Chayacitra

Yours Truly At The Top of Vasquez Rocks

Vasquez Rocks Park is just a quick drive up the 14 from Los Angeles, and certainly worth the trip. I had never even heard of it until my buddy Chaz found it on Google Maps when looking for return directions from our recent camping trip to Saddleback Butte State Park. On the way home from that trip, we pulled off Highway 14 in Agua Dulce and did a bit of exploring in the area.

Vasquez Rocks County Park - Reaching Into the Deep Blue

Vasquez Rocks Natural Area Park General Information:

There is no fee to park or explore the area (which is incredible, considering that this is the first place I’ve been in the past two years that didn’t charge for entrance), and there’s certainly plenty of parking. A short drive on a well-maintained dirt road gets you to the parking area, which is equipped with a couple of chemical toilets.

Sean Resting Near the Peak

Incredibly, residential homes overlook the area, which sits in a bit of a canyon, or bowl, edged by the mountains between the Antelope Valley and the Santa Clarita Valley. You can see the rocks themselves (far and away the main attraction here) from the freeway, but they’re far more impressive up close.

The Other Side (sans Sean)

The Vasquez Rocks have appeared in a variety of movies and tv shows, including the Outer Limits, Star Trek (the old tv series and the latest cinematic remake), and an episode of Bonanza. They probably look familiar to you, though you might not be able to place where you’ve seen them before. At least that’s how it was for me.

Overlooking the Parking Lot & the 14 Freeway

This area is named after one of California’s most famous bandits, Tiburcio Vasquez, way back in 1873 and 1874, who used the place as a hide-out while trying to avoid getting captured. He’s got a great story, so check him out over at Wikipedia. The Rock formations were created by the San Andreas Fault.

Closer View Across the Canyon - Watching the Crows Soar

Sunday, May 16, 2010

On the way home from our incredible camping trip to Saddleback Butte State Park, we decided to make a stop to check out the scenery on offer at Vasquez Rocks Park. I pulled off the 14, not really knowing what to expect, but was immediately overjoyed once  had parked my car.

Search & Rescue Ropes Training

It was relatively busy, with a search and rescue training class working on ropes technique on the hills across the way, a college geology class on a field trip, and a handful of families hiking around the park. I was pretty happy with my new $6.95 straw hat. This thing is light, breathable, and provides enough shade to protect my arms (and camera) from direct sunlight. Watch for it in future photos!

Chaz Relaxing on the Opposing Ridgeline

Once the loud guy removed himself from the very top of the spire formation of rocks, I made my way up it’s face and sat on top, watching the crows gliding around down below. A pair of them were swooping around on the areas thermal updrafts, flying effortlessly, but noisily too.

Sean Heads Back Down Toward the Parking Lot

I found the area beautiful, but far too busy, and was astonished that houses had been built so close to the rocks. If they had left the entire area undeveloped, it could have had a much more powerful impact on its visitors. As it is, the view from the top is stunning, but loses out on its ability to really move you.

My Parting Shot - Beautiful Open Space, Right Here in SoCal!

We were exhausted, and scorched from our weekend in the desert, so we didn’t linger too long at Vasquez, but I’d love to return in the Spring for some hiking on a cooler day. It was well worth the visit, and I think these photos prove that this place is worth preserving.

Big Pine Creek - The North Fork

Big Pine Creek Campground may be far away from those of you in Southern California, but it’s well worth the extra mileage. At around 4-5 hours from Los Angeles (depending on how fast you drive), Big Pine offers some spectacular scenery, the likes of which are rivaled perhaps only by much further destinations like Yosemite National Park, Kings Canyon National Park, or Sequoia National Park. The scenery here certainly rivals those three bastions of beauty, leaving just about nothing to be desired. Oh- and did I mention that there’s a glacier?

The First Waterfall - Big Pine Creek's North Fork Trail

Directions to Big Pine Creek Campground from Orange County, CA:

Your five hour journey starts on the 55 North, which you’ll need to take to the 91 East. Try to travel in the middle of the night to avoid the typical 91 parking lot (or if you’re lucky like me, borrow your family’s Fast Track transponder and take the 133 N to the 241). Take the 91 E for 16.5 miles until exit 51 for the 15 North. Follow it for 43.3 miles and merge onto the US 395 North toward Bishop/Adelanto.

Big Pine Creek - Scenery Along the South Fork Trail

Strap in and put on some good music, because you’ll be riding the very slow 395 (criss-crossed with stop-lights for first 15 miles or so) for 107 long miles. Thankfully, once you get out into the middle of nowhere, you can really start to haul ass. I did 100+ mph for the longest sustained period of time in my life on this drive, though I was driving on an empty Highway in the middle of the night.

Big Pine Creek - Overlooking the Campground

The 395 takes you directly through the tiny town of Big Pine, past Mom & Pop stores, local fishing spots, and an inviting saloon, until turning left at West Crocker Street. It’s tough to read the sign, so pay close attention. If the speed limit starts to go back up to 35, you’ll know you’ve gone too far. West Crocker winds through some country-houses before turning into Glacier Lodge Road, which you’ll follow 9.9 miles all the way up into the mountains. Big Pine Creek Campground is at the end of the road, just before the trailhead for the North and South Big Pine Creek Trails.

Keeping My Feet Cool with Glaciel Meltwater

Big Pine Creek Campground Details:

The campground sits at an elevation of 7,700 feet and is surrounded by beautiful Sagebrush and Jeffrey Pines. Big Pine Creek winds its way right by some of the campsites, and there’s a beautiful pond stocked with fish near the general store. There are 30 total campsites here, each equipped with tent platforms, two parking spots, a picnic table, bear storage lockers, and a fire ring, but only one spot has it’s own gigantic brick and granite fireplace – Site #9.You’ll find National Forest standard chemical toilets, but the host keeps things immaculately clean. I didn’t see any showers.

