Grasslands and Dams

I'm trying to get the gazzilion extra pounds off that I put on over the last couple of years, so Josh and I are picking up the after work hikes again.  We headed over to the north side of Mission Trails in search of some lesser visited Kumeyaay sites. We started out slowly on Father Junipero Serra road on balmy summer evening. We passed a Ranger led guided tour exploring the flora and fauna of Kumeyaay Lakes before turning down a concrete path that crossed over a stagnant San Diego River. The vibe in the overgrown river grotto felt like a bayou and gave me flashbacks of my recent visit to Tennessee. 

We climbed out of the river gorge, passing large stands of blooming Datura and vines heavy with wild cucumber before topping out on a beautiful grass prairie. The atmosphere was thick and heavy as we followed the trail under pastel skies. 

At the edge of the prairie was a generic brown trail sign pointing the way to an outcropping of bedrock boulders labeled as grinding rocks. Josh and I diverted from the trail, which was likely a fire road in the recent past, and meandered through the dry brush that filled our socks with stickers and seed pods. Once at the bedrock island, we found a beautiful set of oval morteros which I've learned are called Cuyamaca Ovals.

It seems these oval shaped moretros are primarily found in the Peninsular range and are most frequently located next to prairies and meadows. It is theorized that the type of seed or grass collected here required a back and forth motion to process, resulting in the oblong shape.

Josh and I surveyed the area for a while and chatted about how we take our natural landscapes at face value, thinking they are solely the work of environmental phenomenon. It's only after delving into archaeology that I've discovered that a lot of what we see on trail is not necessarily "natural", but rather, was selectively designed by our predecessors. It is likely that this particular grassland was cultivated, managed and maintained by the Kumeyaay over decades in order to resemble what it does today. I sat quietly for a time while Josh poked around in the brush, and ran my finger along the edge of a stone divot as smooth as silk. I scanned the horizon of this brittle field that'd gone to seed and thought to myself, this is actually a prehistoric garden.

The sun was rapidly retreating behind Fortuna ridge so I snapped out of my musing and followed Josh south to complete our grassland loop traverse.

We descended from the mesa via several steep stairs carved into the hillside and reinforced with wood 2x4's until the trail vanished into Oak Canyon Creek, a tributary of The San Diego River. After slogging through the soft sand of the dry creek bed we met with an overgrown trail that led to the western flank of Old Mission Dam. 

After pushing passed low hanging sycamore branches and avoiding baby buffalo gourds under foot, we arrived to the dam. This rocky structure was dreamed up by the Spanish and constructed by the Kumeyaay in order to provide reliable water to the colonies and missions in the area.* Today, it seems it collects more visitor trash than water and Josh and I packed out an abundance of aluminum cans and debris.

Instead of walking across the dam we opted to go around and search for more signs of history in the wash. Just as we were about to cross over the river I noticed several layers of archaeology on the banks. Resting on top of each other in situ was a rusted, gunshot riddled vehicle quarter panel on top of a bedrock boulder speckled with shallow Cuyamaca Ovals. I admired this display in the ambient light of dusk and decided archaeology is not static. Whether we realize it or not, we do not passively observe it, we live it and add to it everyday. Or, I might just be overthinking things...It's advisable to bring a grain of salt on hikes with me these days.

The smell of raw sewage stung my nose as we walked single file over the flume toward an empty parking lot.  I wasn't ready for the hike to be over and I meandered through the shoreline boulders looking for more points of interest until it became too dark to see.  All in all, we put in a couple miles and successfully worked off some excess calories while giving our existential brains a workout in the process. 

It was a great after-work hike.

South Fortuna Peak via Staircase - Monday Night Hikes!

This week's Monday Night Hike we decided to finish off Fortuna Mountain with a 5 mile hike up to the South Peak. After work, we ran home, readied our gear and met at the visitor's center trailhead at 6pm. Carlos brought his friend Maria and she was a blast to hike with!

We followed the visitor's center trail around to a river crossing where we rose steeply out of the canyon on a long fire road.

Finally, we topped out and met with the S-Curve Trail which headed down into another ravine. You've got to love San Diego trails; they gain a ton of elevation and then promptly lose it, only to gain it right back. Sheesh! 

