Moonset

I saw my first moonset this past Monday.  Since I’ve started hiking regularly I’ve noticed the moon more often in the daytime sky.  While I understand that the earth revolves around the sun and the moon revolves around the earth, I still haven’t invested the time to understand when I should be able to see the moon during the day.  So, seeing the moon during the day is still an unexpected treat for me.

As I started making my way up the Register Ridge trail, I saw the moon and took pictures similar to ones I’ve taken in the past.

The moon high above ridge line

It didn’t take long for me to realize that this moon sighting was going to be special.  The path of the moon was downward and it looked like it might get low enough to appear like the moon was resting on the mountain.

The moon starting to set

The moon was starting to set above one of my favorite parts of the Mt. Baldy Trail which I find exhilarating to walk on.  So, I watched the moon set while thinking about what it feels like to walk in the area it was appearing to come down upon.

Mt. Baldy Trail where the moon was appearing to set upon.

Being a half moon, it was interesting to see it just above the ridge line with a sliver of blue between the moon and the ridge.

Just above the ridge

When the moon began to go below the ridge line it looked a lot like a dome.

The moon’s dome like appearance just before dropping below the ridge.

Why I love hiking

I’m going through a few hundred photos I’ve taken of the Baldy Bowl trail over several different hikes for a future post.  Looking through them I started thinking about why I love hiking so much.  Essentially, I love hiking because it is a multi-dimensional undertaking.  Unlike working out in a gym where exercise is essentially the whole story, the exercise component to make it from one point to the next in hiking is just the beginning.  Weather plays an important role and can change significantly—even on a day hike.  Topography is seldom uniform for long and often provides mini-challenges in order to traverse.  Trail conditions may vary with the trail becoming more or less easy to follow.  Along the trail, changing views constantly provide differing perspectives from one point to the next. Personal exploration and discovery can become inherent aspects of hiking simply by going on different trails.  Creatures come and go making it important to at least learn about the ones that are dangerous to humans.  Most any long trek will pass through different vegetation that similarly requires some minimal knowledge of in order to avoid things like itchy rashes.  Fortunately however, most creatures and vegetation are harmless to humans and can simply be enjoyed.  With so many aspects to hiking, there are a seemingly endless number of opportunities to learn about the natural world that is available to hike through as well as the skills and gear required to do so.

Timing and the relationships between the different aspects of hiking offer another level of enjoyment.  Often, something catches my eye and I invest some time taking it in.  For example, last year while hiking down the Baldy Bowl Trail, I spotted a tree I liked and decided to photograph it.  It stood relatively alone in the landscape and offered an opportunity to photograph it in it’s entirely unobstructed as an object with a distant view beyond.

Trying to photograph it, I couldn’t get the exact view that caused me to notice it as the sun was getting in the way (polarized sun glasses making the glare significantly less than what the camera would deal with).  So, I got interested in the relationship between the sun and the tree.  I walked to a spot where the tree provided shade allowing me to take a photo with the tree “eclipsing” the view of the sun generating a dark silhouette against the bright blue sky.  Luckily small patches of clouds also happened to be in the sky adding some content to the view.  This is clearly a photo of the moment.  While the tree will most likely still be there for the rest of my life, it’s doubtful I’ll ever show up again at the right time to have this scene appear the same way.  Hiking always has delicious moments like this where nature is aligned in special ways waiting to be noticed.

After focusing on “eclipsing” the sun and capturing the tree in silhouette, I decided to pay attention to the color and height of the tree and how it looked when more colorfully set against the sky.

Later, I admired the weathering of the tree as well as its colors, texture, and imperfections (including what appear to be woodpecker holes).

Finally, I found myself leaning against the tree looking at the shadow it cast in the landscape.