Rugged Scenery Along the North Fork Trail

It costs $20.00 per night to bring 2 tents, 6 people, and 2 cars, with a $7.00 extra cost per night for additional vehicles. I would certainly suggest making reservations ahead of time, both because of the long drive, and high demand, and because some campsites don’t offer a whole lot of shade. This is a quiet campground, inhabited mostly by families, fishermen, and explorers using the spot as base camp for further adventures along the nearby North Fork and South Fork Big Pine Creek Trails.

Looking Toward Second Falls - Near the 1.5 Mile Mark

Friday, June 4th, 2010

I left Southern CA around 8pm, intent on arriving at the Big Pine Creek Campground for a weekend of hiking and dominoes with my buddy Chaz. Everyone else had other plans, though I’m sure they’ll be regretting their decision to skip this trip once they get the chance to check out our photos, as I can honestly say that this is one of the prettiest places I’ve ever been.

The Inyo National Forest Ranger Cabin

The drive up was a bit of a nightmare, taxing me both mentally and physically, especially during the slow first few miles along the 395 North, which is criss-crossed with stop-light after stop-light and slow driving locals. I grabbed a load of firewood from a gas station in Pearsonville and ended up standing in line for 20 minutes waiting for some drifters to finish their business. I never would have guessed that it could take so long to purchase a bottle of 99 Bananas and some cheap little California-themed statuettes.

A Slow Spot Along The North Fork of Big Pine Creek

It was well into the night, something like 1:30, by the time I arrived at the campground. I was surprised to find multiple people still awake at their sites, standing around their campfires, and hadn’t expected Chaz to still be awake either. I set up my tent and unpacked some of my gear while Chaz stoked the fire in our huge brick-lined chimney, then soon retired for a short, but restful night of sleep in my new tent (the Big Agnes Fly Creek UL 2).

First ... Pond? Gorgeous Scenery Just Before First Lake

We’d gotten lucky (there goes the sarcasm alarm) and booked our trip for the same weekend that Big Pine experienced some of the highest temperatures in recent history, in the high 90′s and low 100′s down at the valley floor, lingering in the low 80′s even up around 8000 feet. The good news is that after a heavy snow year, there was still a ton of the white stuff carpeting the high peaks, and even along the Big Pine Creek trails, providing some incredible scenery.

Overlooking First Lake - Debut of the Red Shirt & Straw Hat Series

Saturday morning we started off along the North Fork of Big Pine Creek toward the set of seven lakes in the 10,000 – 11,000 foot elevation range. We figured it’d be an easy hike, considering the aptly, but boringly naked “First Lake” sat at just 4 miles and a few thousand feet of elevation gain from the trailhead. But the temperatures, and general ruggedness of the country caused the trip to take considerably longer than we had planned.

First Lake on Big Pine Creek's North Fork Trail

I was quite pleased to find that the North Fork Trail winds its way up through the mountains right alongside the “Creek” (where I’m from we’d call it a “River”), which allowed me to keep my feet cool the entire way. My boots are about a size too small and I recently realized that the 3-4 mile mark is when their swelling turns things into a total drag, so I stopped to stand in the creek every twenty minutes or so, allowing the frigid glacial-melt water to essentially ice my tired stubs. I had no trouble at all keeping comfortable thanks to this technique, but my feet sure were pruny by the time we de-booted at Second Lake.

Another Shot of Me at First Lake

It was just before 2 when we made our way through a patch of snow a couple feet deep and caught our first glimpse of the turquoise waters of First Lake. Chaz made his way down to the shore while I headed higher for some birds-eye-style views. I made good use of the tripod that I’d been lugging along on my camelbak, taking a couple self-portraits of myself, and my new favorite piece of gear- the $6 straw hat. This thing keeps the sun off my head and neck, and more than 50% of the time even protects my hands and arms! I’m shocked they’re so cheap, because in terms of utility, it’s already returned my original investment in spades.

Second Lake - From the North Fork Trail at Big Pine Creek

Just half a mile further North we found Second Lake even more captivating than First, mostly due to the fact that it was nearly completely frozen over! I’ve never seen a lake covered by so much ice, and I could hardly believe the scenery in front of me considering it’s June (and 80+ degrees!).

Another Shot of Second Lake

It took me a few tries to get the shots that I wanted since even my 16mm lens wasn’t quite wide enough to capture the entire view. At one point two old guys came by heading South along the trail and one hilariously teased that he didn’t think that the shot I was setting up would come out very good (he was wrong!). I sat down on top the highest pile of rocks I could find, chomped down some grapes and bread, then fell deeply asleep.

An Interesting Cloud Hovers in Deep Blue Alpine Skies

I woke up nearly 2 hours later and found that Chaz seemed to be already on his way back down the mountain. I quickly geared up and joined him on the trail. I snapped some parting shots of Second Lake, knowing I’d be back at some point this Summer (once the snow melts and the trail isn’t such a slog), but still regretting that we hadn’t made it to Third Lake. I would have loved to see the view from up above it, especially with all the snow on the mountainsides, but alas, it just wasn’t meant to be!

Chaz Hiking on the North Fork Trail at Big Pine Creek

Our hike back to camp took far less time than the way up into the mountains, thanks to it being entirely downhill. My feet were exhausted by the time we reached the campground, and I couldn’t wait to strap on my sandals and get them some rest. We ate a bit, then headed over to the campgrounds general store, hoping to borrow a wine bottle opener since I’d forgotten mine. Along the way we ran into a friendly fisherman who let me borrow his Swiss Army Knife (complete with corkscrew!), and told us to “Get back to work!” as soon as I’d gotten into it.

My Solo Hike Along the South Fork - Looking Back Over the Valley

Perhaps an hour or two later, after pounding 3/4 of the bottle, I had run completely out of energy and told Chaz that I’d have to retire for the evening. I must have drank a gallon of water before turning in, hoping to resist any potential dehydration, and as a result I spent much of the night stumbling around in the dark. I slept like a baby though, and was up at dawn to cook my usual omelette (four eggs, bell peppers, cheese, and tomato). I added a kiwi, a handful of blueberries, and some blackberries for good measure.

