Hiking in Paradise: Okolehau Trail

Although Kaua'i is a popular hiking destination with many well-documented trails, somehow this short and very scenic trek on the North Shore was left off of all the hiking books I came across so far. The nice thing about Okole'hau Trail is that it is very easy to get to and a breeze to accomplish between lunch and dinner. It is also fun because of its steepness as opposed to the long, muddy drag, such as the Powerline Trail.

The trailhead is located at a well-marked, little foot bridge. To get there, one must take O'hiki Road that turns off to the taro fields from Kuhio Highway's crossing of the Hanale'i River by the famous oneway bridge. Parking is off to the side—and as anywhere in islands—done at the owner's best judgment. Rentals are certainly a clear target, but considering that the North Shore of Kaua'i has already been mostly ethnically cleansed, cars here are a lot less prone to beak-ins than places like Ana'hola.

The trail needs good hiking shoes, probably trekking poles, water and camera. A light waterproof windbreaker can also be useful; it rains often at the trail and is rather windy at the higher elevations. The approximately 2.5 miles path runs straight up to about 1250' on the ridge of the mountain. Because the starting elevation is in the humid and densely forested Hanale'i River Valley, mosquitoes demonstrate a diligent effort to get their meals out of any and all trespassers. If bug spray is not the hiker's favorite chemical, a brisk walk will get him/her to a comfortably high elevation and away from the bloodsuckers within ten minutes.

The rest of the trail climbs steeply along the ridge and offers absolutely magnificent views at times to the Valley (where Puff, the magic dragon lives), at other times to the Bay. Short bursts of showers occasionally pass over the range, making the path quite slippery. The rest of the way quickly makes it to a plateau for more views of ocean, mountains, rain and rainbows. Oh, Kaua'i!

Return is the same way down.

Into the Heart of Wilderness: Hiking to Big Horn Sheep Country

Initially, I felt hesitant writing about the series of three hikes where I attempted to reach Fish Fork Campgrounds -- because I never found them -- but, perhaps my note could still serve as an aid to anyone trying to a find the place in the future. The fact that I no longer reside in the States will inhibit my further endeavors, so I have to register these attempts as my best efforts.

A note on this trek: (1)this hike is relatively long, isolated and quite poorly marked. (2)Water is only available on three occasions, unless there is still snow on the ground. (3)As the name suggests the place is Big Horn country, so mountain lions are probably also around. While there, several times I had distinct sense of being watched and my normally calm dog was also positively spooked. Hiking alone for the outlined reasons is probably not recommended.

There are two other ways to reach Fish Fork, hiking up through the East Fork of the San Gabriel River from Chrystal Lake or from Mt. Waterman. This blog offers a trek description from Manker Flats through Baldy. Because of the length and elevation variations, this hike is best attempted after the snow completely melted from the peaks but before the hottest summer months, giving a relatively short window for the ideal conditions. During my first attempt on May 6, '08, there were only few spots of snow on San Antonio Peak. At the same time the north face, however, still had two feet of snow cover and occasionally six-feet-high drifts, even down at 7000'.

The backside of Baldy does not have a marked trail, only a cross-country path down to the saddle (8659 ft.) and up again toward Dawson Peak (9375 ft.) on a relatively well-worn trek. In many ways this part of the hike is one of the most visually dramatic, thanks to its giant roller-coaster quality and because of the view offered up to the San Antonio Ridge running perpendicularly in the back, the double peaks of Dawson and Pine Mountain along the ridgeline up front, and the Wilderness down on the left.

Continuing halfway between Dawson Peak and Pine Mountain the trail goes off left and runs a bit below the peak of Pine Mountain, eventually reaching the old and barely noticeable signpost of Fishfork Junction. At this area where I had the singular pleasure to run into a band of Big Horn. This is also where the last tangible evidence of any kind of trail planning visible in this region.

The junction turns 180 degrees and follows the trail from below for a while, until it soon entirely disappears among a series of fallen large pine trees and becomes detectable only occasionally from this point on. From here I can only provide GPS points and their corresponding descriptions. I also must add (with some reservations) that I think I found the Upper Fishfork Campground, although I can't be entirely sure because my assumption is only based on a split in the trail at the end of my last hike and a rusty coffee can I found there.

