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.

Boulder Basin Campground Night Sky - A View of The Milky Way

My trip to Boulder Basin Campground turned out to be a lot more exciting than I had originally planned for. What was supposed to be a casual camping trip in 70 degree weather turned into a 20-degree white-out snowstorm that I had no idea was coming. Thankfully, as a good Eagle Scout, I live by the motto “Be Prepared”, and travel with all my gear no matter where I’m headed.

Directions to the Campground:

From the Interstate 10 in Banning, take CA 243 South, then turn left and drive six miles north on the dirt road called Black  Mountain Road (Forest Road 4S01). Black Mountain Road is relatively rough and on some websites is not recommended for non high-clearance vehicles, but I made it through easily in my Honda Civic.

Boulder Basin Campground Details:

The campsites here cost $10 per night and $5 for each additional car. You’ll be sitting at a relatively high elevation of 7500 feet. There are 34 campsites with fire pits and picnic tables at each one. Hiking trails are available on the nearby Black Mountain National Recreation Trail & the Pacific Crest Trail (which is 3 miles away).

The San Jacinto Wilderness Night Sky

Contact Information & Address:

Phone Number: (909) 382-2921

San Jacinto Ranger District

San Bernardino National Forest

54270 Pinecrest, Idyllwild, CA 92549

San Jacinto Wilderness Fire Lookout Tower

On my way along the 243 South up the mountains in Northern San Bernardino National Forest I encountered fast moving clouds and thick fog. High winds made the drive an interesting experience, and the moon peeking briefly out over the mountaintops set a scene of alluring eerieness. It didn’t help that I was driving by myself in the middle of night, hurtling toward parts unknown and previously unexplored.

Thick Fog Rolling Through the Campground

As I passed the Black Mountain Trailhead I noticed an interesting scene on the right-hand side of the road- a huge ledge overlooking the forested canyon below, over which a thick bank of fog was slowly creeping. The stars were out in full and I saw what I figured would make the perfect photograph. I decided to stop and take a shot at it, though I’ve got virtually no experience with astral or even night-time photography. The results were better than I had expected, though not as good as I’m hoping to achieve in future attempts.

Dense Fog Shrouds the Forest at Boulder Basin Campground

Shooting at night was certainly an experience, almost meditative in a way. I probably would have stayed on the scene longer and made additional attempts, but the thickest bank of fog I’ve ever seen rolled in and completely obscured all the moonlight, making shooting all but impossible. As I hopped back into the car my mind felt completely at peace and I at once had the idea to pop in Dark Side of the Moon. I figured it’d make the perfect backdrop for the journey, and I couldn’t have been more right.

20 Degree Temperatures Turn Dew to Frost Overnight

The drive up the unpaved road was uneven and slightly dangerous, but incredibly exciting! Both of my friends cars had made it without any major issues, so I figured I’d be alright too, but there were certainly a couple close calls. Oddly I had just been discussing Dark Side of the Rainbow and the synch between Echoes and 2001: A Space Odyssey at work that day, and the music seemed to synch up with the drive itself. Perhaps it’s just that the Floyd’s sound is so experimental and rich with subtleties, but occasionally I swear it’s like they’ve found some universal beat that powers the universe.

Looking North Toward Boulder Basin Group Camp

Any Colour You Like was just starting as I pulled up to the campsite, finding my friends sitting around the fire. I couldn’t simply turn it off though so I remained in the car and allowed the album to finish off. I felt well rested, invigorated perhaps even, when I finally stepped out into the dark cold. I was amped up from Red Bull, but they were ready to pass out so I ended up playing a little guitar to the forest as the temperatures rapidly dropped. I gave up when I could no longer feel my fingers and switched to photography.

My Double Rainbow's First Time In "Snow"

I set up my tripod and pointed it toward the incredible view of the milky way, snapping some long exposures in an attempt to capture it in full-color. It was so cold out that my batteries were completely drained within the first hour of shooting, even though all three of them had just been fully charged. I switched to my trusty old film camera and tried some super long exposures (5, 10, 20 minutes, and finally a 1 hour exposure). I have no idea how they’re turn out, which is both the problem with film, and the reason that I love it. You really never know what you’re getting until it’s developed.

