Chayacitra

Fog Banks Rolling Over The Hillsides Near Sierra Madre

I was all set for another exciting weekend of backpacking with the usual suspects, when at the last second- everyone else bailed out. Fortunately, I’ve spent so much of the past year traveling, backpacking, and camping by myself that this no longer poses even the slightest problem for me. Going it alone has become a necessary evil since I started getting serious about my photography, bringing a tripod along on my trips, and needing quite a bit of freedom to “get the right shot”. That’s not an easy task alone, and becomes quite impossible when being hurried along by impatient friends!

It’d been just about a month since I last visited Spruce Grove Campground in Angles National Forest, and I wanted to see if the torrential rains Southern CA experienced over the last couple of weeks had caused any damage to the area. I was somewhat worried that the campground itself could have simply been washed away by the swollen North Fork of the San Gabriel River, but I found out that this was certainly not the case.

I’ve spent more nights at Spruce Grove than any other campground – or anywhere other than the places I’ve “officially” resided over the years – and have developed quite a kinship and appreciate for the place. Trips to Spruce now feel like “returning home”, offering a comfortable familiarity that allows me to quickly settle my mind, and really just enjoy the surroundings.

The drive up the hill to Chantry Flats held an ominous, but beautiful sight, of fog banks slowly rolling over the hillsides to the North (pictured above). In all the trips I’ve made to the area (at least 10-15 now), it was the first time I’ve ever stopped along the way to look out over Los Angeles, and I think it was entirely worth it.

When I arrived at the Chantry Pack Station I found that it was already too late to get a legitimate parking spot so I positioned my car along the side of the hill in a somewhat precarious position right over a drainage ditch leading off the hillside and down into Santa Anita Canyon. If it had rained hard enough, my car could have easily washed away.

Overlooking Santa Anita Canyon - Self Portrait

I posed for a quick self-portrait (just in case someone came upon my camera, but couldn’t find the body), and then was on my merry way. I’m still getting used to the new backpack – a Deuter ACT Lite 65 + 10 – and spent a good deal of the hike adjusting it to try and make things perfectly comfortable. It took me much longer than usual to reach Spruce Grove as I took a detour to check out Sturtevant Falls, hoping to shoot it in even daylight. Unfortunately I arrived too late and wasn’t able to get even a half-way decent shot of it, as the sunlight had totally washed out the upper third of the falls. I’ll have to try again next time.

Along the way up the Lower Falls Trail I heard some odd banging sounds that I figured must have been one of the local denizens working on their cabin, but it turned out to be a man hammering away at the rocky floor along the trail. I stopped to chat with him no more than 100 yards from the “No Horses” sign posted where the Upper and Lower Falls Trails meet, asking him what he was doing. He said that he was “making the trail safer for [his] horse”, which I found hilarious. In all the miles along these trails, there’s only one “No Horses” sign, and this guy was within eyesight of it preparing the trail for his horse- you can’t make shit like this up!

He was essentially chiseling out some steps in the “decomposed granite” floor, creating a flatter and more even surface on which his horse could more confidently step. That part of the trail was pretty iffy, so I don’t mind that he was obviously breaking the local rules. I  figured he might even have been the guy in charge of the horse and mule trains used to resupply Sturtevant’s Camp, so I left the point alone and continued on my way. I later found out that he is somewhat of a local celebrity, “a real old time cowboy” I was told, who’s lead numerous pack trains all the way from the desert east of San Gorgonio to Chantry Flats (which is no easy task!).

At the top of the falls I stopped for another break to sit near one of the larger pools along this part of the San Gabriel River. This is one of my favorite spots along the river in the entire Angeles National Forest and perhaps even one of my favorites in all of Southern California. The sky, the canyon walls, and the river all come together so nicely here, and the roaring sound of the waterfall drowns out any other noise and creates a great spot for relaxation and meditation. I couldn’t resist myself and had to take another self-portrait (though I wish I hadn’t stood right in front of that little waterfall!).

Relaxing At The Top Of Sturtevant Falls In Santa Anita Canyon

When I finally arrived at Spruce Grove I was dismayed to find it busier than I’ve ever seen it before, to the point that I couldn’t even find an open picnic table to sit down at for lunch. I dropped my bag on the ground and used it as a seat (it’s more comfortable than a wooden bench anyway), and was lucky enough that a day-hiking couple cleared out just a minute or two later, making room for me. As luck would have it, I even managed to snag my favorite site! I set up my tent and unpacked my gear right next to a group of Koreans eating some spicy-smelling soup, then finished my peanut butter and jelly lunch.

