Some outstanding evening runs this week. Did a FiveFingers run out at Ahmanson on Tuesday, and as sometimes happens this time of year, didn't make it back before dark. Was up on Lasky Mesa in the fading light, with endorphins at full flow. In a distant grove oaks I could hear a Great Horned Owl, and with each hoot-whoo it seemed the zeal of the day was turning to the tranquility of the night. The running was effortless and ethereal.

This evening's run was also superb. Over the course of the run, the skies had become increasingly gray and troubled, as a weak cold front approached the area. Climbing a long hill, the light was dank, and I had given up on the sun. But as I neared the crest of the hill, orange-red sunlight began to illuminate the clouds from below, highlighting a sunset shower. Large, cold rain drops began to patter around me, and I watched mesmerized, as the light, clouds, and rain played on the sky.

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.

Like flies on the sky, contrails are visually annoying, but do they also affect climate? For a discussion of the possible effects of these artificial clouds, see NOVA's Dimming the Sun: The Contrail Effect by Peter Tyson.

From today's run in the Simi Hills, northwest of Los Angeles.

A California mountain kingsnake on the South Fork Trail, in the San Gabriel Mountains, near Los Angeles.

From our trail run on Sunday.

It was a little eerie. There wasn't so much as an animal track or old bootprint on the trail ahead. The path was perfectly smooth, and I felt a bit guilty as my running shoes left their patterned tracks under foot. Lynn, Frank, and I were working up the Pacific Crest Trail on the west side of Mt. Williamson in the San Gabriel Mountains, near Los Angeles. As we switchbacked up the trail, the mountain seemed to sigh, happy to have enjoyed at least a few days of solitude.

From a run at Ahmanson Ranch earlier this week.

San Bernardino Mountain Divide from near Charlton Peak

As I approached the spur trail to High Meadow Springs, I tried to convince myself I had enough water to continue. The problem wasn't the third of a mile detour down to the spring, or even the 280' loss of elevation. The problem was the interruption. Having to get water was like having to stop to remove an annoying little rock from your shoe. You know you should, but one mile passes, then two... The running along the 10,500' crest on the Divide Trail was just so spectacular, I didn't want to stop!

Less than a week after the rain in Southern California, grasses and other annuals are sprouting, and open space areas are starting to turn green.

From a run at Ahmanson Ranch this afternoon.

Spectacular Autumn trail running along Wellman Cienega in the San Jacinto Wilderness.

Lush with ferns and corn lilies in the summer, Wellman Cienega is a mountain seep high on the eastern slopes of Marion Mountain. It's a couple of miles into an excellent 5 mile downhill segment from the top of San Jacinto to Saddle Junction.

From today's trail run to San Jacinto Peak (10,834') and Tahquitz Peak (8828') from the top of the Palm Springs Tram at Long Valley.

Here's a Google Earth browser view of a GPS trace of the route, and an elevation profile generated in SportTracks. The total elevation gain/loss on the 20 mile run was about 4000'.

Related post: Room with a View

The first day of sun following rain on Tuesday and Wednesday. Ahmanson Ranch was not nearly as wet and muddy as I expected, and although water was pooled in Las Virgenes Creek, the stream was not running. Would have been a very different scenario had this storm occurred later in the rain season. Some rain totals for the Los Angeles area and comments about the developing El Nino are in my October Weathernotes.

The soft trail conditions were nearly ideal for barefoot running, and I took my running shoes off part way through the run. The muddy sections were great fun, and running barefoot was a enjoyable way to put a wrap on the rain event. I can't wait for it to rain again!

The grass backlit by the sun is smilo (Piptatherum miliaceum). Introduced into California over a century ago, smilo is a drought resistant grass that has been used for pasture, and for erosion control following fires.

Did an enjoyable run at Sage Ranch today that started and ended in showers, but also included a few moments of subdued sun.

The shrub with the yellow-orange leaves is rain soaked poison oak. As I took the photo, a California towhee landed in its limbs, probably a little concerned about the unexpected house guest. From a towhee point of view, a thick chaparral shrub is a homey place with all of the creature comforts.

In chaparral areas towhees are common, and I frequently see them on my runs. Over years of running I've learned some of their habits.

Many times when I encounter a towhee on the trail, it will flutter and scurry along the ground just ahead of me, and then dart into a bush. Although not as dramatic as the broken wing act of a killdeer, this "catch me if you can" behavior is probably intended to draw a potential predator away from the bird's nesting and living area.

Very different animals will often cooperate to benefit each other. In the case of a towhee, one of its best buds is apparently the cottontail rabbit. On occasion I will see the bird and rabbit foraging together on a trail. When trying to keep a wary eye out for potential predators, four eyes are much better than two.

Where there is one towhee, there will often be another nearby -- presumably its mate. At Sage Ranch, I've repeatedly encountered a pair of towhees near a particular shrub over a period of several years.

Clouds swirled around me as I worked up the steep trail toward an overlook near Rocky Peak. I stopped and listened to the patter of the rain against the rocks, its intensity rising and falling with the gusts of wind.

The wind-driven rain trickled down my face, tasting cool and clean. It didn't matter that my running clothes were soaked and that with each gust I could feel a chill. It was raining!

In the same manner that a color will sometimes appear especially pure and vibrant, there was an unusual liveliness to this rain.