Five by Five in Big Bear

With my usual afternoon class rescheduled for Friday, I decided to take advantage of the free day and head up to Big Bear for some peak bagging adventures. Another reason for this trip was that the road to three of the peaks would be closing on Nov. 1 for bald eagle nesting. As I drove up the 215, I wished Ted was with me; the sunrise was spectacular, and he could have photographed it. I made it up Highway 18 well before the construction closure started at 8. I turned onto Rim of the World Drive and then onto Forest Road 2N13. At the junction with FR 2N70, I turned onto it, as there was a nice turnout for parking. It was brisk, so I slipped on my fleece, beanie, and full gloves. I carefully made my way down the short slope and then across Grout Creek. Then I worked my way up the steep slope until I connected with the Grays Peak Trail. Once on it, I cruised along toward the summit. The effort up the slope warmed me, so I shed my layers and kept going. Soon the summit came into view. I found the register and a couple of summit signs. Off to the west, I could see the fire lookout atop Butler Peak, my next summit, but first I had to get back to the car. A nice set of cairns marked the location where I should leave the maintained trail and start down the steep slope. I could see the Outback below me. My route down was a little easier, as I could see my options more easily. Back at the car, I pulled my layers out of the pack and tossed them on the back seat. Now to drive over to Butler Peak.

Along the way, I passed a couple of hunters out looking for deer. They said so far just does and fawns, and one bear. Since I spotted the flag flying atop the lookout tower, I knew the gate would be open, so I drove on up to the parking area. I parked and followed the trail to the tower base. A shady spot held just a touch of snow. While San Gorgonio and San Bernardino were still covered in white, these mountains were completely snow-free. I climbed the steep stairs to the tower, where it was staffed by two volunteers. We chatted a bit about the area. I have been to many towers, so the Fire Lookout Tower 101 talk wasn’t needed. I did, however, obtain my Order of the Squirrel card. Off to the west stood my third peak, Crafts Peak.

Originally, I wanted to hike this via the road from Green Valley Campground, but the construction closure prevented that. Instead, I would have to tackle it from the north. I found a parking spot, gathered my gear, and headed off. Initially, I had an abandoned road to follow, but that ended, and now I loosely followed the Sierra Club gpx track loaded on my phone. My route had me climbing up another steep slope. Unlike the climb up Grays, this one kept going, and the ground was covered in pine needles, making footing a challenge at times. I worked around some ceanothus and, checking my position, knew I was nearing the summit. That’s where the real effort would start. A swath of thigh-high brush spread out before me, with no clear way to pass through it easily. I picked my way as best I could, but I felt thorns poke me as I bushwhacked through it. Finally, I reached the road from the campground, then a small use trail to the summit. I took in the views, had my lunch, and plucked a few thorns out of my legs. After the break, it was time to fight my way through the brush again. I tried to follow my stored route more closely, and it helped only slightly. I did pick up a helium balloon as I exited the brush. Now I just had to descend that steep, pine-needle-covered slope. That descent was too difficult, and soon I was back at the car. Three peaks down, and it was still early afternoon. Maybe I could squeeze in another peak or two? The construction closure doesn’t end until 4, so why not?

I drove back to Rim of the World Drive and turned onto FR 3N12 (Delamar Mountain Road) until it reached Little Bear Spring Road. Just past this junction, I pulled into Yellow Post Site #5. After finishing chatting with my daughter in DC, I set off along the trail. This portion of the route appears to have been a road. The peak came into view, thankfully not too far away, as my legs were feeling those steep ascents. The summit had neither a register nor a sign, but given the easy nature and great view, I am not surprised. Off to my east, I could see my next target, Delamar Mountain. Back at the car, I saw I still had over an hour until the road reopened (or take the long way around the lake).

