Isla en el cielo: roaming the San Bernardino Mountains

Pineknot Trail to Grand View Point
June 2014

We needed a hike that would get us out into the wilderness of Southern California (no biggie). Something with mountains and critters and at least a little less traffic than you might find on the 405 at rush hour. We decided to head to Big Bear and check out a 7 mile trail called Pineknot. The trail goes up about 1,100 feet to an altitude of about 8,000 and has sweeping views of the San Bernardino Mountains, including San Gorgonio, the tallest peak (11,500 feet) in Southern California.

The San Bernardinos are a fascinating group of mountains for a variety of reasons. To begin with, they're part of the Transverse Ranges, unique in and of themselves because they run east-west, unlike most California coastal ranges, which run north-south. The California Aqueduct runs through the San Bernardinos, which also include one of the deepest valleys in the United States, San Gorgonio Pass, which is deeper than the Grand Canyon by over 2,000 feet. What I think is most fascinating about the San Bernardinos as a geological structure is that they are what is known as a "Sky Island," which means that the ecosystems supported in the mountains are dramatically different from those in the land below (such as the Mojave Desert).

Baba said, "Do you think, if we held hands, we could reach all the way around the tree?" We could.

We had views of Big Bear Lake on the north side of the trail, which was mostly uphill and did some switchbacking along the hillside and past small valley meadows like this one:

photo cred.: Mom

photo cred.: Baba

photo cred.: Mom

photo cred.: Mom

I felt particularly enthralled by the plant life along the trail. We saw tons of Jeffrey Pines up in the mountains, as well as dozens of California Chipmunks, who chased each other around with their spindly tails held high in the air like go-cart flags. Also, Manzanita, California Black Oak, Lupines, ... one trumpet shaped plant that smelled divine, which I have not been able to identify, and an evergreen tree that smelled like citrus, also an enigma.

photo cred.: Mom

photo cred.: Mom

Jeffrey Pines have jigsaw puzzle bark, which is beautiful and curious.

photo cred.: Mom

Lupines - the biggest I've seen in the wild! 

photo cred.: Mom

We all felt the altitude in our temples and heads as we hit the trail. About midway up, I started feeling a little nauseated too. Mom had the same feeling on the way back down...But the view from the top of Grand View Point was invigorating. You can see snow-capped Gorgonio in this picture:

photo cred.: Baba

This rock (along with Mom's homegrown cucumbers) saved my life. It's probably the most comfortable place I've ever rested my weary bones. If we didn't have a four mile hike down the mountain, I would have taken it home with me!

photo cred.: Mom

Bab's ready for lunch.:

photo cred.: Mom

photo cred.: Mom

photo cred.: Mom

And then, we hiked back down. It had to have been the prettiest hike I've ever been on in Southern California. All rugged and vast and piney and vibrant, and it smelled delicious. I feel refreshingly charmed by the San Bernardino Mountains and intend to become very much more acquainted with them.

photo cred.: Baba

 Excuse the random mountain biker posing a picture of his bike impaled on a felled tree.

photo cred: Baba

photo cred: random Mountain Biker's friend, another random Mountain Biker

-R.E.A.

Point Reyes

"No Holier Temple": A night in Yosemite

 April 2014

Over the course of the past year and dozens of random musings over beer and basketball games, we developed a plan to take a backpacking trip to Yosemite. I had never been to Yosemite before and was dying for another night of backpacking. Throwing the fact that I have no space left to store anything in my apartment and have taken up using my car trunk as a storage unit to the wind, we loaded up on the last supplies we would need to make the trip.

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

I don't know why because I've seen dozens of pictures of Half Dome and John Muir shaking hands with presidents on the rock fronts of Yosemite, but I was under the mistaken impression that it was a place of dense, giant redwoods and forested mountains. Rather, Yosemite is a landscape of demonstrative granite mountain sides and it really does take your breath away with its stark, rugged certainty. We planned our trip for the last weekend in April and I found a trail in Hetch Hetchy Valley, a less beaten area of Yosemite and also one of the few long trails that is not still under snow at that time of year. But a  few weeks before our trip, the trail was closed down for a rock slide and we had to change course. We picked out another trail, but also asked the ranger at the station when we got there for some recommendations. He suggested the trail to Laurel Lake and Lake Vernon and warned us that there would be some snow on the ground. I don't think we knew exactly what he meant, but I'm so glad it all turned out the way it did because we had the most wonderful time!

