EISPIRATEN

The weather cooled down enough to get back to work on the San Diego Peaks List. Collins (#39) and Knob (#65) were the goals today, with a bonus of Peak 4596 approaching from the west. The hike started at a locked gate and followed a dirt road that goes through Schoepe Scout Reservation land before reaching the cross country jump off point. I contacted the Boy Scouts via email on the web site and received permission to hike through this weekend. Lost Valley road was in good shape and neither 4x4 nor high clearance were needed. We drove past half a dozen deer hunters on the road, parked in various places.

Sean and I parked just outside the gate of the BSA road just after dawn. It was cool in the morning with temps expected to range from the mid-50s to mid-80s. We started higher than our destinations, meaning a lot of uphill on the way back. After a mile plus of descending the road, we headed left into the light brush behind a large boulder. The terrain was a confusing mix of washes, low bumps, and light brush with occasional small trees. It was very similar to the terrain around Pike, Cody, and Norte. Pike was a constant visible landmark to the south. We generally stuck to the track, ducking in and out of washes. There was enough space between the bushes that you could generally avoid them, though we both got a few scrapes from small trees. We found the cut sections of brush that Ben Baumann described, an obvious firebreak from days gone by. We cached some water about a half mile before the loop split on a hill with a prominent boulder. The split point was the saddle below Peak 4695. As we got close to the saddle, we veered more directly to the summit. Though the register was placed in 1979, it still had very few signatures. It is on the way to Collins from the west, but would require extra effort from the east. This was our first view of Collins. We took a short break on 4695 before packing up and heading down the ridge.








Battle scars


Peak 4695


Tagged the register jar

We continued on the ridge from Peak 4695 to Collins. It didn't look as intimidating from this side. There were several drops along the ridge with a couple of steep ascents to reach the summit. The summit boulder pile was easy class 3 and the register was in a white tube at the bottom. We signed in and Sean found a shady spot to relax and eat. We talked about the big 1400' drop to Knob. Sean wasn't feeling it and decided to head back and wait for me at the water cache. I was feeling pretty well and didn't want to make another trip just for Knob. Sean asked how long I thought it would take me to get Knob. I guessed 2.5 hours which would have put me at the cache around 2:00 PM. That turned out to be optimistic.


Collins BM from the west






Looking down at Knob BM from the side of Collins

I started down Collins to the steep west gully. Knob was sitting far below but didn't look too far. The descent was sandy but not bad. There were a few cairns around and a partial use trail came and went. When I got to the bottom, I began to cross the feeder wash to Sheep Canyon. I found a bundle of black tubing near the wash, often used in illegal grow operations. This seem like a particularly difficult spot for a grow operation and there were no other signs of activity. I started directly up Knob, choosing some unnecessary class 3 instead of contouring all the way around to keep it class 2. Knob was a cool summit and the views all around were great. Collins looked immense from below. I had expended too much energy climbing Knob and my heart rate was racing around 160. I rested until it came down and tried to eat the unappealing food I had left. My food choices need to be re-engineered because this was the second time this has happened to me this year. I had enough water to make it to the cache, so I ate some raisins and lifesavers and got on my way. I crossed the wash again heading toward the saddle below 4695. Without enough food, I found myself sluggish. Every couple of hundred feet of gain spiked my heart rate. This forced frequent stops to let my heart calm down. Lather, rinse, repeat. The terrain on the way back from Knob was mentally draining, mainly side hilling above the canyons and around massive rock structures. It was clear that I going to be late to the cache. After passing the saddle, I took a direct route to the cache, ending above the boulder and slightly higher than the cache. I didn't see Sean and yelled out for him. Nothing. I dropped down to the cache to retrieve my water and found a note. He had waited until 3:20 PM but was worried about making it out before the sun went down since he was without a working headlamp. It was about 4:00 PM. He had left me some almonds and an extra bottle of water. While he was probably concerned about me, I was also concerned about him being able to find his way out and back to the road. He mentioned earlier that he could work with the landmarks like Pike to keep him going the right direction. However, the right direction and a safe direction were two different things.




Near the top of Knob


Looking back at Collins



Getting back to the water cache gave me a mental boost. I shuffled up and down the bumps on the way back, mostly up. Following the path back was relatively easy with the GPS. I was checking the sand to see if Sean's footprints were there heading back. I spotted them in a couple of key washes, but not others. Still, it was encouraging to see he was making progress and not lost. I stopped and loaded batteries into my headlamp and fired it up at dusk. I didn't want to spend a lot of time in the brush while it was dark. As the last light faded, I saw the telephone poles on the road and heard Sean calling out. I answered and in 15 minutes, I was out. We exchanged stories of the return and walked the road back to the car. Sean had formulated several different rescue plans in case I never showed up. If Sean wasn't there, my plan was to wait a while on the road before activating my emergency beacon. Fortunately, none of our contingencies were needed. I was glad to have Collins and Knob in the bag, but my lasting memory will be the slow, painful, slog out from Knob. On the drive home, we stopped at 5 Guys and loaded up on burgers and fries. They served us despite our ground in dirt and caked blood.