I continued up Delamar Road until it met the PCT. There was a nice parking area. I wonder how much “trail magic” might have happened here? Unfortunately, my route to the summit wouldn’t follow the PCT, but instead cross-country to the summit. I followed an old firebreak for a bit until I found a faint-use trail that led to another old road. Just around the bend, the trail continued up. While the first section had been steep, my route became even steeper. Between all the other ascents, my legs were feeling it. Thankfully, the summit wasn’t that far away. I pushed on up and finally reached a mound of boulders that denoted the summit. While it had a register, there were no signs or views to be had. Still, knocking out 5 HPS peaks was quite a good day out on the mountains. Now for the long drive home.

Moutain	Distance	Time	Elevation Gain
Grays Peak	2.7 mi	1 hr 41 min	711 ft
Butler Peak	0.23 mi	17 min	45 ft
Crafts Peak	1.9 mi	2 hr 11 min	947 ft
Little Bear Peak	1.6 mi	45 min	188 ft
Delamar Mountain	0.86 mi	53 min	479 ft

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

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. I’ve also conquered several Six-Pack of Peaks challenges (SoCal, San Diego, Central Coast, and both the Arizona-Winter and Arizona-Summer).

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

It’s a Beauty to Iron Spring Mountain…

I met Rick and Andrea at the park-and-ride next to the 76 and the 15. I tossed my gear into their car, as they kindly offered to drive to the trailhead. Our goal today was to summit two peaks on the HPS list, Beauty Peak and Iron Spring Mountain. The 2024 Nixon fire devastated this area, and we figured the recent rains would help dampen the dirt. We found the pullout off Tule Peak Road and gathered our gear. I remembered to slip on my gaiters before heading out. The first part of the hike took us south toward a gully we would use to work our way up to a saddle. While some regrowth had started, lots of burned manzanita still stood around us. The gully quickly ascended, and we carefully made our way up, picking our routes over the various dry falls. Once we reached the boundary of the Beauty Mountain Wilderness Area, we picked up a small use-trail. We had seen a cairn from time to time, but we also knew from previous trip reports we would be double-checking our position against stored tracks on our phones.

We reached a closed road, though the tire tracks suggested that might not be entirely true. We took it west for a short distance until it was time to head off-trail toward Beauty Peak. We wove south toward the summit, which we could see in the distance. After crossing a saddle, we began the final push up its steep, steep slope. I checked later using CalTopo; it measured the slope angle at around 50%! I had the lead, so I plotted a route that avoided a few rocky sections. Soon, the summit came into view. We found the benchmarks and a very damp, moldy register. We sat and had a snack while soaking in the views. This summit sits near the Riverside-San Diego county line, so we had a great view of Palomar Mountain and Oak Grove to our south. To the north, snow covered San Gorgonio and some of San Jacinto. I slipped on a fleece because the breeze made it a bit chilly, especially since I wasn’t moving. We still had another peak to climb, so we didn’t linger long.

We basically retraced our route back to the road. Unfortunately, my fleece got snagged on a branch and tore a small hole. Back on the road, we followed it east for a short distance before heading off-trail again. We could see our goal and started working our way toward it. We did have some poodle dog brush to avoid, but nothing that impacted our route. We found a use-trail from time to time, but the fire had wiped out any solid trail. I again guided us up a very steep slope. We were thankful for a cool day to offset this effort. After a bit, I found myself at the back of our trio and opted to take a side-hike route to what I assumed was the actual summit. Well, it turns out the far bump wasn’t the summit (though they don’t always seem to be). I sat around for a bit until Andrea yelled down from the true summit about 100 yards to my northwest. I climbed back over to them and removed one of the torn gaiters, then had another snack and some electrolytes. This register was in good shape, so we signed in before heading back down.

