Itchy Souls on the Waterman Trail
Posted: Tue Feb 12, 2019 9:14 pm
Sometimes the soul itches. Introspective types experience this phenomenon as a nagging thought that won't go away after a couple beers and a good night's sleep. It lingers in the back of the mind and then resurfaces with each iteration of the internal query, "What should I do now?"
On Saturday I scratched my itchy soul. I left the house and went in search of as much snow as I could find. Cecelia clearly suffered from the same ailment, so together we drove up the Angeles Crest Highway with a shared purpose. We hit the snow level quite quickly around George's Gap and tried to reach Eaton Saddle, but the road was still closed at Redbox. The last storm had ended only a couple hours prior, and Mt. Wilson was spectacularly covered in white stuff. Fortunately, plows were working the Crest Highway beyond Redbox, so our new destination became "as far as we could get."
Near Newcomb's Ranch the road conditions worsened a little, requiring us to slow down and watch for ice.
We had passed some drivers putting chains on their tires, but chains really weren't necessary. In fact, we did not slide off the highway even one time. Cecelia oohed and ahhed over the fresh, winter scenery all the way to Three Points. The parking area had not been plowed, so we parked outside the lot along the road. Beyond Three Points the highway looked somewhat dicier. So we decided to head up the Waterman Trail.
It was still lightly snowing off and on in this area. Visibility was okay, but not great for long-distance pictures of nearby peaks. I estimate the temperature was in the high 20s. At first we encountered only a few inches of snow and did not need spikes.
Two sets of tracks preceded our own, and we found the owners not too far up the trail, climbing rocks.
Due to the freezing weather, much ice had built up on the bare branches of the many dead trees.
We were pretty well bundled up, but Cecelia complained of freezing feet. I told her to knock the snow off her shoes, which did not appear to be waterproof.
We were now blazing trail through about a foot (sometimes two) of untrampled snow. Also, the wind picked up once we rounded the ridge, turning eastward along the south slope. We ultimately abandoned the buried trail and postholed up to the ridgetop, where we sat among some rocks and ate lunch.
Cecelia played in the snow.
After a bite to eat, Cecelia said she was freezing. So we went back down the trail, stopping a couple more times to scratch our itchy souls.
On Saturday I scratched my itchy soul. I left the house and went in search of as much snow as I could find. Cecelia clearly suffered from the same ailment, so together we drove up the Angeles Crest Highway with a shared purpose. We hit the snow level quite quickly around George's Gap and tried to reach Eaton Saddle, but the road was still closed at Redbox. The last storm had ended only a couple hours prior, and Mt. Wilson was spectacularly covered in white stuff. Fortunately, plows were working the Crest Highway beyond Redbox, so our new destination became "as far as we could get."
Near Newcomb's Ranch the road conditions worsened a little, requiring us to slow down and watch for ice.
We had passed some drivers putting chains on their tires, but chains really weren't necessary. In fact, we did not slide off the highway even one time. Cecelia oohed and ahhed over the fresh, winter scenery all the way to Three Points. The parking area had not been plowed, so we parked outside the lot along the road. Beyond Three Points the highway looked somewhat dicier. So we decided to head up the Waterman Trail.
It was still lightly snowing off and on in this area. Visibility was okay, but not great for long-distance pictures of nearby peaks. I estimate the temperature was in the high 20s. At first we encountered only a few inches of snow and did not need spikes.
Two sets of tracks preceded our own, and we found the owners not too far up the trail, climbing rocks.
Due to the freezing weather, much ice had built up on the bare branches of the many dead trees.
We were pretty well bundled up, but Cecelia complained of freezing feet. I told her to knock the snow off her shoes, which did not appear to be waterproof.
We were now blazing trail through about a foot (sometimes two) of untrampled snow. Also, the wind picked up once we rounded the ridge, turning eastward along the south slope. We ultimately abandoned the buried trail and postholed up to the ridgetop, where we sat among some rocks and ate lunch.
Cecelia played in the snow.
After a bite to eat, Cecelia said she was freezing. So we went back down the trail, stopping a couple more times to scratch our itchy souls.
