San Diego Cleanout
San Diego County
Leaders: Mars Bonfire, Sandy Burnside, Byron Prinzmetal,
Carleton Shay, and George Wysup
October 19 through October 22, 2001
The San Diego County Cleanout -- a feast of hikes, scheduled and
private, replete with a varying cast of leaders and participants.
Besides the leaders (Mars, Sandy, Byron, Carleton, and George),
attendees included Dave Comerzan, Brent Crookham, Janet Howell, Brian
Leverich, Karen Leverich, Lynn Nebus, Ingeborg Prochazka, Sheldon
Slack, Joe Whyte, and Ron Zappen. It'd make my head spin to tell you
which hikers were on which hikes, so ... I won't. And I can't tell
you about the hikes I wasn't on (often there were more than one
simultaneous hike in process). Here are my very personal impressions
from a wonderful weekend:
Um, it was great! I loved it! Four solid days of hiking, eleven new
peaks, fourteen peaks in all, bliss! Can we do this again sometime
soon? How about a southern Sierra cleanout?
Not wanting to leave in the pre-dawn of Friday and battle traffic all
across Los Angeles, Brian and I had booked a motel room near Julian
from Thursday night on, and I drove us down (occasionally over the
speed limit, tsk!) that evening. Imagine my dismay when we arrived at
the motel and I went to check us in, only to discover that oops!, I
had no wallet! No cash, no ID, no credit cards, no nothing. Luckily,
Brian was along, and he was better organized (isn't he always?), so he
got to take care of all that.
The first hike on Friday was Sandy's provisional lead of Oakzanita.
10AM, we didn't even have to get up early! But bad news straight out
of the gate -- Brian wasn't feeling well. He ended up spending the
first two days of the trip mildly sick in the motel room. (Don't feel
too sorry for him: when all the dust settled, he still got eight new
peaks, plus the fact that he missed some of the first peaks gave Mars
and I a wonderful excuse to do some of them twice once Brian got to
feeling better.)
Sandy of course led us up Oakzanita brilliantly, not getting rattled
at all by the mild hazing we subjected her to. ("Can I bring my dog?
Are we there yet? Nobody warned me this would be uphill!") This is a
pleasant hike, initially up a road, but then switchbacking up an
oak-shaded slope to a scenic meadow in a saddle, then more switchbacks
to a rocky summit with the usual world-class views one gets on most
HPS peaks. We applauded Sandy for not getting us lost, a feat she
managed to replicate on the way back down.
We didn't waste too much time on congratulating her, however. So many
peaks, so little time! Many of the group headed up the highway and
into Rancho Cuyamaca State Park, with the goal of hiking to Middle
Peak and Cuyamaca Peak. Given the size of our group, Mars checked to
see if hiking cross-country was OK. Uh, no, not recommended. But
given the rich network of trails in this park, not really a problem.
He bought a park map, then conferred with Byron and George to work out
the best strategy for getting our peaks while staying (mostly) on
trail.
What a beautiful place this park is! I have never seen such a varied
forest: oaks, firs, pines, cedars, alders, ashes, sycamores,
cottonwoods, and willows. Not to mention manzanita, chamise, and
azaleas. (I saw at least one perfect specimen along the aptly named
Azalea Glen Trail.)
In mid-October, the leaves are starting to change, the temperatures
are balmy. A perfect time to hike! We meandered up one trail and
along another, stopping to confer from time to time (the terrain and
the map didn't agree with each other to quite the degree one might
have hoped) before eventually arriving at the saddle between Cuyamaca
and Middle. Here we briefly bumped into Ron Zappen, descending Middle
by a trail on its east flank. Just to be contrary (or perhaps because
Byron recalled the east fork to be rocky, while George recalled the
west fork to be less so), we headed up a pleasant trail on the western
side of the peak, across a meadow and then through an oak wood,
eventually leaving the trail to work cross country (don't tell the
rangers!) to the peak. No register, but an elaborate rock cairn
assured us we had found the place.
Ingeborg was feeling a bit tired (she was recovering from a cold,
perhaps the same cold that was confining Brian to the motel), so in
order to minimize the amount of tiring cross-country, we headed down
to the east, and caught the rocky (not very) eastern flank trail, and
returned to the saddle. Byron and Ingeborg checked out and headed
back for the parking lot. The rest of us (me, Mars, George, Brent and
Sheldon), realizing we were running out of daylight (not necessarily a
bad thing, more on that in a moment), stepped up the pace and headed
up a rocky steep gully, or was it a trail?, towards Cuyamaca Peak,
emerging eventually on an asphalt road that took us the last few
hundred feet to the top.
Mars and I still wanted to do Stonewall, even though it looked like
we'd have to do the whole hike by headlamp. Brent's first reaction to
this proposal was negative -- surely no one besides a crazed peak
bagger would want to do a peak totally in darkness. What would be the
point? You wouldn't be able to see a thing! Though maybe there's a
crazed peak bagger in all of us, just yearning to be free: in the end,
Brent decided to join us.