We debated following our route from the gully to the road for our descent, or going cross-country to reach the gully more directly. We decided to roll the dice and go cross-country. The only real issue was working around the burned trees. Our clothes were already covered in soot, so it didn’t matter too much. Once back at the gully, we again carefully picked our way down. At one dry fall, I spied a use-trail off to the side and decided to follow it. Rick and Andrea trusted me, and we bypassed some rocky sections. Past the gully, we continued northward toward the car. On our way out, we followed an existing track, but on our return, I questioned that. That route had us snaking around a bit, but from where we stood, it seemed we could head straight. There was no formal trail to follow. So we set off and cruised across the landscape. The car came back into view, and smiles spread across our faces. Our pants were covered in soot. My light tan pants showed it all the more. We enjoyed a cold drink while cleaning up before driving back. I was happy to get two more peaks closer to 100.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

Offroading to Chariot Mountain

Continuing the effort to help Ted finish the 100 Peak Challenge, we headed out today to summit Chariot Mountain. As a bonus, our friend Becca joined us. Light rain fell as we drove east to Julian and then down the Banner Grade. At the base of the grade, we turned onto the Chariot Mountain Truck Trail. Instead of hiking down from Sunrise Highway, I wanted to try driving to where you leave the road and follow the old firebreak to the summit. This option had been on my mind since my last climb. The road was fair, with some rocks to avoid and a few ruts to tackle carefully. One rutted section gave me pause, and I had Ted spot me as I navigated it. Along the way, I got a “low tire pressure” warning. We took an initial look, and they all seemed to be holding ok. So we drove on, found a spot to pull off, and took a closer look. I broke out the compressor and added some air. We debated whether to drive the last bit to the trailhead or head back out. I felt okay about the tires (and the can of flat-fix-it), so we kept going. We parked just past the trailhead at a nice turnout. It was a touch chilly as we set off. Quite a difference from the high heat we had at home. In fact, I drove through a couple of nice puddles while making our way out.

Between the cairn and the pile of dead branches. I knew we had found the old firebreak and set off up the mountain. Since Becca had never done any off-trail hiking, we took our time weaving around the brush. We followed the firebreak to the false summit, then crossed the crest to the actual summit. The register was safely tucked in the rocks, along with a summit sign. We snapped our photos and signed in. I pointed out some of the key peaks around us: Granite, Whale, Cuyamaca, and a few others.

We retraced our route back to the car, saw the tires looked fine, and drove back out. Along the way, we passed two other off-roaders starting their adventure. They planned to run the whole road down to the desert floor. After passing an accident on Banner Grade, we grabbed a bite at Heroes Pizza. We initially planned to tackle Pinyon Mountain as well, but between the tire warning and the timing, we skipped it. However, we did stop at Inaja Hill to hike it quickly and cross it off Becca’s list. As we approached Santa Ysabel, we had to navigate around another accident. This one at the intersection of the 78 and the 79. Once safely back in town, we dropped Becca off, then made the short drive back to my house. For Chariot Mountain, I logged 1.2 miles in 1:29 with an elevation gain of 501 feet.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

A cloudy day on Long Valley Peak

With Tropical Storm Rachel approaching, neither Ted nor I wanted to tackle anything major. So I looked at the remaining peaks on Ted’s 100-peak list and settled on Long Valley Peak. Under the cloudy skies, we pulled into the parking lot. A few motorcyclists prepped their bikes while we gathered our gear. I tossed my America the Beautiful pass on the dash and we set off. The trail initially follows the service road for a power line. Since I last hiked this peak, the road had become unfriendly to vehicles. This meant a bit of weaving across the holes they’d dug as the road roller-coastered its way southward for about a mile. In the distance, we could see Los Pinos and the backside of Corte Madera.

Just before the road made a short dogleg, we found the use trail that led to the summit. Turning eastward, we began the real ascent to the summit. The route was fairly easy to follow; in fact, ribbons marked the lower section serving as guides. We could tell these trails had been ridden by motorcycles from the tire tracks in the dirt. We soon came to a point where the trail became too steep and too brushy for a rider to attempt, as we worked our way to the summit. After cresting past a false summit, we made it up the final slope to the top.

Here we found the register, which sadly was full, and a couple of summit signs. We took a break and soaked in the view. One nice thing about this peak is that it offers a 360° view. We spotted rain off to the south in Mexico and figured we should start our descent. Partway down, we spotted a cloud of dust from a motorcycle heading up the trail. We stopped and waited for it to reach us before continuing. We chatted with the rider once he made it up. He was one of the riders from the parking lot. He wished us luck for the rest of our hike, and we reciprocated for his ride.

