It was eerily quiet high on the mountain. No birds chattered in the chaparral, and it was so still the mountain seemed to be holding its breath. Sometimes in cloud and sometimes in sun I made my way along the rocky ridge. Was I on the correct route? In the thick brush and towering rocks it was hard to tell.

Descending along a narrow, rubble strewn path, I stopped at the base of a rocky outcrop. An odd plant was growing on the steeply inclined face, and I climbed up to take a closer look.

The plant looked as if it belonged in the Triassic. Long tentacle-like stalks radiated menacingly from a central spiral of pointed, wedge shaped leaves. The outer leaves of the rosette were wilted and rusty, and the entire plant had the chalky appearance of something that was part alive, and part dead.

I couldn't quite see the structure of the flowers and leaned closer to take a photo. Suddenly...

This is the point in the story where the plant should grab me, or release a puff of toxic dust from its flowers, or do something equally malevolent. Not this time. But I can't think of a more bizarre looking plant than a chalk liveforever on a rocky outcrop in full bloom.

From Sunday's Clouds & Crags trail run.

Some related posts: Chalk Liveforever, Canyon Liveforever

An unusual spider web, and the spider that made it.

Also from Sunday's out and back run to Saddle Peak.

Notice anything peculiar about the Mountain Phlox (Phlox austromontana) in this photo?

Usually 5-lobed, several of the blossoms here have six lobes.

These are along the Cougar Crest Trail, near Big Bear Lake. The photo is from a couple of weeks ago, the day before doing the Holcomb Valley 33 mile Trail Run.

The Havasupai reportedly use a preparation made from the plant (externally) for body aches.

I found this and several other variable checkerspots (Euphydryas chalcedona) flittering about and feeding on golden yarrow along the Garapito Trail, on a recent run in the Santa Monica Mountains.

A closer look revealed an outlandish creature with black-spotted orange ladybug eyes, a bright orange spiked hairstyle, and a substantial spiraled trunk.

The "hair spikes" are part of the butterfly's sophisticated scent sensing system. They are probably used in combination with the antennae to provide a three dimensional olfactory picture of the butterfly's surroundings. This would help guide the butterfly to food or potential mates.

Butterflies are masters of low speed flight, and exploit several unusual mechanisms to generate aerodynamic lift. They are also opportunistic, and will take advantage of thermals and variations in the windfield to move from one place to another.

Several times when I've encountered a butterfly on a run, it has flown along with me for a surprising distance. I know that butterflies can be attracted by color, that's happened in my bright yellow kayak. But in this case I don't think it's color or coincidence. It seems to me the butterfly is surfing the wave of air pushed around me as I run, similar to the way a porpoise surfs the bow wave of boat.

Related posts: Sylvan Hairstreak, Western Tiger Swallowtail

This year's Kern River Festival had the best weather and water the event has seen for several years. Racers had a great flow for paddling the waterfalls, steep drops, and slides on Brush Creek; and boaters enjoyed paddling a challenging slalom course through the whitewater of Riverside Park in downtown Kernville.

A new event this year, the Hooligan Boat Race, was a spectator and participant favorite. Inspired by the event at the FIBArk River Festival, paddlers constructed their own boats out of "non-boat" materials and attempted to paddle their creations from upstream of the bridge in Kernville, down through the class II rapids in Riverside Park.

The photograph above is of "Al's Original Bucket Boat." Usually a bucket boat refers to a raft that isn't self-bailing, but in this case the boat is made of buckets, and the paddles from bucket lids.

As you might expect there were some outrageous designs, and not every boat made it to the finish line.

Next year the Hooligan Boat Race is expected to be even more popular. The Kern River Festival is held annually, the third weekend in April, in Kernville, California. In 2011 it is scheduled for April 16-17. (Easter is April 24, 2011.)

This time of year if you're running in Southern California's canyons and notice a subtle, pleasantly pungent, and slightly sweet fragrance wafting about the area, look around, poison oak is probably near.

The small, greenish, five-petaled blossoms generally hide under the "leaves of three" and are easy to miss.

From today's run in the Simi Hills.

Related post: Poison Oak

From this evening's run.

Trail runners, do you suffer the embarrassment of continually being passed on hills? Legs aren't what they used to be? You need the new Hill Climbing Helper®.

The Hill Climbing Helper's portability is the key! The Hill Climbing Helper® may look heavy, and it is, but that's part of the genius of its design.

