From Sunday's run to Mt. Abel and back from Mt. Pinos in Los Padres National Forest.

Ka-ree... Ka-ree... Ka-ree...

I heard the angry cries at least a quarter-mile away. The screams were incessant. Running along the dirt road, I emerged from a grove of oaks and turned west -- running down a short hill and then up another. Cresting the rise, I paused to search the parched terrain.

The Winter rain season had been the driest on record, and Summer heat was now oppressive, abusing the animals and desiccating the chaparral. A few clouds cluttered the sky, but they would bring no rain. The cries continued.

Ka-ree... Ka-ree... Ka-ree...

The screams seemed to be coming from a group of rocks and oak trees near the campground. I left the road and slowly walked through the brush in the direction of the shrill shrieks. As I approached, the intensity and urgency of the screams increased. Intimidated, I stopped.

KA-REE... KA-REE... KA-REE...

There was not only fury in those cries, but a warning.

To my left, something stirred. Slowly I turned and looked down. For a moment I just stared. Rabbit lay face-down against a rock, twitching. Up in the oak tree, Hawk continued his irate cries.

KA-REE... KA-REE... KA-REE...

Suddenly, there was motion to my right, and Bobcat bolted from the brush. Hawk swooped in pursuit. His broad tail flared and wings twisted one direction and then another, as he followed the abrupt zigs and zags of Bobcat through the rocks, up the hill, and out of view.

KA-REE... KA-REE... Ka-ree... ka-ree...

Afterward: This encounter occurred during a run at Sage Ranch Park in July of 2002. I continued my run, and when I returned about 30-40 minutes later, the rabbit was gone. The photographs were taken during the encounter.

One hundred degrees
A willowed stream
Late afternoon sun
And linear green.

Study of cattail leaves in afternoon sun.

From a run to Las Virgenes Creek from the Victory trailhead of Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve (formerly Ahmanson Ranch).

An unusual, offset lightning scar on a Jeffrey pine in the San Gabriel Mountains, near Los Angeles. The tree is located at an elevation of about 8750', on the ridge east of Mt. Hawkins.

The offset scar is not easily explained. Either the scar was offset when created, became offset as the tree aged, or perhaps multiple strikes have somehow created the appearance of an offset. None of these explanations seem completely satisfactory.

The lightning scar on the Mt. Hawkins tree appears to be older than the scar on the Jeffrey pine on the Three Points - Twin Peaks Saddle trail, and quite a bit older than the scar on the Jeffrey pine on Mt. Baldy's North Backbone Trail.

Technorati Tags: lightning

There are some imperfections, but generally the unopened disk florets comprising the head of this immature sneezeweed blossom are arranged so that each floret is surrounded by six other florets. This is an example of hexagonal close packing, and is probably the most dense arrangement of florets that can be achieved in this spherical flower head.

The photograph of the Bigelow's sneezeweed (Helenium bigelovii) was taken on an out and back run on the Pacific Crest Trail from Vincent Gap to Little Jimmy Spring during July 2007.

Related post: Bigelow's Sneezeweed & Bee

Without a doubt the Chumash Trail is my favorite short "after work" trail run. Popular among hikers, mountain bikers, and runners, the Chumash Trail starts on Flanagan Drive in the eastern Simi Valley, and ascends the convoluted western flank of Rocky Peak Park to Rocky Peak Fire Road. It's single track trail all the way, gaining about 1150' over 2.6 miles.

From a trail runner's training perspective, it is a nearly ideal short, technical, higher heart rate workout. Overall, it's very runnable. When I'm chugging up the trail, it seems just about the time my heart rate is going to go lactic, the trail will back off or contour. Because I usually run the trail near my aerobic maximum, it's a great indicator of where I am in my training. Over-training, or any other fitness issue, is usually plainly -- and sometimes painfully -- evident.

In many ways running down the Chumash Trail is more difficult than running up.  It can be very challenging to run down a rocky, technical section of trail with any speed. Running a trail like the Chumash Trail can help develop the skill and strength necessary to do downhills with better technique and more speed.

I don't think I've ever run this trail fresh, but a couple times a year, when my legs feel good, it's fun to really push the Chumash Trail up and down. Like most running, there's a balance -- push too hard on the up and there won't be enough left to push the down.

