Desert View

This area was cleared by a large and hot fire, but in some of the areas the trees died but did not burn very completely.  Driving up from enjoying sunrise on a beach on the Pacific Ocean near San Diego, I arrived near Mt. Laguna near the 6000 foot level in the evening.  The mountains had their heads in the clouds, and the road led into the mist as the light was fading.  It was hard to identify landmarks, so we didn't know exactly where we were, or where the road ahead was leading, but we don't get a lot of fog away from the coast in California and Nevada, so we continued forward to see what the road would lead us to.

There were campgrounds in the area, but it was surprisingly cold.  We had traded the warmth of the beaches of La Jolla for this mountainous terrain where temperatures were quickly dropping through the 40s and into the 30s.  Ironically this stretch of sunless road was known as the Sunrise Highway, apparently for this panoramic view to the east, looking down on peaks and ridges the Sawtooth Range thousands of feet below.

We hadn't seen any signs of life for miles, the picnic area we had passed was entirely deserted.  We had been warned to stay away from the border, a hotbed of illegal activity, and it was particularly dangerous at night.  The border Patrol couldn't offer us any help; they wouldn't be flying in this fog and wind.

We came to an overlook, and we could see some warm and inviting light coming from a barren and dry-looking landscape far below, under the shroud of mist above.  Perhaps this place was the trailhead marked "Desert View" on the map.  I got out of the car to take a picture, to have a record of something along this deserted stretch of road.  

The first thing that I noticed was the biting wind.  The temperature was 34 now, close to freezing, but the wind was howling across the ridge, cutting through the clothing we had put on for the warm California beach that morning.  

As I captured a couple of hurried compositions, a figure emerged from the mist behind me.  Dressed far too lightly for the weather, he had a bandanna wrapped over his head and down the sides, tucked into his jacket.  His hat shaded his face in the fading light so I couldn't see his eyes.  He was between me and the car, and you can't help in these scenarios quickly mapping out in your mind what you'll do if he pulls out a knife.  If he instead pulled out a gun, well, what can you do…  I chastised myself for leaving the car without the heavy hiking stick, as if I would have used that to walk the few dozen paces to the viewpoint.  I could use my camera, grab the 70-200mm lens as a handle (it was only f/4, so my hands could get around it ( I knew that giving up f/2.8 would pay off some day).  I could swing the Canon 5D Mark III body attached to it as a club.  Some day thousands of years from now an archaeologist would match the imprint in his skull to a DSLR body, and develop a theory that clubs were what DLSRs were used for.  My random thoughts were interrupted as he spoke.

Laguna Mountain Recreation Area, Cleveland National Forest, California.

Sunrise Highway

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