But first, a little fun. The "hike" from Cuyamaca Peak to the parking
area is mainly a long downhill on an asphalt road. "How comfortable
are you on asphalt?" Mars asked me, before taking off downhill at
almost a run. Nothing for it but to try to keep up. Hey, wait a
minute, this is fun! (Why do I suspect Mars already knew that?)
Although it was supposedly between two and three miles back, we did it
in almost no time at all. Then milled around in the parking lot
chatting with Joe Whyte, while waiting for the sluggo group (Brent,
George, and Sheldon) to catch up. Quite a role reversal, that!
The final hike that first day was pure magic. It was already dusk
when Mars, Brent, and I donned our headlamps and headed across the
highway to the Stonewall Peak trailhead. The ranger warned us that a
cougar had been spotted there recently, which made me a tad nervous (I
was last in the column, so presumably the probable cat food if there
were to be an encounter). A forest in the dark is a very different
place from one in the light, there was both a mystery and beauty as
our limited lights briefly revealed rocks, trees, shrubs, fences (the
trail is randomly fenced, according to a pattern we failed to discern
but speculated about both on this hike and a later one in full
daylight).
There are an astonishing number of switchbacks involved for such a
modest peak (only 900' gain), perhaps more than one finds ascending
San Gorgonio. Towards the top, they get tighter, rockier, and
steeper, ending eventually in rock steps and then a rocky ramp
protected by a handrail. We shined our lights over the handrail, and
were immediately grateful for its presence -- we couldn't be sure, but
that looked like a long ways straight down!
I think we might have remained on the summit all night, it was so
lovely -- the stars, the views of the lights below and the distant
mountains, the quiet of the night -- but eventually we got to feeling
guilty about Brian cooped up in the motel room. I'd warned him I'd be
late, but this late? And maybe we were a little concerned about
finding our respective suppers, since the restaurants would presumably
be closing soon. With regret, we slowly hiked out, our first day of
hiking at an end.
Friday's hikes had been south of Julian, in the forest. Saturday's
hikes would take us north, into a dryer more rugged terrain. Our
first peak was San Ysidro Mountain, which from the Climbing Guide
sounds like a long difficult hike. In the event, it wasn't =easy=,
but because of a dirt road known to Byron and Mars (a road not for
those at all timid about their clearance or suspension!), we were able
to drive right up to the base of the peak, and only (only!) had to
ascend it.
The way they usually do this, you head up the gully, take the right
branch, then when that branch gets too brushy, head up the slope,
opportunistically selecting relatively brush-free passages through the
brush. But Mars had had a report that taking the =left= branch led
easily up to a saddle on the west side of the peak, and from there one
could easily work up the ridge to the summit. Always curious to
explore new routes, we opted to do that. And sure enough, the left
branch did indeed easily lead us up to the western saddle, which was
promisingly higher in altitude than the eastern one.
A small problem, though -- the ridge between us and the peak didn't
immediately bring the word "easy" to mind. Free associating, I'd be
more likely to come up with "brushy", or "rocky", or "scary", or even
"impossible", or... But of course I've already learned on HPS hikes
that something that looks impossible from a distance (Owens and
Jenkins leap to mind) isn't necessarily so when you're actually
working your way up a foot or so at a time. So onwards and upwards we
went. This time, however, no miracle occurred. The brush stayed
brushy, the rock challenges became, if anything, more challenging, and
eventually Byron lobbied for sidehilling around the south face to
reach the more traditional route up. We worried that even that would
prove brushy and difficult, but instead the mountain almost
immediately rewarded us for choosing well -- the transit of the south
face to the once-ducked route (the ducks having seemingly migrated
elsewhere for the winter?) was quickly and easily done, as was the
scramble to the summit. We'd done it, hurrah!
The descent to the gully (the right branch, which we'd not taken,
rather than the left) was quickly accomplished. Gee, it's a lot
easier to go down a scree slope than up, and more fun! We'd've been
back to the cars in no time at all, except our leaders were briefly
tempted by some intriguing boulders on the way out, and gave us a
short rock climbing demo.
After a brief stop in Warner Springs to refuel and buy a convenience
store lunch (trail bars were getting pretty old already), we headed up
Chihuahua Valley Road towards Combs Peak. I think this must have been
our reward for having survived San Ysidro -- a very pleasant walk
along the Pacific Crest Trail first through chaparral and then through
forest, eventually heading up a good use trail to the summit.
There had been a vague plan to collect Brian (who at last was feeling
human again, hurrah!) upon our return to Julian, to do Oakzanita and
Stonewall as dessert of sorts after a fine day of hiking. But he
decided he'd prefer to take it easy a bit longer, so instead we dined
out with Byron in a nice restaurant. What a tough weekend this was
proving to be, huh?
Sunday found us south of Julian again, this time with Brian along.