Thick Fog North of our Campsite

I finally went to bed around 4:30, just as the sky was starting to get light. Sleep didn’t last too long though since I didn’t have a tent to provide any shade. I woke up to a cold morning (50′s or so) but was also greeted with deep blue skies and radiant sunshine. I sat on a gigantic tree stump to cook up an omelette and some hot chocolate in an attempt to warm myself up. My friends soon awoke and made breakfast for themselves, but we weren’t much in the mood for a hike so we ended up lounging around.

Wide Angle View of the Frozen Forest

Well into the afternoon we spent the day laying out in the sun as if we were at the beach. I even pulled out my straw hat to get some shade while basking in the sunlight and enjoying the crisp high-altitude air. At 7500 feet the sun felt nearly as strong as during a mid-summer beach trip.

A Beam of Sunlight Hits the Treetops

Sean and I then played guitar for a while, trying to figure out the chords to Bowie’s incredible Space Oddity, but we got hung up and had to look up the tab with his phone. Incredibly, there’s full cell reception at this campground, even though it seems to be in the middle of nowhere! The E7 chord was our missing form, and once we had it the rest of the song fell right into place.

Clear of Fog for Just a Moment

Thick fog soon rolled in, considerably dropping the temperature to a no longer comfortable level. In a period of just a few minutes, it changed from beach weather to outright freezing, forcing us to don fleece’s and beanies. We then hiked up to the fire lookout, hoping for a nice view over the valley, but at the top it was totally fogged in. We sat on some big rocks for a few minutes, hoping the fog would clear, catching short glimpses of Casino Morongo and the desert valley below. Everyone else got cold and went back down to camp, but I stayed behind for a quick meditation.

A Fog-Free Shot Down The Slope

When I got back down to the campsite we started the beer pong games, with Travis and I taking on Sean and Chaz (Sean chose Chaz as his partner in the hopes that he could resurrect the old all-left-handed dream team “God’s Children” (Sean & Kaveh’s team name at Malibu Creek State Park). It didn’t work out for them though, partly because they couldn’t close out their games, and partly because Travis pulled two five-cup streaks. We played 6 games of 6 cups each. In two of them we made comebacks after being down 5-1, and three times we killed them without retaliation by sinking the last two cups on the same round. It was a smack-down of epic proportions.

The Storm Gathers Over Fuller Lake

After beer pong came dinner and an obsession with trying to keep warm. We got the fire going, but the fog kept getting thicker, temperatures kept dropping, and total darkness soon fell. After a few rounds of large rain drops Sean and I each decided that we’d need to set up our tents for the night – just in case the shit hit the fan. I had been hoping that the fog would clear and give me the chance to do some more star photography, but it never happened. The moon seemed brighter and the clouds only got thicker, without even the slightest sign of letting up.

Dense Banks of Fog Roll Through the San Jacinto Mountains

I was so cold when it came time for bed that I decided to using a “hot water bottle” to keep myself from freezing. I didn’t have a rugged bottle (like a Nalgene), but an old plastic gatorade bottle did just the trick. I was a bit worried it’d spill during the night, but it held up just fine. It provided with hours of good warmth and I’ll definitely be trying it again next time the mercury drops.

The Indian View Lookout Point - Before The Storm Hits

I woke up well-rested, but absolutely frigid. The hot water bottle had lost all its warmth and even two down jackets weren’t enough to stop the bite of the freezing morning air. I was also pissed that my tent had let in so much fine dust throughout the night that it had covered everything, including my expensive sleeping bag. Some frozen condensation had built up on it’s surface, and as it melted the dust turned into a mud-like substance. I was terrified my bag was getting destroyed, but too damn cold to do anything about it.

The Snowstorm Rages On Around Me

All I could think about was warming myself up, but I had a severely limited water supply because all of mine (except for the hot water bottle) had frozen completely solid during the night. I reheated what little I had, took a quick sip, then stuffed the now hot bottle beneath my down jacket, just outside my thermal top. I was warm again within just a few minutes. These hot water bottles are a godsend!

