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The sherpas of YouTube
All Trails had failed, Google Maps, had failed
Mount San Miguel, seemingly visible from everywhere in East County.
Mount San Miguel
- An unofficial hiking trail to the top of San Diego’s 84th highest, but perhaps most visible East County peak.
- Distance from downtown San Diego: 16 miles
- Hike length: Roughly 5 miles
- Difficulty: Moderately difficult
- Season: Year-round, but pay attention to temperature
The first time I tried climbing Mt. San Miguel, I went up the wrong mountain. About an hour into the effort, I rounded a bend and spied the actual Mt. San Miguel off in the distance. “Huh,” I said to myself, “If that’s San Miguel, then where am I?”
Let me explain: I had looked on All Trails, and the only trails that contained the name “Miguel” that weren’t also labeled “CLOSED” were those titled “Mother Miguel.” That must be it, I had thought, ignoring the mountainous gender-flip. Nope. Turns out Mother Miguel is the short peak in front of Mt. San Miguel. (It’s still a nice hike with great views of Sweetwater reservoir, even if it is a bit crowded on weekends).
Ever since moving to East County about a decade ago, I have been obsessed with the idea of climbing Mt. San Miguel. Even though it’s far from the highest peak in San Diego County (officially, it ranks 84th), it is perhaps the most prominent when seen from the city. It looms into view from Chula Vista up into La Mesa and out to Rancho. As you drive around town, it’s always there, saying, “Come, climb me, I am here.” And unlike its slightly shorter but more accessible cousin Mt. Helix to the north, it’s undeveloped, scarred only by numerous TV antennas dating back to a time when TVs had rabbit ears and a high point was needed to broadcast signals effectively around our hilly city.
This is the way.
Finding my first attempt thwarted and All Trails to be of little use, I turned to Google Maps. Now, if you look at Google Maps, the way looks simple enough. Take Millar Ranch Road and drive on up. It’s not hiking, but at least I could go to the top. Nope again. I found the road gated off, plus No Trespassing signs. What? The highest, most iconic point of the San Diego City area, and you can’t hike it? What is this?
A Brief History of Mt. San Miguel…or, How They Managed to Screw Up East County (Part 72 of 1001): Once upon a time, Mt San Miguel was going to host the Hotel Del of East County. In 1890 Alfred Isham, who had made his fortune selling water from Spring Valley as a miracle cure called “California Waters for Life,” and H.L Story, a partner in the construction of the Hotel Del, planned to build an “astronomical observatory, park, hotel, and music pavilion on 160 acres atop Mount San Miguel” (Adema, Thomas J. 1993. Our Hills and Valleys. pg. 102), complete with a gondola providing rides to the top. Unfortunately, purveyors of Spring Valley Miracle Water don’t always make the most trusted of partners, Isham took the money, went back to selling his water, and nothing was built.
Strike Three?
When you tell a hiker they’re not allowed to hike a peak, you can bet they’re going to try to hike that peak. Having struck out twice, I was determined. All Trails had failed, Google Maps, had failed…what say you, YouTube? Eureka! I found several videos of people making the journey (including one of a guy paragliding down after his ascent).
Using satellite maps, I retraced the route those YouTubers had taken, starting from Millar Ranch Road. I picked a date and started training. My hiking partner of choice was my brother, who has completed three Ironman triathalons and more marathons than I can remember. When the day came, we parked at the trailhead for the Millar Ranch Road Hike. (There’s a longer way from the base by the Sweetwater Bridge, should you be in better shape than I am, which seems entirely likely.) At first, we followed the utility access roads that crisscross the mountain under the powerlines. These were broad trails, fairly steep, and a little slippery at points. We met a rattlesnake stretched out and sunbathing across the trail. My brother poked him (not advisable), and he coiled, rattled, and hissed until we convinced him that we were not going back the way we came and he moved into the bush. Then we got lost. The access roads don’t go all the way to the top. There is a small dirt path that you can just barely make out on the satellite map, but it’s super hard to find. This had me going back and forth for quite some time until my little dot on Google maps lined up with the path.
