Round Trip:
Palomar

Words by Milo Baker
Photography by Noah Fairles
View the route here

My dear friends David Bangor and Max Duck had been telling me about Palomar Mountain’s Nate Harrison Grade over the last few months. Located in northeastern San Diego County, Palomar is one of the highest peaks you can reach from the major towns on the coast. In addition to putting together the route, it was David who told me about the wild amount of riding reachable by train in southern California. And if you are lucky enough to know David Bangor, you know never to turn down one of his routes.

 

Round Trip:
Palomar

Words by Milo Baker
Photography by Noah Fairles
View the route here.

My dear friends David Bangor and Max Duck had been telling me about Palomar Mountain’s Nate Harrison Grade over the last few months. Located in northeastern San Diego County, Palomar is one of the highest peaks you can reach from the major towns on the coast. In addition to putting together the route, it was David who told me about the wild amount of riding reachable by train in southern California. And if you are lucky enough to know David Bangor, you know never to turn down one of his routes.

While Bangor talked up the fabled switchbacks overlooking citrus laded valleys, Max’s account of the road told stories of on-lookers telling him “You’re fucked up” as he climbed the road’s steep and sandy slopes.

Regardless of the accounts of the climb’s brutality, the route up Nate Harrison is legendary and can be reached by most people in southern California via train. It also has an interesting history; Nate Harrison himself (b. 1833) was a man who homesteaded on Palomar Mountain in the 1870’s. Coming to California after escaping slavery in Kentucky, the road that bears Harrison’s name was one of the first roads up the mountain. The road passes the remnants of Harrison’s cabin halfway up. There are endless myths and legends about Nate Harrison’s journey to San Diego, including that he sailed a boat down the Mississippi and around South America. People from all around southern California would make the journey up the grade to visit him. To this day he is one of San Diego County’s most photographed residents.

Back to the ride. With holiday air travel thrown into a frenzy, a canceled flight left David stranded in San Francisco forced to look on as I embarked on the ride we had both planned over the last few months. Luckily one of my oldest friends, Noah Fairles, was visiting LA and would join me for the quest to Palomar.

While Bangor talked up the fabled switchbacks overlooking citrus laded valleys, Max’s account of the road told stories of on-lookers telling him “You’re fucked up” as he climbed the road’s steep and sandy slopes.

Regardless of the accounts of the climb’s brutality, the route up Nate Harrison is legendary and can be reached by most people in southern California via train. It also has an interesting history; Nate Harrison himself (b. 1833) was a man who homesteaded on Palomar Mountain in the 1870’s. Coming to California after escaping slavery in Kentucky, the road that bears Harrison’s name was one of the first roads up the mountain. The road passes the remnants of Harrison’s cabin halfway up. There are endless myths and legends about Nate Harrison’s journey to San Diego, including that he sailed a boat down the Mississippi and around South America. People from all around southern California would make the journey up the grade to visit him. To this day he is one of San Diego County’s most photographed residents.

Back to the ride. With holiday air travel thrown into a frenzy, a canceled flight left David stranded in San Francisco forced to look on as I embarked on the ride we had both planned over the last few months. Luckily one of my oldest friends, Noah Fairles, was visiting LA and would join me for the quest to Palomar.

Leaving Highland Park around 6:30 AM on a Sunday morning, our foggy path to our 7 AM train at Union Station was largely unobstructed. LA is both an overwhelmingly busy city but also a sleepy one at the same time. Many of the traffic laden streets resemble apocalyptic ghost towns late at night and in the early hours of the morning.

Round trip, our train would drop us down the coast in Oceanside at 9:00 AM and pick us back up at 5:57 PM. The first part of the train ride is mostly industrial park scenery typical of greater LA county. The real gem is the trackside graffiti art, which shows up in select galleries along the way. After San Juan Capistrano, the Pacific Ocean opens beside the tracks and its nothing but beachfront views until you reach the Marine Corps Camp Pendleton, where you can see U.S tax dollars at work. Arriving on time, Oceanside was still shrouded in the marine layer, its own chilly microclimate.

After a quick coffee and a short rip down an uninterrupted river path we were able to leave the fogginess behind. It’s not all suburbia and strip malls, the way out to Palomar is unexpectedly good. Cactus lined roads rolled endlessly through the palms and orchards, crossing the occasional highway and sometimes dipping onto smooth dirt roads. Horses peak at you through the walls of cacti and bougainvillea, and every punchy roller has a swoopy descent waiting behind them. With views at the top of most of the climbs there are lots of opportunities to stop and ponder, but maybe save it for Palomar.

