Antimony Peak, Eagle Rest Peak

Antimony Peak

It's been a bit since I've been in a position to throw a couple "local" peaks at you. Here's the antidote, Antimony Peak and Eagle Rest. With names like these they'd both made my to-do list, and they'd sat there for a bit too long. I've been a bit busy with life stuff, like a 3-room house expansion which is now well under way. As a consequence of all the ruckus I've felt myself getting soft, weak, a shining example of American sloth. I needed to arrest the slide. I teemed with Jack Elliott for this one.

These two summits can be found in the San Emigdio Range just north of Mt Pinos. They are connected by a forested ridge which descends a fairly respectable unsanctioned trail. This day is deceptively tough for a number of reasons. The trailhead to Antimony starts high, and on exiting the truck at the trailhead I was immediately struck by the understanding that everything in this neighborhood is big, big and steep. As I've noted before, sometimes it's not the number of miles but what's in them that matters.

A detail of the day's work. The elevation profile is below.

Departing the Antimony trailhead we rapidly descended a densely forested ridge. In a couple places the forest parted and the bleached white face of the peak gleamed brightly in the rising sun. At the bottom of the base of Antimony we settled in for a pretty darn steep 900ft climb to the summit. The trail didn't waste any time going up, zig-zagging toward the sky. We soon topped out on a small flat, kind of a saddle, and a thin use trail headed up hill a short hop to the summit. Much of the view from the top is obscured by pine trees, but to the south a view of the Mt Pinos ridge is on full display. Back at the saddle we had a great view of Eagle Rest Peak.

The summit on Antimony, and the view south toward Mt Pinos, which can be seen in the distance.

Looking northeast from Antimony.

The Antimony Peak register.

Eagle Rest, from the saddle under Antimony.

Taking off from Antimony we descended a very steep trail through the forest. When I say "steep" I mean that this part of the morning descended more than 1,300ft in less than a mile. By the time we reached the bottom of this stretch we'd passed through the pines and into the scrub oak and juniper zone. Both of us stood there at the bottom for a minute, both of us commenting on quivering quads and expressing gratitude that we had no intention of going back the way we'd come. We switched gears and climbed 500ft up a brushy knob before descending another thousand feet to a saddle directly beneath Eagle Rest. I have to say, getting to Eagle Rest and returning by the same route seems like a recipe for suffering. 

Looking west into San Emigdio Canyon from beneath Eagle Rest.

Looking east toward the Plieto Hills and the Wind Wolves Preserve.

And finally, looking straight up Eagle Rest.

From the saddle we faced another murderous little climb, this one ascending a bit over 1,000ft in just a half mile. That doesn't leave a lot of room for switchbacks. Essentially, this thing just goes straight up to the summit. It's a sporty little thing, a little steep, a little loose, some high stepping through the rock bands up high. This climb got my heart taching right along. We knocked it out quickly and were soon standing amongst a collection of weathered boulders which crown the summit. I was awash in sweat and after dropping pack I turned my back to the cooling breeze. Moments later I clambered to the top of the tallest summit rock and was greeted by a remarkable view. Much of the horizon was dominated by the vast expanse of the Central Valley. Looking northwest I could make out Maricopa and Taft, and could even see the glimmer of Soda Lake on the Carrizo. Somewhere northeast, snuffed by agricultural haze, lay Bakersfield. Just a few shadows above the haze represented the Tehachapi Mountains. Looking south I was reminded once again that no matter what our exit route might hold in store, at least we weren't going back up to Antimony. 

Looking east toward the Plieto Hills and the Tehachapis.

Jack, on the summit of Eagle Rest.

A view down lower San Emidio Canyon toward Maricopa, Taft, and the Carrizo. 

Done with the summit we descended a couple hundred feet off the peak and departed the trail, heading down a northwest ridge coming off the peak. The idea was to descend this all the way into San Emigdio Canyon, a drop of over 2,500ft. We found indications of a use trail, seldom traveled and somewhat overgrown, that traversed the edge of this steep and slender ridge. We committed to the trail and it took us all the way down, though the going wasn't always easy.

Looking back up toward Eagle Rest from the descent ridge.

Lower San Emigdio Canyon, aka the Devils Kitchen.

