San Diego 100 Peaks ©

Late last year I stumbled across one of the best peaks list online.  Using this site, one can identify any list of peaks they wish to climb.  I live in San Diego, so I have opted to climb the top 100 peaks in the County.  This site helps me organize and plan my hikes, plus it puts me in touch with others who have already hiked it.  Once a member (it's free with an option to donate if you like the site), but once you're a member, you can "connect" with other members who to a soul have been very helpful with my questions.  And it's always fun to come across another hiker out on the trail and then start talking about Peakbaggers.  Check it out and enter my name to see what hikes I've posted.  http://www.peakbagger.com/

And the Journey Begins

Pacific Crest Trail, Mexican Border ©

October 25, 2011, Joel Hawk

And the Journey Begins…

I started a day hike along the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) with the intent to discover if I would commit to backpacking the entire length of the PCT (2650 miles or so).  The Southern Terminus is located just outside Campo, CA and is literally located on the border between the United States and Mexico.  A very cool and simple monument identifying the location brings joy to those who both reach it after beginning their journey from afar and to those who are excited about starting their journey anew.  Such is my story.

The weather was perfect for a day hike.  A very light drizzle throughout the night dampened the ground so the dust was held at bay.  Cool with continuing light drizzles and overcast clouds made for a particularly pleasant hike for the first few hours.  Properly prepared for a 20 miler, I set off along a new and unfamiliar trail.  Before even reaching the 2 mile marker, I saw tracks along the trail of deer, birds, squirrels, and other animals.  At mile 4.4, I crossed over a little creeklet running happily through the area.  The sound of a bubbling brook is always pleasing and soothing to the soul.  Just past this brook, I came upon a campsite in a small clearing.

Continuing along the trail and reaching mile 5.5, a covey of quail flew up right by my side scaring the living ba-jesus out of me.  I think I ran almost a quarter of a mile while standing in place and unfortunately did not making any progress along my journey.  Only fair I guess since I scared the quail first.  The covey looked like about 15 or so beautiful birds eager to get away from the big human.  With a heart pounding full of adrenaline, I started my first ascent along the trail.  Reaching the top of this first “hill” one could look back over the land and get an appreciation for the beauty our maker has provided; but more to come about that later.

As I walked along the trail, I was amazed at how well-maintained the trail was even at the end of the season.  Not sure why it’s classified as the end of the hiking season as it was really the perfect day/time of year for a good walk in Southern California.  I saw one set of footprints headed in the Southbound direction and wondered if they were the shoe prints of Scott Williamson who had just set the PCT record from Canada to Mexico a week before.  That’s a goal this old goat won’t be setting in this lifetime, but it was very interesting to have a connection with someone I had never met.

Without ever having embarked on an adventure of this sort alone, I really did not know what to expect.  With an open mind, away I went.  I guess it was part desire to connect with my inner self (selves – more on that later) and part desire to see some of our country I had never seen before.  That and I really needed to get some exercise led me to this decision.  With an ever watchful eye along the trail for the natural perils one could come upon, I continually looked at the marvels of the landscape we rarely take the time to see anymore.  Such beauty and only an hour away from where I’ve lived since the mid-90’s.  I felt sad that I never knew about this, but so happy to be enjoying it on this day.

As I continued along the trail and reaching about 7.5 miles I saw someone’s belongings strewn in the brush behind a large rock.  It appeared the clothing, sleeping bag and other belongings had been there for a few weeks, but it caused the imagination to start exploring what possibly could have happened.  It’s obvious to the quick and not-so-quick that someone had lost these belongings by some unkind act of man along the way.  It was also sad to see man-made materials discarded amongst the natural beauty of the land.  Still, this too caused an extra sense of awareness and vigilance as I continued through the hills on my way to Moreno Lake.  Not being able to pack these items out, I was forced to leave them there for the next time.