Once back on the service road, we thought about lunch, and once back at the car, we loaded up our gear. As we drove back into town, the forecasted rains came, so we timed it just right. With a little planning and luck, Ted just might finish the 100 Peak Challenge and the San Diego Sierra Club 100 Peak list in 2027! I logged this hike at 4.1 miles, in 2:53, with an elevation gain of 1,123 feet.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

Return to the Desert Divide

With this incredibly hot San Diego heat wave, I started looking for hikes I could do. I also had to make sure my hiking partner was back in town on time so he and his wife could attend a play. I settled on Pine Mountain along the Desert Divide. Despite the area’s name, the forecast looked quite reasonable. We turned on Morris Ranch Road and drove the paved road to the trailhead. A few cars were already parked as we gathered our gear before making a short walk to the trail. Passing through the gate, the trail worked its way eastward via an easement from the Girl Scout Camp. We passed through a couple more gates until we came to an open meadow. There we encountered some Texas Longhorns enjoying some grass in the early morning and mindfully hiked past them. As the canyon narrowed, the trail began a series of switchbacks toward the junction with the Pacific Crest Trail.

Once at the saddle, we took a short break while I adjusted my socks. As we sat under the shade of a large oak tree, more cattle came walking down the trail. Unlike the openness of the meadow earlier, we had a narrower trail to contend with here. We waited a bit to let them move down the PCT before hopefully finding a spot to pass them. Thankfully, we got around them and cruised along the trail for about 1.5 miles. I spied a cairn around where I expected to leave the PCT and began our off-trail portion. After a quick climb up the slope, we turned north following a use trail. We could see Pine Mountain to our east and the saddle we needed to drop down into. Another cairn marked the turn down to the saddle. We followed the trail down the steep slope to the saddle, weaving past the brush.

Now it was time for the final climb to the summit. Having a waypoint labeled “Least Brushy Route” was not encouraging. We started climbing, following the use trail and cairns toward the peak. As we neared that waypoint, I led us slightly off course. We poked around for a path or the next cairn, but found nothing. We could see that we were close to the stored track, but not quite on it. After working back to our last cairn, we finally found the correct route. This led right past some pine trees that we had guessed might be where the trail was while we were off course. The actual summit sits a bit further east from where we were, so we still had a little bit to go before we reached the proper summit.

I found the register and signed us in. A benchmark might have been atop a nearby boulder, but I opted not to attempt to scale it. After some photos and a snack break, we retraced our route. The return to PCT went fairly well, except for my one misstep where I wound up on all fours, stepping over a log. That’s where we think I lost my water bottle from my shoulder pocket. It even has a strap to prevent this, but I forgot to use it. Ugh!

Once back on the PCT, we cruised back to the junction with the Cedar Springs Trail. Just before we got there, we again had to navigate past the cows. The day had warmed up some, but the strong breeze helped to keep us cool. I made a quick walk over to Desert View Peak before starting the switchbacks back down.

Although the sun was no longer blocked by the mountains, it wasn’t too warm for our descent. Before long, we passed through the various gates again and eventually made it back to the car. After tossing in our gear and changing into dry shirts, we drove out to the Paradise Valley Cafe for a well-earned lunch. That was #79 off the HPS list for me. The hike was 9.1 miles in 5:25 with an elevation gain of 1,936 feet.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

A SOS call at Soldier Lake

After submitting our strategic analysis report assignment, I took a few days for some end-of-season Sierra backpacking, and I was lucky enough to tackle another 14er: Mt. Langley. Since there were no permits for the traditional route from Cottonwood Lakes, I opted to tackle it from the west side instead. Almost a mini-version of how I summited Mt. Whitney. Since I was returning to the same trailhead, I didn’t need to arrange a shuttle, and it meant I could sleep at Horseshoe Meadows before starting the next morning. I made a quick stop in Lone Pine to grab some firewood and dinner for later. I opted to get a pizza and a salad to eat at the campsite, because why not. Once there, I found a good spot for the Outback and enjoyed my dinner before setting up the Luno mattress in the back. After that, I chatted with another camper for a bit. He was getting ready to backpack Whitney from the Portal. I got the fire going, and we continued our conversation as the flames danced about and the nearly full moon rose.

