Summitting Sombrero Peak

Today’s adventure was to summit Sombrero Peak. I had climbed this peak twice before—The first time I went solo and started from the Indian Canyon trailhead and went up and back. The second time, I was with a group, and while we started at the same trailhead, we descended the west face of Sombrero Peak, then went cross-country to climb False Sombrero. This time I opted to try climbing the peak from McCain Valley. Ted needed to be back in town for an early evening engagement, so that meant a very early start to the day.

Turning off the 8, we then turned onto McCain Valley Road. We passed the turn-off to Mt. Tule, and then the turn off at the trailhead to Gasp Benchmark. Finally, we reached Cottonwood Campground and turned in. There is a $6 day-use fee, which thankfully I knew about and had cash to slip into the envelope. After making use of some extremely clean pit toilets, we gathered our gear and set off down the Pepperwood Trail. Our route would zig-zag north and east toward the peak. We had caught a glimpse of its unique shape on the drive to the trailhead.

We cruised along, with the trail being a mix of motorcycle tracks and roads, allowing us to make good time. Along the way, we passed an old barn and corral. The trail would rise and fall as we drew nearer to the peak. Finally, we reached the point where we would begin the cross-country portion of the hike. Weaving past the cat-claw bushes and the cacti, we reached the base of the peak, near a very faded sign indicating it was Sombrero Peak. We took a break before beginning our ascent. I reviewed Greg Gerlach’s track that I had loaded into OnX and tried to plot our way up the boulders. We followed a faint use-trail for a bit until it faded away. I remembered following cairns before, so I began scanning the boulders for tell-tale signs of the route. I spotted some and we continued upward. As we drew closer, our route drifted from Greg’s, so we worked our way back toward the southern side of the peak. I made one slightly exposed move to get us back on track, while Ted was able to scramble around it, as that is not his thing. The route now seemed a tad more familiar, and a string of cairns quickly led us to the summit.

A register can and summit sign were tucked in the rocks, and I signed us in and snapped a photo with the sign. I showed Ted the east face of the peak and what the route from that side looked like. He thought this was a better choice, even with the 4.75 miles to the base of the peak. I mixed up some electrolytes and enjoyed a Kind bar and oranges before beginning our descent.

Our route down was much easier, but that typically seems to be the case. Back on the trail/road, we cruised toward the car. The day had warmed slightly, and I started to feel the effort a bit. With about a mile to go, I realized I missed a turn, but with the myriad of motorcycle trails and having downloaded the satellite imagery, I spotted another connecting trail that would lead us to the campground. As we approached the campground, four motorcycles rode past us. These were the first ones we had seen all day and I had honestly expected to see more. Back at the car, we tossed in our gear, changed, and then headed toward Mike Hess Brewery in Alpine for some well-earned pizza and beverages. My tracker clocked us at 10.0 miles (Ted had 10.25 on his Garmin) in 5:15 (including time on the summit). All in all, a great day out peakbagging. Plus, Ted is one peak closer to finishing the San Diego Sierra Club 100 Peak list…

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.

Groan Benchmark

I stood in predawn in the park-and-ride, clutching my warm cup of coffee while waiting for Rick and Andrea to pull up. Today’s adventure was hopefully to be climbing to the top of Groan Benchmark out in the southern portion of Anza-Borrego. This was going to be the first peak of this year’s desert season and we were looking forward to it. We made our way out past Ocotillo and to the turn-off to Carrizo Gorge. We stopped for Rick to set up the camera for some footage for their YouTube channel.

I debated about airing down my tires but opted not to. Rick got his footage and off we went. This was the biggest uncertainty of this hike—could I drive my Outback to the actual trailhead, or would we have to stop early and begin from that point? The first time I hiked Groan, Matt Hanan took us in his Jeep, so there were no issues with the 6.7 miles of off-road adventures. The other time I had been back down this road was also in another 4×4. The road started off pretty sandy, but we got through that without incident. As the canyon narrowed, the road became rockier. With some care and my upgraded tires, we got through it all and arrived at the trailhead. On the flip side, the check engine light came on, and both the Eyesight and X-mode were not working. Great….. At this point, though, we opted to do our hike and see what happened with the car on our return.

With our packs on us, we set off. I opted to use my Daylight Plus instead of my Stratus, as I wanted to go a little lighter this time. After filming our walk-away shot and then getting the camera, we set off down the gorge. Our plan was to follow the same route we used during our descent from Groan back in 2020, and Greg Gerlach and Susie Kara used it when they did the peak in 2022.

