Mt. San Gorgonio

I spent this weekend punishing myself. Saturday was one of the most physically challenging days of my life, and certainly the toughest in the last 11 years. In that time, I have lost my skinny shape and replaced it with a considerably rounder one.

I went with Gene and Jeremy, once again. We hit the trail relatively early, though we all wanted to have started even earlier. The plan was to backpack up to Halfway Camp, set up there, and day hike to the summit.

The trail we were taking, Vivian Creek, is well-known as one of the most strenous trails in Southern California. I have yet to find a person who disagrees. I was concerned for many reasons; my overall physical shape, my shin splints, and my lack of recent training with full backpacking gear. My last two trips with a backpack, to Dry Lake (other side of the mountain) and Coyote Canyon in Anza Borrego, made me feel that I needed more time before taking on such a considerable challenge.

The first 1.2 miles up to Vivian Creek ascends approximately 1,100 feet, an absolutely brutal climb. Going slow, I made progress and my legs felt fine. Only fatigue was setting me back, a welcome development. I made it to the creek only about 5 minutes after Jeremy.

The next set of mileage to Halfway camp (mileage uncertain due to several maps with several mileage numbers) was a steady climb but I was starting to finally feel fatigue catching up to me. It was just in a nick of time that the trail crossed back over Vivian, the sign that you were entering Halfway camp. The total climb in backpacking gear was about 2,100 feet and thinking about Whitney's climb from the Portal to Trail Camp (3,900 feet) made me wonder if that was going to be feasible.

Jeremy and Gene set up their tent (I was going to sleep on the ground) and we put up our bear bags. We all had camelbacks and after an early lunch we headed out to conquer the summit of San Gorgonio. We still had nearly 3,500 vertical feet to go. I pointed out Dobbs Peak towering above us and noted that we would need to go 1,000 feet higher than that mountain. The comment wasn't greeted with enthusiam.

As far as actual distance, High Creek is not too far from Halway Camp, but the trail zig zags the mountain it sits near until reaching an altitude of 9,300 feet. This wasn't too bad of a hike except the last very steep portion. At this point, I wasn't falling too far behing Gene and Jeremy. Still, I had been here before and knew just how tough the next section would be.

A big change from High Creek to the ridge that I noticed was that the switchbacks were vastly lengthened. This made for a moderate climb instead of the very steep climb I remembered as a kid. As a consquence, the trail was much longer. I was starting to tire though, and fell back of Gene and Jeremy. They were only 100 feet above me on the trail, but that meant they were a quarter mile or more ahead of me. I finally reached them on the ridgetop which is a well-known spot for San Gorgonio hikers because it is at roughly 10,000 feet. This is also the first spot that you get a good look at the summit, still 1,500 feet above you. It is a very intimidating sight.

Jeremy and Gene continued but at this point they were gone and I felt like I had hit a wall. I don't know if it was natural physical conditioning, or altitude, or something else, but every footstep left me fatigued and weak. Doubts began to creep into my mind. The Red Ridge is an orange/red colored spot that is another landmark, and I could see the last creep of the trail to the summit junction. And it was absolutely brutal, straight up, clearly delineated being above the tree line, no rest in sight.

I felt that I could only walk 50 feet at a time. I sat on virtually every boulder along the trail. I keep looking back at Mt. San Jacinto, where I stood 7 days before, gauging my progress with its 10,800 girth. The front peak ahead of San Gorgonio was about 10,900 and I stared and stared. Was I above it, even with it, below it? The guessing fatigued my mind as much as my body.

I kept thinking about quitting. The easy way out. The way I would choose when I was young. I encountered a group of gentlemen descending from the summit. They could see the exhausting in my eyes. It was obvious. They told me I was close and that I could do it. One pointed to the pile of rocks and said I was right there; I told him I had been staring at it for hours. They pointed out the summit junction, I was closer than I thought.

I gave it a try. Reaching the junction was such a release for me. I knew I was over 11,200 feet at this point. I had just about made it. I could see over Jepson Peak which I knew was 11,205. I made it to the foothill of the rock pile to find Jeremy and Gene there. Truth be told, they had been there for quite some time, but this time I don't think they were as surprised to see me. As I said, "I may be super slow, but I don't quit." It was a proud moment to make it. The climb was 5,500 feet in a single day, equivalent to starting at sea level and making it higher than the City of Denver.

The hike back down to Halfway Camp proved to be tough too. My back was hurting me at this point and my legs had given all they could. We had over 5 miles to go and the sun was beginning to set. I had to stop occassionally, a rare thing for hiking downhill. Jeremy and Gene were running out of water and only made it due to some good campers who offered to filter water for them at High Creek. You encounter some great people in the mountains.

