Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Thoughts from the hiking trail to San Jacinto Peak

Out on the trail, a man has a lot of time to think. This past weekend, I spent 7.5 hours in the San Jacinto State Park Wilderness. While I did say "hey" to a few of my fellow hikers, and I even stopped to chat with a few, the majority of that time was spent with my thoughts.

Collection of maps and guides for San Jacinto and Southern California
I'm a map guy, so I had several maps with me to help me find my way from the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway's Mountain Station to the summit of San Jacinto Peak, looming 10,834 feet above the Los Angeles Basin. I picked up the free state parks map from the ranger station, and I bought the $2 map available at the tram's gift shop. I even brought along two hiking guide books with maps of their own. I was well equipped to find my way.

Sign near the San Jacinto Peak trail head in Long Valley
Still, as I walked from the lush forests of lodgepole pines at the bottom of Long Valley to the sloping fields of enormous black-speckled white boulders above, my eyes took constant notice of the trail and its many signs, made by nature as well as left by man.

A ridgeline rises from the mostly dry stream-bed leaving Long Valley
Trails have a way of following the easiest route, much like water. In fact, many old trails follow the paths of the flourishing and green riparian environment, close to streams where travelers and their animals would find refreshment and cool respite away from the blazing sun. Other trails follow ridge-lines, where the elements of land and sky come together to aid onward navigation. At least that's how it is here in the desert southwest, home of grand mountains.

From Round Valley, Cornell Peak, rises to 9,721', still 1,000' below the goal
Along the well-worn path to San Jacinto peak, I followed the low trail, along a creek bed whose springtime rush had calmed and collected in near-still pools among the leaf litter of the forest floor, a vibrant riparian canyon. The trail signs led me, sometimes steeply up the sloping canyon walls, to the popular wilderness campground at Round Valley. From there I could see the various smaller peaks within Mount San Jacinto State Park, which lead northward toward the mountain's high point - San Jacinto Peak. Even these smaller peaks seemed so far off. Later, though, as I reached the top, I was humbled by the realization of how small they actually were, and by knowing that I was that much smaller still.

Rain over lower Coachella Valley and Salton Sea, seen from Wellman Divide
Continuing on, I struggled a mile or so more to reach the popular resting point Wellman Divide, a saddle where one catches the first glimpse of the sweeping Coachella Valley below, and of the Salton Sea many miles to the southeast, that disappears into the shimmering grey horizon.

Tall pines thrive among a field of black-speckled white boulders
The trail rises gently to the east en route to San Jacinto Peak
From Wellman Divide a number of trails branch off, which at first glace is confusing, but fortunately a clearly marked junction sign post was there to spark me off again in the right direction. The trail from the divide is more gentle, slowly climbing through a boulder field - more impressive than the one before - and rising finally above treeline to reveal carpets of low-lying alpine shrubs. The shrubs were teeming with bees, so much so that as I sat silent on a rock amidst them their buzz sounded almost mechanical and techno, like I was inside a factory of some sort as machines droned on to do the work of man.
Gently beauty on upper portion of San Jacinto Peak trail from Long Valley
The bees love these alpine shrubs on the trail to San Jacinto Peak
The upper reaches of the trek became less well-signed and I had to rely more on informal forms of finding my way. The final ascent led to an emergency cabin, constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s, and from this point any sense of an official trail all but disappears. The remaining climb becomes a free-for-all scramble. Cairns, or piles of rock left by hikers who have come before, give a general idea of which way to turn. Everyone seems to pick their own best way here, as the trail spreads out and you are suddenly joined by folks who took other routes up to the peak. Eventually you find yourself maneuvering among a cap of loosely fitting large boulders, one of which is higher than all the others on this great mountain.
Emergency cabin, built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s
Cairn marks the way to the final reaches of the San Jacinto Peak trail

Pulling myself up onto these huge behemoths of rock made me tense as I could not ignore the question of how I might make my way back down. But the call of the summit was great, and capturing it was the only thought imminent, and I was sure that reaching it was the only way to make sense of all the effort I'd put into finding my way to this point in the first place. So I tucked my maps and my camera in my backpack, took my time boulder by boulder, and finally made my way to my destination on top of Mount San Jacinto.

The end of the trail, San Jacinto Peak, elevation 10,834 feet
Peace and victory, at the top of the world on San Jacinto Peak
Flush with joy upon reaching the summit, I almost lost my balance and fell off the slanted pile of boulders as soon as I'd topped it. Fortunately, I maintained balance, and so I hopped on the capstone boulder for just long enough to have a 360-degree view and let a fellow hiker take my picture to mark the accomplishment. There were others waiting for their own photo opp, so I shimmied my way back down, and as I stepped on a boulder just under the one on top, I noticed that tucked beneath it was a little box apparently holding the remains of a mountaineer who never made his way back down.

Unfortunate reminder that not all who make it to San Jacinto Peak return
From here I snapped a few shots and finally had a great look around, making my way from 2nd-tier boulder to 2nd-tier boulder, to identify the surrounding peaks of the Transverse Range and the small mounts of Catalina and the Channel islands I could make out far to the west. Then I made my way back to the main trail to begin my descent to the trail head.

View of Diamond Valley Lake and Laguna Mountains from San Jacinto Peak
What I thought about during all that time out on the trail is hard to put it in to just one simple sound bite. But as you read through my blogs and follow me on the adventures yet to come, you'll probably get a good idea of what's going on in my head as I ramble round the wild places of the world.

And please know, I really do appreciate you reading my blog and joining me on my adventures. It's great to be alone sometimes, but friends are what truly make living worthwhile!

For more info on the hike to San Jacinto Peak, check out the blog HikeyHikey! For info on hiking and other fit-life activities, check out MyFitLife2Day.

2 comments:

  1. Wow..what a powerful reminder at the top. Rondie and I chatter away the time mainly to distract us from the pain..or being overwhelmed at the task at hand. Much like the first hike you challenged me to reach the top...and those words...that encouragement keeps me going now regardless of the challenge ahead.

    Thanks Brian for giving me a great example to aspire to!
    Laina

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  2. Would you mind if I use one of your pictures (Rain over lower Coachella Valley and Salton Sea, seen from Wellman Divide) in an engineer report about rain in the Coachella Valley? BTW, awesome pictures, it just made me want to leave right now for this hike.

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