We both had early start times, so eventually I put the fire out and retired to my car. I slept ok, but around 5 am the cold and the call of nature collided. I was able to grab another 45 minutes of sleep. I brewed some coffee and ate my Mountain House Biscuits and Gravy. After breakfast and repacking the car, I wished the other camper goodbye and good luck, then moved my car closer to the trailhead instead of the walk-in campground. I set off down a very familiar trail, but this time trying to keep an even more mellow pace. Just past the first creek crossing, a series of stock horses passed by. As I waited for the dust to settle, I shed a layer. It had dropped to 33°F overnight, so it was chilly, but the sun was up, and hiking warmed me enough to pack away my fleece.

The climb up to Cottonwood Pass went easily, as easy as climbing any Sierra Pass can be. I took a short break and pushed on. There was a light breeze, so when I stopped I got a bit of a chill, but when I was hiking along, it felt just right. Originally I had planned to stop at Chickenspring Lake and filter some water, but between the coffee, OJ, and a Gatorade, I had barely drunk anything during the ascent.

The short climb past the lake seemed easier this time. I wonder if I am carrying less anxiety with me…. The trail would slowly descend until I reached the junction with the Rock Creek Trail. Unlike last time, I definitely felt the trail’s sandy nature. I got lucky on my Whitney hike, as it had rained a day or two before, compacting the sand some. I also had to watch out for fresh horse poop.

Along the way, I chatted with two southbound hikers: one was section hiking the PCT, and the other was doing a 7-day “walkabout.” I filled them in on the trail ahead before parting ways. I could feel the difference in effort of hiking on this sandy soil as my energy levels dropped. A fruit bar helped for a bit, but soon I was dreaming of my lunch at the trail junction. Once I was finally there, I found a nice spot to slip off my pack and start chowing down. The food, electrolytes, and the break itself all worked wonders. I still had over two miles to Soldier Lake and some choices to make.

Thankfully, the trail left the sand behind and didn’t have much elevation gain before reaching Soldier Lake. I passed by a couple of sites, the bear locker, before stopping to chat with a father and daughter. They mentioned some sites ahead were closed for restoration, but I planned to work my way toward Upper Soldier Lake and scout the route up before setting up camp. I explored the peninsula and found some stunning campsites. I found two possible trails around the lake, but both quickly became boggy, and I didn’t want to continue across questionable terrain. Plus, I was not entirely sure there was a trail up to the Langley Trail. So I chose the first site I saw.

I quickly set up camp, filtered some water, and relaxed, taking in the stunning views. As the sun crept lower, I made dinner and ate it sitting on an almost perfect granite seat. I set an alarm for 4 am and turned in. My sleep setup kept me nice and toasty. I tucked my electronics and water filter into my food insulation bag to keep them from the cold.

After answering the call of nature around midnight, I noticed a noticeable headache. I drank some water and took ibuprofen, but I needed to be mindful, as it could be an early sign of altitude sickness. Since I was solo, I had to be extra cautious and monitor for worsening symptoms. As I drifted back to sleep, I would see how I was in the morning and go from there. The alarm woke me up, and I began to break camp. I boiled some water for coffee and oatmeal. The moon still shone brightly, and I almost didn’t need my headlamp. My headache was better, but not gone. I decided to continue up New Army Pass Trail and decide there. If it got worse, I could drop down and either camp at Cottonwood Lakes or push on to the car.