I was still rounding the hill from High Creek to Halfway when it got really dark. I had to hike in total darkness for the last 20 minutes to Halfway. It didn't bother me, my eyes adjusted well, but it was a welcome sight to see a flashlight inside a tent near one of the top campsites.

I ate a little, mainly fruit, while Jeremy and Gene cooked a meal on their stove. They used a different brand that they didn't like. I set up my sleeping area, which only took a couple minutes, and I slept. Like at home, I tossed and turned a lot. I slept in fits. I never was completely comfortable and the mosquitos were irritating. I may have to buy one of those nets for sleeping next time I go to REI. They look lame but its not a bad price to pay.

The campers next to us in the morning were a little annoying, making too much noise, but I was ready to get up anyway. We were greeted with a fun surprise, a bear in camp standing very close to our bear bag. I was impressed with everybody at camp who enjoyed watching the guy, but also confidently leaving him alone. He was a big guy, and didn't appear to have missed a meal. Clearly, our goodies in the trees attracted his attention, and I don't blame him. When you do the right thing, like hanging your bear bags properly, you can enjoy the sight. Jeremy and I tried to shoot photos of him. It was too early to shoot without a flash, and the photos I got were very dark. Still, good to see him. He finally decided we weren't offering anything to him, and he quietly headed up through the bushes and got on with the rest of his day.

From then, we put our backpacks back on and headed out. I took the lead and kept a decent pace. My back wasn't hurting at that point but my legs were certainly sore. The Vivian portion also proved to be tough, it was so steep that my legs got a huge workout and my knees hurt from all the hard impact. I was glad to make it down, to cross Mill Creek and head back to the truck. It was an accomplishment indeed for all three of us.

Now, from this point, I have a lot of thinking and soul-searching to do. I enjoy hiking, and I enjoy the photography I do as a result. The exercise is great. I feel stronger. But I do feel that this trek pushed me to the limit or perhaps passed it. I also wondered if I was struggling with such physical exertion at altitude, something important to consider since Mt. Whitney is 3,000 feet higher than San Gorgonio. I've heard people say that Gorgonio is tougher, but I will have to backpack twice as far on Whitney. I am still much slower than most people. Thinking back to hiking as a kid, I was never fast and often brought up the rear, but I am really wondering if I would be holding the group back.

I need to give it a lot of thought. Is Whitney something I can really do this year? Am I in good enough shape to do this? Is there something I can do from today forward to get ready? What I don't want to do is make an attempt and fail. So...expect me to put a lot of thought into this new challenge before committing to it. Because right now I am nervous about my ability to do it. I am not sure at this moment if I am really ready.

Mt. San Jacinto July 27 2008

I don't even know where to begin.

I rode with my friends Gene and Jeremy to Palm Springs where we took the Aerial Tramway up to 8,500 feet elevation. It is the easiest way to climb Mt. San Jacinto but it certainly wasn't easy today. I am getting to that.

For the 2 or 3 people who have been reading my blog know, I have been fighting shin splints for quite some time. I have good days and bad days. Today began as a very bad day. Immediately upon our first steps into Long Valley, my legs were failing me. I had to stop repeatedly. I was holding back Gene and Jeremy and every step I took brought on more ferocious pain, especially my left leg. The pain was as intense as I have felt in my life. It took me probably 2 hours just to hike the 2 miles to Round Valley. At that point, I could see they were frustrated, and I certainly was too.

I made the decision to call it a day. I couldn't go any further and I was holding them back. Jeremy and Gene said they would reach the peak and meet me either in Round Valley or back at the Tram Station.

There were wide-ranging consequences of what I was going through. At that moment, it seemed clear to me that my days hiking were over. This meant Mt. Whitney was out, as well as the hike next weekend up San Gorgonio which corresponded with my birthday. This wasn't to be taken lightly. I love the outdoors and hiking if the main way you enjoy it.

A few others may know that I attemped to climb the peak in 1990 with my BSA troop. Only, my map was marked wrong and at the Wellman Divide I headed north instead of camping at Round Valley with my troop. I spent the night on the trail until Search and Rescue came looking for me. I knew I was close to the peak, and I didn't make it. It has bothered me all these years.

I found a rock to sit on and let my legs burns and cool down for the next 45 minutes. I needed every second of it, my left leg in particular was on fire. After a while, I grew weary of sitting there and I walked around a little, making a circle around the Round Valley meadow. I could see the peaks like Jean, Miller, and Cornell jutting skyward. It was frustrating to be grounded.

Earlier in the day, Gene and Jeremy made an observation. They thought I was walking flat-footed. This is not something I was apt to pay attention to because when you have muscle memory, you tend to let your body do it for you. With a little more range of motion in my left foot, I exaggerated a heel-toe walk to see if walking this way, if it were different than my normal gait, would help.