I’m not sure when the satellite images were taken, but I think it must have been a while back, because the “path” was really hard to follow: overgrown in spots, always steep, and sometimes passing over rocks, so that there was no trail to be seen. We climbed on, picking our way through the growth. No switchbacks, just straight up. After my fourth or fifth stop to catch my breath, my brother assured me, “Don’t worry. I’m not thinking of this as exercise.”
After the often-invisible path, I was grateful for the easy road to the towers at the peak.
Eventually, the little trail popped out onto the paved road that took us the rest of the way up to the antennas — and the view. And what a view: Otay Lake, Sweetwater, the Pacific, Coronado, Downtown, Mexico, and so many beautiful peaks further east: El Cap, McGinty, up to Iron Mountain — you name it. We took the requisite selfies and made our way down, this time on the paved road. Uh-oh! Halfway down, we hit a “No Trespassing” sign. Who knew? (Technically it was the first we had seen along our route). We veered off onto a side path, passed by a lovely seasonal pond, and followed Millar’s Ranch Road back to our car. Success!
The Verdict
Is it worth climbing? Oh yes. In addition to the view, there’s different plant life at the top. Up there, the Sage Brush, Coyote Brush, California Buckwheat are joined by Ceanothus and countless other plants that prefer a higher elevation and whose names I don’t yet know. But as it stands, it seems that 1960s TV antennas are more important than opening up one of San Diego’s treasures to the public. As usual, East County is left unplanned, unsupported and treated like a disreputable poor relation,, not worthy of the nice things given to people on the coast. If we East County residents weren’t all so busy trying to afford rent and groceries, I’d say a movement towards freeing Mt San Miguel could sweep the lands east of the 805. Hikers Unite!
Here's something you might be interested in.
The sherpas of YouTube
All Trails had failed, Google Maps, had failed
The sherpas of YouTube
All Trails had failed, Google Maps, had failed
Mount San Miguel, seemingly visible from everywhere in East County.
Mount San Miguel
- An unofficial hiking trail to the top of San Diego’s 84th highest, but perhaps most visible East County peak.
- Distance from downtown San Diego: 16 miles
- Hike length: Roughly 5 miles
- Difficulty: Moderately difficult
- Season: Year-round, but pay attention to temperature
The first time I tried climbing Mt. San Miguel, I went up the wrong mountain. About an hour into the effort, I rounded a bend and spied the actual Mt. San Miguel off in the distance. “Huh,” I said to myself, “If that’s San Miguel, then where am I?”
Let me explain: I had looked on All Trails, and the only trails that contained the name “Miguel” that weren’t also labeled “CLOSED” were those titled “Mother Miguel.” That must be it, I had thought, ignoring the mountainous gender-flip. Nope. Turns out Mother Miguel is the short peak in front of Mt. San Miguel. (It’s still a nice hike with great views of Sweetwater reservoir, even if it is a bit crowded on weekends).
Ever since moving to East County about a decade ago, I have been obsessed with the idea of climbing Mt. San Miguel. Even though it’s far from the highest peak in San Diego County (officially, it ranks 84th), it is perhaps the most prominent when seen from the city. It looms into view from Chula Vista up into La Mesa and out to Rancho. As you drive around town, it’s always there, saying, “Come, climb me, I am here.” And unlike its slightly shorter but more accessible cousin Mt. Helix to the north, it’s undeveloped, scarred only by numerous TV antennas dating back to a time when TVs had rabbit ears and a high point was needed to broadcast signals effectively around our hilly city.
This is the way.