Snow Obscures the Switchbacks on the South Fork Trail

Chaz soon got up and let me know that his knees were too busted up for another adventure, but said that I was more than welcome to set out on my own. I put together my stuff, choosing to use my old Granite Gear Backpack instead of the Camelbak (which had made my armpits sore the day before), and my brand new boots – Lowa Renegade II GTX Mid-Tops. I was slightly concerned that the boots would thrash up my feet, considering I’d never worn them before, but they seemed comfortable enough that I felt like it’d be worth the test. I tossed my running shoes in the pack just in case it turned disastrous.

Our Campsite at Big Pine Creek Campground

I hadn’t made up my mind about which trail to take, the North Fork back up to the lakes, or the South Fork out to Willow and Brainard Lakes, so I stopped in the store and asked the lady for advice. She said that the South Fork Trail was still completely snowed over, but encouraged me to “Go as far as you can”.

Long Shadows on the Road to Big Pine Creek Campground

Along the way out there, I ran into a group of four backpackers at First Falls (a big waterfall near the trailhead) who reported that they’d come all the way from Mount Sil – way up past Seventh Lake – which made me feel like a chump for only having made it to Second Lake the day before.

Drinking and Dominoes

About half way to the switchbacks up the steep face along the South Fork Trail I met a couple who looked dismayed and let me know that it was completely snowed over. They said it wasn’t even possible to find the beginning of the trail, but as they turned to walk away the guy told me it “Might be an adventure…” trying to make it to the top. I immediately decided to go as far as I could.

Our Tent Platform & View From Big Pine Creek Campground

I stopped to do carry-out blister preventing measures on my left ankle just at the bottom of the switchbacks, then heard some rockfall sounds coming from high up the hillside. I looked up to find two backpackers making their way down from the top of the saddle. When they got to me I assaulted them with questions about trail conditions, finding out that it was essentially a “wet, slushy mess”, and receiving very little in the way of positive assurances that it would be worth the effort required to reach Willow Lake. They said the snow was soft enough that I could kick in foot holds, but that I’d better be super careful on my way down since I didn’t have any poles. And boy were they right!

A View From The Pond at Big Pine Creek Campground

I got about half way up the hillside – moving quite slowly – kicking in foot placements with each and every step, being careful not to lose my footing and go sliding back down the mountain. It was tough, tedious, and exhausting work just getting to the half-way point, where I decided to give up the attempt once I realized just how dangerous the way back down would be. I was on a precipitous slope, in a blazing sun, hiking essentially in slush, without any poles or even gloves for my hands- and I was entirely by myself.

Wild Lupine Overlooking Big Pine Creek

I sat on a rock to eat lunch, snapped some more self-portraits, and just generally enjoyed the view of the valley and the sounds of the waterfalls now tricking down the hillside all around me while pondering a return trip to the area. I had really wanted to see Willow Lake (even though the storekeeper told me it was a mosquito infested mess), and especially Brainard (which she said was beautiful), and I absolutely hate giving up on a mission like this, but after setting off an old High School football injury by banging my left elbow on my camera, then losing my remote control, I decided to cut my losses while I was still ahead.

Chaz & I Stopped to Shoot the Flowers

I took a final look at the view beneath me, then started what I figured would be a slow descent back down the mountain. Within 20 feet I found myself slipping, landing on my butt and sliding full speed down the slope. I put my hands out to my sides and buried them inches into the slushy snow, hoping to slow my fall, but it didn’t seem to help and I continued to slide around 50 more feet, just about completely out of control.

Beatiful Fields of Lupine at Big Pine Creek

Finally, I managed to roll over onto my right side and get my arm buried a couple feet into the snow, creating enough drag to slow me down to stop. My fingers had already nearly frozen solid and as I pulled them back into the sunlight they burned with the massive temperature fluctuation. I did my best to avoid the patches of snow the rest of the way down, refusing to follow the foot steps of the backpackers and instead taking my own off-road route through hard scrabble loose talus, which wasn’t a whole lot of fun either!

Incredible Wild Indian Paintbrush at Big Pine Creek

Arriving back at camp, Chaz was shocked to see me so early. We ended up spending much of the rest of the afternoon reading, when I realized that I’d better head down the mountain and into town to get some headache medicine and additional supplies. I also needed to send an email to coworkers so they didn’t wonder where I was when I didn’t show up the next morning (Monday), as I’d only told a few of the people from my company about my plan to take the day off.

A Field of Lupine & Indian Paintbrush

We stopped along the way and shot some photos of the biggest field of Lupine that I’ve ever seen, catching a few glimpses too of Indian Paintbrush, then hit up the local gas station and snagged some of the best beer I’ve ever had in my entire life. I don’t know what it is about Northern CA, but they seem to just about everything better than us, and apparently beer is no exception to that rule! The Mammoth Brewing Company’s Floating Rock Hefeweizen is perhaps the best Hef I’ve ever had, and I’m hoping I’ll be able to find a local source for it down here. If you happen across it, don’t hesitate to snatch it up, but just remember to turn it upside down and read all the directions before consuming (as the friendly, sunburned, and barefoot fisherman inside the Gas Station Store instructed me to do).

My Last View of the Mountains Overlooking Big Pine Creek

We played dominoes and enjoyed the glow of the campfire well into the night, far later than I had thought I’d be able to stay up, before finally getting to sleep around 12 am. I again slept like a baby, and managed to get up just after dawn on Monday morning. Chaz was ready to head home, but I had other plans in mind, having noticed that the famous Mono Lake (of Pink Floyd fame) was just an hour and forty-five minutes North along the 395. But I’ll leave that story for my next post.

The Lookout Point - Ko Phi Phi Don Island, Thailand

Shot in February 2007.

Pentax K10D with DA 18-55mm

Mount Mugu Summit Meditation

Point Mugu State Park Directions:

Head 21 miles north from Malibu along the Pacific Coast Highway (Highway1), or South 15 miles from Oxnard along the same. The official address of the Point Mugu State Park is 9000 West Pacific Coast Highway, but you’ll see the signs along the road once you make it to the campground.