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

Rock slides weren't the only thing that threatened our trip. The night before we left, as Jason and Behn were leaving our 2,365th trip to REI, Behn's truck got a flat. Apparently, Costco supplied the food while they waited.

photo cred.: Jason

There's a lodge on the way up to the ranger station where we stopped to have a bite from our packs (and a beer). It was a cool little place with cabins and a [deserted] restaurant, and a little general store manned by folks in their 20s whose lives I wonder about.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

And then we were there. After aquiring some valuable information at the ranger station (both solicited and unsolicited), we were ready to go:

photo cred.: Behn

This is the first thing we saw after we got out of our car and began climbing (sliding) down the hill to the Hetch Hetchy Reservour, the gateway to our trailhead:

photo cred: Jason

Behn named her Sally (the Salamander) and we saw her kith and kin on several other occasions during the hike.

The trail begins just across the O'Shaughnessy Dam, which creates the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, providing water to millions of people in San Francisco and other spots in the bay area. It's a pretty substantial dam - and one that has caused significant controversy since its drafting, creating a distinct divide between, among others, environmentalists and preservationists - including John Muir who supposedly once postulated: "Dam Hetch Hetchy! As well dam for water tanks the peoples' cathedrals and churches, for no holier temple has been consecrated by the heart of man!" (San Francisco ultimately won the battle...big surprise!) You can see some pretty interesting before and after pictures on the dam's Wikipedia page. After you cross the dam, you go through this old sand blasted tunnel through the mountain to get to the trailhead on the other side. It's dank and dark and puddle-wonderful and battish (though we didn't see any) through the tunnel and I couldn't help but think about what we would - or should - do if we happened to see a bear come ambling through at the same time as we were passing by. I still don't know. In the dam pictures, you can see a waterfall low on the mountain in the background.

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

The trail we chose was supposed to take us 8 miles up to Vernon Lake, which, I hear is simply beautiful in the summertime, a great lake for camping, swimming, and fishing. We never made it to Vernon, but we did make it about 6.5 miles to Beehive Meadow, which was so snow-covered when we got there that it looked less like a meadow and more like anyplace-that-wasn't-a-swamp to rest our weary bones.

The trail to Lake Vernon (and Beehive Meadow) starts after the tunnel with a dirt trail overlooking a stunning view of the Tuolumne River and Kolana Rock. On our return trip, we caught sight of what I suspect was an American Peregrine Falcon. The Peregrine Falcon has been saved from the endangered species list in part due to efforts to protect its nesting sites in Yosemite Valley. Kolana Rock - among other areas in the vicinity - is often closed between March and July for Peregrine Falcon nesting. Here's some interesting information about it: http://www.nps.gov/yose/naturescience/ss-bird-species.htm    and   \http://www.nps.gov/yose/planyourvisit/climbingclosures.htm

You can see Kolana Rock dead ahead in the next picture. It's over 2,000 feet tall and one of the most demonstrative - and stunning - granite structures in the area. The trail continues past the River and Rock to a series of switchbacks that take you straight up the granite mountainside. You think, when you reach the top of those switchbacks, that you are finished gaining altitude. You are wrong. But it's best that your aching legs do not know that in advance.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

Another thing that nearly stopped us from the trip was the weather report. It had been beautiful and sunny in Sac and Yosemite for weeks, but when I checked the forecast a few days before our trip, it showed stormy skies with rain on Friday and the possibility of rain and snow that weekend. The forecast didn't improve and when I talked to the ranger on the phone he said there appeared to be a storm front moving in. By the time we reached the top of the switchbacks, we could see the tail end of the storm front agitating the sky. It was beautiful. It mostly just blew over, but not before it spit a little bit of fine, white hail at us. Hiking in (light) hail is invigorating and delightful!

SKY!!:

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

Here I am being a big, fat, exhausted woman eating a Clif Bar.