Finding my first attempt thwarted and All Trails to be of little use, I turned to Google Maps. Now, if you look at Google Maps, the way looks simple enough. Take Millar Ranch Road and drive on up. It’s not hiking, but at least I could go to the top. Nope again. I found the road gated off, plus No Trespassing signs. What? The highest, most iconic point of the San Diego City area, and you can’t hike it? What is this?
A Brief History of Mt. San Miguel…or, How They Managed to Screw Up East County (Part 72 of 1001): Once upon a time, Mt San Miguel was going to host the Hotel Del of East County. In 1890 Alfred Isham, who had made his fortune selling water from Spring Valley as a miracle cure called “California Waters for Life,” and H.L Story, a partner in the construction of the Hotel Del, planned to build an “astronomical observatory, park, hotel, and music pavilion on 160 acres atop Mount San Miguel” (Adema, Thomas J. 1993. Our Hills and Valleys. pg. 102), complete with a gondola providing rides to the top. Unfortunately, purveyors of Spring Valley Miracle Water don’t always make the most trusted of partners, Isham took the money, went back to selling his water, and nothing was built.
Strike Three?
When you tell a hiker they’re not allowed to hike a peak, you can bet they’re going to try to hike that peak. Having struck out twice, I was determined. All Trails had failed, Google Maps, had failed…what say you, YouTube? Eureka! I found several videos of people making the journey (including one of a guy paragliding down after his ascent).
Using satellite maps, I retraced the route those YouTubers had taken, starting from Millar Ranch Road. I picked a date and started training. My hiking partner of choice was my brother, who has completed three Ironman triathalons and more marathons than I can remember. When the day came, we parked at the trailhead for the Millar Ranch Road Hike. (There’s a longer way from the base by the Sweetwater Bridge, should you be in better shape than I am, which seems entirely likely.) At first, we followed the utility access roads that crisscross the mountain under the powerlines. These were broad trails, fairly steep, and a little slippery at points. We met a rattlesnake stretched out and sunbathing across the trail. My brother poked him (not advisable), and he coiled, rattled, and hissed until we convinced him that we were not going back the way we came and he moved into the bush. Then we got lost. The access roads don’t go all the way to the top. There is a small dirt path that you can just barely make out on the satellite map, but it’s super hard to find. This had me going back and forth for quite some time until my little dot on Google maps lined up with the path.
I’m not sure when the satellite images were taken, but I think it must have been a while back, because the “path” was really hard to follow: overgrown in spots, always steep, and sometimes passing over rocks, so that there was no trail to be seen. We climbed on, picking our way through the growth. No switchbacks, just straight up. After my fourth or fifth stop to catch my breath, my brother assured me, “Don’t worry. I’m not thinking of this as exercise.”
After the often-invisible path, I was grateful for the easy road to the towers at the peak.
Eventually, the little trail popped out onto the paved road that took us the rest of the way up to the antennas — and the view. And what a view: Otay Lake, Sweetwater, the Pacific, Coronado, Downtown, Mexico, and so many beautiful peaks further east: El Cap, McGinty, up to Iron Mountain — you name it. We took the requisite selfies and made our way down, this time on the paved road. Uh-oh! Halfway down, we hit a “No Trespassing” sign. Who knew? (Technically it was the first we had seen along our route). We veered off onto a side path, passed by a lovely seasonal pond, and followed Millar’s Ranch Road back to our car. Success!
The Verdict
Is it worth climbing? Oh yes. In addition to the view, there’s different plant life at the top. Up there, the Sage Brush, Coyote Brush, California Buckwheat are joined by Ceanothus and countless other plants that prefer a higher elevation and whose names I don’t yet know. But as it stands, it seems that 1960s TV antennas are more important than opening up one of San Diego’s treasures to the public. As usual, East County is left unplanned, unsupported and treated like a disreputable poor relation,, not worthy of the nice things given to people on the coast. If we East County residents weren’t all so busy trying to afford rent and groceries, I’d say a movement towards freeing Mt San Miguel could sweep the lands east of the 805. Hikers Unite!
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