The wash was a solid bed of smooth rocks, so we had to be mindful of our steps. After a bit, we made the short scramble up to see the pictographs adorning a small cave on the east side of the canyon. Once we were done marveling at them and wondering what various symbols truly meant, we turned back to the wash and trekked on. The weather was pleasant, albeit a touch warm. Originally, we had discussed car camping, as there was another peak I wanted to climb from the same trailhead, but a forecast for possible rain made that unwise.

We could see some trestles for the railroad along the east side of the gorge, but not the famous wooden trestle. That would not be visible until we reached the summit. We spotted the wash that would begin to take us westward. Cruising along, we came to the first of two dry falls we would need to climb over. Thankfully, both were passable without too much difficulty.

Our real issues were around the vegetation that grew along the canyon floor. We had to push through several sections of brush to continue. One section was pretty nasty, as it was choked with thorny plants. We were not looking forward to fighting our way back through that section. At the small palm grove, we stopped for a snack and some hydration, as we were getting closer to exiting the canyon floor and starting toward the summit. It was about 72°F or so in the shade, and I wished I had more fluids with me.

With our break over, we continued on for about .1 miles, and then up we went. Groan Benchmark was finally in view. Between avoiding the cacti and the steepness of the slope, we tended to follow a switchback-like pattern. Once atop the small bump, we had some side-hilling to reach the saddle next to the peak. I am not a fan of side-hilling (but who really is?) but we traversed that section without incident. As I reached the saddle, I could feel myself starting to bonk. I had been conserving my water and probably could have had another snack as well. The summit wasn’t that far away, so I pushed on. From the saddle, we would go up three fairly steep bits before finally reaching the summit proper. Once there, I plopped down, enjoyed my Gatorade, ate my lunch, and relaxed.

The view was stunning. Across the gorge is the Goat Canyon Trestle, and I wondered how many hikers made their way along the abandoned railroad tracks to walk across it. Next to it stood Puff Benchmark, which I have twice stood atop. Feeling better, I snapped a few photos and hunted for the register, which we could not locate. I tested out the satellite communications options on my new iPhone and let my wife know my status and that of the car. I am not ditching my Garmin InReach, but having a secondary communications device is useful, especially since I am already carrying it.

The descent went fine, and we discussed our favorite shows on Apple+ while watching our footing. The shadows were starting to get longer, and I realized I forgot to pack my regular glasses. We worked our way down those dry falls without any issues and scrambled up the south side of the canyon to avoid most of that thorny section. I motored ahead of Rick and Andrea to race against the fading light. Along the way, I found some cairns, which did allow for some slightly faster traveling. Soon, it was too dim, so I took my glasses off. Thankfully I could see well enough without them to hike at a decent pace. Once back at the car, I put on my regular glasses and enjoyed some cool water, and about 15 minutes later, Rick and Andrea arrived. We did not linger too long, as we still had to drive back out and the owner’s manual did not provide any real insight on the warning lights.

Once past the rocky sections, I felt relief. Even if we had a real issue, we were now in someplace more accessible to be recovered. As we cruised along the sandy portion, we spotted a young man walking along the road. We stopped and he asked if this was the road to Bow Willow campground. We informed him it was just a bit to the north of this road. It turned out he and his companion had gotten their Hyundai stuck in the soft sand, and he had been walking for a bit trying to find the campground with their buddies to help with a recovery.

He hopped in and we continued our drive out. After about a mile, there was the yellow Hyundai with its front wheel partially buried in the sand. Rick, myself, and our guest tried to see if we could give it a push to free the car, but it did not move. Since they had help back at the campground, and where they were stuck was actually not too far from the main road, we left the car as-is. We drove him to his buddies while his partner stayed at the car. As we neared the campground, the sun had set, so it took a bit to locate his friends’ site. As we drove away, we commented how lucky he was that we came along. He had no water on him and probably would have kept walking down the road for at least another mile before making the call to turn back. By that time, he would have been hiking in the dark, with the flashlight on his phone as the only source of light.

Back on the S2, we continued the long drive home. I took it a bit slower up from the desert, but knew we would now be back in “civilization” and my car anxiety lessened. All in all, quite a day. A good solid desert hike, got to cross off a peak from the San Diego Sierra Club list, helped some stranded people, and enjoyed some quality hiking time with some friends.

