True to my promise, I was up before the locals were stirring, looking forward to putting this road walk detour behind me. The only vehicles passing by were those of early morning commuters and a few school buses.
Boy, was I ever elated when I reached The Devil's Punch Bowl County Park, where the pavement ended and path with pinyon pines began. A ranger greeted me heartily and was happy to hear that he was looking at the first thru-hiker he'd seen since the Nobos came through this past spring/summer. He gave me a brief overview of the geology effecting the area, which was responsible for shaping it's unique features. It turns out that in addition to the San Andreas, there are two other faults running through this region. As a goodbye gift, he gave me a bottle of Gatorade while I was enjoying breakfast at a picnic table near the overlook. A great way to re-enter the wilderness--- with a full supply of electrolytes. It was with a great deal of joy in my heart that I started off once more. The sun was rising higher in a light blue sky and the prickly bushes and desert scrub had been replaced by splendid pines. I traced the contours of the slopes until I reached the waters of Big Creek's South Fork, where I proceeded to wend my way up its steep canyon walls towards Islip Saddle. It was there that the detour rejoined the Pacific Crest Trail, which provided ample reason for a short break and celebration, tossing a few extra gummy worms into my maw. The subsequent energy boost was going to be needed for the steady uphill climb into the San Gabriel mountains. As the trail gained in elevation, I could see that there was nothing but a sea of clouds to the south crashing against the length of the range, throwing up fingers of mist that swirled in the air before they disappeared. It was great to be above this inversion layer enjoying a very fine day. The ranger at Devil's Punch Bowl told me that Mount Baden Powell had got its first dusting of snow overnight and I must admit, as I walked up through the canyons that's the way it appeared. However, once I was actually there on the slopes, what I had taken for snow was actually a heavy coating of ice crystals on the branches of the trees that had been loosened by the warmth of the sun and fallen to the earth around the base of the trees. I witnessed this first hand while walking along the trail and was nearly hit by some of the falling ice as I walked beneath some tree limbs. Pushing ever higher, I made it to the top of Mount Baden Powell in time to see a brilliant sunset. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, a wind kicked up and the temperatures started to plummet. In the twilight, I raced down the switchbacks, wanting to get as low as possible before darkness enveloped me. Satisfied with my progress, I chose a spot near a couple of fallen logs to set up my cowboy camp, bushes on the right effectively blocking any wind. My hands were numb with cold, which made handling the zippers and undoing the clasps much more difficult. I crawled into my sleeping bag to warm myself up a bit before having dinner. I thought that it would be a frosty cold night, but it actually felt like the weather grew warmer the later it got. Perhaps it was just the effect of the down sleeping bag making things toasty, but then again, a warm front may have moved in.
Boy, was I ever elated when I reached The Devil's Punch Bowl County Park, where the pavement ended and path with pinyon pines began. A ranger greeted me heartily and was happy to hear that he was looking at the first thru-hiker he'd seen since the Nobos came through this past spring/summer. He gave me a brief overview of the geology effecting the area, which was responsible for shaping it's unique features. It turns out that in addition to the San Andreas, there are two other faults running through this region. As a goodbye gift, he gave me a bottle of Gatorade while I was enjoying breakfast at a picnic table near the overlook. A great way to re-enter the wilderness--- with a full supply of electrolytes. It was with a great deal of joy in my heart that I started off once more. The sun was rising higher in a light blue sky and the prickly bushes and desert scrub had been replaced by splendid pines. I traced the contours of the slopes until I reached the waters of Big Creek's South Fork, where I proceeded to wend my way up its steep canyon walls towards Islip Saddle. It was there that the detour rejoined the Pacific Crest Trail, which provided ample reason for a short break and celebration, tossing a few extra gummy worms into my maw. The subsequent energy boost was going to be needed for the steady uphill climb into the San Gabriel mountains. As the trail gained in elevation, I could see that there was nothing but a sea of clouds to the south crashing against the length of the range, throwing up fingers of mist that swirled in the air before they disappeared. It was great to be above this inversion layer enjoying a very fine day. The ranger at Devil's Punch Bowl told me that Mount Baden Powell had got its first dusting of snow overnight and I must admit, as I walked up through the canyons that's the way it appeared. However, once I was actually there on the slopes, what I had taken for snow was actually a heavy coating of ice crystals on the branches of the trees that had been loosened by the warmth of the sun and fallen to the earth around the base of the trees. I witnessed this first hand while walking along the trail and was nearly hit by some of the falling ice as I walked beneath some tree limbs. Pushing ever higher, I made it to the top of Mount Baden Powell in time to see a brilliant sunset. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, a wind kicked up and the temperatures started to plummet. In the twilight, I raced down the switchbacks, wanting to get as low as possible before darkness enveloped me. Satisfied with my progress, I chose a spot near a couple of fallen logs to set up my cowboy camp, bushes on the right effectively blocking any wind. My hands were numb with cold, which made handling the zippers and undoing the clasps much more difficult. I crawled into my sleeping bag to warm myself up a bit before having dinner. I thought that it would be a frosty cold night, but it actually felt like the weather grew warmer the later it got. Perhaps it was just the effect of the down sleeping bag making things toasty, but then again, a warm front may have moved in.The Devil's Punchbowl
The Slopes of Baden Powell
30 Miles
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