Point Mugu Campground Details:

There are three different campgrounds in Point Mugu State Park, two for car-camping and one for backpacking. Car campers should try to make reservations for Thornhill Broome Beach or the Sycamore Canyon Campground. These fill up just about every weekend (even in Winter), so be sure to use Reserver America or call the Rangers well in advance of your trip.

Point Mugu State Park Trail Map

Thornhill Broome Campground offers 69 sites, all directly on the beach, each with its own picnic table and fire ring. There’s no shade whatsoever here and the sites are fully exposed to frequent wind-storms, so make sure to bring a tent and protection or you’ll be in for a windy time. There are no flush toilets and only a couple outdoor, cold-water showers. RVs are allowed, but no hookups are provided.

Sycamore Canyon Campground is more developed, with hot showers and flush toilets. It’s on the Eastern side of PCH, but offers quick access to the beach and plenty of shade at each of its 58 sites. Each campsite offers a fire ring and picnic table, and some of them are relatively private.

The La Jolla Canyon Campsites must be hiked into at about a mile from PCH.The Rangers are only aware of the couple group sites available, and have no idea that there are also 9 individual spots. You may have to argue to get a permit for the smaller campsites, but its worth it since they’re very private, and well worth the short hike. There’s plenty of shade and a couple of porta-potties here, but no running water. You’ll need to carry in all of your supplies.

With that said, here are the details of my recent trip in April, 2010.

With all of the recent rainfall and the official beginning of wildflower season two weeks ago, I figured this weekend would be the perfect time to return to Point Mugu. I’d been there two or three times before, but it had always been dusty, dry, and brown. It seemed ripe as a Spring destination though, and my instincts were correct. This place is breathtaking right now!

Hiking Into Point Mugu State Park via Mugu Peak Trail

Camping overnight at the walk-in campground sites in La Jolla Canyon requires first registering with the ranger station at Thornhill Broome Beach. It’s an easy spot to find, just across the Pacific Coast Highway from Sycamore Canyon, but the Rangers don’t seem to know a whole lot about the area they manage.

Blue Skies & Beautiful Scenery

In fact, when I arrived on Saturday afternoon (having not called ahead, of course) I was informed that they were full up. I was essentially shit out of luck, and I wasn’t too happy about it since I’d just driven through LA Marathon traffic for two and a half hours. Making matters worse, the Ranger said told me that all four of his camp sites were already reserved, with five groups amongst them.

Early Blooming Wild Flowers

This wouldn’t have been so aggravating, had I not known that there were at least double that many sites in La Jolla Canyon. I guess that no one from the National Parks Service has been in there lately, just like none of the Rangers at Joshua Tree had ever seen Munsen Canyon. Seriously NPS; get it together already. Stop claiming that my destinations are “inaccessible”, “too dangerous” (Devore Campground), or “non-existent”. I’ve accessed them, they’re not dangerous, and there are NINE additional campsites in La Jolla Canyon. I’ve even got the pictures to prove it.

"Dr. Seuss" Canyon - Point Mugu State Park

Once a line of cars had built up behind me during our discussion, the Ranger asked me to pull off to the side and said he’d call his supervisor to double check my assertion. I did as he asked and waited patiently for about 10 minutes, stretching the stiffness out of my legs and watching the waves crash along the beach shore. It was a beautiful day, but seemed spoiled by the prospect of having to drive all the back home to Irvine. I did not want to lose this fight.

Pond in La Jolla Canyon - Point Mugu State Park

Fortunately, my persistence paid off. After a few more minutes I walked up to the Ranger’s booth and asked if he’d had time to contact his supervisor. “Let’s get her right now,” he said, picking up the phone. After salutations he dove right into it:

“I’ve already got five groups in four sites, but this guy here says there are more spots. Earlier they told me not to let anyone else in, but… what? Yeah? Ok, thanks.”

He turned back toward me and quietly remarked “She said to let you in.” I paid my $7 for the camp-site reservation and parking (a great deal since it’s $8 just for day-use permits in Point Mugu State Park) and was on my way back across the highway. I triumphantly texted Sean to let him know that my earlier message about not being able to get a spot had now been rendered invalid.

Wild Datura Growing in La Jolla Canyon

Following final preparations, I started the familiar hike through rolling hills and coastal scrub, though I was shocked by the area’s drastic change in appearance- Everything was green!

La Jolla Canyon Greenery - Point Mugu State Park

Flowers were blooming on the hillsides, grasses has grown in every bare patch of soil, and Spring appeared to be in full bloom. It’s incredible how massive a transformation this place undergoes. From a dust-bowl in Summer, to a gorgeous blanket of grass in the Spring, Point Mugu is like the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of the California State Park system. I’m certainly going to be avoiding it in the Summer, Fall and Winter from now on.

Purple Flowers in the Meadow

Maybe 15 minutes into the hike I came around a bend in the trail approaching the rocky canyon and staircase-like ascent into the Park’s higher elevation area when I stumbled across a large group of people sitting under a gigantic oak tree. Ten to fifteen twenty-somethings were all crowded around a couple grungy looking dudes holding musical instruments, and for a second, I thought I’d walked up on a band of gypsies (some of them looked pretty dirty- not that I care).

La Jolla Canyon Self Portrait - Point Mugu State Park

The sound of this wilderness band (guitar, harmonica, and some kind of drum set) followed me the rest of the way through the canyon, making for an odd but interesting soundtrack. It was certainly a different sort of backpacking experience to be taking in live music while in transit, and I have to say it was quite enjoyable. As far as folksy back-country rockers go, they were pretty damn good too, and now I wish I’d stopped to get their name. Hopefully someone who was there ends up somehow finding this post. One can hope, right?

How Many Miles to PCH?

The rest of the hike to La Jolla Canyon’s campground went pretty quick. All told it’s hardly 2 miles from PCH- just the kind of “piddly shit” backpacking that I’ve come to hate (yet love). It’s not quite enough of a trip to get the real feeling of being out there battling with nature, but just enough distance that I can carry a ton of extra gear (two down jackets, my tripod, extra lenses and filters, etc.). On the way I was treated to hundreds of yards of vegetation tunnels, absolutely breathtaking trees in full bloom, and unfortunately a ton of mosquitoes. I guess they come hand in hand with the beauty, but the bugs sort of ruined it for me.