We met a couple groups of hikers and a set of mountain bikers on the narrow trail and exchanged pleasantries. We enjoyed the alpenglow on the Mission Trails ridgeline and pressed on toward the staircase.

As we rounded a corner Josh hollered "look ahead!" We stopped and watched a large Mule Deer Buck running down the trail. Of course, he was faster than we could get out our cameras, but we enjoyed seeing his hoof prints, and those of a feathered creature, in the soft sand. 

The sun was rapidly setting as we began our final ascent. With the staircase looming in the distance we shifted into a slower pace and readied our legs for the burn.

We stopped at several intervals on the staircase to take in the views, locate the trail and catch our breath. On the side of the mountain you could see Point Loma, Downtown and the Coronado Bridge light up and come to life.

Carlos action figures coming soon. :-)

The stairs seemed never ending! 

Finally, we topped out at a false summit and gave each other half high fives. The stairs were a challenge! We continued up and took an alternate route looking for the summit marker. The views of the sunset were incredible and we saw nighthawks jumping from bush to bush.

At last! Hooray! A round of full high fives for everyone! We took pictures, sat down for a snack and did some scorpion hunting with the black lights. After the short break we dawned our headlamps and started the trek downward.

It wasn't difficult to spot the scorpions, as they were sitting out unabashedly in the middle of the trail!

Even though we didn't need the black light to find them, it is still so cool to see them glow!

The journey back provided us with an array of night time creatures. Scorpions, Stink Bugs, a Caterpillar, a Kangaroo Rat, another Mule Deer, a Black Widow, some Nighthawks and the lovely Wolf Spider with his diamond eyes sparkling in the brush.

We arrived back at the trailhead around 9pm after a leisurely hike down the hill. We gave each other another round of high fives and Maria went to see a friend while Josh, Carlos and I went to eat some well deserved Mexican food.

Another great Monday Night Hike!

Next week, Carlos picks the trail!

Dobbs and the Bear. Momyer hike, part deuce.

Josh and I were so struck by the beauty of Dobbs Camp on our day hike last weekend we thought it deserved an overnight to thoroughly explore the area. We arrived at the trail head around 11am.

While getting our gear out of the truck, Josh realized his bite valve was missing from his bladder. We scoured the truck and could not find it. He opted to make due and use the shut off valve.

Crossing Mill Creek the water level seemed higher, but was not difficult to traverse. We passed the wilderness sign and began our hot ascent through the oak groves.

Josh, learning his lesson from last weekend is chowing down sugar chews to keep his levels in check on such a hot day.

Finally out of the hot part of the trail we arrive at Alger Creek and sit down for lunch of peanut butter and jelly on tortillas and spicy beef jerky.

Yes, really spicy beef jerky.

We hiked out from Alger creek back into the exposed hillside, sharp buckthorn, and berry groves, grateful for the cloud cover and breeze.

We arrived at Dobbs to see a super full campground. There was not a single site available that wasn't on top of other campers. We trekked up the hill looking for a semi secluded place to drop pack when we were greeted by a fellow camper. "BooBoo went that way" he said. I looked at him confused until he elaborated that there was a bear in the area. He said it was the color of my hair and very beautiful but that he had caught him with his nose in his backpack moments earlier. I was a little shaken as this is one of the few trips I didn't bring the bear can. We thanked him for the information and continued to look for a camp site. The fellow camper asked if we would like him to move down to a spot closer to his friends so we could camp in his space. An offer I stupidly declined. Hind sight is 20/20. We hiked across a small ravine to a flat area and immediately hung our food in a tree 30 feet or so out of our camp and 20 feet in the air. 

We set up the tent and threw our quilts and sleeping pads inside.

We donned our light packs and set out to explore the creek. The brush was high on the banks so we hiked right up the middle of the flow.

Josh discovers quicksand on the banks of the creek and has a great time churning it up.

Finally we hiked as far up as the creek would let us and moved to higher ground. We checked our map and saw the big falls was down creek. Hungry, we slowly headed back towards camp, splashing around as we went.

We arrived at the ravine near camp when we heard someone call down. "Hey, are you guys set up on the far side of the camp?" He asked. We said yes and he went on to tell us that a bear had mauled our tent. A little shocked and totally bummed, we hiked up to survey the damage.

