If you spend much time in the mountains, sooner or later you're going to get caught in a severe thunderstorm. I don't mean you're going to hear a little thunder and get a little wet. I mean you're going to find yourself in the middle of a heart pounding, ear splitting, ozone smelling, sense numbing storm that drenches you through and through and wrings the nerves from your body.

Having been caught in such thunderstorms while climbing in Yosemite, running in the San Gabriels, and running at Mt. Pinos, I do my best to avoid the beasts. Sometimes, it is not an easy thing to do.

Introduced around 2000, the Garmin eTrex was the first GPS unit I used to trace a trail run. The GPS tracks were imported into TOPO! where the length of a run could be measured, an elevation profile generated, and the topography of the run examined.

Since the eTrex was designed to be used in an "orienteering" position -- flat in your hand in front of your body -- it would frequently have trouble receiving GPS satellite signals if hand-carried while running or hiking. About the time enterprising hikers and runners began to resolve this issue with creative hats, holsters and harnesses, Garmin released the Forerunner 201, greatly simplifying the task of tracing a route.

In 2005, while preparing a presentation about kayaking Piru Creek for a meeting with the Forest Service, I stumbled onto Keyhole.com. To say I was blown away by this bit of "Eureka" technology would be an a gross understatement. Now, in addition to seeing Piru Creek in photographs, and on a topo map, you could get a "before you paddle" preview using Keyhole -- even if you couldn't paddle class IV whitewater! Google acquired Keyhole in late 2004 and launched Google Earth on June 28, 2005.

Shortly after Google Earth was launched, SportTracks added the ability to launch Google Earth and view the GPS trace of a run or other activity. Since SportTracks could also directly import data from Garmin's Forerunner, the software made it very easy to view a run in Google Earth.

I've been working on updating the posts on Photography on the Run that reference a trail run to include a link to a Google Earth KMZ file. A KMZ file is just a zipped KML file, and either can be opened in Google Earth. A list of the trail runs with KMZ file links can be found by clicking "Google Earth KMZ Files of Trail Runs" in the sidebar.

These are actual tracks recorded by a GPS during a trail run and may contain GPS errors, route-finding errors, and wanderings that are difficult to explain. In a few instances tracks have been modified to correct errors, or to remove side excursions that are not part of the usual route, but not all errors have been corrected. No claim is being made regarding the appropriateness or suitability of the routes indicated. The GPS devices used to record these tracks include the Garmin Forerunner 201, Foretrex 201 and Forerunner 205; and the GlobalSat GH-615B.

It isn't unusual for snow to persist on New Army Pass (12,300') well into July. Strong northwest winds, following in the wake of blustery Winter storms, blow freshly fallen snow over the crest and into this cirque, forming cornices along its lip, and dense slabs of wind-ground snow in it's lee.

That's why the July 1 Sequoia & Kings Canyon National Park Trail Conditions report for New Army Pass seemed plausible. It read, "The top of the pass has an 30 foot snow wall - ice axe recommended."

The reported trail conditions are a compilation of reports from the field, and are not always up-to-date. Having been over the pass a number of times, and in a variety of conditions, I thought that we would probably be able to bypass any remaining patches of snow without needing an ice axe. Worst case, if the pass looked dicey, we could use Cirque Peak or some other alternative route to attain the crest.

We need not have worried. While there was snow in the cirque, and in a couple of places along the trail near the top of the pass, the trail was completely clear. Even so, it was a good excuse to do the 21 mile Cottonwood loop counterclockwise -- the reverse of my usual circuit -- climbing up New Army Pass from the Cottonwood Lakes side, and then running down into Rock Creek basin.

Now that I've done the loop in both directions, I think I prefer the clockwise circuit. The 9 miles of running from New Army Pass down through the Cottonwood Lakes basin is generally better than the running down from Chicken Spring Lake and Cottonwood Pass. Also, there's more downhill on some sandy sections of trail between Chicken Spring Lake and Rock Creek. The tradeoff is you give up the nice downhill into Rock Creek basin, and near the end of the loop have a mile or so of annoying uphill.

Here's a Google Earth image, Google Earth KMZ file, and an elevation profile of a GPS trace of the route. (The elevation profile was generated using SportTracks.)

Related posts: Cottonwood - New Army Pass Loop, Mt. Langley in a Day from L.A.

We were making good progress up the gargantuan north face of University Peak (13,632'), climbing carefully and doing our best not to knock loose rocks down on each other's heads. We were also doing our best to ignore the gathering clouds -- and the unnerving rumble of distant thunder.

Yes, it would have been better to sleep at the trailhead and get an early start. Especially with a 20% chance of isolated thunderstorms in the forecast. But we didn't. When we should have been taking our first steps on the Kearsarge Pass trail we were eating breakfast burritos in Mojave. So it goes.

Now we were about half way up the 2200' class 2-3 face, and it would take another hour of climbing to reach the summit. That would put us on the summit right around the time of maximum daytime heating -- a bad time to top out if you're trying to avoid a thunderstorm.

Off to the northwest there was another long, rolling, rumble of thunder. Streamers of rain could be seen twining from darkening clouds. Smoke from one or more of California's many fires hung in the valleys to the west of the crest, producing an unnatural and eerie mixture of clouds, smoke, rain, and orange tinted terrain.