Our route out and up to Pine Mountain Club, San Emigdio Canyon.

Eagle rest from a few feet above the canyon.

Once more my quads were sparking with complaint at the steep descent, but here we were at the bottom of it all with just 4.5 miles of hot, brushy canyon to go. We set off immediately and without preamble. After fighting through about a mile of chest high chamissa we heard water in the creek to our right. We broke right and took a good cool down on a shaded gravel bench next to a happy little creek. After another couple miles of arduous and brushy creek bed navigating we hit an old trail which climbed us the rest of the way out. Good day, tough but enjoyable. Recommended. 

Gratuitous old guy selfie. 

Native American Rock Art: Chimney Meadows, Lamont Meadows

Chimney Meadows.

Here are photos from two stops on an eventful day ranging from desolate deserts to mountain meadows. I went back to Jawbone Canyon and ruled out a hunch, and drove out to Walt Bickel's mining camp in the El Paso Range, but what I really wanted to see were a pair of rock art sites which can be accessed via the Chimney Peak Byway.

Hidden away near Chimney Meadows is a small rock art site. The paintings cling to the underside of a granite shelf which overhangs the paintings. The art is old and fading, much of it essentially gone. The photo below shows hints of a fading orange, though the other elements are strictly monochrome red. It's a neat site that offers deluxe views of the meadow and immediate access to Chimney Creek.

The second site is fairly well known. It is located in Lamont Meadows which lies below and downstream of Chimney Meadows. The art is displayed on the roof of a large granite overhang which is difficult and dangerous to get to (see caption below). There are about 20 individual monochrome red elements on this roof, all of them bearing a resemblance to other Kern County sites. I was intrigued by the art, the overhang, and it's inaccessibility. I am unused to being unable to climb up to a place so this circumstance left me a bit peeved. With a belay and rock shoes it would have been a breeze, but without the rope... too dicey for me.

The meadow complex up here was pretty, and made for a pleasant drive through towering peaks and piney forests. I'd like to complete the backcountry drive which continues from Chimney Meadows all the way down to and through Kennedy Meadows. That'd make for a really cool day behind the wheel.

Chimney Meadows.

The pictographs at Lamont Meadows. What sets these apart from many rock art sites is the inaccessibility. 

I was able to get up to the ledge just below the overhang with the paint, but beyond that I could not overcome my better judgement. A couple of very exposed 5th Class moves would have gotten me there but they were awkward, barn door moves with poor feet and a sloper top out, 30ft off the deck. There was another option, one which I think the natives used, but that was a sketchy series of no-hands traversing moves which today are obstructed by a complicating plant. Too risky. In the photos above and below you can see the pictographs on the roof of the overhang.

Off-Trail Over Lockwood Valley

Here's a fun filled off-trail excursion through the forests and gullies just above Lockwood Valley. This all started when a friend mentioned that he'd heard that a guy had found some arrowheads in a couple meadows somewhere south of Lilly Meadows. Looking further I figured out where this tale may have originated, got confirmation from the friend, plotted a route and took off for a look see. My plan started and ended at Camp 3 Falls (BSA Camp) in Lockwood. I planned to make a big loop, traveling up the trail toward Sheep Camp as far as Lilly Meadows, and from there I'd head south and west off-trail to see what was what and with luck, arrive safe and sound back at the BSA camp. Fun.

Detail of the loop route described in this post.

One of the waterfalls for which Camp 3 Falls is named, this one being the biggest. There's still water here, a persistent drizzle of about a half gallon per minute.

A short while before reaching Lilly I had a fun bear encounter. The trail where I met her passes through a steep and narrow ravine with nearly dry creek just off the left side of the trail. I was probably only 10-15 feet from her when we both got a little startled. She (I want to say the bear was a lady) jumped out of the creek and started climbing the steep and loose cliff opposite me. She was a glossy black beauty, large, a young adult. I've seen a lot of bears move faster than she did so I don't think she was particularly alarmed after the initial contact. She climbed up the cliff, breaking sticks and trundling down rocks, and from in the shade above where I took the photo (below) of her, she paused to take a look at me. After that I got to observe her traverse away from me across that same slope. She was my second bear sighting of the last month.

I asked her if she wanted to dance and she ran off. Click to enlarge.