At first, there was little difference, but I made a curious decision. I would head up the trail to the Wellman Divide, to see how far I could get. It was only 1 mile, but climbed 700 feet making it very steep. At the same time I did this, an older gentleman hiked ahead of me and I noticed he was keeping a very slow pace - perfect for me. I followed behind him, careful to stop when he did. My shins still hurt, but it wasn't debilitating. After some patient time had passed, I saw us cross the creek and I realized I was almost to the junction. What a surprise! I could see the ridge just above me and at this time, I was up to 9700' elevation.

Then, the thought hit me. I am starting to feel better, my stamina is still good, what if? What if I could get higher up the trail to meet back up with Jeremy and Gene. I continued north, and I honestly felt a second wind I hadn't felt before. I moved as quickly as I could, and I believe it was a good pace because I passed a number of people who hiked ahead of me earlier in the day when I could barely walk. The distant peaks of Jean and Miller were surprisingly close. I kept going, and the thought finally hit me that I might catch them in time to make my own ascent.

Alas, I passed a group coming down who I encountered earlier in the day. They told me I was at 10,200'! I couldn't believe it, but what was more remarkable was that I was only 600 feet from the summit, in elevation. They thought I was only about 1 mile from the top. As luck would have it, I immediately ran into Jeremy and Gene who seemed generally shocked to see me so far up the trail. And I didn't have answers for them, I don't know what force it was that carried me that far but it was remarkable.

I immediately negotiated with them. They knew I wanted this climb for a lot of reasons and they decided I was close enough to do it. Even better, they decided to go back up with me. With my renewed energy, I put my focus on climbing and I think they would agree I kept up a good pace. Within minutes, we were doing the final rock scrambling up and unbelievably, improbably, I found myself on the summit of Mt. San Jacinto. After 18 years, there I was.

As many a hiker will tell you, when you make the summit, you are only halfway. So we had to get on with things and head down the mountain. The pace was good, with few breaks. Just a few to calm down everybody's legs and knees which were starting to ache. I even found the rock I slept on 18 years ago and showed it to Jeremy and Gene. I still remembered that rock.

Coming down, we ran into a lady named Christine (Kristine?), who had passed me and hiked near Jeremy and Gene most of the day. She appeared to be struggling and her friend had left her behind. She had her hands to her head in a clear sign of a headache. As it turned out, she had run out of water which is dangerous in the mountains. We gave her a bottle of water, a Clif bar, and a couple of Jeremy's naproxen. I hope she made it through okay. She was quite beautiful and asked us for a business card to thank us, only I was too dense to think to get her phone number or email address. The usual for me. I did have the pleasure of lecturing her friend on leaving her behind. What a jerk. You don't leave people behind in the wilderness.

I did fill out a permit card with my name, phone, and email but alas, I never saw her again. A shame.

Now that the peak is done, I really am in a quandary. Is my way of walking causing my leg problems? Is it that simple a solution? Can I realistically do San Gorgonio next weekend, with the first 4 miles wearing a full backpack? I am very nervous about that, and Whitney is only 3 weeks away. Next weekend will be test.

Today, I failed and then passed with flying colors. What a strange world. On the Whitney confidence scale, I would say I am a 3 right now.

Tahquitz Peak

It was a dark and stormy day...Jeremy and I climbed Tahquitz Peak. For me, it was my 2nd ascent up the peak and my first in over 10 years. As for the usual protocol, I got off to a very slow start. Jeremy was patient with me, and it prevented me from getting shin splints on the hike.

The weather was interesting, with gusts of wind blowing clouds over the peak and from the south. I was wearing a shirt with no sleeves, so the gusts were quite cold. There were intermittent rains. We found a tree to huddle under to let them pass.

The trail was measured at 3.6 miles with a '2400 elevation gain. It did not feel like a steep trail though and that either means the mileage is mismeasured on the trail or I am starting to be more confident going up the trail. I won't give myself any credit, it is probably the former.

The trail roughly followed the South Ridge that leads up to the peak. Approximately 2 miles into the hike, it moved across the West face of Tahquitz with steep switchbacks leading all the way to the top.

One pleasant surprise was to find the Fire Lookout manned. They are all volunteers now, but they were very gracious and friendly to hikers. One gentleman showed us his map and where other fire lookouts had spotted lightning fires in the San Gorgonio Wilderness.

The weather drawback was that the spectacular views promised by a Tahquitz ascent were nowhere to be found. Someday, we will come back and bask in the view.

Overall, this was a slow day but I felt progress being made in my quest to do Whitney. If you wanted to know...I would say I am a 5 on the confidence scale today.

I plan to do Cowles Mountain on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday this week, with a date with Mt. San Jacinto on Sunday.