Update: I disconnected and then reconnected the car battery and the warning lights cleared. This issue has occurred before to other Outback owners, but I will be mindful of it over the coming days.

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.

El Cajon Mountain

The original plan was to take advantage of the cooler temperatures in Anza-Borrego and summit Kay Benchmark. Unfortunately, Ted injured his foot and could not join me, so I opted to finish the San Diego Six Pack of Peaks Challenge by climbing El Cajon Mountain. I parked along the shoulder of Wildcat Canyon, as the parking lot was not yet open. A bright moon hung in the sky to the west, I gathered my gear and set off under its light.

As I made my way along the familiar trail, the pre-dawn light began to increase until my moon shadow faded away. The sun was poking out from behind the mountain as I made my first small descent. This hike is “famous” for the fact you get to climb up and down several bumps along the way to the summit, and of course, do them again upon your return.

Portions of the trail certainly suffered some damage from Tropical Storm Hillary, as there were some good-sized ruts along the way. As I continued cruising along toward the summit, a few folks passed me, but I was in no hurry. I stopped at the rusting jeep and had a snack before the final push to the top.

Once at the summit, I enjoyed my PB&J and some orange slices. As a few other climbers mingled about, I snapped a few photos and began my descent. That is when my knees began to hurt. Back at the jeep, I applied some Voltaren, hoping it might provide some pain relief. I reduced my pace and stride length to see if that helped. I pushed on back to the car, fighting through the discomfort. Once back at the car, I headed home, looking forward to putting some ice packs on my aching knees.

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.

Palomar High Point (via Oak Grove)

Normally at this time of year, I would be hiking some of the peaks on the SoCal Six-Pack of Peaks challenge. Sadly, the recent fires have closed many of the peaks I need to summit. I instead opted to knock out one of the peaks I needed to climb for the San Diego Six-Pack of Peaks challenge, Palomar High Point. I pulled into the parking area a touch before dawn. After lacing up my hiking shoes and putting my America the Beautiful pass on my dashboard, I set off.

It was brisk, but I knew the day would be warm later, so I followed the standard mantra “Be bold, start cold!” Some nice trail signage guided me through the network of options that exist at the start of this hike. The sun had not yet crested over Hot Springs Mountain as I began working my way up the trail. Soon, I saw the orange glow on the slopes above me and began keeping an eye out for that first bit of the sun rising.

The trail was as I remembered, and I made good time up to where it connects with the Oak Grove Truck Trail. I had nice views of San Gorgonio and San Jacinto to my north, and Santiago Peak to the northwest. Off to the west, I could pick out Agua Tibia and Eagle Crag.

I reached the junction with High Point Truck Trail and took a short break. I remembered the next stretch of road was a bit steeper and unlike the Oak Grove Truck Trail, open to vehicles. After about 1.2 miles, I reached the junction with the Palomar Divide Truck Trail. There was a nice downed oak tree for me to take another break and mix up some electrolytes before the final push to the summit. I took a well-earned break, enjoying my snack and the views of the observatory domes to the west. A pair of motorcycle riders pulled up and stopped for a quick break. After they left, I chatted with the gentleman staffing the tower for a bit and he awarded me the Order of the Squirrel card! Been wanting to get one of those for some time…

As much as I wanted to linger, I had 6.5 miles to hike down to the car. My left hip started to give me some pain as I hiked along the road. At each break, I would try to stretch it out to see if that might help. For a while, it did ease and I could hold a better pace. Near the summit, I met another challenger. We chatted briefly, and he mentioned he might have lost his Garmin InReach near the start of the hike. I offered to keep an eye out for it.

The day was getting warmer and I needed to be a bit mindful of my water. I had bought two 1.5 liter bottles the day before, but they were too wide to fit into my waist pack, so I only had a total of 2.5 liters on me. That other half liter sure would have been welcomed. I worked my way down the trail, leaving the road walking behind. I kept an eye out for the possible missing Garmin but never spotted it. As I neared my car, a group of wild turkeys walked past. The entire hike took me 7:05, including that nice break at the summit. Not bad, especially with my hip bugging me. I grabbed some cold drinks and snacks from Don’s in Santa Ysabel and cruised home. One more peak to wrap up this year’s San Diego Six-Pack of Peaks Challenge.

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.