A Morning Hike on Cougar Crest Trail
At 7,500 feet elevation, the air feels different—cleaner, thinner, and filled with pine. Vader and I hit the Cougar Crest Trail early in the morning, just as sunlight was beginning to pierce the tree line. The trail was quiet, peaceful. Most hikers were still sipping coffee somewhere in town. That gave us the mountain almost entirely to ourselves—at least on the way up.
From the start, the trail wove through a gorgeous mixed conifer forest. Towering Jeffrey Pines and Ponderosa Pines reached into the sky, their reddish bark glowing warmly in the rising light. We also passed clusters of White Fir, with their soft needles and graceful form. Dotting the lower slopes and trail edges were tough, fragrant sagebrush and hardy manzanita, their waxy leaves catching the morning sun. In one quiet section, I paused to admire the tangled beauty of a dead, sun-bleached tree—its skeletal limbs twisted like driftwood, a reminder of how alive this landscape really is, even in decay.
Vader, of course, was in his element. His black curls bounced with every excited step, his red harness flashing like a beacon as he led the way. He charged up the trail with his usual enthusiasm, pausing only to greet fellow hikers with the kind of full-body wiggle that said, “I’m the mayor of this mountain now.” More than a few people stopped to admire him, and I heard more than once, “What a handsome boy!” It was clear—Vader was the star of Cougar Crest that day.
About halfway up, we reached a stretch of trail that offered sweeping views of Big Bear Lake below and the snow-dusted San Bernardino Mountains in the distance. The crisp blue sky made everything pop—the greens of the forest, the glittering lake, the subtle silver-blue of sagebrush leaves up close. We took a short break there, catching our breath and drinking some water. The snow patches under the trees were too irresistible for Vader, who dug in and rolled like a pup seeing snow for the first time.
We had our sights set on the summit junction with the Pacific Crest Trail, but as the sun climbed higher and our water bottles ran dry, we made the call to turn around. No summit this time, but no regrets either. It was one of those days where the journey really was the destination.
Coming down, the trail had filled with hikers, but we still had enough trail magic left to share. Vader kept wagging and trotting, greeting new friends, ears perked like a tiny mountain goat. I swear he had a grin the whole way back.
We’ll be back to conquer the summit next time—with extra water in tow. But for now, we’re carrying the memories of a morning well-spent in alpine light, among pines and sage, rock and snow, with one happy pup leading the way.