As I set off back down the trail, two hikers were just off trail. I stopped to see where they were headed. I figured they might be going for Mt. Langley as well, and we could set out together. However, one of the hikers was not in great shape. His buddy said he was having trouble breathing and could hear a crackling in his chest. In addition, he hadn’t slept at all, and his face showed it. My Wilderness First Aid training kicked in immediately. I knew the only course of action was to get him to a lower elevation, as it appeared that he was developing a case of High Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE). The problem was that it was easier said than done to get him down. It was over 6 miles back to Cottonwood Pass, and not the easiest miles. The Ranger Station at Rock Creek was about 4 miles away. Since a stock train ran yesterday, the Ranger should be there, but that also meant going farther into the backcountry. I also hadn’t hiked that trail, so I wasn’t sure what it might be like. They wanted to try to self-rescue, so I suggested we aim for the PCT junction. It would be a known landmark, and by the time we reached it, it would be daylight, making any rescue easier. The three of us set off, but it quickly became apparent that we had to scrap the plan. We covered 0.2 miles in about 30 minutes. I convinced him to make the SOS call on his Garmin. I had suggested this earlier, but they weren’t ready to make the call. I told them we were at a good location, a wide meadow for a helicopter to land and open skies to make the satellite comms easy. He pressed the button and began communicating with SAR. Once the process was safely underway, I told them to break out their sleeping pads and bags to keep warm while they waited. I debated staying, but felt like the situation was now under control and I couldn’t offer any more help. They gave me a grateful hug and said they would text me once they were out.

I took this as a sign that I shouldn’t even try for Mt. Langley or even New Army Pass, but just hike out. At the junction with the PCT, I shed a layer and stowed my headlamp. Once back on the PCT, I slogged along, and I knew that even if we made this far, the effort to hike on this sand would have been too much. From time to time, I would stop and look back at the early morning light spilling out across the mountains.

Finally, I made it back to Cottonwood Pass and took another break. I swapped out my slightly warmer base layer for my Sun hoodie, since I no longer had the mountains blocking the sun as I descended back into Horseshoe Meadows.

I wasn’t rushing back to the car, partly because I was bummed about not getting Mt. Langley, but also because I was still thinking about those hikers. I met a few backpackers heading up the trail. This included a group of four planning to attempt Mt. Langley the next day. What was interesting is that they were going to camp at Chickenspring Lake and start around 3 am. It was just after 10 am and that seemed way too early to stop. Plus, they had some big packs on their back. I suggested they push on to Soldier Lake and make the short backtrack to New Army Pass Trail, which was the route they were planning to use.

As I passed by Horseshoe Meadow, I saw a flat hat (aka Ranger) walking out to inform some visitors not to be out in the meadow proper. Once back at the car, I tossed my pack in and spread out my tent to dry across the back. The downside of being near that meadow and lake is that some condensation is a possibility. My sleeping bag also would need to be dried once I got home. But now it was time to drive down to Lone Pine, grab a quick lunch, and head home.

Later that night, I got a text from those hikers. Ranger Colin had hiked out from Rock Creek and assessed his condition. A CHP copter was called in, and they airlifted him out. After some oxygen and evaluation, he was released. His buddy hiked back out to Horseshoe and also commented on how tough that section is from the PCT junction to Cottonwood Pass. We made sure to give him the car keys before I left them back at Soldier Lake. As beautiful as Soldier Lake was, I think my next attempt for Mt. Langley will be the more traditional route from Cottonwood Lakes instead.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

Exploring Red Tahquitz

I debated which HPS mountain(s) I would climb today and finally settled on Red Tahquitz and then maybe continuing down to South Peak. I skipped these peaks when I backpacked this section of the PCT, so I wanted to come back up and summit them. After driving through the fog around Hemet, I pulled into Humber Park and grabbed a parking spot. At 7:30 in the morning, it was filling up quickly. Some folks were gearing up to rock climb up nearby Lily Rock, while others were headed up the Devil’s Slide Trail, either to Tahquitz Lookout or San Jacinto itself. Since the tram is closed for its annual maintenance in September, this is the easiest open route to the summit.

I set off along the familiar trail, climbing up toward Saddle Junction. Before too long, I wound up hiking with someone who just moved to San Diego. I filled him in on various hiking opportunities. He and his girlfriend are considering overnighting around Cottonwood Pass, so I gave some insight about that region as well. Once at the summit, he headed north to San Jacinto, and I turned south along the PCT. As I climbed toward Tahquitz Lookout, a San Bernardino helicopter flew around the area. I assumed it was just on patrol. I decided to skip hiking over to the Lookout; I was still feeling a bit off after my flu vaccine shot earlier in the week. I dropped down toward Tahquitz Creek, which was flowing slightly. I brought my filter in case I needed more water after either ascent.