Without any speed agenda, I predicted I would average about 2.2 miles per hour.  This stated, I provided my fiancée,  Chris,  with my itinerary so there would be someone out there who knew the what and where I was supposed to be as a “just in case” event came up.  Without really keeping an eye on time, I traveled across the lands enjoying the quiet and occasionally seeing small animals.  In our busy lives of modern day, it’s difficult to remember quiet times.  I thought I was alone, but noticed there were several personalities inside talking amongst themselves.  I had a practical self; talking with a humorous self; talking with an adventurous self.  Let’s face it, just a few miles along this trail has caused me to start talking to myself and I really liked it!  In just these few short hours, I started forgetting about the daily pressures of our modern day life and started relating to my immediate surroundings.  Sometimes my mind explored the possible lives of those who walked here before me and lived here every day.  I was curious how they filled their day whether it was hunting or fishing or making the tools, clothes and shelter they needed to survive.  It’s quite humbling to think of the basic needs we as humans have and quite embarrassing to realize the almost worthless things we have accumulated and placed value on.  One finds peace in the hills and as I walked, I felt the stresses of my daily life fall away.  I started thinking of what it would have been like to have lived “back then” without having such abundance of food, water and shelter.  Yes, our lives today are filled with so many comforts that we forget to place value on the real things that matter.  But I digress…back to my hike.

Before long, I found myself at mile 15 and preparing to drop into a canyon at the bottom of Hauser Mountain and Morena Butte.  This part of the trail was the most “scary” for me as the trail had not been maintained as well as the rest of the trail.  The underbrush and grasses had grown over the trail and it was difficult to see if there were any animals of peril there.  So with a heightened sense of fear, I quickened my step as I descended into the canyon.  Although I really needed to put on my lower leggings, I wasn’t about to stop long enough to put them on.  As I rounded one switchback toward the bottom, I came upon a black ribbon snake.  The fact that I was moving rather quickly and still saw this little one footer gave me peace of mind that I would most likely see a rattler if one were along the trail; that is, if it were not hiding under the grasses/bushes.  I never saw one although I’ll bet there were a few close by that heard me tromping through on the trail.

As I reached Hauser Creek at the bottom, I suddenly lost the trail so came to a complete stop.  Off to the right I saw a little sign and not being able to read it from where I stood, I went off in that direction.  As I got close, my eyes widened as I saw what it said, “Poison Oak.”  I looked up and around me and the poison oak was all around, but some great soul saved me from getting into it.  Thank you kind sir or ma’am….about face and away I went.  About 25 yards away, I saw the PCT 4x4 that told me I was back on the trail again.  Thank you to all who spent your efforts and dollars in maintaining the trail and placing the signs along the way.  How the heck did Davy Crockett find his way back in the day????

This little adventure had my heart racing yet again so as I started up Morena Butte, I probably attacked it a little too aggressively.  I climbed and climbed and kept climbing.  Every time I looked up, I saw I needed to keep climbing.  My goodness that was a long, steep hill!  The sun had broken through the clouds over the last hour and was baking down on me.  I kept climbing and climbing.  Someone said they really didn’t like switchbacks; well, I guess I have to say I do.  Switchbacks reduce the steepness of the climb although they do increase the distance one must travel to get to the top. 

Finally, at the top of Morena Butte, one can look out over the canyon at Hauser Mountain and toward Barrett Reservoir (I didn’t even know there was a Barrett Reservoir).  Gorgeous and stunning and I felt so much better now knowing that I was on top of this thing.  So what’s the difference between a Butte and a Mountain?  Not much really and you can use the terms interchangeably.  But for a bit of explanation, a butte started off as a plain back in time and through continental shifts and erosion, mesas were formed.  From a mesa, buttes were formed.  GOOGLE is your friend.

At this point, with my knees shot from the steep descent off Hauser Mountain and immediate climb up Morena Butte, I only had 2.8 miles to go to reach Moreno Lake.  With plenty of water and enough time left without rushing to meet my ride, I strolled (hobbled) along.  At some point and I forgot to mark it, I entered into Cleveland National Forest.  The trail is still remarkably well-maintained and there are small animal tracks.  Not sure what the difference is between a coyote and a dog, but I’m almost certain there were coyote tracks on the trail.  Saw some signs of raccoon and rabbit.  It was so quiet out there on the trail.  A raven flew over my head about 8 feet or so and I was surprised I was able to hear the whoosh –whoosh-whoosh of air being moved by its wings.  I’m terribly hard of hearing – just ask Chris, so it was yet another nice moment to remember.

Then suddenly, I saw Lake Morena.  I didn’t realize there were two bodies of water.  Beautiful and a relief as my knees were tired of this adventure.  I wasn’t ready to quit, but my knees were going to need a break soon.  I continued my trek across the hills and finally reached Lake Morena County Park where I met up with Chris for my ride back into Campo.  I’ll always remember that wonderful day and man, that was a good, cold beer!!!

Be safe, enjoy living and appreciate our lands.   ~ Joel