Brian and I already have Lizard Head and Dragon's Head, so of course
wanted to finish our cleanout of "-head" peaks by doing Sheephead
Mountain. Neither this peak nor the other one scheduled for the day
(Cuyapaipe) sound very difficult from their statistics (Sheephead is
listed as 3.5 miles, 700' gain plus 100' on the return), but the
approaches are through dense chaparral on good but difficult to find
use trails. You don't find the use trail, you probably don't get the
peak. So we were gratified to have the opportunity to do these peaks
with Byron, Carleton, and Mars.
Although there are, um, private property issues on the approaches to
both peaks, we luckily weren't confronted by anyone angry (or even
concerned or interested) about our presence. Both mountains had
excellent use trails, well trimmed, leading through brush that would
otherwise have been impenetrable. There were a few rocky challenges
that barely slowed the group.
Atop Sheephead:
Arriving at Cuyapaipe:
On Cuyapaipe, we had a leisurely lunch, enjoying the views and the
company, mildly worried about Brent: we'd seen his truck at the
trailhead, where he'd intended to meet us, but he'd apparently become
bored waiting for us and attempted the peak on his own. Where was he?
Not on the peak, for sure, so presumably out wandering through the
brush. We were glad to find his truck gone when we got back,
interpreting its absence to mean he'd survived, given up, gone back to
town. Hopefully he'd not gotten lost in the brush, and had his truck
stolen to boot. (I've seen him since, and yes, discouraged by the
brush was indeed the true explanation, not to worry.)
It was still somewhat early in the day, we all still had plenty of
energy, what to do, what to do? Well, =obviously=, another peak or
two! After some dithering, we ended up aimed at Monument Peak #1.
Rather than heading cross country to hook up with the PCT, Byron and
Mars knew a nice trail, Big Laguna Trail, that leads straight to it.
It's an easy to follow trail through a pleasant oak wood, as is the
PCT itself, and in no time, we were heading up the use trail and then
the road to the somewhat less than scenic (though of course view-rich)
summit of Monument Peak.
Brian and Mars had a slow ascent, discussing the purposes of the
various electronic and communications buildings, antennae, and
equipment that decorated Monument and numerous neighboring peaks.
Although the sign warning us of the potential dangers of being too
close to all stuff on the summit caused us some concern,
we still lingered for a bit, identifying neighboring peaks and simply
being at one with being atop another peak.
Looking speculatively at the sun and our watches, it seemed just
possible that we could fit in a climb of Oakzanita before calling it a
day -- both Brian and Sheldon had missed Sandy's provisional lead on
Friday, and both Mars and I seem to be sufficiently nutty about this
hiking stuff that we were more than happy to do it again, especially
(especially!) because it was sufficiently late that we'd probably
have to come out by headlamp.
Of all the hikes I did over this weekend, I think this second trip up
Oakzanita was the most perfect. I'd suggested to Byron and Mars once
upon a time that at least for me, the most appealing way to do a
nighttime hike would be to go up to the peak just before sunset,
taking in the views in daylight, getting a feel for the route; then to
stay on the peak and enjoy the sunset; and finally to come out in the
dark savoring the stars. Well, that's exactly how we did Oakzanita.
And the sunset, oh, I've never seen such a sunset!
Everyone, lobby for more hikes like this! You don't know what you're
missing, hiking only in daylight!
And then ... our final day! Was it all to be over so soon? Well, not
quite, we'd have time for more hiking first. Because I'd done
Stonewall entirely in the dark, and because Ingeborg, Sheldon, and
Brian had missed it entirely, we started out Monday by doing Stonewall
by daylight. A nice contrast to doing it by headlamp! Now I could
savor the forest,
and see the dropoff that railing had protected me from,
though by the time we'd been up and down, we were still no closer to
an explanation for the mysterious fences. Too much money in the fence
building budget? Imponderable.
The group atop Stonewall:
Next stops were Garnet Peak and Mountain, the first almost a hop skip
and jump through the chaparral to a windy summit, apparently popular
with hang gliders though we saw none that day.
Garnet Mountain was a slightly longer hike, first through a wood, then
across the PCT and up a fun rocky summit.
Ingeborg and Sheldon left us at this point, and Brian, Mars and I
scooted north to Warner Springs to rendezvous with Janet. She and
Brian had missed the climb of San Ysidro, and Mars and I were wanting
to redo it, following the right gully instead of the left.
The gully from above:
I'd expected our Return to San Ysidro to be a simple hike, compared to
that first exploratory visit via the left gully, but to be honest,
it's not =that= much easier doing it right. It seemed somehow steeper
and more scree-y, and we still waded through more brush than I'd
prefer, though there was less challenging rock.
Mars on the summit:
Janet and Karen nearby:
All good times must come to an end. Eventually, we were back at the
cars, saying our good-byes, wishing the weekend could have gone on for
another day or two. Those of you who weren't there, you really missed
out! If they do this again next October, my firm recommendation is
that you organize your schedule around it, and come! Beautiful peaks,
wonderful hikes, good food, San Diego County has a lot to recommend
it. Even if (for some of us, anyhow) it's a looooooooong ways away!