Beautiful Bridge Along La Jolla Valley Loop Trail

The mosquitoes were swarming around me for most of the last mile or so, giving me flashbacks of last Summer’s maddening infestation during the Rae Lakes trip (Blog post not yet written). Stopping my hike for even the ten seconds required to take a photo meant having to swat one or two of the bastards from my forearms, and I’m against killing of any sort. It’s a rough spot to be put in, as a vegetarian and believer in equanimity, to have to battle off a ton of bugs. I don’t want to kill the stupid things, but it’s nearly unavoidable because of how fragile they are! I couldn’t take more than three frames in a row without getting bit, so I gave up on photographic efforts and pressed on to camp, figuring I’d return to shoot the area early Sunday morning.

Mount Mugu's Summit - Point Mugu State Park

Arriving at the campground I found it quite noisy. The Ranger had been right – and as an Eagle, I should have known better – Boy Scout troops are loud! But even worse, someone had brought in a radio and they were blasting it at full volume, right in the middle of the solo campsites. I got as far from them as I could, heading all the way to campsite number 9 (the last one) before dropping my pack to reassess my options.

Wildflowers Near Mt. Mugu's Summit

My site seemed somewhat small (hardly enough space for two tents), but it was well outfitted with a picnic table and excellently cleared of debris. Whoever carved these spots out of the surrounding trees did a really good job of making sure they’d stay that way. Those same trees also provided me with some lovely shade, and the cleared canopy offered an excellent view of the sky. I figured it’d be best to set up sans-tent so I could look out on the stars at night, like I’d done on the recent trip to Munsen Canyon in Joshua Tree.

Scattered Wildflowers on Mount Mugu

Five minutes later the arrival of more flies than I’ve ever seen before changed my mind, and I decided to try and go for a hike until the bugs went to sleep (which typically happens just after dusk). I snatched my camera and made my way back down the trail, heading North toward the Navy’s Radar Facility that overlooks the entire area.

California Poppies in Point Mugu State Park

It’s an eerie site, the peaceful rolling hills, gorgeous wildflowers, and deep blue sky, juxtaposed with one of the largest radar dishes and military observation facilities in Southern CA. And if I’m not mistaken, Point Mugu’s military base even houses some of our Anti-Ballistic Missile interceptors, which is both pretty cool, and entirely ridiculous (a conversation for another day!).

Tunneling Train Vegetation Near La Jolla Canyon

I hiked back and forth along the trail, looking for the best spots to take a self-portrait, and played around with the long shadows of the late afternoon sun. I planned out my shots for the next morning and afternoon, paying attention to the direction of the sun across the sky and the relief of the terrain. I was pretty stoked for a full day of shooting, especially since I had so many potential subjects and had seen nothing but deep blue skies all day long.

Gorgeous Wildflowers in Point Mugu (Anyone Know What These Are Called?)

By the time I made my way back to camp, the mosquitoes had gotten much worse, so I felt compelled to set up the tent. I hid inside it until just after dark, waiting for them to finally disappear (which they eventually did), then tried something that I’ve never done before. I had the ingenious idea (never doubt an Everyday Inventor!) of sliding my sleeping pad out the tent’s vestibule so I could gain an unobstructed view of the moon and stars, which I later observed for some time while meditating to the sounds of croaking frogs.

My Every Day Invention - Optional Night Sky Views

On Sunday morning I woke up much later than expected, some time around 10, and was greeted by heavily overcast skies. For a bit I thought it might even rain, but it never got too nasty. All that overcast skies do here in Southern CA is ruin photography, which is probably why we pay so much for rent! Unfortunately, all the skies in my Sunday shots are completely blown out, making for some ugly images, which was a bit of a let down. I was really hoping to shoot the entire area so I wouldn’t have to return later (since it’s a pretty long drive for me), but now it looks like that’s inevitable. Next time I’ll bring bug spray =)

More Incredible Wildflowers

In spite of the weather, I had a great day, with an awesome afternoon meditation in a field of tall grasses. I sat and watched the wind play with the reeds while listening to the sounds around me and was just taken away by the area’s beauty. It was almost as if time had stopped. There I was, in the ‘ancestral environment’, making my way through a grassy savannah to parts unknown, and carrying all that I owned on my back. It all seemed so natural. And it’s moments like these that I truly feel alive. It’s moments like these that can’t be had in a cubicle, or trapped within walls or under a ceiling of any sort. If you haven’t been outside lately, make sure to do so soon!

Dr. Seuss Like Scenery in the Canyon

Though I didn’t have a map, I figured I had enough daylight to get myself lost and found again, so I headed North on an unmarked path, hoping it would lead me closer to the radar installation. It did for some time, before veering directly towards the ocean and taking me straight up Mount Mugu. I hadn’t really planned on climbing it, but it was totally worth the extra exertion! This isn’t that tall a “Mountain” (and personally I’d say it’s more like a “hill”), but it sure was steep heading up. By the time I reached the top my calves were burning like they haven’t in years.

Alternate View From Mt. Mugu's Summit

The view from up there was tremendous, and the wildflowers near the summit were just absolutely splendid. This is a spot I’d highly suggest visiting, no matter how long it takes to drive there. The scenery is unmatched; rolling green hillsides, a gigantic meadow in the valley floor, interesting terrain with tons of relief, and the beautiful Pacific Ocean and Channel Islands resting just off the coast. Truly a sight to behold, and one well worth the extra mileage. I sat up top and marveled at the scenery while eating my typical lunch of bread, cheese and grapes. In terms of trail-food, this is the apex of culinary art.

Mushroom Dandelion Plant Portrait (What Are These Called?)