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Behn

 Is Jason curtsying?

photo cred.: Behn

 I am offering my life into the hands of the forest. Behn's got it under control.

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

That's my trash bag arm in the bottom, right corner.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

...And then, Behn experienced snow...:

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Jason

...And forded a stream using an unstable, snow-covered log because he didn't have waterproof shoes...

photo cred.: Jason

...And we found ourselves shin-deep in snow...

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

This is Musket. We noticed him munching grasses off to our right and stopped to watch. Then, we continued walking. Musket galloped softly up behind us, cut in front of our path, and over to our left. He was stunning and unafraid.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

We never made it to Lake Vernon, or even Laurel Lake, which was about a mile closer. We hit a place called Beehive Meadow pretty thoroughly exhausted, and in late afternoon. In the meadow, we ran into a group of three other backpackers who had started out with similar plans to our own. They warned us that the path to Laurel Lake from the meadow was pretty much a swamp. They had decided to camp in the meadow that night instead. After poking around a bit, we decided that was a pretty good idea. It was a bummer to miss out on the lakes, but we ended up really loving our campsite. Anyway, it gives us yet another reason to go back!

I'll be honest, I was pretty useless by this point. We cleared a little area under some trees, filtered some water from the swamp, which was flowing lightly in spots, and pitched tents. The gents collected wood for a fire. All evening and night, as the snow melted and got heavy on the tree branches overhead, we could hear big piles of it falling from the trees onto the ground in loud crashes. It was the un-silence of great, natural silence.

Home:

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

And then we ate. Behn had found a Persian freeze-dried meal at REI. He also found freeze-dried cobbler and brought along some whiskey, so we ate cobbler with whiskey and tea (also with whiskey) for dessert. That was a good life decision.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Jason

Behn had wet socks. So he roasted them by the fire. Literally.

photo cred.: Behn

During dinner, I heard a crackling in the woods and shone my headlamp on it. This is who we saw:

photo cred.: Behn

It was a cold night, but the gear held up, and, except for our cold feet, we were mostly fairly comfortable. Morning in a remote, snowy meadow is a world apart: breathtaking and exhilarating, and proof (again) of a creative, loving, powerful God. We made another little fire in our (amazing) fire pit and had a good breakfast. We debated hiking to one of the lakes before heading back down the mountain, but we were having too good of a time indulging in a night's sleep, the warm fire, the beautiful landscape, the fresh air, and each other's company. We shot the breeze for a few hours and then headed back down. It was sad to say goodbye to our little campsite. It had taken good care of us. It felt like home.

photo cred.: Jason

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

Believe it or not, this series of pictures was NOT posed. They're just like this.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

 Bear?

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

Can you see them? There were three, but I don't think they are all in the pictures.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

When we reached the bottom again, we decided to travel a little ways down another trail to Wapama Falls. The day before, some other hikers had told us that there was a Mama bear and her baby over in that direction. We didn't have time to get all the way to the Falls, since the park was closing soon and we had to get our car out the front gate. So we just dropped our big packs behind some rocks and took off down the trail to see what we could see. At first, the trail winds downward into a kind of lush gully along a stream and it really does look like the perfect bear habitat. We kept expecting to catch sight of one, but sadly never did. Eventually, though, you come out of the undergrowth to the edge of the Tuolumne River and the landscape suddenly looks like something straight out of The Lion King. Granite slabs cover the ground and the mountain front is shiny with rock and water. It is amazing and other-worldly.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

It's hard to put the trip into words. I've never been in any wilderness that didn't move and inspire me, but I have never experienced anything quite like this. It's the kind of thing that fills your soul to the brim and then, when it's over, leaves you forever stronger, forever happier, forever more certain of the beauty of the world, of your imminent smallness and your infinite importance. That trip to Yosemite is ingrained in me somewhere undefinable and it affects my daily life in an indistinguishable way. Put simply, I am in love with Yosemite. I can't leave it behind.

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

photo cred.: Behn

-R.E.A.

P.S. Thanks to Behn and Jason for taking all the pictures so I could enjoy the landscape (and get my butt up the mountain). And, of course, for being the most awesome backpacking buddies!! Here's to many more!