Camera-phone improvisation. The Canon is allegedly fixed and on the way back home though!Ahhhh, Sunday morning. A time for rest, relaxation, catching up on the wear and tear of the week, and beginning anew. A time to roll over, close your eyes, and go back to that nice dream you were having for a couple more hours.
This is what I was thinking as my pre-dawn alarm went off, beckoning me to get my ass up, shovel down some cereal, and hit the road. "I've had a good week, a productive week, a week of good training. I should just sleep in, enjoy some extra recovery. It will do me good." And I almost bought it. Almost. But it was Sunday, outdoor adventure day, and the thought of crisp, clean mountain air was just enough to roll me (literally) out of bed and into the kitchen. From there it was on!
Today's adventure took me to Icehouse Canyon, near Mt. Baldy in the San Gabriels. I hit the trail early because even though this trail is moderately strenuous, it's a beautiful and well-known wilderness area a mere hour from Downtown LA, so it attracts crowds. The parking lot was 2/3 full already when I arrived at 8am, if that provides any indication. Fortunately many of the hikers were interested only in the lower reaches of the trail, and by the time I made it a mile or two up, the crowd had dissipated a bit.
Today's round trip was 7.5 miles, to the Icehouse Saddle, and 5min additional up toward Timber Mountain. Elevation starts very close to 5000' and topped out around 7500'. The grade is pretty steady most of the way, so it's not a killer, but definitely not easy either. It took me 90 minutes up and 90 minutes back, largely because of some negotiation of hard packed, icy snow for the final 0.5-1 mile at the top end. My Achilles has been nagging me since a sprint workout on Wednesday, and at one point I almost turned back as it twinged in pain during a steep ascent.
What would happen if one tore their Achilles (or patellar) tendon several miles up a wilderness trail?
Bad news. That's all I can say.
At any rate, all was well. I took it slow toward the end of the uphill, and downhill was no problem. I'm definitely looking forward to my week of active rest though, having completed a six week training cycle! I took along my snowshoes today, partly in case I found any fun snowfields to play in, but mostly to test out my new snowshoe bag as a daypack. It worked great, although I need to custom engineer some sort of system to take weight off the shoulder straps and offload it to the hips. The snowshoes came in handy on the way back downhill. Hard packed, icy snow definitely is better suited to standard crampons, but the snowshoe crampons provided some much-appreciated grip.
Camera-phone II - among the trees enroute downhill
The trail itself was gorgeous, with a rushing stream, snowy vistas, chirping songbirds, and shady tree cover from the numerous pines and firs. Under sunny skies with temperatures in the 60s, the weather couldn't have been better. I really enjoyed this place. My only gripe is that I had to enjoy it with so many others, particularly those lacking basic trail etiquette. (e.g. there is a line of boy scouts moving at a pedestrian pace up the hill - move to the side and allow others to pass). On the other hand, humanity is always good for some sense of safety should an accident happen, and better yet, for entertainment value. Here are a few interesting and/or humorous observations from the day:
Approximately 70% of the people I saw today were Koreans, specifically older dudes and women who presumably were their wives. This is a shockingly disproportionate representation. What's the story? Is this some sort of Korean Mecca?
Speaking of Mecca, roughly 90% of the Koreans I saw (or 63% of the total hiking population) were wearing clothing that covered practically their entire face. Mind you this trail is largely tree covered - the sun wasn't really an issue. Is this some sort of Korean hajib? I don't get it. Somebody please explain it to me...
...and tell the old dudes they don't need walkie-talkies that are constantly buzzing in communication with their partners up the (well-maintained) trail. I finally broke down and asked one of these cats if they were training for a big expedition - like Everest - what with the walkie-talkies, satellite phone, and sherpas. Ok there weren't actually sherpas, and I'm not sure about the satellite phone. But one dude was blaring an opera out of a big set of speakers in his "daypack," which would have been suitable for a full-fledged Denali summit assault. No, just keeping in touch, he tells me.(shrug). Your knees, buddy.
