A Decade.

Long time, said the young man to the slightly older man. And so it goes. Managed to finagle one of my friends into heading out to the mountains yesterday for a trek to the top of the tallest mountain in L.A. County at 10,064 feet, Mt. San Antonio, known to locals as Mt. Baldy. On a clear day it's visible from my house, it used to be the one aspect of nature other than the ocean that would remind me there was more to the world than the big city. A little less than a decade ago I ventured out to the area, as part of a series of prepatory hikes leading up to the assault on Mt. Whitney that was planned for sometime in the future. Whitney has become somewhat of a symbol of strength in my family, and it was my goal at the time to eventually conquer the continental U.S's highest peak. If you really want to hear that story, ask someone to recite my AcaDec speech on the subject, many of the people around me know it by heart after hearing me give it COUNTLESS times over the two years I was competing with the team.

Anyway, that one's 14,494 feet, this one is just peanuts at 10k. :) Unfortunately as I would find out, the thing that makes the Ski Hut trail to the summit from Manker Flats somewhat difficult, is that the elevation gain is 4,000 feet over a period of 4 miles, and even experienced hikers know that 1k feet a mile means you're in for some serious steepness. The other error in judgement was based on the fact that the first time around so long ago it was the trail we used to get down, but since we never came up it, I had no recollection of how difficult a trail it was.

So yeah, not for the faint of heart. As we eventually discovered. Interestingly enough the altitude is what killed me the first time, with the last 500 feet or so to the summit taking like an hour, due to me keeling over and feeling like I was about to vomit every other step. This time it felt like I was gaining energy as we went rather than losing, at least once we got up towards the top. It's probably due to the pace, which was very relaxed compared with the kind I used in the past. It was a new thing for me to be stopping often enough to admire the view. So many times I get locked onto the final goal, I forget about the journey. My climbing partner wasn't too impressed with the trail as compared to other things we've done in Santa Barbara, given the lack of vegetation for the most part, other than your typical pine trees, brush, and oh so much sun. Basically shady spot to shady spot was the hiking strategy, as we tackled switchback after switchback. I got burned pretty good, your classic redneck circle and around the face a bit. Eventually we made it to the Ski Hut, which serves as about the halfway point. The view from there was quite nice, you're deep in a valley in an area they call the Mt. Baldy Bowl, with high ridges on three sides and just a sweeping expanse below you. We pondered the situation for a while, as it had taken us three hours to get to that point and after a late start, darkness was becoming somewhat of an issue. She eventually volunteered to give the next switchback section a shot and see how it went, and take it from there.

At that point, I really wasn't expecting to get to the top. I was having a good time as always, with the usual hiking games like the ever popular alphabet of insults, followed by the alphabet of compliments to make up for the previous abuse. She seemed pretty drained quite early on, and I'd mentioned that the Ski Hut would be a good turnaround point if necessary. I'm unsure of whether it was her own drive or whether it was guilt that made her continue, I hope it wasn't because of my typical male testosterone driven goal based way of looking at things. Regardless, I know she enjoys hiking because of nature, and the relaxing aspect of it, and definitely didn't expect to be pushed to the limit her first time out this summer, before she'd gotten into any kind of shape. A few switchbacks up I had worked out the wording of my "the mountain isn't going anywhere I can come back anytime and climb it" speech, and started into it, but that's when out popped the "oh no, we're GETTING to the TOP" attitude that would be prevalent for the remainder of the ascent. I was glad she'd decided to conquer it, but I felt guilty knowing that if she knew what it entailed beforehand she probably would have avoided it like the plague.

Eventually, on top we stood. The last bit took quite a while, as it was one of the steepest sections, and that's when you start finding it harder to breath, and the wind becomes loud in your ears, and the temperature drops in a hurry. The most hilarious aspect of the trip came as I was standing a couple switchbacks from the summit as she was four or five below me, and I stood up on a rock to do a cheer. There I was screaming out the letters of her name and "what's that spell?!~?!?" with a few wahoos involved, and as I turn around to get down off the rock, I see a pair of people walk past me, having just come over the ridge from the summit to walk down the trail. So yeah, I thought my audience was 1/3 the size of what it apparently was, as they went chuckling by. That gave my friend a good giggle anyway.

So the infamous picture eventually got taken, which was one of the things I'd been wanting to do. I have a picture in the collection that I put on the wall wherever I am that shows me as a young boy of 11 or 12, leaning against a trail marker sign on top of Mt. Baldy, with the wide expansive view all around me. I'm probably about four and a half feet tall in the picture and somewhat of a silhouette, so I figured it would be cool to get a picture in the same spot now, a whole lot older. This led to a lengthy discussion of where the picture taker should be placed to get the identical shot, with wide sweeping gestures pointing at mountains and landmarks in the background and elevated voices discussing the finer points of photography. Eventually we compromised and took a picture from both recommended locations, so we could "see whose turned out better." Isn't life always a competition with me. :/

I didn't expect it to be the undertaking it ended up as, not exactly pop up in a couple hours and hoof it back down in time for a late lunch. Darkness approached as we made it back to the car, luckily the fullness of the moon illuminated things quite well, and actually made the last half mile or so one of the prettiest I've hiked. Nothing spectacular about the area in the daytime, but the moonlight lit up the trees in a way that you just dont' see in the land of neon lighting.

Recommend the trail to others as definitely the best view you'll get in L.A. County, but allow for about six hours up and three hours down, and believe me when I say "steep." To my friend, thank you for sharing the journey even if it wasn't a very popular concept at the time. I hope you thought it was worth it afterward. Even when the level of my jokes degraded to the level of "absolutely retarded."

Something tells me I'm not going to see her for a while. Too much Matt in too little time tends to be a bit of overkill. Ask my family, they'll tell ya. ;)

We'll see where I am at 31, who knows how I might have changed by then.