As we arrived more campers came to tell us the story: the bear did a belly flop on the tent and tore into it looking for food. There wasn't anything for him, so he moved on and the tent sprung back into shape. From a distance it looked a little wonky but not too bad. It wasn't until we got up on it that we saw he had shredded all four sides in the mesh and nylon, bent a couple poles and scratched a hole in my new Enlightened Equipment quilt, which I had not yet used. Such a bummer!! The damage was more extensive than we had duct tape to fix so we opted to use the remaining daylight to pack out and live to hike another day. Losing such expensive gear to poor decision making really stings.

After we packed up we hung our heads and bid some fellow campers farewell. Upon our ascent out of the canyon Josh stopped short and dropped a few choice words. I looked up in the direction he was looking and saw our friend and gear adjuster, BooBoo the bear, standing not more than 20 feet above us. Josh, me and the bear ran around each other like a scene from the three stooges, Josh heading back down the trail, the bear running up the hillside and me opting to slide down the hill in the other direction, both of us with jumbled sentences and expletives until we finally pulled our wits together and tried to form a plan. 

The bear was further up the trail in the direction we needed to go and there was no way for any of us to go around each other unless someone retreated. Josh started growling and yelling at the bear and I followed suit while we inched our way toward him. Much to our chagrin the bear decided to inch his way toward US and we locked into a game of chicken. Finally the bear conceded and ran up the trail, disappearing around the corner. Moving forward we did not see him and I played the punk rock band OFF! at full blast while Josh threw rocks and logs around blind corners.

Back up on the ridge line we walked REALLY FAST with music playing until we rounded a corner and ran into a volunteer ranger. We told him of our debacle and he decided to hike up the hill to the camp and check it out. We bid him farewell and pushed on.

Dropping back down into Alger creek, I am tired and hungry but running on adrenaline and the thrill of seeing my first bear on the trail. It is a whole different experience to see them in the back country than it is from the safety of your car, let me tell you.

Climbing out of Alger creek we see a mass of tawny feathers shoot silently across the trail. We stop and are lucky enough to see a Barred Owl take perch in a large oak tree. We stopped for a long time and took pictures of him. I played some Barn Owl 'kleek calls' from my phone to see what he would do. He fluffed up his feathers and seemed interested in the call of a different owl. Barred Owls have very interesting calls that can boarder on frightening if they're discussing territory amongst themselves.
Usually Barred Owls say "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you alllll?"

EDITED 9/10/13: It turns out this is a Spotted Owl, not a Barred Owl. They look very similar.

By now, light is dwindling by the second. We tear ourselves away from the owl and continue our race down the mountain.

Finally back on the ridgeline we admire the alpenglow and continue to chase the sun down toward Mill Creek.

We're moving fast and Josh stops short on the ridge. We take a second to check out a tarantula crossing the trail. Crepuscular creatures have now officially given way to nocturnal ones. We spot one more tarantula as we enter the creek bed area and a couple bats darting about the sky.

Safely back in Mill Creek, just steps from the truck we admire the sunset and high five our achievement. What a day! Momyer trail has turned out to be a beast! We've been up twice now and still haven't seen the falls or the remnants of the cabin due to our encounters with 'the locals'. We headed down the mountain to Outback and ate our weight in steaks and salad.

The next morning Josh found his bite valve, on the carpet in the house. Luckily it was spared an encounter with the wild felines that inhabit my abode.

In closing, hindsight really is 20/20. I kick myself for leaving my gear in an area with such gnarly bear activity, especially because I was warned! What a dummy I am!! 

In my mind I thought my gear was safe because there was nothing in, or around it that had a smell, not even a tube of chapstick! Now looking back, a habituated bear would SEE a tent and think food, going beyond his olfactory senses. 

If I had it to do over again I would have sucked up my need for personal space and camped near the group. This would have saved my gear and kept the bear at bay. An expensive lesson, but a valuable one none the less. 

I am happy the bear did not get what he was looking for as it would have been a tragedy for his efforts to pay off. If you don't know, bears that are habituated to people are not relocated, they are killed. A fed bear is a dead bear. I don't want any part of that and I hope that other backpackers learn from my mistakes. 

For now, I wait to see if Big Agnes will help me repair my tent so it can go with me on future trips this season and the PCT in April. 

We live to hike another day, this time wiser.