Hike Redrock Mountain via Fish Canyon Angeles National Forest, CA

Redrock Mountain is located deep within Angeles National Forest, a summit I was looking forward to because its approach follows a trail for most of its duration, and I’m running out of significant peaks in the region that aren’t just typical SoCal road walks or full-on bushwhacks. It sits in the Liebre Range, a compact cluster of hilly peaks tucked between Santa Clarita and I-5. With easy access from the interstate, it was also conveniently located.

Despite its proximity to civilization, the peak’s central position in the range means it requires a substantial effort to reach. The trail leads through the lush greenery typical of SoCal’s lower elevations, so I expected I’d get that wild feeling I sometimes feel when hiking in hot and humid areas like this, full of overgrowth and bugs, and with the bonus of flowing water to cool off in. All of that held true today.

This hike would have been much shorter years ago, before the Templin Highway was closed and vehicles could reach the Cienega Campground directly. Now, the hike begins at a locked gate before the entrance to the Castaic Powerplant. Fortunately, access is still allowed, but it requires a short walk along a paved road closed to vehicles, followed by a longer trek through Fish Canyon to reach the campground.

Once within the Fish Canyon drainage after the abandoned highway walk, I enjoyed the flowing water and steep slopes hemming me in on both sides. I started early, only vaguely acknowledging how hot it might get. Since the canyon was still shaded, I moseyed along without much concern for my future overheated self.

I loved the vibe of the hike to the Cienega Campground. Most of it followed a doubletrack dirt road that crossed Fish Creek multiple times. Farther along, where the canyon narrowed and the dirt road would have been washed away, a concrete section had been constructed. This old concrete road built directly in the watercourse had been nearly destroyed. The slabs were cracked, uneven, and in some places broken clean through. In a few spots, the creek actually flowed right through gaping holes in the concrete. The canyon walls rose steeply around me, squeezing the road between them. It felt peaceful and a little surreal, this manmade thing being pulled back into the earth.

Eventually, I reached the Cienega Campground, not much more than a few dilapidated bathrooms and a wide clearing at the junction of Fish Canyon’s forks. The trail continued north through the wide drainage before reaching the mouth of Fish Canyon’s short narrows. I hiked into them briefly, turning back once my curiosity was satisfied and the canyon began to open up again.

The trail to Redrock Mountain diverges left just before the narrows, on a far less-traveled path than the one I’d followed since the campground. I assume most hikers head into the narrows and then turn around, as I stopped seeing footprints at this point. Thankfully, the first few hundred feet of faint trail were not representative of what followed. Although there had been plenty of poison oak earlier, I’d managed to avoid it so far, but now I had to be more cautious for a short stretch.

I was glad I’d brought my snake gaiters, as plentiful yucca poked at my legs. I found a couple of ticks on me almost immediately, and the sun finally reared its hot, beautiful head, making me instantly regret doing this hike so late in the year. The brush was tolerable, but the trail was in poor shape. I had no trouble staying on course, but I slowed my pace to avoid surprising any snakes. As the trail steeply switchbacked above Fish Canyon, the views opened up and became lovely. It’s unfortunate this trail isn’t maintained, though its remote location explains the lack of visitors.

After ascending the slope, the trail flattened out a bit, making for easier walking. Wildflowers were in bloom, and bees buzzed everywhere, so my new concern was getting stung. Despite how my description sounds, I was still having quite a bit of fun.

Eventually, I reached a saddle on the south side of the Redrock Mountain ridgeline. I paused to take in the views, including the colorful rock formations that, I assume, gave the mountain its name. A few intersecting social trails etched their way up the steep, fairly brush-free slope. Near the top, I encountered some light Class 2 scrambling at the base of a minor outcropping.

Just past that, I reached Red Rock Benchmark, a minor lump that appears on some peakbagging list. When I opened the summit register, a mouse scurried out. I kid you not.

The true summit of Redrock Mountain was visible to the north, a bit over a mile long ridgeline away. A short bit of Class 2 bouldering got me off Red Rock Benchmark and onto the undulating ridge. The hike to the high point was mostly brush-free, aside from clusters of yucca and the occasional patch of tall grass, but I still pulled at least a dozen ticks off me along the way. One significant lump on the ridge added a bit of extra vertical gain.

From the summit of Redrock Mountain, I soaked in views of the surrounding area, including Liebre Mountain to the north and Alamo Mountain far to the west. I briefly considered continuing north to an unnamed peak about a mile away, but it wasn’t especially inspiring, and I was tired of picking off ticks. I called Redrock my turnaround point and felt content with that.

Back at the saddle, I briefly toyed with the idea of creating a loop by descending through Red Rock Canyon instead of returning via Fish Canyon. But that route likely sees almost no traffic, and I was already scraped up by brush and sunburned, so I passed. Later research confirmed that this was probably the right choice since that trail is reportedly even more overgrown than the one I had taken.