Valley Center is the last major stop for food and water before the summit of Palomar Mountain. Luckily corporate America has your back with multiple gas stations available, be sure to fill up before reaching the mountain. The ride out of Valley Center on Cole Grade offers a little climbing warm up before dropping you into Pauma Valley, which is crazy beautiful. Noah and I both regret not stopping before the descent, the views of the mountain and citrus orchards are matched only by the views from the summit. The views are straight out of a 1920’s California post card.

Leaving Highland Park around 6:30 AM on a Sunday morning, our foggy path to our 7 AM train at Union Station was largely unobstructed. LA is both an overwhelmingly busy city but also a sleepy one at the same time. Many of the traffic laden streets resemble apocalyptic ghost towns late at night and in the early hours of the morning.

Round trip, our train would drop us down the coast in Oceanside at 9:00 AM and pick us back up at 5:57 PM. The first part of the train ride is mostly industrial park scenery typical of greater LA county. The real gem is the trackside graffiti art, which shows up in select galleries along the way. After San Juan Capistrano, the Pacific Ocean opens beside the tracks and its nothing but beachfront views until you reach the Marine Corps Camp Pendleton, where you can see U.S tax dollars at work. Arriving on time, Oceanside was still shrouded in the marine layer, its own chilly microclimate.

After a quick coffee and a short rip down an uninterrupted river path we were able to leave the fogginess behind. It’s not all suburbia and strip malls, the way out to Palomar is unexpectedly good. Cactus lined roads rolled endlessly through the palms and orchards, crossing the occasional highway and sometimes dipping onto smooth dirt roads. Horses peak at you through the walls of cacti and bougainvillea, and every punchy roller has a swoopy descent waiting behind them. With views at the top of most of the climbs there are lots of opportunities to stop and ponder, but maybe save it for Palomar.

Valley Center is the last major stop for food and water before the summit of Palomar Mountain. Luckily corporate America has your back with multiple gas stations available, be sure to fill up before reaching the mountain. The ride out of Valley Center on Cole Grade offers a little climbing warm up before dropping you into Pauma Valley, which is crazy beautiful. Noah and I both regret not stopping before the descent, the views of the mountain and citrus orchards are matched only by the views from the summit. The views are straight out of a 1920’s California post card.

 

It was warm further inland and the shaded orange orchards before start of Nate Harrison offered some cooling treatment the climb up the mountain. The citrusy aromas and scent of cool soil made us want to lay in the cool grass beds that lay beneath the trees. But alas we had a train home to catch and a mountain to climb.

Any road with “grade” in its name you can expect to be an ass-kicker of a climb, so you may want to consider lighter gearing for this one as it averages 9.4%. The pavement ends abruptly, but the worn off pavement reveals a hardpacked dirt road. It’s nothing a road bike can’t handle. Nate Harrison winds its way all the way to an old fire lookout at the summit, around 4,200ft from the base in Pauma Valley. While the climb is tough and offers no water stops, it’s silence give you the time to dive deep into your own mind.

On a climb like Nate Harrison my mind can only focus on the simplest things; Like the blobs of sweat slowly breaking their seal from the surface of my face, or a particular part of a song repeated over and over again in my head. While most parts of the body screaming in pain from the bath of lactic acid, the mind that goes completely silent.

With road gearing it was a grind for me and Noah, it’s a wonder we even got any good photos with the amount of sweat in our eyes. We left a lot of salt on that road and in our clothing. The fire lookout tower looms large the whole time, serving as your visual marker for the top. At one point when I thought we were close, a couple that was hiking told me “Oh man, you got a long way to go.”

Thanks.

 

It was warm further inland and the shaded orange orchards before start of Nate Harrison offered some cooling treatment the climb up the mountain. The citrusy aromas and scent of cool soil made us want to lay in the cool grass beds that lay beneath the trees. But alas we had a train home to catch and a mountain to climb.

Any road with “grade” in its name you can expect to be an ass-kicker of a climb, so you may want to consider lighter gearing for this one as it averages 9.4%. The pavement ends abruptly, but the worn off pavement reveals a hardpacked dirt road. It’s nothing a road bike can’t handle. Nate Harrison winds its way all the way to an old fire lookout at the summit, around 4,200ft from the base in Pauma Valley. While the climb is tough and offers no water stops, it’s silence give you the time to dive deep into your own mind.

On a climb like Nate Harrison my mind can only focus on the simplest things; Like the blobs of sweat slowly breaking their seal from the surface of my face, or a particular part of a song repeated over and over again in my head. While most parts of the body screaming in pain from the bath of lactic acid, the mind that goes completely silent.