All the day hikers cleared out no more than 30 minutes after my arrival, leaving only a large group of (very loud) Boy Scouts to the North. I set myself to gathering firewood, planning on collecting for more than usual. On trips like these, I typically go to bed as soon as I run out of wood, but this time I wanted to get enough to make sure that I could stay up all night, if I were so inclined. I went a little overboard though, as you can see below. If I had used it sparingly (hah!), it probably would have been enough to last at least two or three nights at the campground. I even considered trying to borrow the Sturtevant Camp phone to make an emergency call to work, letting them know I wouldn’t be making it in the following day.

Fire Wood Collection - Spruce Grove Campground

Collecting fire wood is an art form that I think most people probably can’t appreciate – mostly because they haven’t done it. Over the past year I’ve turned it into a science, developing my skills and learning which woods to go after (and which to avoid), and how exactly to go about it. I used to try and muscle my way through the branches, breaking them arbitrarily wherever I felt they needed to be snapped, but I’ve since learned to be patient and let the wood do the work for you. I used to work up a sweat, get covered in filth, and typically end the process with at least a bit of blood flowing from each hand, but I’ve learned to calm down, take it slowly, and conserve my energy.

I’ve always really enjoyed snapping sticks, and will still do that if I’m just sitting around idly and have some at hand, but it’s just not as rewarding as shredding large tree branches, snapping them into smaller pieces, and creating a gigantic pile of fuel to protect yourself from the impending cold and dark. I even got to try out my new knife (the incredible SOG Seal Pup Elite TiNi) to make the process a little easier. If it weren’t for campfires, I’m not even sure I’d be able to continue backpacking with as much zeal as I currently exude. Gathering the fire wood and relaxing by the fire has become an integral part of the process. It’s hard for me to believe that I used to do this without having at least a little backcountry fire.

I set up the godsend that is my Therm-a-Rest Compack Chair, awaiting the fall of twilight by settling in to read the final chapters of Carlos Castaneda’s absolutely breathtaking work “Tales of Power”. There’s nothing quite like reading about don Juan and Castaneda’s adventures while sitting in dense forest, right alongside a winding stream, amongst gigantic oak trees and the steepest mountains in the lower 48 states. It was a powerful experience, to say the least.

I still get dirty looks from people when they find out just how often I go backpacking, especially once they realize that I often go it alone, but I that many of them would enjoy it just as much as I do if they’d only get off their asses and try it sometime. Unfortunately this couch-potato, consumerist society in which we live doesn’t value this sort of behavior, and I doubt that the glowing rectangles will lose their strangle-hold over the general population at any point in the near future, so for now it looks like they’ll all have to live vicariously through me. I’d rather it be uncrowded anyway.

Relaxing in the Late Afternoon - Spruce Grove Campground

When night did finally fall, it came damn fast – the rush of darkness was so quick that I hardly noticed the twilight, that “gap between the two worlds” as don Juan calls it. I got my fire going relatively easily, especially considering how wet all my wood was. It took me three matches and two Coghlan emergency tinders, which is much better than usual, though still far short of my goal of using just 1 match without any chemical assistance. I know that I’m capable of performing that feat, but I always end up being too lazy to properly prepare for achieving it. Maybe next time…

For the next few hours I sat quietly by the glow of the fire, snapping hundreds of photos for my Fire Art Photography series, and just enjoying the beauty of the environment. It’s times like these when I actually feel like a human being, rather than some sort of automaton worker sent here to labor away in front of a computer terminal. It’s times like these that make the daily grind worth all the trouble!

At some point (pretty late I think – though I’m still uncertain) – I let the fire burn down too low and was unable to resurrect it, forcing me to retire to the tent for the rest of the night. As I lay down I noticed that I had accidentally given myself a great view of the near full moon (1 day past full) rising through the trees. I fell asleep listening to the sounds of the forest, and didn’t wake up until 11 am the next morning. It was a great trip, but I’ll have to return soon to take care of some unfinished business since my camera battery died first thing the next morning.

Santa Anita Canyon, Angeles National Forest

You could say that Mt. Wilson and I share a love, hate relationship, which has nearly turned violent on a couple of past occasions, including my first solo attempt at the peak last January when Mt. Wilson literally tried to kill me. This weekend, however, things worked out quite well, the Gods of Mt. Wilson smiled upon me, and I managed to make my way to the top and back down without any major incidents.

I’d been planning my triumphant return to the top of Mt. Wilson for months, though for one reason or another, things kept cropping up and keeping me from reaching the peak again. It’s not that the hike itself is all that difficult, but that it requires a significant mental commitment to complete. I’ve been back to base camp (Spruce Grove campground) quite a few times since my last ascent, but the relative comfort and tranquility of the area often makes it tough to motivate myself to leave. It may seem like a poor trade-off, abandoning the secluded beauty and peacefulness of Santa Anita Canyon for an arduous 2,500 foot elevation climb up to the top, but the view up there is entirely worth it.