• Can be used on all your favorite trail runs!
• Fits most hills!
• More effective than elliptical or stair-climbing machines!
• Increases safety. Eliminates fear of slipping or falling.

Includes 10 stairs and 2 hand rails. Constructed of the finest oil field steel - it will last for decades!

You'll notice the HCH difference on your first run!

(From today's run of the Las Llajas loop.)

Related post: Chumash-Las Llajas Loop

A high contrast study of the twists and turns of the disintegrating bole of a lodgepole pine on the slopes of Charlton Peak.

From the 26 mile San Gorgonio High Line trail run a couple of weeks ago.

From a run at Ahmanson Ranch earlier this week.

Almost incandescent in the soft light of an overcast sky, the remarkable color of this scrub oak apple gall contrasts sharply with the muted greens, grays and browns of the surrounding chaparral.

The gall forms in response to the larvae of the California gall wasp. The gall protects the developing larvae, as well as providing it a source of food.

On the right side of the gall there appears to be a "sun print" of an oak leaf in the red color, where a nearby leaf may have shielded the surface from sunlight.

From today's run on the Backbone Trail in the Santa Monica Mountains, near Saddle Peak.

It is everywhere.

From today's run in the Simi Hills, exactly as I found it, but not how I left it.

Part of the appeal of trail running is that even on a short weekday run, close to home, on a familiar trail, stuff happens.

The plan for today's trail run was a simple one -- run up and down the Chumash Trail in Rocky Peak Park. By the time we were done, a 5 mile run would morph into a loop of nearly 10 miles. We would encounter a rattlesnake and a longhorn bull, and we would run short on water. But we would also have a great run!

I've run in the Rocky Peak area for decades, and from time to time have encountered cattle near the end of Rocky Peak road. In recent years, the herd has been hanging out in the oil field and oaks between Las Llajas Canyon (near Poe Ranch) and a small mesa east of Rocky Peak road.

Seems to me most of the stock used to be Brahman, but these days there are many longhorns in the mix and according to an expert, these could be Longhorn, Corriente, or a Longhorn/Corriente cross.

When they heard us coming down the road most of the cattle just moved to another area -- except for the big guy in the title photo. He made it very clear that no one should be messing with his heifers. He was a little agitated. While he didn't charge us, it seemed possible he might. Avoiding any appearance of confrontation, we kept moving, and after a few moments were well away from the herd.

Here's a Google Earth browser view of a GPS trace of the Chumash - Las Llajas loop.

Some related posts: Chumash - Las Llajas Loop, Las Llajas Hill 2484, Exploring Las Llajas

Its menacing body glistening a deep iridescent blue, a tarantula hawk wasp feeds on the flowers of a narrow-leaf milkweed.

I haven't found these huge wasps to be particularly aggressive, but I'm not sure at what point a digital camera held inches from the alien-looking insect becomes a threat -- and I don't want to find out!

The following is from the paper Venom and the Good Life in Tarantula Hawks (Hymenoptera: Pompilidae): How to Eat, Not be Eaten, and Live Long:

"Tarantula hawks produce large quantities of venom and their stings produce immediate, intense, excruciating short term pain in envenomed humans. Although the instantaneous pain of a tarantula hawk sting is the greatest recorded for any stinging insect, the venom itself lacks meaningful vertebrate toxicity. ...the defensive value of stings and venom of these species is based entirely upon pain. This pain confers near absolute protection from vertebrate predators."

Shudder...

While photographing the wasp, I also took this short HD video. From a run earlier this week at Sage Ranch Park.

Related post: Tarantula Hawk

As found on Sunday's run at Sage Ranch Park.

The thing about a dangerous situation is that you almost never see it coming. In an instant a pleasant adventure can turn really serious. We were in the San Gabriel Mountains about 2 miles down the little used South Fork Trail, and 20 minutes from Islip Saddle, when my running partner shouted, "Do you see that!"

From the tone of her voice I knew it was something serious. My first thought was a mountain lion, but then I saw it -- a bear cub clinging to a tree on the trail ahead. Sh*&! How many times had I told friends that I didn't worry too much about black bears, "unless, of course, it's a mother with her cubs."

Where was Mom? She had heard us coming down the trail, but apparently only had enough time to send her cub up the tree, and take cover. Not good, and potentially very dangerous. We couldn't see Mom, we couldn't hear Mom, but knew she was nearby. Most likely she was in the thick brush on the steep slope below the trail.

