San Gabriel Bighorn Sheep Country

Once when I was younger, stronger, and a wee bit more fit, I worked in the high Sierras doing wildlife surveys. Now I still work for California wildlife, but at a desk in front of a computer. And while I'm still doing a lot of good for the animals, the lack of outdoor activity is not doing a lot of good for me. So whenever a volunteer opportunity comes up to do field work, I try to jump on it. The Department of Fish and Game announced they needed hikers on the ground to help with bighorn sheep surveys in the San Bernardino/San Gabriel Mountains. It was an instant "sign me up", even though I suspected the hiking transects through steep, desert scrub terrain in the southern California heat was likely a bit out of my outdoor fitness league. I was assured there was an "easy" hike for us flatland desk dwellers, so I warmed up on a practice hike (see previous blog), bought a lightweight backpack, grabbed my hiking poles, and was ready to go.

I camped with my uber-camper-hiker field biologist colleagues at Lytle Creek in the San Bernardino National Forest, Applewhite campground. It was early March and quite windy this time of year. My first act of field-savvy brilliance was to head down to camp in the Santa Ana wind zone without my tent stakes. I set up my little backpack tent, and off it went with the first gust of wind. So while the others were long setup, settled, and getting ready to prepare food, I was searching for a collection of rocks to keep my tent from blowing away. Awkward... But we had a nice leisurely day at the campground, had lunch at the nice local and eccentric cafe (Melody's Place), and went to the bighorn sheep survey training seminar in San Bernardino, where we learned how to find, identify, and record data for the sheep. I was good and ready to see some sheep and satisfy my inner field biologist's hunger for adventure.

My hiking partner was our license and revenue branch chief, so I thought I was in good company as far as taking the "easiest" route and being slower than everyone else. My second stroke of brilliance was to leave my hiking poles in the vehicle, and my third brilliant decision was to hike from the parking lot to the trailhead (instead of taking a ride). The trail itself was "flat". The hike to the trailhead was straight uphill. And it was a nice, unusually, sun-blazing hot morning in the San Gabriel Mountains Barret-Cascade Canyon. My "slow" hiking partner, along with everyone else, hiked circles around me and ridges ahead. There I was again, in my usual trailing position. Hike, rest, gasp for breath; hike, rest, gasp for breath. The survey leader handed me his hiking poles and told me there was no time to rest. I volunteered to stop at the first survey point. My interest was to see sheep, not to prove to myself I could still hike. I sat down next to a few other volunteer observers, and scanned the canyons with my binoculars for three hours in search of the sheep.

The sheep were in the area, but not on our side of Mt. Baldy. They were up by the snowline, so the power-hikers who hit the steep trails saw a few, and the helicopter surveyors caught sight of them as well. I would have felt bad about it, but I was too busy reveling in the fact that instead of sitting under fluorescent lights in an office in Sacramento, I was sitting in the San Gabriels surrounded by gorgeous bighorn sheep habitat, and learning about an endangered species I previously knew nothing about.

Thanks goes out to the Society for the Conservation of Bighorn Sheep for running the citizen-science census each year and for informing the public about this wonderful animal. I'll be back next year.