The Mountain Temple

Regardless of where we are in the world, I always make it a point to go to church on Christmas. My church: the wilderness. I’ve come to learn that Tucker’s favorite temple is the bluffs or beach. I find the forest to be my favorite venue for spiritual connection. We try to compromise and get a little bit of each so both our souls are satisfied.
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Last year, the lack of road maintenance during snowfall prevented us from reaching the glorious seaside in the Pacific Northwest. (About a mile farther along, the roads became impassable.)

This year, the blazing heat of Southern California gave me pause on spending the day close to home or along or the coast. It was only our fourth Christmas in Los Angeles together. And we wanted to get away.

Granted, we weren’t like the millions of people who began traveling only to be held up in airports and bus stations and on frozen roads due to snow, sleet, and other precipitation. We were safe at our home base and just looking for something a short drive away that would yield an air temperature below 72 degrees.

My top choice of destination was struck down due to a projected high of 78 degrees. We tend to not find a walk enjoyable once it is below 75 degrees. Actually, under 70 is perfect for us. So I looked to the east where the mountains were capped with white. I searched for a place where we could possibly encounter snow on the trails, but where our trusty steed could make it to the trailhead and back without getting stuck.

The Angeles Forest is less than an hour away. Christmas morning is a fantastic time to go, as a vast number of people are at home opening gifts, having breakfast, or celebrating with family. But come 10am, those families start venturing out. So one needs to hit the trail early.
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But "early" is not a time Tucker and I know. So while our arrival to the Mt. Hillyer trailhead was only an hour later than I wanted, we were the last vehicle to fit at the trailhead. (There are only 4 spots.)  I almost had chosen Mt. Vetter for our holiday trek as it was 4 miles instead of 6-7 miles, but it seemed uninteresting until we reached the top. Mt. Hillyer, on the other hand, was a trail of boulders and vistas. Should we not be able to make it up the 1200+ elevation gain over 2.5 miles (a challenge I never would attempt in summer, and even in December, I was unsure we’d make it), we’d have a fun walk along a trail full of character with beautiful views. And honestly, that’s what I look for in a house of spiritual connection: character and beauty.

Gone are the days when I’d hit the trail with just a folded map in my back pocket. Now I look online for those who tread before me. Especially given the challenge of elevation, I wanted to know what I was in for. Luckily, Hiking Guy had done the trail, with his turn by turn pictorial blog of the hike, I knew this is where we needed to be. And he made the AllTrails loop even better by cutting through Horse Flat Campground.

The back half of the loop on AllTrails was supposedly all pavement, and I didn’t go to the wild to walk on concrete; I came to feel the soft earth under my feet. So we started on the soft dirt trail first in case I had to pull the plug and start down the mountain before reaching the pinnacle.
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It wasn’t quite the “forest” I had envisioned since this is the Southland and thus more desert-y than forest-y. Shrubbery abounds, and the trail is quite sandy. I wondered how long ago all of this was under water.

There were also a few very cool trees, long dead but still adding their character to the trail.

There was active water, although not much. Still, nice to see a creek.

The trail took a steep upward climb immediately, and while it’s not my favorite, it does get us to the expansive views quite quickly.

Once we hit views like this, I told Tucker we could turn around at any point and I would be completely satisfied.

But we kept going because we could.

And so glad we could, because the views got even better.

It wasn’t an easy trail, but it was interesting. The boulders and rocks and expansive view of far off mountains made every sight fill my heart with a joyful peace.

I may have missed the first summit, but honestly, I don’t think it matters. We had 360 degree views from almost everywhere. I was feeling grateful to Tucker and the universe and my own body for having surmounted this challenge. It didn’t feel like the “high of 68” the weather app promised; it felt more like 74 or even higher. But once we got high enough, the wind cooled the sweat pouring off my face.

This may have been the first summit with its amazing balanced rock.

The second summit was even more magnificent.

There were plenty more boulders to negotiate, looking like they could fallor roll away at any point and yet were solid in their state.

This bush was not so lovely. As guard of the summit, it stabs you on your way in or out.

We worked our way around (being stabbed through my jeans, I don’t know how Tucker withstood any contact with just fur to protect him) to our visual reward.

Having gone as far as we could safely, Tucker and I took in the views and headed back. I stopped just past the pointy ball of pain to get some water, and Tucker took a short rest.

Then he was up and ready to go again.

Despite not wanting to walk on pavement, since Tucker was showing signs of being a bit tired, I didn’t want to return the way we came. We had to climb over some hefty obstacles and even though it seems counterintuitive, climbing up is a lot easier than climbing down safely. Plus, we had already gone that route. In an effort to materialize my philosophy of moving forward in life rather than going back to what was, I chose to continue the loop. It was a steadier decent, and it wouldn’t involve climbing over boulders.

Tucker trucked along quite quickly on the pavement. I checked to see if it was hot and it was not. So either he wanted the pavement portion of the journey over as quickly as I did, or it was simply a whole lot easier than the sand and boulder ascent. It was interesting to note how much different the hard pavement felt on my entire body, jarring with each step compared to the over three miles we had walked on Nature’s soft floors.

Rather than following All Trails long loop of pavement, I took Hiking Guy’s path down through the closed campground—which was still paved, but for a shorter distance. We took another rest once we hit the end of the loop before starting the offshoot of the lasso.

We had already done this trail going up, but sometimes looking at things from a new perspective gives you new meaning. You see things a little differently. Moving forward sometimes involves a few steps back, and as long as you don’t repeat the same exact footfalls, it’s an entirely different experience.

I caught views I hadn’t noticed before (perhaps because I was gasping for air on the way up or wiping sweat out of my eyes).

And Tucker took pause to appreciate the beauty as well.

There were still boulders and steps to negotiate, but I felt justified in my decision to go the paved route on the return. These steps took us a little longer as our weary bodies made our way downhill.

Back down on the flatland, I was surprised (and proud) to see that we had traversed 6.8 miles in just under four hours.

Tucker didn’t get his oceanside temple this Christmas, but I think he got what he needed from the experience. 

There is something about feet on the earth, eyes on the sweeping vistas, and breathing in the fresh air that brings us back to ourselves and at the same time, connects us with the vast universe. I do not go to the wilderness to tame it; I go to the wilderness to appreciate it. I do not go to the mountaintop to surmount a challenge; I go to the mountaintop to experience the vast beauty of Nature. And while every moment with Tucker I feel Home, when we're together on the trails, we're not just Home, but exactly where we belong.

Tucker and I wish you all Happy Holidays, and hope you get a chance to celebrate the Return the Light in whatever way feels right to you, wherever your heart soars.