Suddenly, the cub scurried higher in the tree, its long claws digging noisily into the bark of the tree. That's when we saw that there were two cubs! The noise startled me, and I wondered if Mom -- wherever she was -- would react.

After a quick assessment, we walked quietly by the tree, and in a second or two started to jog. In a matter of seconds we were out of danger. It was fortunate that there were two of us and we were relatively noisy. A solo runner would have almost certainly surprised the mother with her cubs.

After a time the adrenalin subsided, and the rest of the run went very well. Temps were not quite as hot as expected on the low part of the course, and were pleasantly cool on Mt. Baden-Powell. Both the South Fork Trail and Manzanita Trail had been recently maintained. Some slides and washouts remain, but these are an integral part of the adventure and character of this trail run.

Update October 8, 2009. Here's a video of the cubs and Mom taken a couple of months after our encounter. The cubs have grown! It's from Cougarmagic.com, a video blog with fascinating footage of mountain lions, bears, deer, bobcats, foxes and other animals found in the mountains near Los Angeles.

More info about the approximately 23.5 mile course can be found in the post Islip Saddle - Mt. Baden-Powell South Fork Loop.

Related post: Wally Waldron Lodgepole Pine

From a run at Sage Ranch earlier this Summer.

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 drifted to sleep on the distant, interleaving harmonies of a Catholic Mass sung in the native Quechua language -- far from home, but not very far from the nearest boombox, and the influence of Michael Jackson.

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

Technorati Tags: michael jackson, trail running, Peru, adventure travel

Exactly as I found it on my run at Ahmanson today. Looked like a fairly new running shoe.

There is nothing quite so compelling as an unanswered question.

Several years ago, in the middle of a trail run, an unusually shaped rock formation caught my eye. After a little bushwhacking and exploration, I found a way to climb the formation, and on its summit found a small pictograph. I wondered if there might be other pictographs in the area, and on the way back to the trail found the inscription pictured above.

Later, I took a friend with more ethnographic experience to the top of the rock, and it was his opinion that the pictograph, as well as the nearby inscription, were not of modern origin. He also mentioned that the rock likely marked the point on the southeastern horizon where the sun rises on the Winter Solstice, as seen from a Chumash shrine several miles away.

The pictograph on the solstice rock appears to have been painted using an ochre pigment, which may have been mixed in an adjacent cupule. It is in a harsh environment, fully exposed to the sun, wind and rain. It's my guess that the white "alignment" reticule surrounding the pictograph is an unfortunate recent addition.

The petroglyph is in a concavity on the north side of a large boulder, and is better protected. That the drawing appears to be astronomical in nature, and is adjacent to a rock possibly used to mark the Winter solstice is probably not a coincidence.

To speculate on the purpose and meaning of such a drawing is to travel in time, and through the thoughts and eyes of another, visit a world far different than our own.

In this case that someone was probably an 'alchuklash -- an astronomer-priest-shaman who was a part of a religious-spiritual cult known as the 'antap -- a pervasive power elite within Chumash society.

The 'alchuklash were adept astronomers, not only observing the Winter and Summer Solstices, but the moon, individual stars, asterisms, constellations, planets, Milky Way, eclipses and more. The observation and interpretation of the Upper World were an integral part of the Chumash cultural and world view.

But the Upper World did not exist on its own. The Chumash appreciated and celebrated the interdependency of Nature, and events in the Upper and Lower Worlds were inexorably tied to those in the Middle World of everyday existence. Using their specialized knowledge, the 'antap facilitated communication and interaction between these worlds to the benefit, or peril, of the People.

It is in this context that in the drawing I see the powerful personage of an 'alchuklash, who has reached into the Upper World. Perhaps the drawing is a commemoration of the power of the place. Perhaps it is a kind of owner's manual, a premodern PDF, illustrating the purpose of the solstice rock. Or, perhaps it is something we cannot know.

Note: The contrast of the lines in the image has been increased to make them easier to see. In the ten years since I first photographed the etching, some detail has been lost in the lower right corner of the drawing. This image is from April 21, 2009.

Reference: Crystals in the Sky: An Intellectual Odyssey Involving Chumash Astronomy, Cosmology, and Rock Art. Travis Hudson and Ernest Underhay (Foreword by Anthony F. Aveni and illustrated by Campbell Grant). Socorro, New Mexico: Ballena Press Anthropological Papers No. 10, 1978, 163 pp.