Here's a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the trail.

The photograph for today's post was taken near the top of the Chumash Trail in March 2006. You won't find any of that white stuff on the trail today, but just the thought might help deal with the heat!

Some related posts: Chumash-Las Llajas Loop, Chumash View, Chumash View II, Tarantula Hawk, Canyon Sunflower, Eastwood Manzanita, Chumash Trail Snow

Was that a snake on the trail ahead?

It was a snake -- a pretty big one -- stretched across two-thirds of the road.

I slow, stop running, and then walk carefully toward it. The snake is dead still. A confounding series of thoughts follow in quick succession.

Looks like it's probably a gopher snake... Glance at the tail -- no rattles. Check the head -- where's the head? Check the tail again -- definitely no rattles. It is a gopher snake. Look for the head again -- did the snake get run over, or decapitated?

At least 30 seconds have passed and the snake has not moved -- not a millimeter. Very weird. Is it dead? It doesn't look dead. There's no blood.

Realization dawns as I comprehend the snake may be caught in the entrance to a small burrow.

Com'on, stuck? If so, it's in a bad place. Pick your peril: Upper Las Virgenes Canyon is hiked, biked, ridden on horseback, roamed by coyotes, and hunted by hawks.

Now it's been a couple of minutes, and the snake still has not moved. I'm beginning to think maybe it is dead. So I touch it.

Panic! The snake writhes, contorts and convulses in an attempt to free itself. No go -- it continues to convulse, and then suddenly, and impossibly, slithers down the hole.

What? My guess is that the snake had found a lizard, mouse, or other prey in the hole, started to swallow it, and with its body engorged, became trapped by its meal. Or maybe it just got stuck!

Our stopover at the Peruvian highland village of Tinqui was one of many memorable experiences on my running trip to Peru. At 12,400', Tinqui is the trailhead for the Ausangate Circuit -- an adventurous route around Mt. Ausangate that crosses two 16,500' passes.

A 4-5 hour bus ride from Cusco, Tinqui is pleasantly remote and rustic. We arrived on a Sunday afternoon, and after getting settled into our hostel, walked down the dusty main street to the market. Music and laughter erupted from a nearby crowd...

"She told me her name was billie jean, as she caused a scene
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round"

Boombox at his side, a blue-jeaned and baseball-capped performer treated the crowd to his best Michael Jackson.

Later that evening, breathing deeply and thinking of the run ahead, I would drift to sleep on the brittle, interleaving harmonies of a Catholic Mass sung in the native Quechua language -- far from home, but not very far from the nearest boombox.

Related posts: Peru Running, Runner on Circuit of Mt. Ausangate

Technorati Tags: trail running, Peru, adventure travel

A red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) shows his bright red shoulder epaulets in a territorial display called the song-spread.

From an afternoon run at Ahmanson Ranch -- now Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve.

From a late afternoon trail run along Las Virgenes Creek in late November 2007.

Those of us in the northern hemisphere that enjoy afternoon daylight are celebrating the passing of the dank days of Autumn when sunset occurs the earliest in the day. Depending on your location, the amount of afternoon daylight may already be increasing -- be it ever so modest.

According to the Astronomical Applications Dept. of the U. S. Naval Observatory, in Los Angeles that day is today, December 11, when the sunset shifts from 4:44 p.m. to 4:45 p.m.

The more northerly your latitude, the later the date. In Miami it was back on December 4, and in Seattle it will be on December 18. In Anchorage it won't be until December 20. Barrow, Alaska won't see a sunset (or sunrise) until January 23!

You can check your city's sunset times using the USNO Sun or Moon Rise/Set Table.

When I see crystals of hoar frost sparkle in the Winter sun it triggers a child-like awe. On Sunday's Condor Peak Trail Run, several sections of trail glittered as we ran into a low morning sun. On the cold east face of Fox Mountain, a fine, needle-like frost coated the edges and surfaces of leaves and twigs that had collected in pockets on the steep slope.

Digitally magnifying a small section of a 10 Mp image revealed that the frost is comprised of  hollow columns, and further magnification shows that the columns are hexagonal, with lengthwise facets.