I wanted to get back to the peak to get a look at the devastation wrought by the recent Station Fire so I could document the damage with my camera. I had attempted to do the same thing a couple months back, just after the fire, when I hiked up to Newcomb Pass during an aborted attempt at reaching Devore Campground, but the view was obstructed and the photos turned out like shit, which is why I’ve since updated that post with shots from this weekend’s trip.

Based on Chayacitra’s Google Analytics data, I could tell that I wasn’t the only one interested in seeing the burn zone, so I figured I would take one for the team and drag my tripod along on this outing, which is something I’ve never tried before. It was entirely worth the effort (not for the shots from the top, but for those taken down in the canyon), which has convinced me that, 1. I should always take a tripod along, and 2. I need a lighter tripod.

None of my shots from the top look fantastic, and I was pretty disappointed to find such terrible lighting conditions when I got up there, but the hazy skies and constant cloud cover didn’t stop me from  having a good time anyway. And even if the pictures do suck, as I’ve said before, the Station Fire and it’s aftermath still afford us with a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness impermanence, interconnectedness, and creation/destruction on a simply massive scale. I think there’s a great lesson in this fire for each of us, which is why I’ve been so intent to get these pictures taken and posted. So without further ado, here is their story.

I got up at 6:30 on Saturday morning and cooked up one of my famous omelettes to load up on some protein before finalizing my last second packing, then hopped in the car and sped off. I remembered at the last second that I was missing the most important backpacking food ever- bread, cheese, and grapes- but thankfully my local Ralphs was already open. I don’t know what had possessed me to plan on surviving with just cliff bars and trail mix this time around, but I’m damn glad I figured things out at the last second. There’s simply nothing like a good loaf of bread, some chipotle cheese, and a bag of grapes out on the trail.

I was even fortunate enough to run into some of the best customer service I’ve ever personally experienced, when the Ralph’s deli guy went completely out of his way to stop me from taking one of “yesterday’s” loaves of bread, replacing it with one that was piping-hot and literally fresh-out-of-the-oven. As it turned out, that loaf was so good at retaining heat that even hours later, in 40 degree temperature weather out in the middle of the wilderness, I was treated to a meal of hot bread!

When I arrived at the Chantry Flat parking area, the regular early morning Parking Rodeo was in full effect, with the Ranger playing parking lot attendant. It was a big mess, with a bunch of non-English speakers trying to figure out her instructions, and doing some of the worst parking I’ve ever seen. I was glad that I had packed all my stuff up beforehand so I could get on the trail quickly.

I totally screwed the pooch though and had completely forgotten to renew my Angeles National Forest Adventure Pass, which had apparently expired in November. I thought I had at least another month left on the damn thing, but apparently my timing was way off. I wasn’t about to sit around for an hour waiting for the pack station to open so I could buy a new one though, and since the tickets are immediatley forgiven as soon as one provides proof of their valid pass purchase, I figured it didn’t matter anyway.

Dam Along the San Gabriel River - Angeles National Forest

Though the weather was perfect and I had been expecting to have to wade my way through people, I found the trail itself to be relatively empty. Like usual, I was somewhat disappointed at the lack of spectacular views on the hike out, but I think I’m just spoiled, and that it’s unfair to compare Angeles with the likes of Death Valley, the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Saguaro, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia National Park, all of which I’ve been to in the past 3 months. While those places are all far more impressive than Angeles, none of them less than an hour outside of a major metropolitan area. And while the Angeles National Forest may not provide the most amazing scenery in the country, it sure is conveniently located for those of us stuck here in Southern CA. And for that, I absolutely adore the place.

My hike seemed a bit tougher than usual, but I think it’s partially because I haven’t done any proper backpacking since I visited Saguaro in October. Or it could have been the added weight of my new, heavier backpack, and the addition of the tripod, which as I stated above, I’d never carried into Angeles before. Either way, the 3.5+ mile trip didn’t take very long at all though, and I didn’t even have to take a single rest break, but I was definitely feeling the load on my back by the time I pulled into Spruce Grove.

Now that I’ve spent so many nights there, it almost feels like coming home when I arrive at the campground, and I was delighted to once again find it completely unoccupied. Apparently I’ve got some kind of amazing luck, because the local Ranger swears that the only time the place is deserted like that is when I’m around. I guess I just know how to pick the right weekends!