At N 34.18.324' W117.38.665' the trail runs down in a two sets of switchbacks and veers off the right approximately following the path of N 285' W 692', N 295' W 772', N 219' W 823', N 262' W 39. 011'. The trail here is a little bit easier to follow as it moves along the mountainside and crosses a couple of wooded canyons. The second canyon also holds a seasonal creek providing a source to replenish the water supply at N 478' W 38.974'. At N 499' W 39.457' the trail reaches an open mountainside overgrown with dense brush. Here the on-again-off-again trail switchbacks down to a high, wooded outcropping forked by rushing water from both sides some 1000' below. The coordinates to follow are: N 502' W 652', N 405' W 728', N 395' W 832' (a fine spot to camp). Further on the trek goes lower, off the right to another mountainside following the points of N 395' W 908', N 531' W 864'. At the second set of coordinates where the trail splits again to a waterfall on the right and to another wooded lowland straight below. I suspect that the trail going to the waterfall is where the Upper Fishfork Campground is(was) located. I did not go to that direction because I only saw the fork in the trail on the way back.

Again, I did not physically located either of the campgrounds, although I assume I got quite close to both of them, if they still exist. I do not know if anybody else did lately, because I could not see any shoe prints or human disturbances of any kinds. The country, however, is magnificent and definitely worth further exploring.

A Kick-Ass Day Hike Sans Mountain Driving

After eyeballing this hike for a while, this week I finally decided that the time was right to do it: a Mt. Wilson Trail-West Fork Loop combo. Due to the length of the trek (approx. 30 miles) and elevation gain (700' - 5700'), a long but relatively cool day is required to avoid extensive night hiking and heat exhaustion, while maintaining a substantially brisk pace. For reference: it took me 12 hours to complete this hike with a half hour stop at West Fork Campground.

The first leg (Sierra Madre-Mt. Wilson section) should not take more than three hours to complete. There is a possible alternate starting point, Chantry Flats. I decided against this latter option though, in fear of not making it back on time and getting locked in.

Once reaching Mt. Wilson summit and start heading down to Newcomb Pass, the trail at this section suffers from various degrees of disrepair. Although the view is astounding, this goat trail is cut into a near-vertical face. At times, the footing is less than adequate, so trekking poles here truly come handy. Further down as the trail starts to levels off, the only occasional manzanita overgrowth creates some obstacles.

Arriving to Newcomb Pass, there is a bench for temptation, several beat up National Forest Service (NFS) signs and a memorial plaque commemorating a dead volunteer. Please note that the Wilderness Press: San Gabriel Mountains recreation map shows only three possible directions to proceed from the Pass; there are in fact four choices. To continue to Devore Campground, one must take the trail directly to the left. Further down as the trail crosses the Rincon-Redbox Fire Road, it does it in a rather awkward fashion: hikers have to walk on the fire road approximately 30 feet left to find the continuing and barely visible track.

Below the fire road, a series of narrow canyons shelter expansive groves of California Laurel. Consisting 60-80% of this single species of trees in the area, the canopy here takes an unusually bright, green appearance and some respite from the dirty-old oaks. More uniquely, some green grass grows here even as late and dry as in September, hinting of higher levels of ground moisture in these canyons.

Further down, Devore Campground is reached at the west fork of the San Gabriel River. Being a typical backpackers' camp, the site's only notable feature is perhaps its vicinity to a fine swimming hole. The trail here takes an East-to-West direction and runs along the riverbed to West Fork Campground. Continue to Strayns Canyon (which not once marked on any of the worn NFS signage), hikers must take the left at all trail branches.

Strayns Canyon might as well be called strains canyon. The first half of the path runs straight up without any switchbacks gaining 800 vertical feet. After that, the trail levels off somewhat and later climbs the north slopes of Mt. Wilson, through richly covered groves of pine. Once below the antennae, the trail pointing to "Mt. Wilson parking lot" takes its hikers back to the top of Mt. Wilson-Sierra Madre Trail, to proceed down to the starting point.

