Side tracked: Cactus šŸŒµ to Clouds ā˜ļø

Every so often Iā€™ll detour from my 100 Peaks journey to sample what hills are available a little further afield. This one seemed like a perfect start to those types of stories.


Cactus šŸŒµ to Clouds ā˜ļø (Mt San Jacinto)

Widely regarded as one of the toughest hikes in the United States, the journey up Mt. San Jacinto is nothing short of relentless. Starting at the base in Palm Springs, the trail climbs nearly 11,000 feet over 15.5 grueling miles to the summit. Tackling this challenge requires careful planning, solid execution, and a healthy dose of perseveranceā€”all of which were put to the test on this unforgettable day.


Planning and Preparation

The plan for this adventure started weeks earlier during a casual chat at Double Peak Run Club, where we tentatively set November 9th as the date for our climb. Everything seemed to be falling into placeā€”until word came that the trail was closed by San Jacinto State Park. With that news, the trip seemed all but canceled.

Then, in a surprise twist, the week of November 9th brought an announcement from the park: the trail was reopening immediately. Most of the original group had already dropped out due to the uncertainty, but Steeve and I decided to move forward anyway.

I felt ready. Over the past month, Iā€™d been steadily building my fitness with over 120 miles logged and about 10,000 feet of elevation gain. I packed my Salomon Adv Skin 12 running vest with all the essentials:

ā€¢ Snacks: fig bars, trail mix, gummies, meat sticks, and waffles.

ā€¢ Hydration: 1L of Liquid IV (Strawberry and Golden Cherry flavors) and 2.5L of water, plus extra Liquid IV packets.

The snacks would more than suffice, but I was wary about water. With temperatures dropping near freezing at the summit, there was a strong chance that any running water sources along the trail would be frozen. Better safe than sorry.

We had a general timeline in mind, inspired by the fastest runner at Double Peak Run Club, who had completed this hike in just over six hours. Factoring in our more moderate pace, we estimated it would take about nine hours to finish.

With an early start in mind, we hit the road from San Diego at 1:00 AM, arriving at the trailhead by 2:45 AM. By 3:00 AM, we were geared up and ready to go, stepping out into the crisp 42-degree air. We layered up, tucked hand warmers into our gloves, and set off into the dark, ready to tackle San Jacinto.


Trail Experience

Even with a 3AM start, the trailhead was far from desertedā€”it felt more alive than expected.

We parked on the street near the Palm Springs Art Museum, and even at that hour, parking spots were going fast. Other hikers were already preparing for the long day ahead, their headlights bobbing in the dark as they packed up and stretched. We exchanged nods and quiet well-wishes, a silent camaraderie before the challenge.

The trail begins modestly, marked by occasional spray-painted dots to guide the way. But soon, those markers disappear, leaving a winding single track that ascends relentlessly. It weaves its way over false peaks, each one testing your resolve.

Between 3AM and 5AM, the only signs of others were the scattered glow of headlamps ahead or behind us. Sometimes those lights acted as motivation to keep climbing; other times, they served as gentle reminders that we werenā€™t alone on this uphill grind. Over the first few miles, we passed about ten hikers, all with the same idea: an early start to beat the midday heat and finish strong.

By 5:30AM, the horizon started to glow with the first signs of daybreakā€”a welcome reprieve after 2.5 hours of darkness. Watching the sunrise from the mountains feels earned, a gift reserved for those willing to push through the early hours. The peaks were bathed in soft pink light, it made us pause, pocket our headlamps, and soak in the stillness.

Along the trail, there are two designated ā€œrescueā€ points, marked by metal boxes stocked with sparse suppliesā€”water, snacks, and a few essentials donated by kind-hearted hikers. These are meant for emergencies only. At Rescue 1 (around Mile 5), itā€™s a sign to reconsider and return to the trailhead if things arenā€™t going well. By the time you reach Rescue 2 (around Mile 7.5), the better option is often to press on toward the Tram Station. Luckily, Steeve and I were merely observers of these caches, not beneficiaries.

Between miles 8 and 10, the trail reaches a brutal sectionā€”steep, unstable, and entirely exposed in places. Itā€™s the kind of climb that demands hands-on-knees effort and unwavering focus to stay on track. This stretch is as dangerous as it is exhausting, with sheer drop-offs requiring deliberate steps and frequent pauses to catch your breath.

Finally, the trees thin out, and the trail levels near the Ranger Stationā€”a brief reprieve that feels like a second wind. The flat ground is a relief, but itā€™s more than that: itā€™s the signal that the summit isnā€™t far off. Reaching this point brings a surge of energy, the kind that only comes when the peak feels within reach.


Reaching the Summit

For my first time summiting a major peak after climbing every inch of it, the experience was nothing short of extraordinary.

The summit was sereneā€”no wind, a perfectly crisp temperature, and just one or two other hikers sharing the space. It felt like a reward crafted just for us. I perched on the tallest rock, gazing out over the Coachella Valley and nearby giants like San Gorgonio, completely mesmerized by the view.

If it werenā€™t for the thought of hot food and drink waiting back at the Tram Station, I might have stayed up there all day. Just a few feet below the peak, I discovered a stone shelter, complete with bunk beds and a fire pitā€”a dream spot for an overnight adventure. It was the kind of place that made you want to linger, soaking in the moment just a little longer.


The Descent

I took a moment to rechargeā€”polished off the last of my snacks, topped up on hydration, and let the accomplishment sink in. Then it was time for the descent, and my legs had a mind of their own. As soon as I hit the downhills, my feet couldnā€™t wait to move. I bounded from rock to rock, weaving around hikers making their way up, feeling light and energized.

The trip to the Tram Station flew byā€”or at least it felt that way. After spending eight hours grinding through 30-minute miles, just about anything feels quick in comparison.


Reflections and Takeaways

This hike had been sitting on my bucket list for a while, and Iā€™m glad to finally check it off.

Hiking with Steeve made the experience even betterā€”heā€™s the kind of trail partner who never complains, pushes through the tough moments, and brings great energy to these long adventures.

One big takeaway from this trip: over-preparing is always worth it. Carrying extra water and snacks might make your pack heavier, but I never once doubted that I had everything I needed to finish strong.

We tackled this hike in November, with cool, manageable temperatures. Attempting it in the summer? Thatā€™s a completely different beast. Be ready.


Previous
Previous

100 Peaks: #4 Bernardo Mountain & #5 Battle Mountain

Next
Next

100 Peaks: #3 Stonewall Peak