I cruised along this section of the trail, as it was “flattish,” and kept an eye out for the turnoff from the PCT onto the use trail for Red Tahquitz. I had no trouble locating it, and began the moderately steep ascent. It was not as bad as the climb to Castle Rocks, but my calves still burned as I followed the fairly well-marked route. Even before I reached the summit, I knew I would skip the hike down to South Peak, as I just wasn’t feeling up to tackling two peaks in the same day.

The trail began to fade as it reached what appeared to be the summit, but it re-formed and led me past the false summit and onto the true summit just a bit to the south. Thankfully, the route went around the false summit, with little elevation loss or gain. This was the edge of the Cranston fire from 2018. While shade was hard to come by, the views were something! The register box seemed rusted shut. I tried a few times to open it, but didn’t want to need a tetanus shot from doing so. I had some snacks and electrolytes before snapping some photos. I stared down at the Desert Divide, amazed that I had backpacked up. With some luck, maybe I will find some friends to climb South Peak with me, and we can do it as a car shuttle….

Once back on the PCT, I enjoyed the forest smells and the peace of being outside. I wisely decided to take the Camba trail back to Saddle Junction to save me about 250 feet of elevation gain. At Saddle Junction, I took a lunch break before heading down as I could feel my energy dropping, and I was in no rush. I also drank down more electrolytes to help my calves.

From time to time, hikers would pass, some heading back down, others off exploring a bit. I wound up hiking down with another hiker, who was also from San Diego. Along the way, a troop of Boy Scouts was slowly making their ascent. Their packs were almost bursting with gear, and their faces showed the strain. Before too long, the end of the trail came into view. My fellow hiker thanked me for the conversation, as it made the descent go quicker. I tossed my gear into the car and chatted with some climbers who were also from San Diego. Before driving down the hill, I stopped by a good friend’s house and chatted for a bit. Just 22 peaks left to reach 100! This adventure was 11.6 miles with 2,895 feet of gain, and it took 5:46.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

Climbing Indian Mountain in Idyllwild

My final peak of the day was Indian Mountain. In retrospect, I should have done this one first, as it is the lowest of the three and the most exposed. I parked at the Indian Vista parking area, refilled my water bottles, tossed a cold Coke into my pack, and set off. The route would be about 99% along the Indian Mountain Truck Trail, then a short, brushy use trail to the summit. This hike is also a V hike, as I would descend from the trailhead down to a saddle before climbing up toward the summit. I had read that this road was a bit more difficult, so I opted not to test my Outback on it. As I made my way down, I began to second-guess myself. It sure would have been nice to just drive up this road on my return rather than hike it under the sun. Then, I got to the first interesting section of the road. I looked at it and thought, “with a little care, I think I could navigate that”. Later, I hiked past a few more “spicy” sections of the road and resigned myself to the fact that, without a spotter to guide me, I would have had a bit of an issue. Nothing was too complex, but solo, and with the Outback’s long wheelbase, the drive could push the car past its limits.

Once I reached the saddle, I began the climb toward the summit. During the descent, what you think is the peak isn’t, as it sits behind it. After about 3 miles, I needed a break from the heat and the climb, so I stopped in the shade. I looked at the map and didn’t have much further to go, and without much elevation either. Once I felt ready, I pushed on. I passed a couple of tall pines that offered plenty of shade. Given how little I had enjoyed so far, I noted them in case the actual summit didn’t have a place to relax. I found the use trail to the summit and wove my way through the chaparral. I climbed some of the summit block, but like Castle Rocks, I did not scramble to the true top. I was right about the lack of shade here, and after a few photos, headed back to those pine trees for a lunch break.