After arriving I unpacked enough to get my lunch supplies out and was totally shocked to find my loaf of bread still warm enough to release a stream of steam each time I cracked a new piece off the end. It made for a great meal, and an absolute treat, considering it was already cold enough that I had to put on my thermal pants, beanie, and fleece gloves. And it was still just 10:00 am! (Though I do get cold easily).

Once I managed to get warm I set up the tent and stowed my gear, then snapped a couple pictures of the campground so you could all see just what it looks like, and perhaps get an idea of why I like it so much.

Spruce Grove Campground - Angeles National Forest

Spruce Grove is definitely one of my favorite Southern California campground, mostly because it’s usually empty, right next to the stream (allowing easy access to filtering water), and relatively warmer than the surrounding area due to the thick tree canopy. I think I’ve spent something like 20-30 nights here now and I’ll definitely keep racking them up throughout this year, though with the loss of the Northern Angeles to the Station Fire, and my desire to start taking on longer trips, I may have to start looking elsewhere. Thankfully there are plenty of other trails around, and I think my next foray may be to head out East into the San Bernadino Mountains. Perhaps another shot at San Jacinto is even in order.

For now though, Spruce Grove remains my home base, and as every other time before, it served me quite well on this trip. Someone had been kind enough to do some pretty extensive fire-wood collecting, and little fire-wood burning, so I was even able to scavenge some excellent pieces of wood from the area immediately surrounding the campsite. I then collected up the obligatory load of tree branches, pulled them to pieces, and piled up what I figured would be enough wood to last a few hours.

As always, I enjoyed the process, and for the first time even remembered to use my gloves and rain jacket to keep myself from getting scraped up and filthy. It’s amazing how long it’s taken me to develop the skill, but I’m finally getting better at efficiently breaking down tree limbs and using their stress points and weak spots to break them up. I no longer decide how long I want each piece of wood to be, but instead go with the flow of the branch itself, and allow it to snap at the points of it’s own choosing. While I may not get the “perfect pile” or “perfect length” of wood each time, it sure saves me a lot of energy. And it certainly feels much more “Zen” to do it this way.

Fire Wood - Spruce Grove Campground - Angeles National Forest

After working up a sweat preparing the evening’s fuel I laid down and listened to the sounds of the forest around me, deeply enjoying the gurgling sounds of the local stream. A half hour or later I was ready to get to it again so I collected up my camera and tripod, then headed South along the trail, looking for potential photography subjects. I’ve shot this area probably 10-15 times now, but never with a tripod before, and even with the assistance of my K10D’s “Shake Reduction” technology, I’ve never managed to hold the camera steady enough for properly exposed photos. I’ve always had to trade off between sharpness and depth of field, which isn’t quite the way I like to pursue my art. And even though I’m shooting with a wide angle lens there’s so little available light due to the thick tree cover that my exposures typically require 1/4th a second or even longer- far too long for hand-held shots.

This time around, however, I was able to capture a few images that I really like, thanks to the help of my Amvona AT-L 101T Tripod. In particular, I was quite pleased to finally snag properly exposed and sharp photos of some mossy logs that I’ve been trying to shoot for over a year, but never had any luck with! Here are a few of my favorite shots from the afternoon.

Stream near Spruce Grove - Angeles National Forest

Fallen Leaf - Angeles National Forest

Moss Covered Log - Angeles National Forest

When I got back to camp I was pleased to see the area still unoccupied, but found myself starving, so I chomped down some more bread, cheese, and grapes, then filtered another CamelPak full of water. I’m still flabbergasted at the terrible design flaws in both my Katadyn Hiker Pro Water Filter and Camelbak water bladder though- neither or which have been designed for easy use. There are no convenient hand-holds, handles, or grips of any sort, making solo water pumping far more difficult than it should have to be. It’s never a problem with another person around, but it requires way too much of a juggling act to get it done when I’m alone. Unless each company makes significant strides in their designs, I will not be purchasing anything from them ever again. And if anyone out there knows of easier to use models, please let me know, because I’ve frankly had my fill with each of these (even though they’re both relatively new).

Exacerbating my frustration with operating such poorly-designed gear, one of the denizens of the local cabins (the closest one to Spruce Grove campground) had decided to do some serious construction work at just about the same time that I had fixed on doing some serious relaxation. Unbeknownst to me, though I was later informed by the Ranger, their cabin’s side paneling had not been properly finished and they were quite worried about getting it put fully into place before the first big Winter storm. It sounded to me like they were just pounding hammers to make noise for making noise’s sake, but I guess there was some method to the madness. Either way- it was incredibly obnoxious, keeping me from being able to relax, clear my thoughts, and get any good meditation in. All I could think about was throwing a rock through their cabin’s window (which I’m glad I did not do).

