Smog, and "Not Smog", in Southern California

While looking for some more lovely images of southern California, I came across two that really stood out.  Yes, this blog is largely about the natural world of North America, but every now and then worthy pictures of the artificial world come by that just beg to be posted.  Behold the smog of the Los Angeles and Cucamonga Valleys in its glory:

This shot was taken very high up in the San Bernardino mountains, about a mile above the valley floor.  On a clear day, one can see the forty some miles to the Pacific Ocean, and can definitely make out the Santa Ana mountains, which are largely... not there on the horizon.  To be fair and honest and all that, the coastal basins do have nature working against them in terms of air circulation.

The desert is blowing hot, dry air down into the basins from a few small passes that usually have a steady stream of wind blowing through them.  Sometimes, the deserts themselves are trumped by much colder continental air masses that manage to break through the otherwise insulating wall of the distant Rockies.  The effect is pretty impressive; I have once stood on the leeward side of a house and shivered, while moving to the pass facing side of the same house felt significantly warmer.  On the other side, the ocean, courtesy of the insanely cold California Current, constantly sends in a steady stream of air that is 60 degrees nearly year round.  The end result is something that looks like this:

Yes, quite a mess, and I am not talking about my lack of skill with computer illustration.  The benefit of this pollution and moisture trap is that even far inland, temperatures never quite hit the 120 degree mess that holds the desert areas captive during the summer (though I can assure you, from personal experience, 105 is not much better), and a persistent cloud clover that locals jokingly call June Gloom which provides for moist, refreshing mornings.  The downside is, well, pollution gets trapped in the sky, you can't see the huge mountains all around the place, and funerals are held for the sun.

Again, there is a natural phenomenon behind this artificial mess.  Cabrillo and other explorers reported seeing a haze in the sky that looked like smoke had invaded the clouds, and that just resulted from the cooking fires that the Chumash had used.  Again, modern pollution sources have amplified the effect; dozens of campfires have nothing on thousands of automobiles.  I have yet to witness the look that the clouds, which naturally form during the night and the morning from the cool, moist air of the ocean, have when viewed from above in the mountains.  The basins apparently become filled with a layer of fluffy white cloud (notice, not plural) that extends from mountain to sea.  This is known as the Marine layer by meteorologists, a layer that is far enough above the ground to not be considered actual fog.

At any rate, whether the sky is blocked out by fake clouds or actual clouds, the coastal regions are easy to make out even from far away in the desert.  If the familiar mountain silhouettes are not indication enough, the level dark skies around them are signs that a desert traveler is nearing the western edge of the Mojave and Sonoran deserts.  I vividly recall my first time racing down I-15 towards Victorville and seeing the haze for myself.  I also recall seeing the thermometer drop from 95 to 55 in the space of ten miles when descending Cajon pass the second time.

Smog and "that's not smog, actually" is both fascinating and disgusting at once.  Perhaps one day I can dig up a picture of landing in Mexico City, where the contrast between air and something best called "brown" makes whatever you call it in California look like nothing.  (Mexico City actually is pretty amazing, but wow, do they have a far worse mountain bowl to trap things in than even Los Angeles.)

Come by tomorrow for something a bit more refreshing.