Speaking of broken knees, what's up with übermeister running down the trail in his tight spandex shirt covered in sponsorship logos and blaring Lenny Kravitz in his ipod? Dude, nobody sponsors 40-year-old amateur trail runners. Let's be serious - you bought that shirt at Sport Chalet, do this once every third weekend, and will single-handedly keep the next generation of orthopaedic surgeons in business. But hey, at least you had the courtesy to keep your music to yourself (relatively).
...though this too can be problematic, when some dude is so absorbed in his Enya playlist that he doesn't notice the people behind him on the trail waiting for his pedestrian ass to get out of the way. Memo to the mountain lion community:
This is the slow, weak, stupid one in the herd. Eat him.
There were several nice mountain cabins along the way. One featured full-up Himalayan prayer flags all around it, and a booming serenade of Jimi Hendrix. Unique. The other was for sale, listed by "Century 21 Beachside." We're roughly 50 miles from the nearest beach.
A barking chihuahua puppy was at the Icehouse Saddle, posing for pictures with his masters. I consulted my biomechanics textbook, did a few back-of-the-envelope calculations, and concluded that this "dog" took approximately 300 bazillion jillion steps to get up the trail. Seriously. That's like taking your kid on a day hike across Eurasia. If he was big enough he'd bite your stupid ass.
But taking the cake...some idiot donning only running shorts and a pair of these:
This is what I was thinking as my pre-dawn alarm went off, beckoning me to get my ass up, shovel down some cereal, and hit the road. "I've had a good week, a productive week, a week of good training. I should just sleep in, enjoy some extra recovery. It will do me good." And I almost bought it. Almost. But it was Sunday, outdoor adventure day, and the thought of crisp, clean mountain air was just enough to roll me (literally) out of bed and into the kitchen. From there it was on!
Today's adventure took me to Icehouse Canyon, near Mt. Baldy in the San Gabriels. I hit the trail early because even though this trail is moderately strenuous, it's a beautiful and well-known wilderness area a mere hour from Downtown LA, so it attracts crowds. The parking lot was 2/3 full already when I arrived at 8am, if that provides any indication. Fortunately many of the hikers were interested only in the lower reaches of the trail, and by the time I made it a mile or two up, the crowd had dissipated a bit.
Today's round trip was 7.5 miles, to the Icehouse Saddle, and 5min additional up toward Timber Mountain. Elevation starts very close to 5000' and topped out around 7500'. The grade is pretty steady most of the way, so it's not a killer, but definitely not easy either. It took me 90 minutes up and 90 minutes back, largely because of some negotiation of hard packed, icy snow for the final 0.5-1 mile at the top end. My Achilles has been nagging me since a sprint workout on Wednesday, and at one point I almost turned back as it twinged in pain during a steep ascent.
What would happen if one tore their Achilles (or patellar) tendon several miles up a wilderness trail?
Bad news. That's all I can say.
At any rate, all was well. I took it slow toward the end of the uphill, and downhill was no problem. I'm definitely looking forward to my week of active rest though, having completed a six week training cycle! I took along my snowshoes today, partly in case I found any fun snowfields to play in, but mostly to test out my new snowshoe bag as a daypack. It worked great, although I need to custom engineer some sort of system to take weight off the shoulder straps and offload it to the hips. The snowshoes came in handy on the way back downhill. Hard packed, icy snow definitely is better suited to standard crampons, but the snowshoe crampons provided some much-appreciated grip.
Camera-phone II - among the trees enroute downhillThe trail itself was gorgeous, with a rushing stream, snowy vistas, chirping songbirds, and shady tree cover from the numerous pines and firs. Under sunny skies with temperatures in the 60s, the weather couldn't have been better. I really enjoyed this place. My only gripe is that I had to enjoy it with so many others, particularly those lacking basic trail etiquette. (e.g. there is a line of boy scouts moving at a pedestrian pace up the hill - move to the side and allow others to pass). On the other hand, humanity is always good for some sense of safety should an accident happen, and better yet, for entertainment value. Here are a few interesting and/or humorous observations from the day:
Approximately 70% of the people I saw today were Koreans, specifically older dudes and women who presumably were their wives. This is a shockingly disproportionate representation. What's the story? Is this some sort of Korean Mecca?