Technorati Tags: Chumash, petroglyph, pictograph, rock art, solstice, astronomy, ethnography, shaman

I glanced at my watch -- 5.25 miles. Clouds and fog had kept temps on the cool side for more than three-quarters of the Bulldog climb, but the sun was finally breaking through. Even though temps were down a few degrees, the long climb had still been grueling. The runner next to me was breathing heavily, and I mentally repeated my Bulldog mantra -- don't redline, don't redline.

For many of us, that's the problem with Bulldog -- some of it is runnable and some of it isn't. For the moment I was running, but I knew the grade well, and just ahead the fire road switchbacked right, and steepened.

I've been over the "I can run this hill no matter what" thing for a long time. For me, and the majority of trail runners, walking the steeps is a good thing. The little bit of time lost by walking is generally made up -- and more -- on other sections of the course.

Rounding a corner, the grade did steepen, and I slowed and started to walk. Taking advantage of the slow pace, I ate a Gu, took a Salt Stick cap, and gulped down some Gatorade. Another runner and I had been swapping leads up the hill, and he passed me -- again. As he increased his lead, I wondered if I should be pushing a little harder.

A left turn never felt so good! A few minutes before I had reached the top of Bulldog grade, and the highest point on the course. Now gravity was on my side, and I was enjoying the downhill. There were more challenges ahead, but for now I was lost in the moment -- savoring the wind in my face, the far reaching views along the rocky crest, and that wonderful feeling of being a runner.

Here's a Google Earth browser view of a GPS trace of the 22K course with my half-mile splits. (Generated in SportTracks.) See the XTERRA Malibu Creek Challenge web site for race results and additional info.

Some related posts: Malibu Creek State Park Shadow & Sun, Fog Along Malibu Creek, Bulldog Loop and the Corral Fire, Rock Formations Along the Backbone Trail

One of the more unusual watercraft at the 2009 Kern River Festival was Dan Gavere's ULI inflatable stand up paddleboard.

Dan finished second in the 2.5 mile Downriver race, and made all the gates in the Slalom event!

Part of the fun of running trails is the challenge of overcoming obstacles that may block your progress. These can range from fallen trees and swollen streams, to rattlesnakes and rockslides -- or as was the case yesterday on Lasky Mesa in Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve, the occasional stray truck.

The truck was part of a assemblage of vehicles associated with a production company. The Ahmanson Ranch area is favored for film production, and classics such as Gone with the Wind, They Died With Their Boots On, The Charge of the Light Brigade, The Thundering Herd, and Duel in the Sun were filmed here. More recently, the bridge scene in Mission Impossible III was shot here.

After a nostalgic hike to the bottom of Switzer Falls, drove to Islip Saddle to check out the snow conditions. Clouds ahead of Sunday's storm prompted a short run along Kratka Ridge to photograph some of the stunted sugar pines. Here's the unaltered version of the title image.

As we've seen this Winter, it is the norm for Southern California's weather to be abnormal. Cool, wet weather in December was followed by weeks of warm, dry weather in January. It is hard to predict when it will be wet and when it will be dry. Especially if you are a plant.

This photograph of a shooting star (Dodecatheon clevelandii ssp. patulum) is from early February, when the weather was dry. Droplets of moisture can be seen clinging to the interior walls of the seed capsules. These climate moderated capsules helps ensure that the plant will produce viable seeds, even if an extended period of dry weather should occur after the plant blooms.

More delicate than the finest holiday crystal, the leaf segments of this coffee fern (Pellaea andromedifolia) are covered in tiny spherical water droplets. The largest of these droplets is about the size of the head of a pin, the smallest perhaps the size of a grain of salt.

Initially green, coffee fern turns various shades of red, brown, or purple with age.

From a run in the Boney Mountain Wilderness in Pt. Mugu State Park on Saturday.

Some related posts: T-storms and Trail Work, Return to Hidden Pond

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.

For a compilation of some of the best birding blogs, and more stories about birds, see the 100th edition of the blog carnival "I and the Bird."

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!

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.

This type of frost - hollow columnar hoarfrost - is described in STUDIES OF FROST AND ICE CRYSTALS by W.A. Bentley, in the Monthly Weather Review, Volume 35, Issue 9 (September 1907), pp. 397-403. Here is an excerpt:

"When formed in the open, they are essentially mild-weather types. They are most common to early autumn and late spring, and the hoarfrost that collects upon the plants and grasses during the so-called destructive frosts at those dates is almost invariably of this type. Hoarfrost deposits of this character form in the open during calm, clear nights when the surface air temperatures range from 56 degrees to 40 degrees at nightfall, and from 33 degrees to 25 degrees during the latter part of the night or early morning."

