[Day 1] Santa Catalina

I still have the bug. An underlying desire to dissipate time on my two feet is not going away anytime soon. A couple months have elapsed since the finality of the Arizona Trail, and the expanse of the American west gnaws on my femur bone like a famished dog. Urbia and suburbia make me batty. The dream of moving inland to the interior is ever present, as it always has been.

Anyway, I am off to one of Southern California’s Channel Islands for a weekend for some quick miles on Santa Catalina. These islands are provinces of the Transverse and Peninsular Ranges, the same mountains that constitute the inland line of the Pacific Crest. The Channel Islands of California are far from sand spits. A couple of the islands, San Clemente and San Nicolas (southwest and northwest of Catalina, respectively), are of Navy ownership for weapons testing and ground training. Catalina features some 75 square miles of island terrain with the vast majority of the land ownership falling under the Catalina Island Conservancy. As far as I know, it’s the only island of the Channel Islands with a residing population.

A 6am ferry out of Long Beach arrived to the island town of Avalon by 7am. Avalon is the most substantial form of civilization on any of the Channel Islands — a boutiquey tourists dream of shops, restaurants, hotels. I grabbed a doughy, dense donut before making for the trail; as unnecessary as it was, high caloric intake is a subconscious act at this point when about the trail.

The Trans-Catalina Trail began with a 1200-foot climb out of Avalon. The trail was excellently graded with patterned switchbacks — quite reminiscent of Southern California PCT cut. Climbing out of Avalon, clouds (or so I thought) floated about the California coastline. Removing my sunglasses corrected that evaluation. Instead, the snow-covered mountains of the Pacific Crest — namely the San Gabriel’s — popped out in the clear skies. Recent heavy rains cleaned the airs of Southern California, allowing for hundred-mile visibility from a proper viewpoint. When Googling the city of LA, that classic photo of the Los Angeles skyline with the snowy San Gabriels in the background is usually a first result, but very often a rare sight. Occasionally, after a heavy storm, the snowy Laguna Mountains, San Jacinto Mountains, or even San Bernardino Mountains can be seen from areas of north county San Diego.

As the sun continued its rise and I merged with the ridge of Catalina’s Divide Road, the snow caps popped, and the San Bernardino’s and San Jacinto’s became readily identifiable alongside the San Gabriel Mountains of inland California. I loved to see it. My mind replayed reels of hiking these mountains on the PCT. Interestingly, and I did very much search for this view, I never caught of a view of Pacific Ocean from the Pacific Crest Trail. Oh, man — those mountains need to stop looking so good, or I might find myself back on the PCT this year.

Back to the task at hand, San Clemente Island southwest of Catalina also became a prominent feature of the skyline. Divide Road headed into the interior of the island, and portions of trail jumped canyons and hills alongside the road. Around six miles into the day, I came across an island fox. He came within a few feet and genuinely seemed unbothered by people. Foxes are curious creatures — both instinctively curious themselves and mysterious to myself.

Weaving canyons of the island towards Blackjack Campground and Mount Orizaba (Catalina’s highest point at 2,100 feet above sea level), I was surprised by the rather dry nature of the island after the past days of torrential downpour. A mere few days ago, the island saw upwards of a foot of rain. Mud spots and standing water did exist, but only in typical trouble spots.

Passing through Blackjack Campground, I stopped for a bit to down some protein powder and water up on some fluids tainted with the taste of plastic tank. Proceeding over the ridge north from Blackjack, Catalina’s “airport in the sky” came into view. After an easy canyon traverse, I made landfall at the airport. Of course, I couldn’t resist a chance at food. I grabbed some pricey bison barbacoa tacos and french fries. I don’t have much mindfulness for my bank account.

After the airport, trail merged up with road for a while routing towards an exciting single-track ridge walk into camp at Little Harbor. The ridge walk was a highlight of the day, especially with the accompanying setting sun. A couple other foxes darted across the trail as I wrapped up the miles to Little Harbor.

Coming into Little Harbor, I was on watch for bison. Back in 1924, a herd of some 15 American bison were brought to Catalina for a movie shoot. The bison were left and expanded on the island, given there weren’t any predators to provide competition. Today, there’s some 150 bison on the island. Supposedly, the conservancy performs “non-hormonal birth control” to keep the population numbers in check.

As I made the final steps in the campground, a bison caught my eye hanging around the flat grassy areas of the camp. I approached and started snapping photos. He, apparently, wasn’t too entertained with me. Some fellow campers got much closer to the bison than I did, but they had a gazebo and two wood tables to separate them. I was down range from the buffalo. I guess my white shirt and snapping camera was pestering. He approached me. I moved towards a large palm tree to give myself cover should things turn south. The bison did in fact charge me. At first, I called it a bluff charge, but thinking about it more, it wasn’t. I ran behind the palm for cover, and the bison charged as far as I was standing. He could have pursued further and gored me, but I was provided mercy in this instance.

I found camp in the dusk away from the bison, since he was being fairly territorial around my designated campsite. After a protein shake, I threw out a quick cowboy camp and hit the hay. There’s much more island to explore over the next couple days.

Signing off,

Zeppelin