I ended up having to put in my earbuds and take a quick nap- hoping that they’d give up on the hammering after about an hour or so. But of course, they did not. That would have made things too easy for me! My next attempt to escape the annoyance was to head toward a gigantic rock pillar which I’ve planned to climb since I first saw it nearly a year ago, but never actually explored. I slowly made my way to the top, then walked out toward the ledge, sitting about 100 feet up off the canyon floor, meditating for an hour or so, and again enjoying the silence of the forest. I was just far enough away that the incessant hammering sounded more like some kind of distant drum or bass playing, and I was again able to relax and enjoy myself.

As the light began to fade, I hurried back to camp and decided to start up my fire since that’s no easy task even with a headlamp (which I conveniently lost in Death Valley, and had not yet replaced). My first attempt was an abysmal failure, the result of failing to properly prepare my fuel with enough light kindling. I always end up collecting up far too many large and medium sized logs, with way too little of the tiny, easy-to-light stuff, and even after a year of constantly reminding myself to do it right the next time, I still haven’t quite been able to broke myself of the bad habit. Without enough kindling it’s terribly difficult to get a fire to any sort of self-sustainability.

My second fire starting effort turned out to be far more successful,  thanks to a much larger supply of kindling, and the assistance of Coghlan’s Emergency Tinder. That stuff was excellent, incredibly worth it’s price, and far more effective than any of the other similar products that I’ve tried in the past. In fact I’d say this is the best product on the market right now, at least that I know of, and I’ve tried everything that REI carries. The only real drawback of the Coghlan’s stuff is that it’s difficult to use in cold weather, but with a bit of cleverness and a jacket pocket, that’s a relatively simple problem to overcome. It still took me a little over an hour to build up a coal-base hot enough to get my fire to sustainability, but once I hit that point it was all smooth sailing.

Soon after the fall of total darkness the local Ranger stopped by to check in with everyone and make sure that everything was in order. I’ve met him quite a few times and I always enjoy the chance to pick his brain and ask questions about the area. He’s been watching over Sturtevant’s Camp for something like 25 years now, so there’s really no one with a better understanding of that area. I was particularly curious to get his take on the Station Fire damage, and to find out if it was possible for me to get into the burn zone.

Unfortunately, as I suspected, the Ranger said that all trails to the area are now officially closed for some sort of “Reforestation” effort, and that this would probably be the case for some time to come. On the bright side though, even though I could get a decent view of the Northern Angeles from Newcomb Pass (where I was thrown out of last time), he let me know that the Echo Rock viewpoint on top of Mt. Wilson would be a far better bet. And even though my knee and hips had been giving me trouble earlier in the day, so much so that I had abandoned my plan to hit the peak, his advice rekindled my desire to get up there. After our obligatory discussion of the weather, the Ranger was on his way and I found myself again alone with my little fire- just the way I like it.

Fire Art Attempt - Spruce Grove Campground

Another Attempt - Spruce Grove Campground

I chomped down a gigantic cookie, continued working my fire, and tried taking pictures of the flames and the fire’s evolution. I have an idea for a series of photos that I’ll attempt the next time I’m backpacking, which involves documenting the beginning, middle, and final stages of an evening’s fire- similar to what’s posted above, though I’d like to produce a sort of time-lapse sequence capturing a fire’s entire life cycle. I think it could be beautiful! I was enjoying listening to the sounds of the canyon until a very peculiar owl call began to attract my attention. The sound was like none I’d ever heard before- a piercing call ripping through the silent night- soon commanding my total attention. I had wanted to investigate the noises, but started to get cold, tired, and even downright scared.

I had been thinking about some of the concepts from the Don Juan series of books written by Carlos Castaneda, and was attempting to perform one of the energetic meditations suggested for tapping into an area’s power when I first began to hear those weird calls. I had just been trying to “expose myself to power” when the first call rang out. I immediately froze up, sat completely still, closed my eyes, and just listened to the noises. Unfortunately I did that for so long that my fire ended up burning itself out! Having used up all my pieces of light kindling, my only options were to freeze my ass off or get in bed, so I chose the latter. I had been enjoying my fire already for 3-4 hours, so it was probably time to get to bed anyway, but it certainly felt like a defeat at the time.

Listening to the calls, which I think could be more accurately described as shrieks, howls, or even screams, I had the feeling of total certainty that they were not being produced by ordinary means (ie. owls), but by some sort of beings of the night- some kind of energetic entities. I figured that the destruction wrought by the Station Fire had probably driven some of the older, bigger, and badder entities out of the deep Angeles, and into the fringes of remaining forest- where I was now lay. I didn’t want anything to do with those potential terrors at that point, so I cut out all light, sound, and movement of my own, sitting totally still and just listening to the weirdness. After an indeterminable period of time I ended up falling into a very deep sleep.

