March 12, 2000
What do you get when you combine blue skies, brilliant sunshine and five feet of snow? The perfect combination for a Great Outdoors snowshoe hike!
This hike was something of a novelty for Great Outdoors ó our first snowshoe hike ever. It also was such a success that you can be sure that there will be a strong demand for another snowshoe hike next year.
Our trip began as we drove up from Redlands on Highway 38, the less traveled ìback routeî to Big Bear Lake. After following Mill Creek a ways, we began climbing and passed Angelus Oaks on the way to Jenks Lake. Despite the recent snows, the main highway was completely free of snow and ice. A short drive further led to the South Fork Trailhead, our meeting point for this hike.
Snowshoe hiking does not require difficult preparation. In fact, the only specialized equipment required is ski poles, snowshoes and gaiters. All are available for rent at reasonable prices from the major outdoor gear stores such as REI and A-16. Hiking poles can substitute easily for ski poles by attaching a wider basket to the pole tips.
For this hike, snowshoes were very helpful, but not obligatory. The trail out of South Fork gets a sufficient number of hikers, even in the winter, to assure that the snow on the trail itself is tamped down well. So, as we began our journey, we carried our snowshoes on our day packs and had no difficulty climbing the well-traveled trail in hiking boots.
After hiking a short distance, we paused to take in the incredible vistas around us. To the north were the snow-covered mountains that ring Big Bear Lake. Mount San Gorgonio loomed to the south, cloaked in a majestic mantle of fresh snow. We continued onward through forests of pine and fir until we reached Horse Meadow.
The cabin here was the ideal place for our morning snack break. The bright sunshine assured us of comfortable temperatures, even though all around us was glistening snow.
Horse Meadow also would give us our first opportunity to try out our snowshoes. Walking out onto the wide expanse of deep powder, we discovered just how easy it is to maneuver in snowshoes. It is hard to describe the special feeling of being able to traverse deep snow with ease. Without the snowshoes, the snow field would have been impassable ó with each footstep, we would have ìpostholed,î which is to say, sunk down to our waist.
If your idea of snowshoe hiking is walking on tennis rackets, think again. Like most outdoor gear, snowshoes have come into the 21st century. Lightweight and comfortable, snowshoes accommodate regular hiking boots with minimal effort.. The snowshoes themselves consist of a light aluminum frame, which supports a rubberized decking material. The snowshoes are designed so that the toe of your boot moves independently of the rest of the snowshoe. A serrated cleat below the toe plate lets your foot dig into the snow for extra traction where the climbing gets steep. And yet, when going downhill, the snowshoes almost ìskiî across the snow.
From Horse Meadow we continued our moderate climb. Those who did not bring snowshoes had little difficulty negotiating the well-packed main trail toward Poopout Hill. And those who were wearing snowshoes were rewarded with an entirely new sense of mobility, venturing cross-country over virgin snow.
Hikers from last summerís day trip to Dry Lake will recognize Poopout Hill as the halfway point on that trip. However, on this introductory snowshoe hike, Poopout Hill would be our destination for the day.
Here we took in the sweeping vista of Mount San Gorgonio, as we settled into a comfortable spot to relax and to enjoy lunch and good conversation. After lunch, trip leader Rob Talbert accompanied a group of about one-half of our hikers on a cross-country trek through the forest, climbing up hills and down into small valleys that will turn into streambeds in summer. Upon returning to our base at Poopout Hill, those who had snowshoes lent them to those who did not, and the remainder of our group also got the opportunity to experience the thrill of snowshoeing on deep snow.
One of the real delights of winter hiking is the utter stillness of the snow-covered forest. Sounds are muffled here. Even the chirping of birds and the rustle of an occasional chipmunk seem hushed somehow. Very few flatlanders venture deep into the mountains in winter, and the result is a kind of serenity that is increasingly hard to find in Southern California.
As the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, we headed back in the direction of the South Fork Trailhead, mostly following the main trail, but also diverging from the trail from time to time. And in the open snow fields, we had the chance alternately to run and to ìskiî down the slopes in our snowshoes.
At Horse Meadow, our group divided. Those with hiking boots followed the main trail, while those with snowshoes wandered off the trail, exploring the deep canyons that gouge the area.
Returning to our cars at the South Fork Trailhead, we packed up our gear and then caravanned down the mountain to Redlands, where we stopped at a restaurant for an early supper.
It goes without saying that there were no complaints at the end of this hike. We were blessed with perfect weather and perfect snow conditions. We could not have asked for a better day for this, our first snowshoe trip.
Yet another memorable Great Outdoors hike had come to an end.