A Walk to the Summit

On March 23, 2001 I walked from Fern Meadow to the nominal summit of Palomar Mountain, taking pictures of whatever caught my eye. The least boring of those images are shown here, in the order I encountered them.

This is the view I almost have from Fern Meadow, if only I were a little closer to the edge and not in a little depression. Actually, this is the view from the county service yard across State Park Road from me. You can only see the nearby areas; the distant view is shrouded in clouds.

See this one bigger.


Much of State Park Road is lined with barbed-wire fences. This one has been there for a while; the bottom of the older (vertical) fencepost is completely rotted away, and doesn't even touch the ground anymore.


Here's another elderly fencepost being assisted by a younger one.


A "what is it?" photo, reflecting the "what is it?" reaction I had on spotting these black chunks by the side of the road. On inspection, these turn out to be chunks of asphalt. I believe they were torn from the edge of the road surface by the snowplow, and piled by the side of the road with a bunch of snow, now melted -- a miniature glacial moraine.


I'm not sure if the weather or the snowplows ripped this little tree out of the ground. Actual diameter, about two inches.


Erosion. A lot of trees seem to have grown on dirt that's no longer there.


The price of being "on the grid". Many of the poles have elaborate guy-wire arrangements, since the wires have to follow the twists of the road.


I don't know if this is one tree, or a bunch of trees grown together. It/they is/are representative of the trees growing nearest the road, in places where the road has been cut below grade. The road is over 100 years old, but I suspect the extensive grading is much more recent.


I'd like to know the story of how this one root got burned. Nothing else in the vicinity shows any signs of fire, at least not that I could see.


It's hard to see how the big trees stay alive when the roots run on top of solid rock. Perhaps this root was underground once, and has been exposed by erosion. The root is about four inches in diameter.


From one of the Palomar Mountain Spring Water wells, you can see over the edge and down over the South Grade Road. It's obscured by trees except for this one little patch.


The Post Office (and the three other businesses at the nominal summit) make a good destination for a walk, and mark the end of State Park Road.


Lotsa caution and speed warning signs, trying to slow down the motorists for the twisty turns of the road. This one is shiny new. I found it on East Grade Road near the fire station.


I walked around the short loop of Summit Drive, which goes through the Crestline Camping Area of the Cleveland National Forest. This tree is on the edge of the picnic area central to the little park. More erosion.


A stump. Across the street from the previous tree.


Another kind of stump, very close to the last one.


Here we're back on State Park Road, walking toward home. There are quite a few driveways leading off both sides. This one is in better repair than most. Some don't appear to have been used for years. A few are actually paved. Most all have gates, either open or closed, to preserve the private status of the roads behind them.


Closeup view of the same gate as the last shot. I like the textures.


You've gotta wonder what goes on in the minds of the telephone pole climbers. Here they have kludged two poles together with an ordinary poly rope. I wonder how long that can last, and whether it actually does any good at all. I also like the way the telephone lines curve.


This horse is always hanging out in this field, one of my neighbors to the south from the Upper Meadow. They also keep a motorcycle under a cover in this field. I tried to get a picture contrasting the horse and the motorcycle, but couldn't get the angle.


Home again, at the apple-tree-lined driveway on Fern Meadow.

Canon EOS D30, Canon 28-135 IS zoom, minimal manipulation in Photoshop
Copyright 2001 Paul Williamson. kb5mu@amsat.org