Speaking of Mecca, roughly 90% of the Koreans I saw (or 63% of the total hiking population) were wearing clothing that covered practically their entire face. Mind you this trail is largely tree covered - the sun wasn't really an issue. Is this some sort of Korean hajib? I don't get it. Somebody please explain it to me...
...and tell the old dudes they don't need walkie-talkies that are constantly buzzing in communication with their partners up the (well-maintained) trail. I finally broke down and asked one of these cats if they were training for a big expedition - like Everest - what with the walkie-talkies, satellite phone, and sherpas. Ok there weren't actually sherpas, and I'm not sure about the satellite phone. But one dude was blaring an opera out of a big set of speakers in his "daypack," which would have been suitable for a full-fledged Denali summit assault. No, just keeping in touch, he tells me.
Speaking of broken knees, what's up with übermeister running down the trail in his tight spandex shirt covered in sponsorship logos and blaring Lenny Kravitz in his ipod? Dude, nobody sponsors 40-year-old amateur trail runners. Let's be serious - you bought that shirt at Sport Chalet, do this once every third weekend, and will single-handedly keep the next generation of orthopaedic surgeons in business. But hey, at least you had the courtesy to keep your music to yourself (relatively).
...though this too can be problematic, when some dude is so absorbed in his Enya playlist that he doesn't notice the people behind him on the trail waiting for his pedestrian ass to get out of the way. Memo to the mountain lion community:
This is the slow, weak, stupid one in the herd. Eat him.
There were several nice mountain cabins along the way. One featured full-up Himalayan prayer flags all around it, and a booming serenade of Jimi Hendrix. Unique. The other was for sale, listed by "Century 21 Beachside." We're roughly 50 miles from the nearest beach.
A barking chihuahua puppy was at the Icehouse Saddle, posing for pictures with his masters. I consulted my biomechanics textbook, did a few back-of-the-envelope calculations, and concluded that this "dog" took approximately 300 bazillion jillion steps to get up the trail. Seriously. That's like taking your kid on a day hike across Eurasia. If he was big enough he'd bite your stupid ass.
But taking the cake...some idiot donning only running shorts and a pair of these:
...seen attempting (rather unsuccessfully I'll add) to climb up a steep, ice-covered slope. In case there's any ambiguity, despite Lieberman's recent Nature publication, the success of the book "Born to Run," the Nike Free, and associated *hoopla* (note: previous word has been edited to maintain PG rating) about barefoot running, I think it's B.S. But hey, (shrug). Your feet buddy.
Even amidst the crowd, my tried and true method of finding solitude worked once again. Walk another 5 minutes past where everybody else goes - take that little bit of extra effort - and you'll enjoy the spoils. I felt contentedly (if arrogantly) satisfied as I ate my lunch at the top, listened to the breeze, then took a nice little nap.
Aloha!
Even amidst the crowd, my tried and true method of finding solitude worked once again. Walk another 5 minutes past where everybody else goes - take that little bit of extra effort - and you'll enjoy the spoils. I felt contentedly (if arrogantly) satisfied as I ate my lunch at the top, listened to the breeze, then took a nice little nap.
Aloha!
Dude, this was a hilarious post! People are definitely entertaining.
ReplyDeleteAnd don't knock the vibrams. I have a pair, and they are great to walk around in, and do the occasional beach run.
Glad you enjoyed it buddy. I wouldn't clown the Vibrams altogether, but in this context (where crampons are needed) they were pretty clearly inadequate.
ReplyDeleteWhen hiking in Hawai`i on amphibious trails, I found that a strapped sandal (e.g. Nike Deschutz) was an outstanding option versus normal hiking shoes. No hesitation needed when crossing streams, etc. I could see the Vibrams being good in that situation as well, though I still maintain that the air cushioning of the Nikes is a fundamentally superior technology to anything out there.
I wear a Merrell Moab Ventilator and have been very happy with it for anything from day hiking to multiday to snowshoeing. It also has an air sole, though I don't think it's as good as a Nike. Better all around outdoor shoe than anything Nike offers though. Traction questionable at times on loose trails.