With road gearing it was a grind for me and Noah, it’s a wonder we even got any good photos with the amount of sweat in our eyes. We left a lot of salt on that road and in our clothing. The fire lookout tower looms large the whole time, serving as your visual marker for the top. At one point when I thought we were close, a couple that was hiking told me “Oh man, you got a long way to go.”

Thanks.

 

Eventually the chaparral disappears and is replaced with the shade of white firs, cedar, and Douglas fir trees. When you start to see these trees, you know you are close to the top. Besides the scenery, there is a small store down the road from the lookout, at the mouth of the descent. The market’s fare revived Noah and I from the hallucinogenic state Nate Harrison’s switchbacks put us in.

The descent off the mountain is wild, letting you know why you made the painful journey to the top. The road drops you headfirst back down to Pauma Valley, through some of the most well engineered corners Noah and I have ever ridden. You hit switchback after switchback and are constantly grappling with trying to enjoy the view and pilot your bike. You float back into valley of immaculate orchards and rolling hills, interrupted only by Martin Short’s inappropriately placed casino.

David Bangor is truly masterful at creating routes. While the way back to oceanside goes through the beige suburban sprawl of Escondido and San Marcos, Bangor’s route avoided most of it. We were able to take in the forgotten valleys, canyons, and small farm roads that exist between the SUV laden housing developments. We skirted roads paralleling small creeks and weaved through the final orchards until we reached the marine layer, which appeared as we reached the bike path we started on.

The moist air felt refreshing as we rolled back into Oceanside, it rehydrated the dried salt on our faces. Thoughts of food and a warm train ride dominated our minds, and we were embraced by the shining lights of the Dominos that lays across the street from the train station. The town itself offers a lot more options for post ride eats, but that garlic-oil crust and stuffed cheesy bread was calling our names. If only David had been there to taste it…

The train offered us warmth, rocking us to sleep like a baby as it plummeted towards LA. We got to dose all the way to Union Station, our minds relaxed, far away from the traffic and angry individuals trapped in metal boxes. Trains afford a lack of thinking, all that is required is having a ticket and that you enjoy the scenery passing by. They even encourage you to have a beer while you ride. Can’t do that in a car…

All in all, we spent less than a tank of gas and took in far more scenery than we would have on the road. The bicycle and the train are a powerful combo, and with the scenery available to us in southern California the quests you can string together are endless. These far-removed but reachable adventures all can be done in a day’s work, door to door, sunup to sunset, round trip.

View the route here.

 

Eventually the chaparral disappears and is replaced with the shade of white firs, cedar, and Douglas fir trees. When you start to see these trees, you know you are close to the top. Besides the scenery, there is a small store down the road from the lookout, at the mouth of the descent. The market’s fare revived Noah and I from the hallucinogenic state Nate Harrison’s switchbacks put us in.

The descent off the mountain is wild, letting you know why you made the painful journey to the top. The road drops you headfirst back down to Pauma Valley, through some of the most well engineered corners Noah and I have ever ridden. You hit switchback after switchback and are constantly grappling with trying to enjoy the view and pilot your bike. You float back into valley of immaculate orchards and rolling hills, interrupted only by Martin Short’s inappropriately placed casino.

David Bangor is truly masterful at creating routes. While the way back to oceanside goes through the beige suburban sprawl of Escondido and San Marcos, Bangor’s route avoided most of it. We were able to take in the forgotten valleys, canyons, and small farm roads that exist between the SUV laden housing developments. We skirted roads paralleling small creeks and weaved through the final orchards until we reached the marine layer, which appeared as we reached the bike path we started on.

The moist air felt refreshing as we rolled back into Oceanside, it rehydrated the dried salt on our faces. Thoughts of food and a warm train ride dominated our minds, and we were embraced by the shining lights of the Dominos that lays across the street from the train station. The town itself offers a lot more options for post ride eats, but that garlic-oil crust and stuffed cheesy bread was calling our names. If only David had been there to taste it…

The train offered us warmth, rocking us to sleep like a baby as it plummeted towards LA. We got to dose all the way to Union Station, our minds relaxed, far away from the traffic and angry individuals trapped in metal boxes. Trains afford a lack of thinking, all that is required is having a ticket and that you enjoy the scenery passing by. They even encourage you to have a beer while you ride. Can’t do that in a car…

All in all, we spent less than a tank of gas and took in far more scenery than we would have on the road. The bicycle and the train are a powerful combo, and with the scenery available to us in southern California the quests you can string together are endless. These far-removed but reachable adventures all can be done in a day’s work, door to door, sunup to sunset, round trip.

View the route here.

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