MIA, but no biggie.

We continued on to the Mount Pinos Condor Observation Site and I sat for a bit. An incident radio station had been set up to assist the firefighters battling the Apache fire to our west. Neither Ted nor I saw any smoke from it. I was feeling better and we began our descent to the saddle between Mt. Pinos and Sawmill. Having done this peak several times, I was comfortable with continuing.

We worked our way up to the summit of Sawmill and had a nice long rest. The smoke from the Borel fire, east of Bakersfield, was clearly visible (later in the day, it may have triggered a pyrocumulus). After chatting with another 6 Pack of Peaks challenger, we set back. While I was better, I was not at 100%, so we took a few breaks along the return. The trail had become more active as the day wore on.

Back at the car, we calculated making the 7.3 miles with a moving time of 3:12. We drove back down the mountain to grab some deli sandwiches for lunch and some more firewood for my campfire later that night. Ted had commitments Sunday morning, so he packed up his tent and headed home. I spent the afternoon relaxing under the pine trees, researching new adventures. I woke again to the first light of the sun, packed up and cruised on home.

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.

Sitton Peak

The morning was a tad chilly when we pulled into the parking lot across from the trailhead for Sitton Peak. This was to be my 6th peak for my 2023 SoCal Six Pack of Peak Challenge. Ted had never hiked this peak with me, so he was up for a new adventure. I also invited one of my co-workers along for the almost 10-mile round-trip journey through the San Mateo Wilderness. Once Maegan arrived, I introduced her to Ted, and we quickly gathered our gear. Ted and Maegan opted for an extra layer, while I stuck with just my base layer. The forecast was for a high of about 77°F, so I knew it would soon be warming up as the sun rose. Plus, I am using a waist pack until my back is up to having the weight of a pack on it. We scurried across the newly paved highway and began our adventure. I explained the hike could be broken into sections, one for each trail junction, and the final climb. This was my fourth time up the summit, so I felt very comfortable leading them. Near the trailhead, I signed us in and we set off.

After a bit, both Ted and Maegan shed their initial layers as the day indeed was starting to warm up. We also stopped from time to time as a plant would catch Maegan’s attention. She had taken a course on the local plants and was trying to put those skills to use.

The miles passed, and we paused at each junction for a short break. We chatted about various things as we drew nearer to the summit. After we passed Four Corners, I was keeping an eye out for a possible campsite. I originally had planned to do this peak as an overnight, but I certainly wasn’t going to attempt any backpacking anytime soon. We spied the use trail to the campsite and it looked to be a good one (ignoring the illegal fire ring). We were getting a bit hungry, so once we reached the old crash site, we took our snack break. With a bit of food in our stomachs, we began the steep, but thankfully relatively short, climb to the summit. Ted and I crested the climb and kept an eye down the trail for Maegan to make her way up. Once we had regrouped and had a moment to recover, we hiked the last bit to the summit.

Two sets of hikers were there enjoying some really clear views. We took a few photos and then found a spot to enjoy some well-earned snacks and a rest. Since we knew that we had 5 miles back to the car and the day was warming, we began our descent. We carefully picked our way down the steep section, hoping not to slip (narrator: someone did slip). Back on the more gentle portion of the trail, we began working our way back to the car. Ted and I discussed our lunch options. Maegan had to get back home so she let us hash out our post-hike plan. I tossed out the question, “What is an urban hike in San Diego?” This provided a good debate on the topic. Feel free to offer your opinion in the comments. Unfortunately, I made a couple of missteps and rolled my right foot. Enough to feel it, but nothing to create an issue. I figured it would be tender later (narrator: he was right).

Soon the din of traffic from the highway started to fill our ears, signaling that we were almost done. My back had done pretty well, so that in itself was a victory for me. Ted and Meagan got to cross off a new peak and I finished my 2023 Six Pack of Peaks Challenge. After tossing our gear in our cars and putting on a clean shirt and comfy shoes, we drove over to the Candy Store to pick up a few treats and a cold drink. Maegan said her goodbyes and headed back to San Diego. We followed soon after. I convinced Ted we should stop in Pala Mesa, and we both got lunch from the Rib Shack. There was a mix-up with my order, and I accidentally got someone else’s (right sides, they got tri-tip and brisket). I didn’t notice that until I dug in. Oops! But damn, both of the meats were outstanding! Still, this was a slightly later-than-planned lunch. It actually worked in my favor as I was attending an event in the evening and that dinner was not scheduled until 8 pm. My tracker did not restart once we left the summit, so Ted’s tracker logged us in at 9.8 at the car. Being so close to 10, we did a few laps in the parking lot. Our moving time was 4:49 with 2,150 feet of gain. I am hoping the next time I climb this peak it will be an overnight.