The re-growing wilderness
This was the last open weekend in my schedule until Palm Sunday weekend, my last chance to go adventuring for the next six weeks, so even though I'd gone out only two weeks ago, I couldn't resist going out again. I wanted something a bit on the ambitious side, but not too demanding, since the sun is still going down in the late afternoon these days.
My favorite hiking website, Nobody Hikes in LA, lists two different routes up to Josephine Peak, in the Angeles Forest along the road to Mount Wilson. They were about the same length, but one went up a wide open fire road while the other wound its way up the steep side of Colby Canyon. The trail heads were less than a mile from each other, so... why not both? I decided I'd park at the Clear Creek Fire Station, where the Angeles Crest Highway meets the Angeles Forest Highway, walk down to the Colby Canyon trail head, go up the canyon and then come back down the fire road, ending up back at the fire station.
The Colby Canyon trail was one of the last ones reopened after the 2009 Station Fire, and you can still see plenty of signs of how bad the fire was. There was also plenty of greenery, though, and that was encouraging. At one point, I crossed paths with another hiker, and in our conversation I mentioned I live in Ventura County. He asked me if I'd gotten through the Thomas Fire okay, and then waved his hand toward our surroundings, saying, "But look, it will all come back!"
Southern California's canyons can be pretty steep, and hiking out of them can get gnarly. I've seen that in the San Gabriels, the Santa Monicas and the Topatopas, and Colby Canyon was a pretty typical example. I've hiked trails that were longer and taller, but Colby was still plenty challenging. After a couple of hours, though, I reached the Josephine Saddle, a level spot where several different trails converge. While I was catching my breath, a large group that had been hiking around nearby Strawberry Peak emerged, guided by an older man from some kind of local geology group (at least that's what his hat said), using an iPad to keep track of their location. From the saddle, it was a pretty easy trek across the ridge line until Josephine Peak came into view.
But that didn't mean the journey was over. After the trail joined the fire road, it went switching back and forth up to the summit for what felt like a mile or more. As I neared the top, I could hear voices chatting happily, and when I climbed the last few feet, I found a half-dozen Millennial hikers - plus a dog - enjoying a picnic lunch.
Not the kind of situation an introvert hiker like me enjoys, but the summit was plenty big enough for all of us and they mostly left me alone. Well, except for the dog, which growled at me. I sat down for some lunch of my own, and then took some photos. Josephine Peak isn't one of the better known mountains in the Angeles Forest, and from sea level you can't even spot it, but the views from the top are spectacular. Mount Lukens dominated the west, surrounded by haze and with other, more distant peaks poking up out of a cloud sea, while to the east it was hard to pull your eyes away from Strawberry Peak.
I stayed behind at the summit when the picnickers left, hoping for some solitude and also wanting to give them a head start so we wouldn't cross paths on the way down. But mere moments after they left, another group showed up, and on the way down they were so slow that I caught and passed them anyway. Oh, the hazards one faces as an introvert hiker. As I planned, I took the fire road down, and had a surprisingly quick descent. Within an hour and a half, I was back at my car.
This hike could be the start of an impromptu "fire recovery tour," as later this spring I'd like to go see some of the Sand Fire burn area that's reopening, and I hope to see Topatopa again sometime before the summer heat arrives. Just like the guy I met on the trail said, it's good to know that the wilderness grows back.
My favorite hiking website, Nobody Hikes in LA, lists two different routes up to Josephine Peak, in the Angeles Forest along the road to Mount Wilson. They were about the same length, but one went up a wide open fire road while the other wound its way up the steep side of Colby Canyon. The trail heads were less than a mile from each other, so... why not both? I decided I'd park at the Clear Creek Fire Station, where the Angeles Crest Highway meets the Angeles Forest Highway, walk down to the Colby Canyon trail head, go up the canyon and then come back down the fire road, ending up back at the fire station.
The Colby Canyon trail was one of the last ones reopened after the 2009 Station Fire, and you can still see plenty of signs of how bad the fire was. There was also plenty of greenery, though, and that was encouraging. At one point, I crossed paths with another hiker, and in our conversation I mentioned I live in Ventura County. He asked me if I'd gotten through the Thomas Fire okay, and then waved his hand toward our surroundings, saying, "But look, it will all come back!"
Southern California's canyons can be pretty steep, and hiking out of them can get gnarly. I've seen that in the San Gabriels, the Santa Monicas and the Topatopas, and Colby Canyon was a pretty typical example. I've hiked trails that were longer and taller, but Colby was still plenty challenging. After a couple of hours, though, I reached the Josephine Saddle, a level spot where several different trails converge. While I was catching my breath, a large group that had been hiking around nearby Strawberry Peak emerged, guided by an older man from some kind of local geology group (at least that's what his hat said), using an iPad to keep track of their location. From the saddle, it was a pretty easy trek across the ridge line until Josephine Peak came into view.
But that didn't mean the journey was over. After the trail joined the fire road, it went switching back and forth up to the summit for what felt like a mile or more. As I neared the top, I could hear voices chatting happily, and when I climbed the last few feet, I found a half-dozen Millennial hikers - plus a dog - enjoying a picnic lunch.
Not the kind of situation an introvert hiker like me enjoys, but the summit was plenty big enough for all of us and they mostly left me alone. Well, except for the dog, which growled at me. I sat down for some lunch of my own, and then took some photos. Josephine Peak isn't one of the better known mountains in the Angeles Forest, and from sea level you can't even spot it, but the views from the top are spectacular. Mount Lukens dominated the west, surrounded by haze and with other, more distant peaks poking up out of a cloud sea, while to the east it was hard to pull your eyes away from Strawberry Peak.
I stayed behind at the summit when the picnickers left, hoping for some solitude and also wanting to give them a head start so we wouldn't cross paths on the way down. But mere moments after they left, another group showed up, and on the way down they were so slow that I caught and passed them anyway. Oh, the hazards one faces as an introvert hiker. As I planned, I took the fire road down, and had a surprisingly quick descent. Within an hour and a half, I was back at my car.
This hike could be the start of an impromptu "fire recovery tour," as later this spring I'd like to go see some of the Sand Fire burn area that's reopening, and I hope to see Topatopa again sometime before the summer heat arrives. Just like the guy I met on the trail said, it's good to know that the wilderness grows back.
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