While I certainly got some great exercise hiking to Mt. Baldy that day (losing some blubber in the process), it was the numerous delicious moments and overall spectacular beauty of nature that I remember.  It is being able to interact with nature viewing it at different scales from the smallest details to the grandest views that I truly cherish.  I find the multifaceted aspects of hiking to be wonderfully indulgent.  Nature beckons me to return to it in exciting ways that the “nose to the grindstone” gym experience never could.

Dawson Saddle to Mt. Baden-Powell

Last Saturday I hiked with my family from Dawson Saddle to Mt. Baden-Powell.  This is the easiest way to get to Mt. Baden-Powell.  Although the trail is about 3/4 of a mile longer than  the trail leading up from Vincent Gap, it has over 600′ less gain.  There are spectacular views and nice varieties of terrain along both the Dawson Saddle Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail leading to Mt. Baden-Powell.  I’ve hiked these trails numerous times and the photos below are from a variety of hikes at different time during the year.

View toward desert from Dawson Saddle Trail

View toward Mt. Wilson from the Dawson Saddle Trail

Dawson Saddle Trail

View from winter snowshoeing trek on the Dawson Saddle Trail

The 2.5 mile portion along the Pacific Crest Trail is among my favorite stretches of trail in the forest and definitely the easiest to reach among my favorites.  In addition to the stellar views out to the desert looking north or towards the ocean looking south from over 8700′ in elevation; the views of the trail itself and it’s immediate surroundings are equally magnificent.

View toward the ocean along the Pacific Crest Trail

View out to the desert from the Pacific Crest Trail

Trees coming out of the rock, far enough apart and small enough to intimately stand out as sculptures are among the many close up treasures along the Pacific Crest Trail.

Hiking along the ridge, there is always a distant view out.  However, there are also numerous places where the view in one direction is temporarily blocked by a protrusion standing out like a small building in the landscape.

Small protrusion standing out along the ridge of the Pacific Crest Trail.

At other times the trek is right on top of the ridge with unobstructed views right and left.

Hiking the ridge with the mountain falling equally on both sides of the trail.

There are also many times where there is a long view down the ridge line.

View down the ridge toward Mt. Burnham along the Pacific Crest Trail.

The 1500 year old “Wally Waldron Tree” marks the trail leading to the summit.

Wally Waldron Tree

At 9399′ in elevation, the views from Mt. Baden-Powell are exceptional.  My favorite is the view toward Mt. Baldy.

View toward Mt. Baldy from Mt. Baden-Powell

 

A Gorgeous Icy Cold Snap on Saturday’s Hike to Mt. Islip

Last Saturday, the view of large patches of interesting cloud patterns in an otherwise blue sky along the 210 freeway heading toward Angeles Crest Highway already indicated the possibility that our hike to Mt. Islip would be weather enhanced.  By the time we (family and friends) passed Cloudburst Summit we were driving in and out of the clouds we saw rolling in from below.  From the trailhead at Islip Saddle the temperature gauge on the car dashboard read 36 degrees F.  At that point I knew we were in for a treat.

It didn’t take long hiking up the Pacific Crest Trail heading to Windy Gap to find ourselves walking into the cloudy mist.

About to enter the cloudy mist along the Pacific Crest Trail

At first the mist wasn’t as moist or dense as I thought it would be as I headed into it.  Prior to reaching Little Jimmy Campground, I met a PCT thru-hiker (trail name Viper) who mentioned his water froze overnight.  While I felt a little bad for Viper enduring such an unexpected cold snap this time of year, I found myself hopeful that something interesting would be lurking up above.

Light cloudy mist along the Pacific Crest Trail before reaching Little Jimmy.

Typically I really enjoy the trek along the Islip Ridge Trail with excellent views into the Crystal Lake Basin.  However, the weather made this stretch of our hike even more magnificent. By the time we had reached above 7600′ there was more moisture in the air, it felt colder, and ice had formed in the trees (but not on the ground).

Ice in the pine needles

The increased cloud density made depth perception more prominent than usual and the dead trees took on a more delineated character with ice clinging to their branches.

