Cecelia was going to take the day off. But when she heard me preparing for a hike, she decided to come along and keep an eye on her man. I had no particular plan. Usually that means I drive up the Angeles Crest and await inspiration. And that was indeed the case this time.
Shortly after leaving La Canada we bumped up against a large caravan of slow-moving Volkswagens. They controlled the flow of traffic until Chilao, where, I guess, they intended to have an outdoor convention.
Continuing along Cecelia suggested doing something around Buckhorn--always a great area to spend a day. Plus, she hadn't summited Mt. Akawie, so that became the plan.
Akawie is pretty easy (0.8 miles one-way with 420' of gain), so I packed light and wore my hiking sandals. It's a Sierra Club peak, which means I don't need to bother with approach details.
The top contained a bunch of boulders. We could see where a benchmark had once been.
The missing mark disappointed Cecelia. I tried to cheer her up by finding a neat rock formation, which we dubbed Potato Chip Crumb Rock.
On the way back I looked across the canyon toward Winston Peak and felt an idea pop into my mind.
I had never done the cross-country traverse between Akawie and Winston (2.1 miles with 1100' of gain). Looking at the topo map, the route seemed okay. Nothing horrible. The only problem was that I had left my boots in the car. Oh well, the sandals would have to suffice.
We hit some steep sections and did the old pine needle shuffle, trying not to slip and fall on our butts while dropping about 900' of elevation. Eventually we made the bottom of upper Cooper Canyon. A little water still pooled and trickled in the creek bed. Utilizing deer paths we escaped up the opposite bank and hit the Pacific Crest Trail.
(Looking back at our descent route from Akawie.)
From the PCT we found an easy way to access the east ridge of Winston Peak.
(XC traverse route in red.)
The east ridge was great, with a nice mix of moderate to steep grades. We enjoyed some shade under big trees and among periodic boulder fields.
I took note of an impressive cloud formation to the north, which later that evening turned into a powerful thunderstorm that crossed the high desert.
By the time we reached Winston Peak, my feet had taken a small amount of abuse. Rocks, sand, and twigs routinely fought their way into my ill-considered footwear and caused quite a bit of mischief. I spent a good twenty minutes or so with a sharp pebble buried in the bottom of my index toe. Yeah, it hurt, but sometimes you just don't want to bother emptying your sandals for the umpteenth time. One rock in the foot isn't worth the effort. Two, maybe. Three, definitely. This is the law of the hiking sandals.
That dude's so funny. Gets me every time!