On my way back out of the park I promptly got myself lost and ended up circling around for about two and a half additional miles, but I wasn’t in a rush, so it wasn’t too much of a problem. I’ve been wanting to increase my mileage recently anyway and I got a much better work out because of the added distance, so I might use this same strategy on future trips. Next time I visit Mugu though, I’ll certainly be bringing along map- or taking a picture of the one at the trail-head before departing (that’s a pro-tip for you newbies out there).

More Crazy Foliage in Point Mugu's Canyon

In a nutshell, despite the bugs and foul weather, I had myself a great time at Point Mugu. I’d certainly recommend the place as a day hike. However, due to the bugs, you might want to consider camping or backpacking elsewhere, unless your idea of “getting into nature” involves a lot of sitting in your tent. But if you want to catch Mugu’s beauty, you better get out there soon, because it’s already drying up. In a month or two it’ll probably be back to the dust-bowl I’d always experienced before, so grab your gear and get moving you couch-potato!

The Lost Palms Oasis Trail - Joshua Tree National Park

Backpacking in Joshua Tree National Park has been a personal dream of mine for some time now. Though I’ve camped and hiked there a couple times in the previous year, I had never been able to work out the logistics for a real backpacking trip- mostly because I couldn’t find a specific destination that seemed worthy of the extra effort required for desert backpacking. It’s no easy task to carry all that extra water (at least twice as much as is required elsewhere), and I didn’t feel like taking the plunge wander around in an alien landscape that I could just as easily explore on day hikes from a comfortable campsite. I love backpacking, and especially difficult trips, but I’m not out to get myself killed.

Desert Fan Palms Near The Lost Palms Oasis Trailhead

But the Backpacking Gods had other plans for me, and they led Sean to strike gold a couple weeks back by forcing him upon a day hiking trip report detailing some dude’s adventure to Munsen Oasis- the most secluded and difficult to access of all of Joshua Tree’s Desert Fan Palm Oases. Munsen Oasis  instantly became our personal Shangri-La. The trail would be arduous, the water scarce, and all the boulder fields immense, but we didn’t care. We prepared for an arduous adventure, and we found it in spades.

Ocotillos Along Joshua Tree National Park's Lost Palms Oasis Trail

Joining us on this trip was our good friend Tommy, who made the journey all the way down to Southern California from Sacramento. Whenever we gear up for epic trips, Tommy seems to be the only one brave enough to throw himself into the mix. He was with us on last Summer’s absolutely breathtaking trip through the Rae Lakes Loop in Kings Canyon and Sequoia Natonal Parks, and I was glad that he could join us for this one too. I’m not sure I would advise doing this trip with any less than three people either, as there are simply too many opportunities for serious injuries, and a two man team would mean leaving an injured man behind, by himself, if something truly terrible were to happen. The Desert is no place to tempt Fate.

Interesting Rock Formations on the Lost Palms Oasis Trail

We arrived at Joshua Tree long after nightfall on Friday evening, entering the Park off the 10 East through the secluded and much less trafficked Southern Entrance near Cottonwood Springs Campground. Finding everything completely full, we had to manage by posting up for the couple hours at a group site, camping in a wash recently flooded by the massive storms that rolled through Southern CA last week. I know it’s not technically what you’re supposed to do, but we were in basically an emergency situation. The weather reports were all clear for hundreds of miles, so it didn’t seem like much of a risk. Definitely not very Eagle Scout-like of me, but whatever.

Lost Palms Oasis - Joshua Tree National Park

I set up camp sans-tent for the first time in months and really enjoyed being able to simply open my eyes for panoramic views of the stars.  It was a new moon while we were out there, so new that I never caught a single glimpse of it, and I was certainly watching for it to appear. While there’s still a little bit of light pollution from nearby 29 Palms, Joshua Tree (the city), and perhaps even the distant cities of Palm Springs and Thousand Palms, the sky was dark enough that we had some pretty incredible views of the stars. And since I didn’t spot any Scorpions, Spiders, Snakes, or any other of scary desert denizens, I decided to forego my tent for the rest of the trip. I’m glad I left it behind.

Desert Fan Palms at the Lost Palms Oasis

Waking up at dawn on Saturday morning we drove to the Visitor’s Center to check for last minute information and verify our directions to Munsen Oasis with the Rangers. We made it to the Lost Palms Oasis trailhead relatively early and found ourselves in the middle of a pretty strong wind storm. It was nice and cool at this point, but the weather didn’t hold for long. After registering at the Backcountry Board and completing final preparations in the parking lot, we set off. Though it was still quite breezy, it was also far warmer than we had been expecting. I made the huge mistake of forgetting to bring along a non-cotton tee-shirt, and I paid dearly for it by sweating like a pig. I was locked in a constant struggle to stop my wet shirt from chafing under the strain of my pack’s hip belt. Next time I won’t forget!

Southernmost Pair of Palms at Lost Palms Oasis

The trail started off relatively easy, with gentle slopes and a pretty minor grade, winding through heavily vegetated desert canyons and some truly barren flash flood washes. Just over 3 miles in we reached the ledge the big canyon that’s home to the Lost Palms Oasis. We paused at the overlook to soak in the incredible view. Joshua Tree is my favorite of the National Parks I’ve visited, due to it’s uniqueness and rugged beauty, and while this Southern part of the Park (Colorado Desert) is much different from the more familiar and more distinctive North-West section (Mojave Desert), it certainly rivals it in natural beauty. The Desert Fan Palms are really an incredible sight, especially after walking through miles of relatively barren desert. I’d rate Lost Palms Oasis as a must see destination.

The First Boulder Field Between Lost Palms and Victory Palms Oases

We stopped briefly for lunch under the shade of the last pair of trees at Lost Palms Oasis. I couldn’t believe how much water we’d seen already- small pools, tiny waterfalls, and a gurgling stream made up the majority of the trail through the Oasis itself. I hadn’t expected to encounter anything but stagnant, disgusting, festering cess-pools, and yet, there we were amongst a literal stream right through the heart of the desert. I had left my water filter in the car because of our expectations, but I was already regretting that mistake. From now on, I’m carrying that thing everywhere. It would have saved us quite a bit of trouble (and probably around 10 pounds of weight each).

