The Coinflips concept is pretty simple. Get to a trail junction and flip a coin to see which direction you turn. I chose Crystal Lake to conduct this adventure due to its impressive trail network. And if you're anal like me you can actually mark on a map the proper places to flip a coin.
I stood at the road in front of the Visitor Center and flipped my first coin. It turned up tails, which meant I was heading left.
Subsequent flips put me on the Cedar Canyon and Soldier Creek Trails, Cedar Canyon dropped down to the creek, which was flowing decently from the recent snow. Soldier Creek Trail had a downed tree limb across it. Also, I had been under the impression it would lead me to Soldier Creek, but that did not appear to be the case.
Instead it took me back up to the main recreation area near Yerba Santa Amphitheater.
The will of the coin then sent me through the campground and onto the Tototngna Trail loop.
Then more campground paths and the Deer Flats Road.
Before I knew it I was sent up the snow-covered South Mt. Hawkins Road. The first washout seemed worse than I remembered it. A healthy stream was cascading down the channel.
One snow drift was particularly large and covered about 30 feet of the road.
I may have been the first human up the road that morning, but I certainly wasn't the first animal.
Eventually I made it up to South Mt. Hawkins and surprised a heard of Big Horns.
Next I backtracked and started up the Hawkins Ridge Trail.
A helicopter flew over South Hawkins and circled once before taking off.
It had been a real struggle in the increasingly annoying snow with only my hiking sandals and wool socks on my feet. Every hundred yards of so I would have to stop, knock off the ice from my sandals and wring out the wet socks. It became a real grind, and by elevation 8000' my feet were hurting quite a bit from the cold. An entire half of my right foot was unmanageable. I cursed out loud and wrote "MURDER" in the snow.
Shortly thereafter I bit the bullet and turned around. On the way back down Hawkins Road, another opportunity for cursing arose: my right leg got temporarily stuck in a snow bank.
Once below the worst of the snow, subsequent coinflips took me along the Deer Flats
and the Golden Cup Trail.
Finally, after 17 miles, I found myself back at the café, where Bubba politely listened to my story about helicopters and murder,
and Sam the cook made me a chili cheese hot dog.