Trail Talk – August 2024

OKAY, A QUICK QUIZ to start off this monthly installment: When driving on a mountain road, such as the approach to the Upper Britt parking area, or on either Reservoir or Norling Road in Forest Park, should uphill or downhill traffic yield the right-of-way on steep, narrow sections? For folks unfamiliar with mountain driving etiquette, it is customary (and the law in California) for downhill traffic to yield. A quick Google search will reveal that it is understood that downhill traffic has a much better field of vision and so, if necessary, must back-up to a spot where the uphill vehicle is able to safely pass.

Regarding trails, the same custom holds forth. Two stretches of trail in Forest Park, on the steep climbs up Lower Ol’ Miners’ and Upper Rail Trails, signs have been erected as a reminder.

On that note, we’d also like to remind hikers that it is customary (and courteous) to leave the designated mountain bike trails to the exclusive use of bikers. Common sense dictates that a cyclist, while riding on a trail exclusively for cycling, may not be able to safely negotiate a situation involving a hiker, and the resulting “accident” puts both parties at risk of injury. That said, cyclists should be aware that hikers may not be the only obstacle along a trail and should be traveling at a reasonable speed. So, new signs now adorn the approaches to exclusive mountain biking trails in Forest Park, courtesy of longtime volunteer Tony Hess, along with funding from JWA.

Now that summer is fully upon us, we find ourselves looking to travel in cooler environs. The early morning excursions become mandatory for those remaining in the lowland valleys. A streamside trail beckons, but as the season drags on, too soon the babbling brook becomes a bed of boiling boulders, the water traveling far below the surface to emerge occasionally in seasonal pools and springs. The wild things know these special areas, and the quiet and observant traveler is often treated to rare glimpses of our secretive woodland neighbors. Birdsong becomes muted in the hot afternoon, though hermit thrush haunts us with its plaintive cry, so close at hand, yet seemingly far off.

This is the season to take our dusty footwear to higher elevations, to trails recently abandoned by the swarming mosquitoes of early summer. Here, the wildflowers hold on for all they’re worth, their day in the sun seemingly ephemeral as the nights begin to lengthen and cooler times draw nigh. Pollinators of all shapes and sizes race to be the first to the nectar, and the wafting clouds of butterflies, in all their summer finery, compete with the blossoms for “Best Dressed.” Soon, huckleberries, wild blackberries, and elderberries will ripen. Delicate fungi will emerge.

It’s this turning of the calendar page that reminds us that we live in a world of change. Our feet may travel where many have trod before, but by enjoying mindfulness, each step is a new journey, a new destination.