Modern Hiker

A long, strenuous hike to one of the more remote peaks in the western Angeles National Forest. A great cool-weather route with some challenging sections of scramble, this hike is an exercise in mental drive — and the enjoyment of some pure seclusion amid the mountains.

A little while back, I hiked Trail Canyon to Condor Peak, with the hopes of adding a few extra miles to the trip and bagging Fox Mountain, too. Unfortunately, after hiking 8 miles in hot weather, we didn’t think we had it in us to bag another peak and make it out in anything resembling decent shape. This week, I decided to give it a go from another angle.

Newly armed with some Komperdell trekking poles and high-arch inserts (designed, hopefully, to keep my knee pain to a bare minimum), I followed some directions to where I thought the trailhead was. Turns out, it wasn’t there. I drove back and forth on Big Tujunga Canyon Road for a few minutes before just pulling over and taking to the search on foot.

After a short peek over the side of a small canyon - no luck - I finally stumbled on what I thought, maybe, was possibly the trailhead — a rough clearing in the brush by the side of the road. A quick look inside and I spotted a very clear, very established trail that’s otherwise completely hidden. From the road, this is what you’re looking for:

So you can see how easy it is to miss this thing.

As the directions I read - both in books and online - were pretty unclear, let me do the honors of being accurate. If you’re coming here from the west, park at one of the small dirt lots near the intersection with Vogel Flats Road. Stick to the north side of the road and walk up around a small bend. The 4.50 Marker and trailhead will be on your left. If you’re coming from the east, the the trailhead is to the immediate right of this sign:

What looks like a drainage ditch is actually the trail, and once you get on it you’ll be completely surrounded by brush and fragrant chaparral. Enjoy it. It’s the most shade you’ll get on the entire hike.

The early portion of the trail wound its way mostly parallel to Big Tujunga Canyon Road, although it stuck far enough above the pavement so that I could easily just look in any direction and pretend I wasn’t almost roadside. The trail seemed to be in pretty good shape, especially for being one that’s so difficult to find in the first place.

As the opening section wasn’t really anything to write home about, and the Main Event still so far in the distance, I just put my head down, got a good rhythm going, and pressed on into the forest.

It seemed like the farther along I went, the more overgrown the trail seemed to get. Eventually, it got almost completely filled in with tall grasses, which were covered in ticks.

After picking up my trekking poles and bolting through this area, a quick tick check spotted a half-dozen of the slow-crawling bloodsuckers on my (thankfully) long pant legs. So after much flicking and swatting, I was clear and back on the trail — stopping only a few more times for repeat performances after running through other patches of high grass.

Eventually I got to a very clearly marked northward-bound trail that met mine at almost a 90-degree angle. According to the maps I had, that’s what my trail was supposed to do, so I ducked under the brush and went inside.

This trail was steep. Crazy steep. So steep that someone had taken the time to tie a sturdy rope around some of the heartier brush so you could pull yourself up the ascent.

I’m glad the rope was there, but I was even happier to have trekking poles on me. I was able to plant the poles into the dirt and pull myself up much quicker than I’d be able to if I were just using the rope. I got to a small clearing in the brush at the top of a minor bump, and continued thrashing my way through the chaparrel on an apparent use-trail. The only problem was, after a while, the use trail just up and ended.

I searched around and found a few sets of footprints that kept going, but it looked like they were just bushwhacking at that point, and nothing I’d read about this trail mentioned off-trail travel. Then I looked up and saw the actual trail, far in the distance, and far from anywhere near where I was.

My skin scratched up and my camera strap torn, I turned around and went back down the hill, exploring for a bit to the east to see if the trail was that way. No dice.

I figured by this point, I’d have to really book it to make it to Fox Mountain and back before sundown, and was resigned to just call it a day and head back to the car. Then, after running through those high grasses again, I noticed a stretch of trail that veered in the same direction as the trail I was on, but ascended instead of descending. After thinking for a moment, I chose the ascending trail and hiked a few hundred feet in. I checked my GPS, and had finally found the Fox Mountain Trail.

If you’re coming up from the trailhead, this is what the junction looks like:

So you can see that this, too, is very easy to miss. Going forward will take you to the tick-laced grasses and fake rope trail. Only by hanging left and making an almost 180 degree turn will you get on the Fox Mountain trail. I’ve marked it on my GPS track, so you’ve got no excuses.

At a fast pace, I hiked up to a numbered mileage marker and looked around. To my left, the long ridge of Condor Peak rose through the haze.

While to my right, a very distant Fox Mountain jutted out from behind several different ridges. This was going to be a long one.

And so, after psyching myself up for a few minutes - and realizing that having a broken camera strap was going to prevent me from having an easily-accessible camera for pictures, I decided to try to make this trail a bit more of an exercise in speed. If I kept up my usual speed of 2.5-3 miles an hour, I could make it to the peak and back as the sun set. Sounded like a challenge. Sounded like a good hike.

