Sweating up Sitton Peak

I pulled off Ortega Highway across from the now-closed Candy Store. I guess with the nearby campground closed due to the Airport Fire, there wasn’t enough business to keep it open. It was going to be a warm day, so I wasted no time in getting moving. This was going to be my 6th time up this peak, so I cruised along the very familiar trail. I snapped a few photos along the way, as there were still flowers blooming. When I reached 4 Corners, I noticed one of my sand baskets had come off my trekking poles. That happened on this trail once before. I kept hiking along, knowing I would be retracing my route rather than taking the Bear Ridge Trail that I had planned.

I powered up the last steep section to the summit and finally took a break. I did not stay too long, as it was getting even warmer. After grabbing some photos and mixing up some electrolytes, I set off. There actually was more shade than one would think for this hike, and I was thankful for that. As I cruised back to the car, I kept scanning the trail for my missing sand basket (and danger noodles), and as luck would have it, I found it! Soon, the highway came back into view, and my trek was drawing to a close. The car’s thermometer read just over 90°F, and I would believe it (it left my Govee at home, so I did not record the actual trail temps). Including the time at the summit, I clocked this hike in at 3:51 for the 9.4 miles. Not too bad!

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 both the Arizona-Winter and Arizona-Summer). 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.

Hiking the Tahquitz Peak Loop

As I left San Diego under drizzle, I hoped the forecast I read for Tahquitz Peak was correct. Luckily, as I crossed into Temecula, the clouds and rain faded away, and I had clear skies. After grabbing a biscuit and coffee from McDonald’s, I continued the drive up to Idyllwild. Since I was planning on hiking the Devil’s Slide trail, I knew I needed to get a permit from the Ranger Station in town. Since this was a weekday, I could obtain one of the self-issued permits for this hike. Otherwise, I would have had to either get one in advance or wait for the station to open. After filling out the permit and slipping the white copy into the slot, I made the short drive up to Humber Park. A few cars were here when I arrived. Again, the upside of doing this on a weekday. I hung my America the Beautiful pass from my mirror, as either that or an Adventure Pass is required. The air was cool, but once again, I knew once I started hiking, I would be shedding my layers in 5 minutes, so that fleece once again stayed in my pack. The plan was to hike up to the fire lookout tower atop Tahquitz Peak and then loop back through Tahquitz Valley.

The trail begins as a climb straight from the parking lot. Thankfully, the grade is not overwhelming. I suspect it is the altitude that gets hikers as they work their way up. Off to the left, you have a stunning view of Suicide Rock (another trail I need to do). I passed by two springs that were barely flowing. As I neared Saddle Junction, I met a PCT hiker from the Netherlands who was having to hike back down to Idyllwild to get a package. We chatted a bit, she did her first 20-mile day the day before, so she felt she was finally getting her “hiker legs”. I wished her well on her journey. At the junction, I took a right and joined the PCT myself, as I hiked southward toward Tahquitz Peak. The section was a lot more gentle than the 1,700 feet of gain I made coming up from Humber Park. After about 1.4 miles, I came to the spur trail that would take me to the lookout tower. The tower was another 0.4 miles further. Unfortunately, the tower will not be open in 2025 due to structural issues and budget concerns. I climbed the stairs up the tower and began taking in the sweeping views, while enjoying a well-earned snack. A fellow hiker and his dog joined me on the summit, and we chatted for some time before they set off back down. I lingered a bit more, doing some filming before I too set off.

Back at the junction with the PCT, I continued east along it for about 0.7 miles until I left it and started heading north toward Tahquitz Meadow. The creek had already dried up for the season, but the meadow was still beautiful. When I reached the Caramba Trail, I joined it to return me back to Saddle Junction. Once there, I mixed up some electrolytes and broke open a bag of trail mix to enjoy on my descent. I passed a few hikers making their way up the trail. Then I spotted the familiar colors of a ranger hiking up the trail. We stopped and chatted for some time, and she did indeed ask for my permit, which I had. She continued up, and I continued down. The call of some Mexican food in Idyllwild was getting strong. The entire loop was 9.8 miles with 2604 feet of gain in 4:13 (including the stops with the PCT hiker and the Ranger).

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.

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.