I woke up the next morning around 8:00 AM, feeling excellent, without any of the previous nights soreness in my legs, hips, and back. I was quite confident that I’d be able to handle the hike up and down Mt. Wilson, but I knew I’d need to carbo-load first. I heated up my usual evening meal, the incredible dehydrated Macaroni and Cheese from Backpacker’s Pantry, which I promptly chomped down, then set to work on packing up all of my innesential gear. I knew I would be pushing daylight to just about it’s limits if I spent any significant amount of time at the top of Mt. Wilson, and I didn’t want to have to hike out in the dark (especially since I didn’t have a head lamp), so I packed up everything I didn’t need to take with me to the summit and stored it all neatly in my tent, which due to later time-constraints turned out to be an excellent idea.

It was a quick, but relatively difficult hike up to Wilson’s summit, fraught with the usual perils of numerous avalanche chutes leading to certain death. You see, the local Ranger has reminded me twice now that these are the steepest slopes in the lower 48 states, and there have been numerous body-rescue missions in the area to prove it. I can’t claim that I’ve done much hiking or backpacking outside of the South West, but based on what I have seen, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that these slopes really are the steepest, especially after paying so much attention to them each time I’m out there by myself. It’s never an issue when hiking with friends, but when I’m out there alone there’s a noticeably higher level of excitement due to the many opportunities for getting myself killed. Take a look at the slope in the following picture and you can get some idea of what I’m talking about.

Avalanche Chute - Mt. Wilson, Angeles National Forest

When I did reach the summit, for only my third time ever even though I’ve camped at the mountain’s base so many times now, I was rewarded with a completely unobstructed and nearly 360-degree view, allowing me to document the full damage done by the Station Fire, and giving you the opportunity to take a peak at the area without even having to leave the comfort of your own home. The following shot is my favorite of the series, with Mt. Baldy’s snow-capped peak in the top-right, the foreground showing the healthy Angeles, and the mountains to the left exhibiting the extent of the area’s devastation. For the other pics from this series, please see the following post: Aftermath of the Station Fire – Angeles National Forest.

Angeles National Forest - Station Fire Aftermath

I lingered at the fantastic Echo Rock viewpoint for about two hours, hoping that the cloud bank to the South would clear up, giving me the opportunity to capture those mountains under even lighting conditions, but alas, it never happened. Accordingly, these shots are nowhere near as nice as I was hoping they’d turn out, but I figure I’ll be making a return trip to the area relatively soon, so all is not lost. I was also quite pleased to find myself in good enough shape to bring the majority of my backpack’s weight, including both the camera and tripod (each of which are my heaviest piece of backpacking equipment on their own) the entire 2,500 feet up, without any serious problems. And just as I was packing up to make my way back down the mountain, I heard the sound of approaching humans, at which time I realized that I’d had the mountain to myself for the entire time that I was up there- just the way I like it.

Near Mt. Wilson Summit - Looking South East

The hike back down was far easier, and much faster than my way up, taking less than half the time and failing to produce any noticeable sweating or fatigue. I even had enough energy to stop short at the Half-Way sign and set up my camera to capture my only self-portrait of the trip, which I think turned out relatively well.

Self Portrait - Half Way Back Down Mt. Wilson

I arrived back at camp around 3pm and was pretty happy that I’d had the foresight to pack things up before heading for the peak, as I was now officially feeling tired and lazy. Light was already beginning to become an issue so I quickly broke down my tent, cleaned up the campsite according to my leave no trace style of backpacking, and got ready to take off. The day had been a good one, and I was only disappointed that I wouldn’t have time to stop by Sturtevant’s Camp for another conversation with the local Ranger, especially since I’d wanted to show him my photos from the peak. I’ll be keeping them on my memory card so he can get a look at them the next time I’m out there.

I made it back to my car relatively quickly, getting there just as the deep Twilight had begun to set in, which was quite a relief considering that things would have been somewhat complicated without a headlamp to rely on. I was then treated with my first twilight drive down the mountain and back into civilization, enjoying the view of the emergence of the evening’s first stars. It had been a great trip and even now I can’t wait for my next adventure. I’m full of ideas for how I want to shoot the canyon on my next trip out there and I’ll be sure to bring my new headlamp along so I can take my sweet time.

Angeles Fire Damage - Station Fire Aftermath

Station Fire Damage - Angeles National Forest

Station Fire Aftermath - Angeles National Forest

Angeles Fire Aftermath - Station Fire Damage

Angeles National Forest - Station Fire Aftermath

All shots were taken with Pentax K10D and DA* 16-50mm lens, by Tim Lavelle.