Ice clinging to the branches of dead trees standing out in the grey mist.

At times there was so much ice in the trees it looked like it snowed.

Icy Trees

But the ice that fell to the ground proved that it didn’t actually snow.

Ice on the ground that fell beneath the trees.

Near the summit the sun broke through the clouds.

The sun breaking through the clouds with little patches of blue sky and icy trees.

Above 8100′ we passed through the clouds yielding a dramatic view of ice covered trees against the blue sky–especially colorful after trekking through the grey mist for some time.

The view looking up to the sky as we passed above the clouds that continued to flow around the mountain below the summit.

View of the clouds coming in from the south and making their way around the summit of Mt. Islip

View from Mt. Islip looking toward the Mojave Desert as the clouds flowed around Mt. Islip and broke up into smaller formations as they made their way north.

View walking down through the clouds on the Islip Ridge Trail

Instead of returning to Windy Gap, we took the Mt. Islip Trail down to Little Jimmy and found ourselves in an area free from the clouds as they flowed over Windy Gap and Islip Saddle breaking up as they continued moving north.

View along the Mt. Islip Trail connecting the Islip Ridge Trail and Little Jimmy.

As we made it back down the Pacific Crest Trail we found ourselves in the sun most of the way with great views of the Mojave Desert.  Looking down the trail however, we saw clouds making their way over Islip Saddle.

View heading down the Pacific Crest Trail looking toward Islip Saddle

At Islip Saddle we found ourselves walking through the cloudy mist one more time before making it to our cars.  Along the drive home we passed in and out of the clouds driving down Angeles Crest Highway until we passed Cloudburst Summit once again returning below the clouds until we engage in another trip like this.

View from the Pacific Crest Trail as we are about to enter the clouds one last time before making it to our cars.

Hiking Into The Clouds

Hikes with significant elevation gain guarantee a diversity of landscape to trek through.  Obviously this is due to the micro-climates created largely by the difference in altitude that one moves through on the way to the high point of the journey.  While the amount and character of the diversity is clearly tied to numerous other factors, meaningful differences are assured.  Having taken several Environmental Science courses in college, none of that surprised me.  I find experiencing this diversity to be wonderful and the specific details naturally have unforeseen aspects to them. Of course, prior to beginning my weekly hikes in 2011, I wasn’t aware of the what was in Angeles Forest, or things like how high the mountains reach–which is why I started this blog. However, the overall idea wasn’t new for me.  The first time I planned a hike with over 2,000 feet of gain, I new I would see diversity. 

Unexpected for me was my personal discovery (countless others have known this long ago) that at certain times these differences being so close together become more magnified than seen on a typical day.  Weather , for example, will impact these areas differently creating interesting edge conditions and small areas of dramatic difference that can be experienced on a day hike.  I first came to this understanding unintentionally on a hike from the Cobb Estate to Mt. Lowe in February 2011.

Starting at the Cobb Estate, the ground was dry and it was a little cloudy.  The clouds were pretty high though and while hiking up the Lower Sam Merrill Trail it was easy to see Downtown Los Angeles and the ocean off in the distance.  The weather report showed zero percent chance of rain, and the clouds high above the mountain didn’t appear threatening or reachable.  At Echo Mountain (about 1400′ of gain up from the Cobb Estate), Inspiration Point–another 1300′ in elevation was visible.  This was pretty typical so far and I didn’t take any pictures.  At Inspiration Point, the view out was still great, but the view up Mt. Lowe was blocked by clouds.  Before making it to the summit, I found myself in snow, literally in the clouds, and feeling an ultra light mist.

At the Summit, I thought about how the mist felt like walking in fog along the ocean.  However, walking up into the clouds and snow from the city below made the overall experience different.  Less than 500 feet lower down the mountain, the city below was still in sunlight, the trail had no snow and one could see as far off as the ocean.  While it did take hiking over 3,000 feet of gain to reach the clouds, the idea that they were reachable from below was exhilarating.  Never before had such an obstructed view been so appealing to me.