Gigantic Rocks in the Second Boulder Field

I love the desert for it’s resourcefulness and efficiency- especially for it’s ability to make so much out of so little (water that is). And this canyon’s abundance seemed excessive compared to the much more arid surroundings- it was almost as if the desert was being wasteful here. Temperatures dropped substantially near the water, dipping down into a much more comfortable range and providing a welcome respite to the screaming desert heat. Each of the Oases that we visited during the trip was at least 10 – 15 degree cooler than being in the sun. I can totally understand why people lost in the desert hallucinate these things, because they’re absolute Godsends!

Self-Portrait - Provides Scale for Boulder Size - I'm 10-15 Feet Off the Ground

We had each started the trip with around 10 liters of water (Tommy is smartest and brought the most), planning to use around a gallon a day for our proposed two-night trip. But by the first evening it had become eminently clear that we were going to run out too soon and would have to head back the following day. In most environments, a gallon of water is plenty for even the most strenuous of activities, but the desert is another animal entirely. I should have known better, considering I ran into the same problem last October during my solo foray into Saguaro National Park. Next time I certainly won’t leave my water filter in the car.

Unnamed Cholla Cactus Garden - South of Entrance to Munsen Canyon

Following lunch we began the real daunting part of the trip- passing through the harrowing Boulder Fields between Lost Palms and the much smaller Victory Palms Oasis. This part of the trek is a tough nut to crack, and I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone who’s afraid of heights or doesn’t have at least a little bit of experience in rock climbing. It’s one thing to scale boulders the size of large trucks with a day-pack, and something entirely different to do it while carrying 40-50 pounds. At times I was forced to lower myself (pack weight and all) between gigantic rock cracks using just my arms. My camera spent most of this part of the trip swinging around from my neck like a pendulum. I’ve got to figure out a better system for carrying it at times like these…

First Sight of Summit Spring Oasis - Joshua Tree National Park

Up and over, around the side, and even underneath at a couple points, we slowly made our way through the three sets of truly enormous boulder fields, occasionally meeting with such difficult points that we had to take our packs off completely and pass them to each other just to continue forward progress. It was as physically demanding as anything I’ve ever done with a full pack, but also incredibly fun. Before I knew about leave-no-trace backpacking (many, many years ago), I used to love bushwhacking trails, but creative route-finding through gigantic boulder fields is something even more exciting. I felt quite fulfilled after making my way through the unique set of obstacles this part of the hike presented.

Lush Greenery at Summit Springs Oasis - Joshua Tree National Park

When we did reach Victory Palms, the smallest of the oases we encountered on the entire trip, we stopped to rest and sit amongst its cool shade, giving our bodies the chance to cool down. I took the opportunity to dry out my now-soaking shirt. It seemed odd that any Desert Fan Palms could make it in this location, because I didn’t see or hear any running water. I began a rudimentary exploration of the area around the sole giant’s trunk, trying to determine how it managed to survive there. Climbing up a steep rock face I caught a glimpse around it’s massive fans and noticed that it’s shade created a cave-like area about the size of a small living room between the trunk of the tree and the canyon wall. I descended into it and found signs of human activity.

Summit Springs Oasis - Joshua Tree National Park

What I had first thought might be some sort of voodoo shrine turned out to be a couple fence posts blocking off a deep cave. It was only 2 or 3 feet high, so I got down on my belly to get a better look, realizing that it was far deeper than I had originally guessed. I then heard the sound of dripping water. There was a large pool of it deep in there- probably 10-15 feet away based on the rocks that I threw- being fed by an internal spring within the base of the hillside. A cool air blew from the cave onto my face, cooling my body, and tempting me to crawl inside. Looking around the little cavern created by the fan palm I felt like I was in a scene out of Apocalypse Now. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn that I was deep in the jungles of South East Asia.

Standing Water Near Summit Springs Oasis

After 20 minutes or so we left Victory Palms behind, heading further East and beginning to watch for the “steep dry fall that’s easily mistaken for nothing more than another canyon wall”. Sean pointed it out (correctly), but Tommy and I both thought that we hadn’t gone far enough yet, so we kept walking. Our cursory glance of the Topographic Map (which wasn’t detailed enough to provide us with much certainty about our location) made it seem like we hadn’t arrived at the correct location yet. And our directions, which had been excellent up until this point, failed us miserably. Rather than telling us to look for a random, impossible to identify canyon, they should have guided us to follow the rusty copper piping we’d seen everywhere since Lost Palms Oasis!

Pool of Water Between Summit Springs and Munsen Oases

We continued for about another half mile down the wash, which opened up into a wide canyon basin here, offering a view of distant mountain ranges hundreds of miles to the East. At this point we figured that Sean had been right, and that we were probably already past the turn off up into Munsen Canyon, but we wanted to make absolutely certain before turning around. Stumbling upon the largest Cholla Cactus garden I’ve ever seen – far larger than the famed “Teddy Bear Cholla Garden” in central Joshua Tree- we took a break to reassess our surroundings and try to pinpoint ourselves on the map. A couple minutes later we were relatively certain that we had gone too far.

Solitary Desert Fan Palm Just South of Munsen Oasis - Joshua Tree National Park

We lingered for some time amongst the cacti before deciding to return West. We set up camp along the Northern bank of the dry riverbed, hoping that a flash flood wouldn’t arrive that evening. Tommy and I took a quick scouting trip to the base of the hillside we thought led to Munsen Canyon, where we uncovered all the clues necessary for determining that it was in fact, the correct one. The piping heading out of the main canyon and up that offshoot was our first strong indication, followed by the discovery of a very dry, but very obvious stream bed that we figured had to be Summit Springs. We returned to camp and started to settle in for the night.

First Grove of Desert Fan Palms at Munsen Oasis - Joshua Tree National Park

As the sun dipped beneath the towering canyon walls to the South, we put on our evening clothes and began collecting up deadfall for a fire. It didn’t take long to amass quite a collection that would last us through most of the night. I set up my tarp just a few feet from the fire, then relaxed in my camp chair and enjoyed the stillness of the impending darkness. Lighting the fire was so easy I could hardly believe it. The stuff out here was even drier than what we found in Death Valley. No kindling whatsoever was necessary- a single chemical block managed to light logs the thickness of my forearm in mere seconds.