I figure these speak for themselves, but everything should look like the green forest in the foreground. I’ve honestly never seen anything like this, and the closest I could compare the area to looking would be that of post-nuclear Hiroshima or Nagasaki. There is nothing left out there. Miles and miles of forest burned to a crisp, leaving nothing but dirt and ash in it’s wake. This terrible tragedy could have been averted, had we allowed smaller forest fires to burn through the area in the past few decades, clearing up old debris and leaving room for new growth. Devastating forest fires such as this will continue as long as we keep interfering with Nature’s way.

These were shot on December 20th, 2009 from “Echo Rock” on top of Mt. Wilson. You are looking North / North-East. That’s Mt. Baldy in the right side of the frame of shot #5. It’s snow cap was deposited by a storm two weeks ago, but it’s melting quickly, and will most likely be gone in early January unless another storm rolls through. Fortunately, the San Gabriel River needed water badly, and this run-off has provided just that. Other than the area completely destroyed by the Station Fire, the rest of Angeles is alive and strong. And besides- that forest will return- eventually. It’s just that none of us will still be around to see it.

Nature works on a much longer scale than we do!

Devore Campground's Surroundings

The photo above is a view of the Angeles National Forest surrounding Devore Campground, showing the damage from the Station Fire. It was shot from the top of Mt. Wilson, on a later trip than the one described below.

Two weeks before this trip, the Angeles National Forest was finally reopened. I attempted to hike into Devore Campground, but was told that the area was closed by a Forest Service Employee who found me at Newcomb Pass. Devore campground will likely be closed for quite a while as the surrounding area was completely destroyed by the fire. Here are further photos of the damage: Angeles National Forest Fire damage.

October, 2009

I arrived at the Chantry Flats parking area around 7:15 on Saturday morning and it was already starting to get crowded. Strapping on my pack, I began the descent down the large paved access road leading down into Santa Anita Canyon. This is a great area for hiking and backpacking, easily accessed by the Gabrileno Trail, which traces the course of the San Gabriel River.

When I arrived at the trailhead, I was surprised to find no Ranger posted. I had wanted to ask about the conditions in the area, as my internet searches had failed to uncover specific details about damage, closures, and safety conditions. Looking back, I should have called ahead to ask about conditions on the ground, rather than expecting figure it all out on the fly.

The first sign of trouble came  in the form of a weekend-warrior type heading back up from his morning hike. He stopped to ask where I was headed (Hikers often seem quite curious of Backpackers). After I told him Devore, he informed me that everything to the North had been completely destroyed, using the word “obliterated” to describe the damage.

I was dismayed, but still intent on seeing things with my own eyes. I continued hiking North along the Gabrilena, winding my way along the North Fork past Sturtevant Falls, Spruce Grove Campground, stopping for a few minutes to rest and refill my camel pak at Sturtevant’s Camp. About half a mile short of Newcomb, I ran into a backpacker coming the opposite direction.

He stopped when he reached me to say hello, folded his trekking poles under his arms, and wiped beads of perspiration from his sunglasses.

“How’s it look up there?” I inquired.

“Not too good” he retorted with a grimace. “It’s all grey, and it makes me sad.”

Our short discussion revealed that everything to the North and West of Newcomb had been completely incinerated.

His plan had been the same as mine, but executed 24 hours in earlier.

“How bad is the campground itself?” I asked cautiously.

“I didn’t make it that far.” He had stopped at the fire line, setting up dry-camp at Newcomb and settling in the for the night. I wasn’t ready to accept defeat that easily.

“Do you think I could still stay at Devore?”

“I don’t see why not. There’s nobody out there to stop you.”

We wished each other luck and went our separate ways. I was dismayed by the news, but still figured that I could make it to the campground and get some great pictures of the surrounds. I’ve never seen the aftermath of a gigantic forest fire first hand, and figured it could create some interesting shots.

Arriving at Newcomb Pass around 10:15, I dumped my gear on the picnic table and did some scouting around. One of the first things I noticed was that Newcomb’s sign posts had all been ripped out of the ground and laid down on their sides. A fire road had also been plowed right up the side of the hill, where large trees and dense forest had previously stood.

Newcomb Pass - The New Fire Road

I climbed the very steep first few meters, onto what looked like a clearing that I hoped would provide a sweeping view of the valley to the North, providing a good view of the area. I never found that great a vantage point, but the little that I could see didn’t look very promising.

South of Newcomb remains a rich forest, a veritable sea of green, with lush hillsides and a dense canopy, like that of the foreground in this post’s first image. But to the North and West, there’s virtually nothing left but ash. Skeletons of wood where the trees formerly stood, blowing dust, and barren hillsides. It’s a wasteland now, and all because of our overly excessive fire management policies.