A little breeze helped me cool off as I drank my electrolytes and the Coke I brought. Now recharged, I set off back to the trailhead. Once at the saddle, I took a deep breath and began a measured pace up the road. I grabbed some trash that was beside the road and stuffed it into my pack. Thankfully, before long, I heard cars on the highway and knew the hike was almost over. Back at the car, I grabbed another cold Coke and quickly drank it. The entire hike was 5.8 miles, had an elevation gain of 1,165 feet, and it took me 2:23 (not counting my lunch break). I then drove back into Idyllwild to visit with some friends. Sadly, one was under the weather, so I had a burger and beer at the Idyllwild Brewpub before driving home.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

Visiting the Black Mountain Lookout Tower

I turned off Black Mountain Truck Trail and drove a short distance to the Boulder Basin Campground. This road was slightly rougher, so I had to watch for a few rocks during the drive to the campground. When I arrived, the campground appeared empty. I wondered whether that would change over the upcoming Labor Day holiday, or whether the fire ban in place was keeping the site vacant. I parked under some shade and placed my America the Beautiful pass on my dashboard, just in case a ranger passed through. From the parking area, I followed the service road up toward the lookout tower. Unfortunately, a sign on the locked gate indicated the tower wasn’t staffed today. No matter, I’m already a card-carrying member of the “Ancient and Honorable Order of Squirrels“.

The road led to the summit, and a short, paved path took me from the road to the tower itself. I had some commanding views of the west side of San Jacinto and the lands beyond. Although the upper tower was closed, I climbed partway up the stairs to really enjoy the views. After a quick break, I retraced my route back to the car. Now to return to the Palm to Pines Scenic Byway (aka Hwy 243) and my final peak of the day, Indian Mountain. The hike to the tower was 1.3 miles with a modest climb of 272 feet, and it took me 34 minutes.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.

Hiking Fuller Ridge to Castle Rocks

With some possible weather arriving over the weekend, I opted to take the day off from my coursework and head up to Idyllwild to do some peakbagging. After passing through Idyllwild and Pine Cove, I turned onto the Black Mountain Truck Trail and began the drive toward the Fuller Ridge Trailhead for the first peak of the day, Castle Rocks. The road began its climb up that mountain and was in pretty good condition. From time to time, sections of asphalt would appear, probably to reduce damage to the road. I passed the junction to Boulder Basin Campground and the Black Mountain Lookout Tower, which I would be stopping at on my return. The road then passed several Yellow Post sites, as it continued its steady climb up the mountain. I had entertained the idea of camping, but didn’t get my act together quickly enough to make it happen.

Soon, I pulled into the Fuller Ridge Trailhead parking area and gathered my gear. My route would follow the Pacific Crest Trail for about 2 miles before leaving it to take a use trail to the summit. This section of the PCT is quite infamous in the early thru-hiking season. Since the trail sits on the north side of the mountain, the snow and ice will linger for some time. Couple that with the steep slope that the trail traverses, and it can be deadly in the wrong conditions. It is speculated that David O’Sullivan died on this stretch of the trail (https://fofound.org/our-work/). In fact, a week or so earlier, searchers were once again scouring the slopes for any sign of him.

I cruised along the trail, only really looking at my route as I neared my exit point. I knew that if I started on the switchbacks, I had gone too far. I spotted a cairn and the faint use trail leading up the very steep slope. Thankfully, the climb to the summit wasn’t going to be very long. As granite rocks began to appear ahead of me, I knew that I was almost at the top. As I reached the summit, I spied the two register cans and the matching rock piles that form Castle Rocks. I slipped off my pack, signed in, and did some exploring. Being solo, I did not attempt any real rock scrambling. After a short rest, a snack, and the various photos and videos, I set off down the use trail. Once back at the PCT, I realized that I left my camera tripod at the summit. I had no desire to climb back up and retrieve it. The descent back to the car went quickly, and with that, my 75th peak on the HPS list was complete. Driving back to Boulder Basin Campground, I swung into each Yellow Post site and took a few photos for later reference. The entire hike to Castle Rocks was 4.0 miles, with 806 feet of gain, and it took 2:08.

I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I co-authored Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!

I look forward to exploring new summits and adventures across the Southwest.