Mount San Jacinto is a gigantic mountain located just west of Palm Springs and south of another gigantic peak, mighty San Gorgonio Peak off to the north. The summit elevation of San Jacinto is an impressive 10,400 feet, but moreso when viewed from the east in the Coachella Valley (e.g. Palm Springs and nearby desert cities). Here, the elevations are just barely above sea level, so the full 10,400 feet of mass stands grandly in the sky. From Palm Springs, which is about 400 feet elevation, the summit is just six miles away, one of the greatest elevation differentials (escarpments) in the country.

I grew up in Southern California, in the ‘burbs of eastern Los Angeles county. On clear days, which were rare, San Jacinto and San Gorgonio could be seen off on the eastern horizons (we lived in La Verne, about 50 miles west of both peaks). Under ideal conditions, the view was remarkable. In winter, after a storm, when the mucky air was temporarily shoved aside, these peaks stood tall covered in snow—just gorgeous. In spring or fall, when the Santa Ana winds would kick up and blow all the cruddy air out to sea, these peaks could be seen again. Most of the time, though, they hid, shrouded by the ever-present moist haze and smog of the Los Angeles basin. When I went to college in Riverside, the views were blocked by lower foothills—ironically, we were “too close” in Riverside to see the peaks. I had taken the Palm Springs Aerial tramway a couple of times while living in Riverside, but had not done much hiking or exploration beyond the upper tram buildings. In fact, I would not climb the peak until almost a year after having moved away from California.

In May 1993, I returned to Southern California from my new home in Arizona for a weekend hike up the peak, accompanied by a bunch of college friends who all still lived in and around Riverside. We chose Memorial Day weekend to meet up and hike the peak, seven of us in all, including many who were on our Mount Whitney hike a year earlier. We “cheated” by knocking off about 8,000 of those vertical feet by taking the Aerial Tram up to the high country, at about 8,500 feet elevation. This would still leave us a six-mile one-way hike to the top with about 2,000 feet of gross gain, so we still had a good workout ahead of us. We were off the tram by mid-morning, and the hike portion went well, other than the extremely muddy trails we encountered, including some areas which were essentially huge shallow lakes. It had been a big snow year in the West in 1993, so we were seeing the after-effects. We still managed to follow the trails for about four miles to a camping area, where we set up our tents for the evening.

The next morning, we set out for the top. Under normal conditions we would have followed trails to the top, but we started hitting substantial snow patches at about 9,000 feet, and by 9,500 feet it was all snow. We followed what trail we could until we gave up and struck out cross-country through the thinning forest. The snow had consolidated very well over the past many weeks, so it was solid, crusty and easy to travel. We hiked by sight toward the summit, generally following saddles and ridges before making the top via its north face. The one-way hike from camp took just a couple miles and a couple hours, and had gone very well for us rookies. The top itself was mostly free of snow and we spent a good while on the summit rocks, enjoying the warmth and the views. There were a lot of hikers on top, many having come up from the Idyllwild side, but the summit is large enough to accommodate a lot of people. We stayed up top for maybe an hour, it seemed. The views, of course, were unbelievable. Unfortunately, the usual mucky air sat west of us, assuredly hiding might San Jacinto from the 10-million or so people living out that way.

The hike down was a mini-adventure. Ironically, the snow was hard enough so that we didn’t leave any tracks to follow for the descent, and we got off the summit on a slightly “wrong” bearing. We encountered some very steep snow slopes, high enough so that a slip could have meant a long, bumpy ride down. We didn’t have any snow-travel gear, so we just took the slopes slowly, butt-scooting some parts, until we were down onto the gentler terrain. From here we just walked downward into the forest until we lost the snow, then back to our camp. We’d been gone maybe six hours total, so we still had a good part of the day to kill back at camp. There was no hurry to pack up and depart, and the other people seemed pretty cool. A ranger gave a talk later that evening. Me, I was listening on my headphones to the seventh game of the NHL Semifinal Series, the Los Angeles Kings against the Toronto Maple Leafs. That was the game the Kings won to advance to their first (and so far only) Stanley Cup Finals against Montreal. When I announced the winner, a lot of people around the camp were happy (and I am sure, some were very perplexed).

We made the hike back to the tramway the following morning, and had a hearty meal at the restaurant before starting the ride down. Back at the bottom I said goodbye to everyone and drove back to Phoenix that afternoon.