My Car During a Lull in the Storm

I grabbed my camera and shot some photos of the trees, now completely covered in frost, watching the fog roll in and out. My fingers got so cold that they basically quit working entirely. Everyone else soon woke up and they were so cold that they decided to start packing right away. I was so cold I got back into my bag with the water bottle and both down jackets on, but I didn’t feel like leaving. I wanted to stay in case the fog lifted, even though that seemed like a bit of a long-shot.

The Big Tree - After the First Wave of Snow

After getting a fire going we started packing and the cold got the best of me. I decided it’d be too dangerous to stick around if all my friends left, just in case something went wrong on my drive out the dirt road. My friends headed straight home, but curiosity got the better of me and I stopped at the Lake Fuller picnic area to check out the scene. While hiking around the lake I was greeted with a very light dusting of snowflakes, something I hadn’t experienced in years. It wasn’t anything major, but it still felt like a gift from the Gods. I was ecstatic at the thought of seeing some real snow.

Another Shot of the Big Tree - Looking West

I then decided that instead of driving back North on the 243 and home along the 10, I’d head South through Idyllwild, then back home via the 74. But just a quarter of a mile from Lake Fuller I stopped again at the Indian Vista look out point, hoping to get a good view of the valley below. While standing at the overlook shooting photos of the fog, it started to snow a little harder than before.

Calm Sets in Between Waves of the Storm

Light snow turned into a flurry, which gave way to a tremendous hail-fall and then just minutes later a full on white-out. It got so bad that I had to get my snowboarding goggles from the car and carry my nearly-waterproof camera in a gigantic plastic bag. It was so cold that the batteries went dead again just about instantly, though I was able to resurrect them by placing them in my down jackets pockets for a few minutes. I stood in the falling snow watching the flakes spiraling all around me, enjoying this unique experience and simply listening to the snow. It mad ea sound like nothing I’d ever heard before, and was an incredibly unique experience.

The Boulder Basin Fire Lookout Tower

The foliage and dirt was quickly covered by snow, but rocks and the concrete path wouldn’t allow it to stick. After about an inch or so of snow had fallen the skies cleared up virtually instantly, offering spectacular views of the surrounding area. But a new storm-cell and a massive thunderhead soon rolled up through the valley and unleashed a furious snow-fall like I’ve never seen before. I couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of me, but I loved the sound and feel of the storm. Again, it seemed like a gift from the heavens. I’ve never witnessed so much natural power and I was so awestruck that the hours flew by as if they’d only been minutes.

Vertical Shot of the Icy San Jacinto Forest

Three hours later I finally started to make my way back down the mountain at a speed of just over five miles per hour, but even then nearly skidded out while driving over a patch of ice during a steep uphill climb. I kept what felt like a snail’s pace after that, though still managed to catch up to a slow caravan of SUVs being led by an old car. We paraded ever so slowly down the mountain, making our way past chains checkpoints that had just been set up, and passing along a couple of snow plows on their way up from the valley floor.

Silent Giants Loom in the Fog at Boulder Basin Campground

The storm was getting worse behind me and I must have left just in time to actually make it out without having to call for help. Further down the hill snow turned to hail, which soon became rain, then giving way to deep blue skies and sunshine near the valley floor. Incredible cumulous clouds were scattered throughout the valley, and the weather turned calm and beautiful, but far more boring than that which I’d just been watching.

Looking Down the Valley

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

These six shots were taken during a recent Camping Trip to the Sandy Flat Campground in Sequoia National Forest. Unfortunately, my Circular Polarizer ($100 lens filter) was destroyed during the generation of these images (due to sheer stupidity).

While I don’t think that their quality was worth the loss, I did learn a valuable lesson in the process: never place sensitive photographic equipment in close proximity to extreme heat.

It All Started Out So Simple (And Ugly)

Soon Becoming More Complex (I Like The Wavy Log On The Right)

Conflagration

Circular Polarizer Screaming In Agony

Enfuego