I wanted to hike up Falling Rock Canyon (FRC) to Ontario peak with Sally and without snow. On my first venture up FRC, it was bitterly cold, I lost my car keys and was almost stranded at the Icehouse Canyon TH.
Right now, the score is FRC 2, Ellen 0
We started up Icehouse Canyon around 6 AM. Crossed a dry creekbed (should have been the first clue) and started up a rock strewn canyon. Before too long, the canyon became very narrow and steep, so we bailed onto the ridge on the left side, thinking we just had to get around a dry waterfall.
The ridge presented it's own set of problems -- it was very steep with scree and crappy rock. The rock frequently gave way beneath and hands and feet and the slabs were slippery. We tried to downclimb but abandoned this plan quickly. We were on all fours and concerned that we and part of the mountainside would slide downhill out of control.
Decided to traverse left to find hopefully find better climbing conditions. Picture a cartoon character running in place with the "whoop, whoop, whoop" sound, then add the fear of falling to death and you'll have a pretty good idea of the situation. We made it to another outcropping of rocks and started scrambling up a steep, narrow gully surrounded on each side by rocks, bushes and trees that provided adequate traction for climbing.
We finally bailed out on a ridge to our left and tried to determine our location. It was disappointing to find that we'd only climbed about 1.2 K but at least we were oriented correctly to Sugarloaf peak. We also saw fairly recent footprints, so at least we weren't the only fools to have gone this route. As we bushwhacked and rockscrambled up the ridge, our primary concern was cliffing out.
The ridge finally started to open up and flatten out. We found ourselves on a definite use trail and suddenly heard voices. Muku and Patrick appeared -- they'd gone up FRC to Sugarloaf Peak and were headed back down the same way. I suddenly felt exhausted -- Sally noted this was because we no longer had gallons of adrenalin pumping through our bloodstreams
We dropped down to the saddle to the west of Sugarloaf, then started heading up the ridge to Ontario. It was a relief to be back on familar territory -- we now had an actual use trail and cairns I felt like a survivor in a lifeboat who'd just been rescued.
We made our way up the ridge, savoring the beauty of our surroundings. Once the ridge connected with the east shoulder of Ontario, it seemed to take forever to get to the peak. We enjoyed a leisurely lunch on the peak and bemoaned the smoggy view of the basin -- we didn't yet know about the fire. Celebrated our success with a sip of Glenfiddich single malt Scotch. I had bloodstains on my Smart Wool long sleeve top and long pants. A buckthron even managed to drive itself a quarter inch into my right thigh. On the way down, we joked about the ease of walking on the trail. A trail? We don't need no f--king trail.
The descent was completely uneventful. As we reached the TH, I suddenly started laughing -- I'd finally thought of a name for the canyon that wasn't FRC -- "Falling Girl Canyon." At dinner at PF Changs in Rancho Cucamonga, we broke up again when we realized it was the first of May -- MAY DAY. Perfect.
Miles of smiles,
Ellen
