Being bitch slapped by the mountains is kind of a double-edged sword. On one hand, you have a plan – meticulously crafted by the ego – that choreographs your grand summit. Here simple alpine fundamentals take a backseat to visions of self, standing high upon a pinnacle overlooking mankind. Then there’s reality. Or all the little details that spring-up while you dwell in fantasy during your trek. Wait, what? Oh, I didn’t think of that.
For us Southern California flatlanders, San Gorgonio is kind of a Grand Teton. Even though we can’t see it from Orange County (unless standing on Santiago Peak), it’s always beckoning. So when I signed the day hike permit, the vision was simple. Get to the top. The pinnacle. What else is there?
I began to look a little more into the details. My route from South Fork to the summit and back was 21 miles with around 5,000 feet of ascent. No big deal. Hell, I’m an ultra runner, I thought. I’m invincible!
|San G - The Elusive One|
|Santiago Peak - The Flatlander's Vantage Point|
No trail? I looked around feverously. For footprints, snowshoe tracks, coyote droppings, anything. But there was nothing. Then it hit me. The two and a half mile trail to San G summit was completely buried under several feet of snow. Details.