Biker rescue at Mt. Wilson Trail

On my recent training hike to Mt. Wilson, as it occasionally happens, I ran into a mountain biker flying downhill. I stepped aside to let him pass, but instead he slammed on the breaks and hastily let me know that his buddy was further up lying immobilized with a broken leg. Then he asked me if I knew, "What trail we were on!?"

Now, to me it seems rather imprudent to hit an unknown track where one risks a fair chance of getting hurt in the first place, however, some of these hapless bikers can only be partially to blame. The top end of Winter Creek Trail at Manzanita Ridge is clearly marked as a bike trail, without any suggestion for further bearings. Although the Altadena Toll Road one half a mile up is the natural choice to proceed, no signs indicate such a direction. So, invariably the riders that make it up to the Ridge, just take the first trail down to the left. Nevertheless, the fact remains that Mt. Wilson Trail (especially above Orchard Camp) with its steep banks, loose dirt, less than 6 inches width in many places, brush cover of less than five feet height at times and tons of bees during buckwheat flowering season is hardly conducive for riding. Just as this unlucky rider found out after the first hundred feet on the trail, where he was down with a broken tibia and a dislocated foot.

I checked on his condition, helped him elevate his leg, and just tried to get him as comfortable as it was possible under the circumstances, before hiking further up in an attempt to get a cell signal. When I reached 911 and gave them my location, they dispatched me to the LA County Sheriff air rescue who promised to send help shortly. I was only about two miles from the top, so I summited, before heading back to the sight of the accident.

Just passed the Toll Road on the way down, when I first spotted a Jolly Green Giant circling overhead, realizing that the guy must have been lying there by then for close to two hours. Noticing that the rescue chopper made several passes on the other side of Harvard Peak and the north face of the Ridge, I also recognized that they must not have the exact location of the stricken biker. I ran down on the firebreak to David Trinkle's Bench, and threw down my trekking poles into a cross on the middle of the clearance, in an attempt to mark my location. I got out my headlight too, set it to flashes, and held it to the direction of the helicopter for about two minutes, when they finally noticed me.

When the thing hovered close enough that I could make out the rescue guys' facial expressions, I started pointing wildly down-trail to let them know where the injured biker was. I thought I would hang around, and check out how they are going to come down, until I realized that the giant S-61 was making a beast of a sand storm as it was getting lower. I quickly picked up my gear and scrammed for cover.

At least I managed to shoot one picture with my cell phone. The biker called me a few days later. He said, he had been airlifted to Huntington Memorial and been sent in for emergency surgery the same night. He got a plate and some screws in that leg. Eric, I am glad you are all right, buddy...

Flickr

Link to for some fancy hiking photos.

Jansport 8000 Meter Challenge for the first-timer

The purpose of this blog is to help the first-time participant to better prepare for the Jansport 8000 Meter Challenge and also to provide a guide for the course timeline. Attempting and completing this unique meet initially in '07, by no means I claim expertise on the subject and would not pretend to advice anyone on how to run the entire course ( a feat, several participants do). I only want to share my experience, so with proper training and planning, others will have an enjoyable and successful experience at the Challenge.


Training for the Challenge
Last year quite a few of my teammates started hiking and running regularly at six thousand feet elevation and above, around mid-summer. It seemed intuitive to train at the higher altitudes, considering that all three target peaks are above 10k. Driving to a suitable trailhead several times a week, however, did not appear to be a practical solution. I trained, instead, at a local trail (Mt. Wilson Trail) that starts at 700 ft. and ends at 5600 ft. in a course of about seven miles. In retrospect, hiking a relatively steep terrain and the length close to half the distance of the event was sufficient. Also, sleeping at the starting point of the Challenge (elev. 6106 ft.) the night before, gave me plenty of time to acclimate for the altitude.