Being in the clouds and not being able to see out naturally caused me to focus more on what was immediately around me.  I saw many interesting things I hadn’t paid much attention to in the past because I was so blown away by the view outward.  For example, I found the composition of some rocks and vegetation to be very beautiful standing out against the grey background.

That experience taught me to pay more attention to what I’m trekking through on future hikes and to stop more often and take some pictures of interesting details along the way.  On a later hike, I searched out the same composition and photographed it with the view of Mt. Wilson in the background.

On the way down the mountain along the East Mt. Lowe Trail, the clouds were significantly lower.  The mist started to feel a little stronger and I started to wonder if it was going to rain and if the sun was still shinning down on the city below.

At about 1000 feet lower than the clouds were on my ascent, I broke through them along the Middle Sam Merrill Trail.  It took about 5 minutes to move through the edge condition between being in the clouds and not.  After walking through the cloudy grey for hours, I now had a view of both the grey fuzzy edge of those clouds and out to the sunlit mountainside across the canyon.

As I made my way downward, the shadowy view of Echo Mountain emerged with the sunlit view of the city beyond.  As I stood and took in that view, I’d look back up the mountain to see the view of the mountain top blocked by the clouds.  Then I’d look out and see that the cloud cover went out into the distance about as far as Downtown Los Angeles.  The light was making it to the lower part of these mountains due to the low angle of the sun.. The cloud cover then felt like nature’s grand cantilevered roof jutting out from the mountain top.

On another hike in early March 2011 up the Mt. Lowe Railway Trail, I found patches of snow on the trail and Mt. Lowe in view below the clouds.

By the time I made it to the north side of Mt. Lowe along the Upper Sam Merrill Trail, I was ankle deep in snow and close to the clouds.  Markham Saddle was still visible, but San Gabriel Peak and Mt. Markham were in the clouds.  At that point, I knew Mt. Lowe would be in the clouds too.

In late March 2011 on a hike on the Sam Merrill Trail  to Inspiration Point, the clouds were low and not much higher than Echo Mountain.

Uniquely, the most interesting view for me that day was of Inspiration Point through the cloud mist instead of out from it to the city below.

In April 2011, I again hiked up to Mt. Lowe via the Sam Merrill Trail.  Along the upper Sam Merrill Trail, I got interested in how the clouds helped emphasize depth and made some tree branches look further away than they do in sunlight.

This time after I made my way back down below the clouds I looked up to see the sun shine through the clouds.  The thin layer of clouds blocking a direct view of the sun and muting it’s light made the sun easier to see as a light bulb is when viewed through a lamp shade.  Not wanting to hurt my eyes by staring at it, I looked at it through my camera lens and took many pictures like the one below that look a little like an abstract painting.

I found the color of the sunset when viewed after so many hours in the grey of the clouds to be even more beautiful–especially as the darkness of the clouds were also in view.

Seeing the sun descending through the clouds and it’s light now able to shine directly onto the landscape I was hiking on caused me to spend more time contemplating my own experience being able to see out into the distance once I had descended through the clouds.  I stopped for a while to enjoy the moment.

I was almost down the mountain when the sun was setting behind the mountains beyond. Even when it was out of my sight for the day, the indirect light in the sky lit my way and allowed me to see further into the landscape than I was able to do while in the clouds during the afternoon.  I found the juxtaposition of experiences while hiking during a single day to be wonderful.

On a hike along the San Gabriel Peak Trail to San Gabriel Peak in December 2011, I found myself above the clouds with a view I’ve only seen from an airplane.  The opportunity to walk through them was there, I just didn’t have the time that day.  Now that I know it’s possible, walking through the clouds is high on my list of experiences to seek out.

I now see the mountains and the clouds differently.  When I’m in the city, I look up to see how high the clouds are up the mountain.  Could there be an interesting opportunity to interact with them–walk into them, above them, or through them?