The saddle below Peak 4695, closing the loop

Nice pics. I'm glad you made it out safely.

Fun times! Sounds like a very class-2 outing

Too bad I couldn't join yall. I need a few days to write a TR about the class-2 outing I went on instead.

tekewin wrote: We talked about the big 1400' drop to Knob. Sean wasn't feeling it and decided to head back and wait for me at the water cache. I was feeling pretty well and didn't want to make another trip just for Knob. Sean asked how long I thought it would take me to get Knob. I guessed 2.5 hours which would have put me at the cache around 2:00 PM. That turned out to be optimistic.

I watched Keith take off alone. He said he was feeling good, so I didn't worry. After all, he had been a bit faster than me all day and was highly motivated to bag Knob. Whereas I felt sluggish and perfectly happy with getting Collins. Also, I particularly didn't want to become a problem for him by exhausting myself so far away from water and civilization.

So I finished my lunch and scrambled up to the summit block for some views. The descending route to Knob looked like a real pain, and I knew I had made the right decision. Then it suddenly occurred to me that there should be a benchmark on Collins. I supposed that Keith had forgotten to look for it in his rush to depart for Knob. After a quick search, I found the mark on a lower boulder nearby. Oddly, it had no date stamp.

Then I signed the register and headed back to the water stash. I took my time retracing the route, navigating from memory, using landmarks, since I had neither map nor GPS. This part was fairly straightforward. In fact, despite being 2.5 miles away on an undulating ridge, I could almost see the big boulders at the cache spot. It was easy enough to find a good route and weave through the patches of brush and rocks. I happened upon an old McCleod with a broken handle and carried it up to its new home atop Peak 4695. To manage the mild heat, I rested a couple times in the shade of some rock outcroppings and small juniper trees. A few tiny ferns clung to life inside the cracks in the boulders.





During the trip out we had gotten mixed up with some thick brush on one particular bump. But on the way back I managed to find a much clearer route and avoid the bushwhacking. I reached the water stash around 1:30 PM. Next to a giant boulder, I cleared rocks from the ground and sat down to relax in the shade.

After snacking and rehydrating, I entertained myself by wrapping duct tape around my toes and standing up every few minutes to look for Keith. From my higher vantage point, I could see where he should approach from about a mile away.



By about 2:30 PM, there was still no sign of Keith. I shouted his name many times and received no reply. By 3:00 PM I considered him overdue and began to worry. I immediately took a full inventory of my supplies, and discovered that I had brought the wrong batteries for my headlamp. On top of forgetting my phone in the car, this made me feel like a real dumbass. However, I was good in other departments, including having stuff to make a fire if it got too cold. And I had plenty of food and water.

I was estimating the time, based on the incorrect time stamp on my camera's pictures and the position of the sun. I thought the time stamp was about an hour fast. Actually, though, it was only an half-hour fast. So when there was no sign of Keith around 3:30 PM, I considered my options and decided that I had to get to the dirt road by nightfall. This way I could go for help if Keith were stranded somewhere immobile. Otherwise, not knowing what happened to him, I might get stuck in the middle of nowhere in the dark without a GPS or light.

Hoping for the best case scenario, that Keith was exhausted but moving, I left him a note detailing my plan, some extra water, and food. I then gathered my gear and started for the road.

I remembered my landmarks, but the area was quite brushy and filled with confusing ravines and ridges, making it difficult to locate the old firebreak that was now very much obscured by new growth. I completely lost the break at a few points and simply aimed toward the right direction, pushing my way through the vegetation. Eventually I got close enough to the final saddle landmark that I abandoned the firebreak altogether and made a bee-line for my destination, dropping in and out of a couple small washes, and clambering up to the saddle via an animal track.

From the saddle I could now see the power lines along the dirt road. With maybe another hour of daylight remaining, I turned and shouted across the watershed for Keith. Still nothing. I took a break on the saddle and waited. But there was no answer to my calls. Eventually I continued for the road and parked myself there, where we had started our cross-country ordeal nearly eleven hours prior.

Keith's car was parked at the locked gate another 1.5 miles up the dirt road. In my note I had said I would wait at the road for him until 7 PM, then hike to the car. If he didn't show up by midnight, my plan was to break his car window, get my phone, and try to text or call 911. If that didn't work, I'd have to hike out on the dirt road, which was perhaps another 7 miles to civilization.

Thankfully none of that needed to happen, as Keith finally answered one of my shouts mere minutes before complete darkness set in. He crossed from the final saddle to the road by headlamp, and I don't think I've ever seen him simultaneously more exhausted and pissed off at a mountain.

Nice one boys. Glad y'all got out.