Here is a graph of weather data recorded by the Mill Creek (ANF) RAWS on December 1 and December 2. The elevation of the station is 3510' and it is about 8.5 miles from Fox Mountain (5033'). Parameters graphed are the hourly average wind speed, air temperature, fuel temperature, relative humidity, and dew point.

At Mill Creek the fuel temperature dropped below the frost point at 10:00 p.m Saturday, and did not exceed the frost point again until 8:00 a.m Sunday. For a 5 hour period from 2:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. the mean air temperature was 30°F-31°F and the fuel temperature was 22°F-23°F -- suggesting strong radiative cooling. Similar conditions probably produced the frost on Fox Mountain.

Image of Comet Holmes 17/P taken in the light pollution of the San Fernando Valley, near Los Angeles. It was photographed through the eyepiece of a 5 in. telescope (SCT) using one of my "running" cameras -- a 10 Mp compact digital.

An exposure of 60 seconds was used. The raw format image was pushed 2.5 stops and the tone curve adjusted in Adobe Camera Raw to bring out detail in the diffuse outer coma of the comet. The image was flipped so that it is not reversed and is upright.

The comet's nucleus is at about 8:00 o'clock, near the head of the more dense and bright inner coma. A hint of a tail can be seen projecting in the 2:00 o'clock direction. The tail of the comet isn't more obvious because from Earth we're seeing the comet almost head-on.

This illustration, generated using Starry Night Pro, shows the position of Comet Holmes 17/P on 11/13/07 - beyond the orbit of Mars - and its relationship to the Earth, Sun and the plane of the solar system. This NASA/JPL Java applet can also be used to show the orbit of the comet. (Use the scroll bars to change the orientation.)

Search Comet Holmes 17/P on Google for more info.

From a run at Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve (formerly Ahmanson Ranch).

The bright orange-red coloration of these immature large milkweed bugs (Oncopeltus fasciatus) is a warning to predators that they taste bad. Like monarch butterflies, they concentrate foul-tasting compounds from the narrow-leaf milkweed (Asclepias fascicularis) in their bodies.

Following several instars (molts), the nymph is transformed into the adult insect.

The photograph is from a run at Sage Ranch on July 23, 2007.

From Sunday's Cheeseboro Bound run. Exactly as found.

From a showery, twilight run in the Simi Hills.

Glistening in the morning sun, the wet trunk of a manzanita glows in iridescent shades of orange and red, pink and purple. Decorated with raindrops, the chaparral, and all within, breathe a deep sigh of relief. It has rained!

Prior to Saturday night's storm Los Angeles had recorded only 0.5 inch of rain in the last six months. Even by Southern California's arid standards, this is a meager amount.

Usually when there's an El Niño, wet Winter weather can be expected to develop in Southern California. But this year's El Niño has been a little quirky, developing later than usual, and becoming stronger than expected. So far this Autumn, the weather here has been somewhat quirky as well, with record setting high temperatures and below average rainfall. An El Niño, even a strong one, does not guarantee wet weather in our area. Whether or not the usual El Niño impacts eventually develop, we'll just have to see.

Another system is expected to produce some rain in Southern California this weekend, but in the last couple of days the computer weather models have been backing off the rainfall amounts. This morning's computer-based precipitation forecasts are nearly dry. Given the difficulty the models have had with this system, and the long fetch of moisture over the Pacific, maybe the forecast will change. For additional info about the El Niño and Southern California weather, check out my Southern California Weathernotes web site.

The manzanita photograph is from the Reseda to Trippet Ranch run described in my previous post, Musch Trail Mule Deer.

Fanged and clawed, death waits,
On a highland of lavender, near a saffron spire.

The silhouette of a crab spider on the petal of a back lit Purple nightshade (prob. Solanum xanti). The blossom is about 0.8 inch (~20 mm) wide, which would make the span of the spider's crab-like grasping forelegs about 0.25 inch (~7 mm). From a run at Sage Ranch Park on November 2, 2006.

Note: This is not a photo of Deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna).

Technorati Tags: poetry, spider

Tahquitz Peak Historic Fire Lookout

The intimidating canyon rose steeply above me. Towering rock precipices lined the canyon walls, their summits glistening in the morning sun. I was at an elevation of about 2600' and it was already warm. A little unsteady, and moving slowly at first, I started the ascent. Gaining speed, I passed the first rock face, and after a minute or two, turned to gaze at Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley. In what seems like a matter of minutes, yucca and cresote transitioned to mountain mahogany and juniper, and then to pine and fir. Suddenly my pace slows, there is a bump, a jostle, and a pause. The operator announces, "Welcome to the mountain station of the Palm Springs Tram. The elevation is 8516'..."