Before the Station Fire, Angeles National Forest had not been allowed to burn for nearly 50 years- promoting excessively overgrown underbrush, and a great deal of fuel. Our misguided insistence on stopping all fires in the area promoted this problem, turning the forest into a ticking time bomb.

The photo below shows the results of this carelessness. The lesson of this tragedy is not that forest fires are the enemy, but that the problem lies in man’s intervention in the natural cycle- even when made on behalf of “preserving” the environment itself. The more we attempt to protect it, the more damage we seem to do.

Looking North from Newcomb Pass

Though the scene was disheartening, I still thought I could camp Devore since I had seen a line of trees in the valley, following what I was certain to be the path of the West Fork River. The campground sits immediately on it’s banks, so I figured it may have survived the destruction. I hiked back to the picnic tables where I had left my gear, ate a lunch of rolls, smoked gouda, mozarella string cheese, and grapes, and weighed my options.

“It’s probably worth the risk of exploring”, I thought to myself, “especially considering it’s only 10:30 and I’m just 1.6 miles away. It really could still be there, but even if it isn’t, I’ve still got plenty of time to return, so I might as well find out.”

But it wasn’t meant to be. When I approached the trail-head I found it barricaded by tree branches and blocked off with a gigantic mound of dirt. The sign noting the mileage to Devore was replaced with one reading “NO —–ING”. I couldn’t figure out what it said, but it was pretty clearly an indication of a no-go.

I resigned myself to emulate the backpacker I’d met along the trail and set up dry-camp at Newcomb. I wasn’t happy about having to abandon Devore, but was definitely looking forward to a great view of the night sky from the newly cleared fire access road.

Dry Camp at Newcomb Pass

I laid down on my sleeping bag for an afternoon meditation. I was perfectly happy with staying at Newcomb, and while the devastation to the North was certainly upsetting, I kept in mind that it was simply nature’s way of clearing out the old garbage and making room for the next generation.

I tried to do the same with my own mind, releasing attachment to thoughts and instead simply listening to the world around me. I must have fallen asleep at some point, and was woken up by a stranger’s voice.

“You can’t camp here! You’re not even supposed to be here!”

It was one of the local Forest Service guys, and apparently, he wasn’t too happy about my presence in the area.

“Where were you planning on going?”

“Devore…”

“That area’s shut! It might not look like it, but the fire came through here. It’s still far too dangerous. You can’t stay here.”

“I didn’t see any signs…”

He cut me off. “They’re patrolling the roads, arresting trespassers, and giving out citations to anyone in the area. The hillsides are crumbling, we’ve got rockslides and tree limbs falling all over the place, and there is heavy bear activity right now. You need to leave now!”

He advised me to return to Spruce Grove and I agreed that I would. I turned away to start gathering up some of the things in my tent, then began to ask another question before realizing that he had already disappeared.

On the way back to Spruce I took a break and sat on a rock overlooking the valley toward the East. I felt quite peaceful, and the forest around me was extraordinarily silent. The fire seems to have affected the spirit of this place. It’s as if the entire Angeles is still cringing in pain.

Much to my chagrin, I found another group of campers staying at Spruce’s upper sites (my favorite spots), so I contonued down to the southern section where I’d never stayed before. It’s not as nice as the upper sites, sitting much closer to the trail and on uneven ground. I won’t be using those sites again if it can be avoided.

After assembling camp for the second time that afternoon, I ate another roll, a handful of grapes, some cheese, and two packets of ramen. It may seem like a feast, but I was still starving at the end of it since I’d burned up so many calories by that point in the day. I laid down in the tent and turned to my iPod for some relaxation, drowning out the people around me who weren’t as excited about listening to the sounds around us.

Getting up early the next morning, I had a quick breakfast of Blueberry Oatmeal and then hiked out. I had failed in my objective to reach Devore, but still enjoyed myself in the process.

I would have liked to explore Devore in greater depth (I’ve only stayed there once) as it seemed like a much older, more mysterious, and more interesting part of the forest than where I usually camp. I still want to return, but realize that it may never be a possibility at this point.

This trip taught me an important lesson, which is to make every second count. I shouldn’t have waited so long to return to Devore, and I haven’t done the same with other destinations- as my many recent Trip Reports can attest.

Summary Stats:

Time: About 30 hours

Mileage: 14.8

Photos: Very few

Concluding Thoughts:

Hiking into an area that was just burned by one of the worst forest fires in Southern California history is apparently not entirely safe, even for an Eagle Scout who does things like this all the time.