We paused in a jumble of broken blocks of granite, hemming and hawing, and otherwise hesitating to make THE decision to descend. Avoiding the issue and pondering the sky, we wondered which fire the smoke was coming from, and -- half in jest -- whether the smoke could have seeded and enhanced the thunderstorm we were watching. Those questions, it turns out, had surprising answers.

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

From another excursion up and over Kearsarge Pass.

Poised on a glacial bench a dozen miles west, and few thousand feet above Independence, California, Onion Valley is the starting point for many a Sierra adventure. Kearsarge Pass provides relatively quick and easy access to the heart of the Sierra, and the more technical passes south and north of Kearsarge can be used by mountaineers to access peaks along the crest, or basins on the west side of the crest.

It is an area that is dramatically alpine, and I have returned again and again to climb peaks such as Independence Peak and University Peak and to hike, run and explore. One Summer Phil Warrender and I did a trans-Sierra hike that started here and took us over University Pass, Andy's Foot Pass (13,600'), Milly's Foot Pass, Longley Pass and Sphinx Pass, ending at Cedar Grove. We went superlight (about 15 lb. packs w/o ice axe), did as much cross-county as possible, and climbed a few peaks along the way.

Today Miklos, Krisztina and I were doing a reconnaissance hike/run up and over Kearsarge Pass, and down into the Kearsarge - Bullfrog - Charlotte Lakes basin, and back. The idea was to pick a time when the Kearsarge Pass trail would be mostly free of snow, but when much of the surrounding terrain would still be accented in white.

What a day! Perfect temps, little wind, excellent trail conditions, super scenery, and absolutely outstanding trail running.

Here are a few photographs:

Big Pothole Lake from the east side of Kearsarge Pass. Nameless Pyramid (right) and University Peak (left) on the skyline.

View west from Kearsarge Pass over Kearsarge Lakes and Pinnacles to Mt. Brewer (left), North Guard (middle) and Mt. Francis Farquhar (right) on the skyline.

Kearsarge Lakes and Pinnacles from the north.

Miklos and Krisztina above Bullfrog Lake. East Vidette is the prominent conic peak. Deerhorn Mountain is at the head of the recess to the right of East Vidette.

Scrambling above the John Muir Trail about a mile from Glen Pass. Charlotte Dome is in the distance.

Here's a Google Earth image and a Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of our route.

Bumblebee on Kotolo milkweed. From a run on Lasky Mesa in Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve (formerly Ahmanson Ranch).

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!

Prickly poppy (Argemone munita) in upper Cheeseboro Canyon.

From today's run of the Cheeseboro Canyon keyhole loop, starting from the Victory trailhead of Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve (formerly Ahmanson Ranch).

Here's a Google Earth image of a GPS trace of the loop, and links to trail maps for Upper Las Virgenes Open Space Preserve and Cheeseboro/Palo Comado Canyons.

Often described as the largest and tallest of the pines, Sugar pine can grow to heights of 150 feet or more. According to the National Register of Big Trees, the current U.S. champion sugar pine measures 209 ft. tall, with a spread of 59 ft.

The sugar pine pictured above is only a fraction of this size -- at first glance it looks like the tree has been topped. Its reduced height is due to the harsh environment in which it grows. Sugar pine and Jeffrey pine found on the higher windswept ridges and mountain tops of the San Gabriel Mountains (and other ranges) are often stunted in this manner.

Research suggests that a number of factors contribute to this adaptation. Foremost among these factors is wind. A tree will respond to a windy environment by increasing the diameter of its trunk, and reducing its height. Water stress is another key factor. Shallow granular soil, low humidity, increased radiation, hot summers and cold winters increase water stress; and a windy environment will amplify the stress.

In such a demanding environment everything matters -- snow deposition patterns, aerodynamic effects, competition with brush, subtle differences in slope aspect, mechanical damage, damage from pests, and more.

The photograph of the sugar pine is from the Pleasant View Ridge Snow run in May.

A good way to think of this adventure is as an excellent 17 mile trail run on the PCT north from Walker Pass (5217'), combined with a three mile scramble up and down the rocky southwest ridge of Owens Peak (8453').

Based on the expanse of granite seen from Hwy 395, I had visualized the southwest ridge of Owens Peak as a somewhat vegetated but relatively clean  ridge. Wrong! The ridge is a geologically complex mix of fractured metamorphic, metavolcanic and gabbro rock capping the granite of Owens Peak. In most areas the rocky sections of the ridge are bounded by dense brush and pinyon pine.

We pretty much stuck to the crest of ridge on the way up, continuing up and over the steep outcrop just below the summit. Although it was an interesting section to climb, the outcrop was quite loose, and we dropped below it on the descent.

Owens Peak is relatively isolated, and the views from the summit are sweeping. To the north we could see Mt. Whitney, Mt. Langley, Olancha Peak, and the windblown crest of the Sierra between Army and New Army Pass.

Not everyone would see the positive aspects of doing a 10 mile route to a peak that could be done in only 3.5 miles -- or enjoy the ups and downs, and somewhat tedious route-finding along a brushy and crumbling ridge. It's an acquired taste. It was good to share the experience with enthusiastic friends who were still smiling as we jogged down the last yards of trail to the car.

Here's a Google Earth image and a Google Earth KMZ file of a GPS trace of our route. GPS reception was weak at times on the way up and the track has been edited to remove some of the larger errors.

Note: After the Spring snowmelt, it appears there are no natural water sources on the PCT between Walker Pass and Owens Saddle (mile 8.6), or on the ridge.

Related post: PCT North of Walker Pass