I trekked on in the full sunlight, happy it wasn’t too hot, winding my way through the typical brush and shrubs of the lower elevations. The trail was clear, and only occasionally rocky. It also took its sweet time making any noticable incline, often rising and falling along the sloping ridge of the mountains.

After about two and a half miles, I could hear the gentle trickle of water flowing from somewhere below me. And as the canyon rose to meet the trail, I found a small but flowing spring pouring out of the side of the mountain. The water cascaded down through several small pools before trickling across the trail and down to the canyon below.

And amidst the dry scrubland, this spring turned the area for about a 20 foot radius into temperate rain-forest: ferns, vines, thick green canopy - the whole deal. It was a great place to stop and have a quick bite before heading back toward the peak.

A bit farther up, I paused to take in the view of the long and winding trail latched on to the side of the mountain. I’d come a long way so far, but still had quite a ways left to go.

While the skies above me were clear blue, the haze was really starting to move into the valleys by now. Mount Lukens - a visual straight shot across the canyon - was almost unnoticable. But with Fox Mountain still a few miles away, I kept pressing onward.

By now, my knee was already starting to begin whatever process happens when it shuts down for a day, post-hike. Even with the arch insoles and trekking poles. Oh well. I knew I had a few more hours of use, and just tried to keep my rhythm and move forward.

As the trail (finally) crosses the south face of Fox Mountain, it teeters perilously on the edge of a sharp dropoff. It’s still very manageable, even with the two rockslides that completely cover the path. I took my time, using the poles to test for stable rocks before I stepped on them.

After that, it was a short (but still long-feeling) round the bend to the final stretch. The trail made a short, steep descent during the approach, but by then you’ll be too exhausted and summit-feverish to notice. You will, however, notice how steep the final use-trail is — about 500 vertical feet in almost as short a distance. Steep.

Again, I was supremely glad that this was my inaugural trekking pole hike, as I didn’t particularly feel like getting on my hands and knees and crawling up the mountain at this point. Hiking this without poles would be very difficult. With poles, it’s tough but do-able.

I dug into the soft ground and hauled myself up to the summit, where I instantly threw off my backpack and sat on some stones near the marker.

The haze was thick, but the views were still worth the journey, and I gazed eastward at the obscured San Gabriels as my limbs enjoyed their brief moments of rest.

I searched through my pack and pulled out a Fuji apple - nature’s finest edible reward. As I nearly-inhaled the apple, I noticed a small dark mark on my left ankle. Peering closer, I confirmed my worries — it was a tick, and it was already lodged in my skin.

All things considered, I’ve had an unreasonably good track record with these things. I lived in the Home State of Lyme Disease for 22 years without ever getting a single tick bite. That said, I also didn’t go outside much, which probably had something to do with it. But all that school-sponsored fear-mongering paid off. I knew exactly how to remove the little bloodsucker, and after a few nervous attempts to surround its head with tweezers, it actually came out pretty easily.

I know you’re supposed to hang onto these guys just in case, but I’ll admit I panicked and dropped it directly on my other leg, where it was taken care of with some frantic finger-flicking.

Needless to say, I adopted the New England Sock Style for the descent. Even though it looks ridiculous and it sure isn’t comfortable when it’s hot out.

The return trip was quick and straightforward, with just a slight bit of limping toward the end. When I got to my car, a last-ditch pant check netted about four more uninvited friends crawling around various nooks and crannies on my pant legs. Persistant little guys.

Oh, and I got back just in time for the sunset.

 

The Basics:

- Distance: 14.9 Miles. It’s about 12 if you don’t miss the trail like I did.
- Elevation Gain: Just over 3000 feet.
- Time: 6-8 hours on a good pace.
- Trail Condition: Very good, with a few areas of rockslide damage near the summit. Three considerations: 1). The trailhead can be difficult to spot. 2). The correct trail to Fox Mountain is very easy to miss if you’re approaching from the west. 3). The use trail to the summit of Fox Mountain is very steep. Even with trekking poles, use caution and take your time. The trail from the "eastern trailhead" is much more overgrown than the one coming from the west.
- How to Get There: Consult the write-up and Google Earth / GPS file for precise directions. It’s a bit tricky to find.

- Map It

The Notables:

- Remote peak on a lightly-traveled trail. I didn’t see anyone else while I was up there.
- Mostly shadeless trail.
- Sweeping views of the western San Gabriels.

Extending Your Stay:

- With a car shuttle, you can continue on to Condor Peak and descend on the Trail Canyon Trail. This loop trail is just slightly longer than an in-and-out of Fox Mountain.

More Pictures:

- A few up on Flickr, but not as many as I usually take. I’m going to need a new camera strap.