I’ve accidentally done my last two big rides through areas in California recently on fire. Or maybe there are just so many areas that have been on fire in the last decade that this is inevitable.
This time, the ride was along the Rincon trail in Angeles National Forest, which suffered through the Bobcat Fire in 2020. This fire was impactful for me, personally, because it was still very much lockdown mode when it was burning, and it was visible every single day from my window. It also closed down much of the nearby forest that I like to ride in, and threatened the Mount Wilson Observatory.
Much of the Bobcat fire area reopened in 2021, but the Rincon trail, which cuts east-west through the forest, was closed until recently. I’d only done this ride once before, back in 2017, so I was excited to take it on again. It’s one of those rides that doesn’t look all that tough on paper—but it’s filled with deceptively rolling hills, and a sense of desolation (I saw exactly 0 people), that puts you in a space where it’s more of a test of mental toughness than one might expect. It was also really fucking hot the day I took it on, but I knew this was my last chance before it’d be too hot to try again in the fall.
Knowing the heat was incoming, and wanting to save my legs as much as I could, I took the train from my neighborhood out to Azusa, where I started the ride going up the 39. I quickly learned that something along the 39 is extremely popular on the 4th of July (I still do not know what this is—Crystal Lake, maybe? The reservoirs? Who knows?!), and the highway was bumper to bumper traffic the entire way, even at 7 in the morning. This was… strange feeling on a bike, to say the least. On one hand, it’s nice to not get buzzed by dozens of speed demon drivers thinking their shitty Acura is a F1 car, on the other hand, it was literally a none-stop line of cars for 9 miles going up like 2,500 feet of elevation. Awkward! But also very funny to pass some dirtbag in a F150 on the shoulder and beat him to the top.
In any case, I hit the dirt turnoff soon enough, and was blissfully away from the buzz of traffic in no time. From here, it’s 26 miles of uninterrupted dirt road with around 3,500 feet of elevation—technically an OHV trail, but I don’t think OHVs actually use it. It is, like most trails in Angeles National Forest, essentially a fire road. Because of the recent re-opening, and trail work, it was well packed and pretty smooth, all things considered.
This ends up feeling like one of the most desolate rides in the area. Due to its length and location, it’s not a popular hiking area. And since it’s essentially a cut-through the forest, with no peaks or rivers or scenic spots, it’s not terribly popular for bikes either. There’s not many ways to utilize this trail unless you’re doing the ride I did, which gets real big, real quick, depending on where you’re starting from. The train’s the only way to keep this one sane during the summer, as three water bottles still left me dry by the time I got to the one place with water (Red Box).
The heat was really beating down on me at some point around 10 am or so, and just never let up after that, so I didn’t stop to take many pictures. It was that type of heat where you feel sick to your stomach—I had to force myself to eat, and no matter what I ate, it felt like dry sawdust in my mouth.
It was pretty astounding how much of the fire damage was already recovered, though, and you wouldn’t know how much of this was torched just four years ago. That’s with the exception of one area, where I tried to get an artsy shot of some flowers growing in from the deadwood, but the photo turned out to… mostly just get smudge trees in the background with the flowers lacking the “pop” they had in real life. It was a nice idea, though!
My original plan for this ride was to get water and take a break at Red Box, then cruise up a little bit to Mount Lowe and head down the dirt trail from there. But I was too exhausted and my brain was boiled so much that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle Lowe—which at the start feels like trying to ride your bike in a bouncy castle filled with sharp, fist-sized rocks. Instead, I took the 2 down, stopped off at a gas station for an actually chilled drink, and cruised home from there.
Here’s the route.