A 10 minute ride from the desert to the pines on the Palm Springs Tram isn't a bad way to start a run. A couple of weeks before I had seen Mt. San Jacinto from the North Backbone Trail and it reminded me that I hadn't done that peak in a while. As the weekend approached it looked like the weather would be perfect for a long mountain run.

Mt. San Jacinto State Park and Wilderness contains a network of over 50 miles of trails, including a segment of the Pacific Crest Trail. The resourceful runner or hiker can put together an adventure ranging from a few miles to 30 miles or more. I hoped to beat the worst of the Sunday going home traffic, so opted for an approximately 20 mile route that would get me back to the tram in the early afternoon.

Stopping at the ranger station in Long Valley, I filled out a wilderness permit. Cool air had pooled in the valley overnight, and the deck of the station was still in shade. The ballpoint pen protested the 40-something degree temperature, but with repeated attempts, I scratched in my destinations: Mt. San Jacinto and Tahquitz Peak.

My route would take me to the summit of Mt. San Jacinto (10,834'), back down to the junction at Wellmans Divide, and then continue down to the Pacific Crest Trail. The PCT would be followed through Saddle Junction to the junction with the South Ridge Trail, and then continue on this trail to the historic fire lookout on Tahquitz Peak. I would return to Long Valley via Skunk Cabbage Meadow and Hidden Divide. Here's a Google Earth image and Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of the route.

The run and the running were outstanding – a blue skies and sunshine kind of day, with Autumn shadows, light winds, pleasant temperatures, and nearly unlimited visibility. Much of route was through spectacular old-growth forests of Jeffrey Pine, Lodgepole Pine and White Fir. The uphills were generally very well graded, with long runnable sections. And the downhills – ah the downhills – some rocky and technical, and some that make you feel as if you're blazing down the trail on a Star Wars speeder bike.

The lookout on Tahquitz Peak is a can't miss destination. On the way, there are superb views of Tahquitz and Suicide rocks, and from the summit there are expansive views in nearly all directions. Palomar Mountain can be seen about 30 miles to the south, Saddleback about 50 miles to the west, and Mt. Baldy and its neighbors about 65 miles to the northwest. Much closer are the slopes leading to Jean Peak and the summit area of San Jacinto.

The lookout operated continuously from 1917-1993, and is listed in the National Historic Lookout Register. It reopened in 1998 and is manned by volunteer Fire Lookout Hosts.

Walking up the stairs in the mountain station, I glance at my watch. It's 2:00 p.m.and the next tram is just about to depart. I'm back to my car and headed down the hill by 2:30, but it's still not early enough to miss the traffic on I-10.

Related post: Skiing San Jacinto, Autumn Trail Running on Mt. San Jacinto

(Also see Manzanita, Ice and Clouds, The Shovel, and Mt. San Jacinto Summit Hut on SierraPhotography.com.)

Mt. Baldy's North Backbone Trail is not a place to be in a thunderstorm. From start to finish it seems you are either on the crest of a ridge, or on or near the summit of a peak.

The photo above is of a spiral lightning scar on a Jeffrey Pine on the trail at the summit of peaklet marked 8555 on the USGS Mount San Antonio quad. The scar appears to be fresh, and could be from a strike that occurred this Summer. Perhaps the most remarkable thing, given the tree's prominent location, is that it hasn't been struck and scarred before.

The photographs are from Sunday's North Backbone Trail Revisited hike and run. A photograph of another Jeffrey pine that was struck by lightning can be found in the post Three Points - Mt. Waterman Loop.

Technorati Tags: lightning, Jeffrey Pine, lightning tree, North Backbone Trail, Mt. Baldy

A crop circle, Simi Valley style, from the Hummingbird Trail.

A totaled vehicle is an odd thing to find on a section of trail seemingly well away from any road.  In this case, Angeles Crest Highway (Hwy 2) is nearly out of sight and about a half mile up a very rough canyon. (Photo from October 23, 2005.)

Snow highlights skeletal fingers of chaparral burned in the 2003 Simi Fire. From the Chumash Trail in the eastern Simi Valley. More info and a couple of additional photos can be found in my Coyote Oak Journal entry Chaparral Snow.