Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 150, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 June 1912 — Up the Big Santa Anita [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Up the Big Santa Anita

IT WAS a glorious morning. The rains seemed to have turned their attentions elsewhere for the time being. AH the mountains stood clear-cut against, . the . blue, with tops whitened by snow; -the foothills and the whole valley were wearing the new green mantle of spring. We had taken the early car for Sierra Madre, a ear always filled on "days off” with a merry collection of city -folk who love the wild and who yearn the week through for the higher places, the rocky canyons and the dashing streams, and for the racing blood, red cheeks and renewed energy that such retreats give to. those who seek them, writes H. C. Hurst, In the Los Angeles Times. Our objective point was the Big Santa Anita. Neither Henry nor I had ever been in this canyOn. We had seen . its little sister many a time as we climbed up the Mt. Wilson trail, but there is always an added sest in the unknown, in not knowing what is ahead around the next corner in _a new town, around the next bend in the trail, or what the next week, or month or year holds for us in that larger journey called Life. We questioned our nearest fellow-passenger, a young fellow in complete corduroy suit and mountain boots, who looked as though he bad always climbed mountains. Yes, he had been clear through the Big Santa Anita, and there were some ticklish places in it, but we could make it all right He himself was bound for the west fork of the San Gabriel by way of Mt Mllson.

It seemed no time at all before we were stepping from the car la beautiful Sierra Madre, and before the train crew would have time to turn their trolley pole the whole crowd was streaming up the road toward the foot of “the everlasting hills.” Most of these bearers of lunches and kodaks kept on to where the burros in their corrals watched with big, brown eyes at the foot of the Mt Wilson trail. We turned to our right and followed a roadway which led down hill, across a silver creek, and up a long grade through groves of orange and lemon, with now and then a bungalow showing about the green leaves. The trees were loaded with fruit, and a man who did riot look in the least like a grouch was carrying a large armful of signboards and planting them at frequent intervals along the edge of his golden acres, said boards threatening dire things to the person who dared to more than look at the yellow temptations on his trees.

atari Up Canyon.

We cut through an orange grove and came out on a high mesa overlooking the wash and heard the roaring of the stream as it dashed over the large boulders as though deadly eager to meet with the San Gabriel river out thore in the valley and compare notes on their respective trips through the mountains. A Jarg; party of boys and girls were scrambling down the bank when we arrived, and as they stopped to take a picture of the group we passed theta and started up the canyon. We realized at once that it was a time of high water and that travel up through those narrow passes would be a vastly different affair than in midsummer, when the streams are low. Indeed we kept dry from the start only by making almost impossible leaps from boulder to boulder, or by working • our way along the walls of the cliff by precarious handholds. Finding some better going, we pressed on and came at last to a scene of wonderful beauty, but one which seemed to block all farther progress up the canyon. Walla of solid rock towered high In the air on every side save that from which we had approached. At their base a vast pool was spread like a lake, probably 60 feet across, and of great depth, and into this leaped from a cleft In the cliff the whole river, a beautiful waterfall some 25 feet In height. Two bikers had preceded us, and we sat down and watched them cross the shallowest part of the pool and climb ap the very crude ladder which leaned against the ciiffjmd led to the top of the falls. It seemed to take them a long while to cross the stream at the top of the ladder, and when we followed them we did aot wonder, as we found ourselves standing on a shelf

of rock a foot In width, from which place a flying leap must be made across the st&ream, with .only a sloping rock wall to land upon. Some way Henry made it without falling in, and with his. help I too got across, but slipped after safety was reached, and as a result I found it expedient to climb up the mountainside, which here sloped conveniently, and lie in the warm sun And dry out House of the Hermit. Soon the canyon narrowed and where the creek rushed between vertical wails we must needs wade the stream. Off came the shoes and stockings, and in we went It was a cold Job. I’m sure that ice water would be only milk-warm ,in comparison to that little river. Thus we went on, wading when necessary, and resuming our shoes and walking when we could. -- Later we sat by the big pool, churned by a plunging waterfall, and watched several trout as they darted about in thee liquid home. And when we went on again, Henry, with hiß usual luck, passed this pool dry-shod, and 1 slipped down the smooth side of a rock big as a house, and plumped into the sitting room of the trout From this time on I was not so particular about tniting off my. shoes and stockings before entering the stream. When the canyon opened out a little and there was at last a trail - through vines and trees and ferns high above the creek, we hurried along and covered some miles In short time, only to be confronted by a wall across the canyon, down which leaped a large fall in three cascades of tumbling silver. We saw the gAtae was up in that direction, but were glad to find a trail leading up the side of the hill and over a divide; and standing at the top, we knew we were about to reaeb our goal, for below us the stream ran circling through a valley and several stone houses or huts. Soon we were in the house of the Hermit, and were drying out before the wood fire on the hearth. Outside, the river roared along under the naked trees, and the wind tore by the cabin, shrieking that a storm was coming. But little we cared as we undid our lunch and accepted: at the hands of the Hermit tin cups of brack and steaming coffee. It mattered not that it wa# poured from an ancient sprinkling can, or that the room was not up to good housewife standards of neatness. Poor Hermit! For ten, years this room has been his library, granary, kitchen, wood-house and storeroom. But his hear? was kind as his black beard was long, and when he found a silver dollar in one of the returned coffee cups, the presence of which none ot ns could account for, his protestations were long and sincere. ~ \

At three o’clock that afternoon we left our shelter, and bidding the Hermit goodby, started up the steep trail to the top of the ridge. Soon we were above the noise of the Stream, but the wind was louder than ever, and rain started to fall, changing soon to a sleet “However, It was only the edge of the storm that we were hi; across the canyon and back on the far ther ranges we could see the clouds dropping their burdens of moisture in great sheets, and saw soon, too, the slopes whiten under falling snow. As we came Out on top of the divide snow was coming down upon us, also, and through its filmy curtain we looked out and saw the Ban Gabriel valley shining in the sun and the new green on the MBs on the farther sideappearIng like great crinkly folds in a doth of velvet, a rare and never-to-be-for-gotten view. W [ 7

NEARING THE CANYON