Grouse Mountain from the saddle south of Lilly Meadows.

After the excitement I continued up to Lilly Meadows and turned due south from the campsite. I climbed up to a forested saddle and took stock of what I wanted to do. The view from here was unobstructed and I could see across the valley to Lockwood Peak, and further, to Thorn Point and Cedar Peak. Behind me was a nice view of Grouse Mountain. Below was a terrain of thickly forested ridges, and between those, a bewildering array of twisting ravines. I revisited my intended route and decided to do things a little differently, to try to maintain a position on the high ground and ridge tops instead of descending into the drainage below me. I figured that staying in the cedar and juniper up high wouldn't be so tough, and that if I descended right into those gullies I would be in the mix without any real view relative to landmarks. So, that being the plan I moved laterally from the saddle and made my way over to a tall and wavy ridge which descended in the direction I wanted to go. 

Land of the incense cedars.

A view south from high above Lockwood. Lockwood Peak is in the middle distance.

I selected the appropriate bear track and set off, descending through tall cedars, short manzanita, and scruffy junipers. The going was pretty easy but the forest was pretty thick at these lower elevations, which restricted visibility. Eventually I dropped off the ridge and continued down a narrow, twisting ravine. This gully terminated into a slightly larger drainage which came in from a different direction. These little gullies would have been pretty bewildering if I hadn't been solid on where I was going. I clambered over the umpteenth dead fallen cedar and stepped right onto a pile of bones, the nicely stacked remains of a mountain lion's supper. A short time later my gully met another, broad and forest hedged drainage. Here I turned a sharp right and started up this drain headed due west. Fifteen minutes later I stepped into a widening, grassy meadow. A dry watercourse ran through the middle of the meadow, and following that through this one led to another, larger meadow of the same sort, this one being even prettier. 

This has to be the tidiest cat kill I've ever run across.

The more southerly approach into the meadows on the western edge of my day.

In this westerly meadow I dropped pack in the shade of a massive cedar and had a little lunch. Tucking my pack behind my head I stretched out on the pine needles. A cool breeze rustled the pines, the sun beat down on the grassy lea, the birds were chirping and the cicadas sang their hypnotic, buzzing song. I fell asleep. And it was nice.

This is the first in a series of small, connected meadows. Ringed by old cedars, I can imagine that on a wetter year this place would be booming with wildflowers. Deer and bear sign were literally everywhere.

The meadows.

Later I took a different drainage which headed due east and back toward the Scout Camp. At a junction where another gully came in from the north I discovered the now familiar remains of a pot grow operation. I've seen too many of these damned places despoiling our forest. This one covered about 5 acres and had been well irrigated. The Ventura County Sheriffs Dept pulled the plants out last spring but left behind all the equipment and trash. I'm not sure why they left that stuff in the mountains, but I did mark the spot and made sure that the 3 Falls camp ranger is aware that all that crap is still up there. Maybe getting it out of there would be a good Eagle Project for an aspiring young man (hint, hint)[06/07/14 Craig Carey and Leo Genet will be organizing a clean-up including OA Scouts and the Camp Ranger].

I'm getting really sick of this bullshit and these people fucking up our woods. I'm sure there's more than a few Iraq/Afghanistan snipers out there looking for work. Maybe the government could start up a bounty program. You know what? Never mind. That's just me daydreaming.

The trash, hoses, fertilizers and rat poisons these assholes leave behind is harmful to the environment, not to mention the plant destruction and water diversion required to make a grow operation successful.

These tiered rows of micro drip water line covered two hillsides, roughly 5 acres of cultivation.

At the bottom of this drainage, just above where it meets back with the trail out of the Scout Camp, I encountered an interesting geological feature. Sharp pinnacles of black lava rock rose from the gully like pointy fangs. The gully twisted steeply through these towers. The rock was jagged and crumbly and unsuitable for a scrambling exploration but this feature was unique and different than any other rock I've seen in the SLP. All in all, it was a fun day. To top it off, I drove over to Grade valley and Mutau for a bit of late afternoon meditation.

Clidophleps vagans [desert cicada] {song}. They are swarming in the cedars right now. This little bastard tried to drill a hole in my finger while I took this photo

And here's a couple pretty views from Mutau Creek for you all. Mahalo.