I started regular, timed training six weeks before the meet. By the last two weeks I ran much of the trail every other day. I also hiked twice in a hundred plus degree heat to test my endurance, considering that the event is held September in the SoCal, Inland Empire inferno. I essentially wore the same gear during the training that I used at the Challenge, too. Hiking with the same poles, breaking-in the shoes, and running with the pack I later wore, gave me time to get rubbed, rashed, blistered and ultimately callused on the specific places where the same gear would have given me plenty of misery during the 8K. Once I even ran my training route shirtless with my pack on, which left my back and shoulders pretty raw, however once healed, I never had any complaints again!



Preparations
The event was held midweek in '07 and I imagine that being a standard practice, it will be the case in '08 again. If one manages to arrive to the starting point the night before to get enough sleep, it is probably not necessary to get the day off from work. It is definitely worth getting there the night before though, and taking off rested, as opposed to rushing up for the 5:00 A.M. start. Getting the time off for the day after the event, on the other hand is highly advisable, mainly to recover from the inevitable weight and fluid loss.

Also, getting a friend to drive will make the hour plus commute from a trailhead to another an extremely valuable time for rest, re-hydration and recuperation. Just to calculate how much water and food to bring along, I had a two-liter hydration pack and a Cliff bar for San Antonio, drank a liter electrolyte replacement along with a light snack on the drive to Vivian Creek. On the Gorgonio trail I carried a three-liter bladder, an extra liter-bottle of water and one liter of electrolyte replacement along with three Cliff bars and three packs of energy gel packs. This may seem like an overkill, but I saw several people turning back because of lack of water or severe leg cramps.

This second leg of the Challenge is also probably the most testing, and not just because of the distance (9 miles each way), but because the elevation difference from trailhead-to-summit offers some serious temperature swings. It is strongly recommended by the organizers to carry extra clothing and headlight. Also, due to the time constraints to catch the last Tram going up at Palm Springs in order to complete the last leg of the event on San Jacinto, the participants are forced to push along as fast as possible, especially on the way down, on this particular course.

Going up to San Jacinto requires a whole new set of gear, mainly because of the overnight stay. I had a fully packed backpack with all the essentials to spend the night at Round Valley. I also switched into a heavier pair of boots because of the extra weight. Even though the distance from the top of the Tram to the camp is only about three or so miles, with the heavy pack, it feels a lot longer. On the plus side, there is water at the camp, so no need to carry any. Also, once reaching the camp and after ditching the big pack, reaching San Jacinto summit feels like a short and delirious nightly stroll.



The Event
The Challenge starts at 5:00 A.M. Most everyone starts running up the fire road and some incredibly fit individuals pretty much stay with that initial speed throughout the event. The rest forms a big stampeding bunch, kicking up a whole lot a dust. Staying behind for about five minutes still allows plenty of opportunity to passing people while going up single-file on the Ski Hut trail. Once at the top, there is a little wait to register for the first peak made. This is the best time for a quick snack.

After getting back in the car and dumping some cold water on the feet, it is off to Vivian Creek. The best way going back to the freeway is through Mountain – hwy 210 –hwy 215 – hwy 10 or Mountain – Euclid – hwy 10. Exit at Live Oak Canyon Rd, North on Oak Glen Rd., North on Bryant St., East on Mill Creek Rd., continue to Valley of the Falls Dr. At the Forest Falls parking lot there are restrooms. The trail starts out quite steep at the other side of a wide sandy creek bed. As mentioned earlier, this trail is where it is crucial to push on hard, all the way! It certainly ought not take more than 4.5 hours to get up and 3.5 to get down. If one leaves the Forest Falls parking lot later than 6:00 P.M., there is no practical chance to catch the last Tram going up to San Jacinto.

Once on the Tram though, stressing about the time becomes rather irrelevant. It is replaced by a simple sooner-to-finish-sooner-to-go-to-bed philosophy. Also, building a tent at Round Valley before going up to San Jacinto summit, offers a hassle-free way to pass out, once back at the camp.



The posted spreadsheet of the time/distance breakdown of the Challenge used two timing; one for those long-legged, superhuman maniacs that will run the entire course (you will see them throughout the day); and one for the rest of us, mere mortals.



Good Luck!