Terror on Trafton

SOTA summit: Trafton Mountain https://sotl.as/map/coordinates/37.851320,-118.567070/14.0?popup=1

Activation Date: October 4, 2025

Unique: Yes, peak number 317

Call sign used: W6PNG

Portable operation: Yes

Radios: Elecraft KX2

Antennas: LNR EndFed

Band/Modes used: 20m, 30m 40m CW

Operating highlights:

• Spectacular views
• Read on to find more details

Pack weight: Approximately 15 lbs

Drive: Park by Black Lakes Preserve

Hike:  ~3 miles R/T with ~1,250 ft ascent. 

Hike and AZ profile:

• Steep, bouldered, fallen trees, soft underfoot and no trail
• Remote, good luck running into a fellow hiker
• Tree covered peak, good for antenna fixture
• Incredible views

Recommend: Yes

Solo operation: With Rico M

Cell Coverage: Good cell coverage 

Route:

Photos: Copyright Paul Gacek 2025

You get a choice. 

Either pick a pretty serious peak in the Sierra Nevada mountains or wander east into the high desert and pick a more diminutive peak. The Sierras are pointy, lunar and jagged while the high desert can be more rounded, covered in pine and sage, pretending to be approachable until it takes something from you.

Much of the western USA high desert is criss-crossed with dirt roads, maybe for ranching, often for pole line access or the old favorite, mining. 

Long before the first activation, I had pointed my Jeep through a network of dirt roads only to discover the ever deteriorating roads exceeded the comfort level of the driver and then an abandoned attempt.

Smarter folk than me journeyed to the peak from the opposite side trading boots for tires.

Learning from them our vehicle has deposited us at the upper reaches of Black Lake Preserve, and we find ourselves legging it along a ranch fence that retains a herd of black cows happily munching on saline grass.

It’s mid-afternoon, we are on our second peak hike of the day, somewhat tired, this feels like a slog but then again it’s often a slog. Nevertheless, I’m excited as this is possibly a new unique peak for me and a chance to redress my poor Jeeping skills from years ago.

It’s a steep and occasionally brutal ascent. 45 degree incline, soft sand that sometimes has us descending, rocks, boulders, sage and pines to navigate, all remind me why I had favored the Jeep trail approach years earlier. 

A wall of boulders has us jockeying west to crest a ridge and hopefully drop into a raised meadow between two ridges that lead up to the peak that we had spotted on the drive in

I rely heavily on Gaia maps on my phone to help steer us through contours, avoid false peaks and arrive at our destination. Despite a certain amount of zigzagging we arrive, the phone being in and out of my pocket in a somewhat trained robotic manner.

The radio aspect of this hike (aka activation) is fun. Pre and post radio work is always a time to look around. Directly east is the northern end of the White Mountains, covered in snow, pushing up to 13,500ft and, to my delight, a clear view of Boundary Peak that we had “conquered” a few years early before the SOTA police decided it wasn’t a real SOTA peak but rather a hanger on to the real deal, Montgomery.

Looking west shows Black Lake and provides a sense of the 1,200 ft elevation we had put between it and us.

Descents can be easy, sometimes easier than the ascent, but not always. To some degree we reverse the ascent, navigating fallen trees, roots, rocks and all the things that nature loves to trip us up on.

I’ve never been a big proponent of fast fashion. I have Patagonia gear that is 20+ years old, boots wear out quickly, pants get torn sliding down rocks but all in all I like to use my gear to its fullest.

The REI pants aren’t new but still function and look just fine.

I reach into the pocket and find no phone. I trade momentary bewilderment checking the pocket again and my hands for panic. I’ve lost my phone. The weld of the outside trouser pocket had simply decayed over time. Quite invisible to the eye but straight in goes the phone and slides straight out.

Looking back up the mountain I think this is an impossible task ahead of us. Rico calls my phone, nothing. Apple Watch, “Find My Phone” feature simply yields yet another pathetic Siri response how she can’t help me. We walk up looking across the terrain. Nothing. We go higher, nothing. Sideways, nothing. We zigzag across the terrain and still nothing. I think of all the snaps I’ve taken that are lost. That thought is replaced with the huge realization that replacing a phone isn’t going  to be quick nor easy given our locale. Minutes turn to ten minutes, then maybe twenty. I’m not sure when to give up. It’s mid afternoon, we are still most of the way up the peak and somewhat tired. Sunset is 2-3 hours hence.

I feel sorry for myself, lament and say a small prayer. 

Desperation instantly turns to real hope. 

Suddenly, sunlight flashes. One improbable glint, three tiny lenses winking from the sage. I freeze, step forward. The phone lies face-down, waiting. One in a million.

Hallelujah, it’s found, I’m saved.

I reflect that maybe a black bump case was a poor choice. Maybe shocking pink, bright orange, maybe even gold colored but not black. 

I wonder if the fine lads and lasses at Apple have ever tested losing a phone in the wilderness or just a Cupertino Starbucks where cellular  and Wi-Fi abound. At some point, I had been easily within bluetooth range of my watch yet Siri and Co couldn’t garner that into anything useful.

Griping aside, my terror wasn’t about finding the trail home — it was realizing just how precious this slab of glass has become. A miner from a hundred and fifty years ago would laugh, and rightly so.