Munsen Oasis in Joshua Tree National Park - Second Grove of Desert Fan Palms

About an hour after darkness fell I finally noticed the beauty of the night sky, which was just absolutely filled with stars! It was clear enough that we could spot the haze of the Milky Way, a couple different constellations, and what I still think was Venus and Mars. I really enjoyed sleeping without a roof over my head so I could take in the view. On previous trips I’ve always planned to wake up in the middle of the night for stargazing, but the comfort, warmth, and security provided by my tent has kept me from doing so. I will most certainly be traveling without that extra two and a half pounds on future trips, whenever possible.

X Marks the Spot at Munsen Oasis - We Must Have Arrived Right on Time

We got up early the next morning and packed up everything but water and food. Leaving it behind in Sean’s tent, we set off for Munsen Oasis. The trip there was certainly no cake walk, though I think the boulders between Lost Palms and Victory were probably more difficult to navigate. It certainly made things easier that we were able to leave so much weight behind at camp. Had we attempted the climb through the boulder fields with full packs the day before, I’m doubtful we could have even made it through. It took a lot of energy just to reach Summit Springs Oasis, and Munsen was considerably further North.

Canyon Leading to Boulder Fields South of Victory Palms Oasis

The first view of Summit Springs was incredibly rewarding! At this point we knew without any doubt that we were, in fact, in Munsen Canyon, and heading the right direction. This area hosted some of the largest pools of water I had yet seen on the trip, and I would have wanted to stay a bit longer if I thought we had time for it. There were some bees in the area though (as our directions had warned), and Sean doesn’t know if he’s allergic or not (somehow he’s never been stung…) so we set off after only a momentary stop. I shot some great pictures in this area though, and I’m really glad that I took a couple extra seconds to get them right!

Looking South Over Victory Palms Oasis From the Third Boulder Field

After some more difficult bouldering I finally caught sight of another set of Fan Palms that turned out to be Munsen Oasis itself. This spot is every bit as beautiful as it is difficult to reach. Secluded, serene, and absolutely splendid. An oasis in the very heart of an unforgiving desert, it is a true gem to behold. There’s nothing quite like the rush that comes after wandering through the desert for hours and climbing your way through gigantic boulder fields before finally finding a welcoming grove of Desert Fan Palms. Sitting in their shade, listening to the sounds of the trickling stream, it was hard to believe that we were in the middle of such a hostile environment. It was quite the trip, and entirely worth the extra effort.

Hexagonal Salt Formations at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

These pictures of Badwater Basin were taken during a Photography tour through Death Valley National Park on Thanksgiving Weekend in November of 2009. Out of all of Death Valley’s incredible tourist sights that I visited, including Zabriskie Point, Dante’s View, The Devil’s Golf Course, the Artist’s Drive, and the Mesquite Sand Dunes- I most enjoyed the short time I got to spend here.

The "Badwater" Puddle - Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

Badwater Basin’s claim to fame is that it sits at the lowest point of elevation in all of North America, at 282 feet below sea level. Incredibly, the highest point of elevation in the lowest 48 states (Mt. Whitney) is only 76 miles West of here!

Looking North From Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

The area was given its name due to a small pool of water that now sits just next to the modern parking lot. This water was rendered undrinkable by the incredibly high concentration of salt, due to the unique geological features and geochemical makeup of the valley.

Clouds over Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

In all the traveling throughout Death Valley, this was the only place I saw any standing water whatsoever. And that’s probably not a shock to most of you who know a thing or two about the area (it’s one of the most arid environments in existence), but I was there during a massive rainstorm!

More Salt Formations at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

The entirety of Badwater Basin is covered in complex and intricate salt-crystal structures of magnificent beauty. This is one of the coolest, most beautiful, and most fascinating places I’ve ever been, and I’ve seen quite a few National Parks. I’d rank this as a must-see destination for anyone at all interested in natural beauty.

Contrasting Colors at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

As the sun began to dip below the mountain range hugging the valley floor, the shadows grew longer, and the features of the terrain even more spectacular. I sat in awe, watching the landscape transform as it began to glow golden-brown in the late afternoon light.

Detail of Salt Formations at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

The salt formations are created by an endless cycle of freezing and thawing that the area undergoes, when nighttime temperatures dip deep into the blue, while blazing daytime heat leads the thing salt crust surface to crack into hexagonal honeycomb-like shapes.

Close-Up of Salt Pinnacles - Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

Occasional rainstorms, like the one I witnessed my last night in the area, flood the valley and cover the entire area with a very thin sheet of standing water, no more a few centimeters deep. These shallow lakes don’t last long due to the daytime temperatures, with an annual evaporation rate of 150-inches!

Mountains of Salt at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

As Wikipedia points out, this is the United States’ “greatest evaporation potential”, and “means that even a 12-foot deep, 30-mile-long lake would dry up in a single year.” As the water evaporates, some of the salt gets dissolved which ends up being deposited on the sandy floor as clean crystals which eventually accumulate into the incredible oceanic-looking formations.

Salt Formations in Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

Close-up shots appear like aerial photography of the Himalayas, with the salt deposits creating the impression of snow-tipped peaks rising from the valley floor. Wandering around the salt plan gave me the impression of being a giant amongst a desolate, but captivating landscape.

Concentrated Salt-Crystal Structure at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

And in areas of extreme concentration, the salt-crystalline structures became increasingly complex. Like a colony of some sort of self-propagating polyps, the appearance of this bubbly landscape took my breath away, and forced me to reevaluate my conception of the area as a dry and dusty desert.

Salt Lines in the Sand at Badwater Basin - Death Valley National Park

Be sure to check out some of Death Valley’s other incredible sights by visiting the links listed below.

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.

Anitya - "Impermanence"

Pentax K10D with DA* 16-50mm f/2.8

Ethereal glow along the North Fork of the San Gabriel River