Trail Talk – Dec 2024/Jan 2025

ONCE UPON A TIME, in a land not so far away, snow fell from the December sky. As it piled higher and higher, the woodland critters became anxious that their winter food stores would become difficult to find. But as had happened many times before, no sooner had the snow piled high, than a warm, heavy rain blew into their canyon home. In the blink of an eye, as the quickly melting snow became rivulets, then streams, which soon became a roaring torrent of water, the critters knew to head to higher ground.

The canyon floor they called home was abandoned to this most perilous of Nature’s tempests. Scurrying along the mountain trails, seeking shelter, they were relieved to find that the generations of travelers ahead of them had wisely placed their routes of travel above the flood. As the paths rose and fell along the hillsides, standing water was rerouted from underfoot by natural barriers, keeping their feet dry and trails intact. Often little more than a serendipitous log placed across the path, or a jutting ledge of rock, these “water bars” protected the trails. And for that, the woodland critters were most thankful.

Soon, the skies cleared, and the forests dried; the wet pathways becoming more stable. But alas, trouble brewed on the horizon. Well-meaning two-legged (and two-wheeled) folk decided that these water bars were an impediment to their easy travel. Logs were lifted and rock ledges removed as these newcomers to the forests failed to understand what the longtime residents were so willing to share with them. Another year, another tempest, and those beloved trails of innumerable generations began failing. There’s a lesson here: water bars on trails are important and should be respected. Please don’t remove them.

A wise saying tells us that, “Deer do not cross a road. A road crosses their home.” It’s important to remember that we share our wild areas with the inhabitants that were here long before us. As winter is soon upon us, it’s critical that we remember to minimize our impact on the homes of these neighbors. To misquote Teddy Roosevelt, “Walk softly and leave that big stick alone.” For those seeking refuge from the hustle of the season, the wild places are our chance for solitude, for reflection. For those seeking motivation to be out and about, travel a new trail. Find a new place to stop and contemplate what is around you and what is right and wonderful in this world. If you haven’t engaged in the Forest Park Bench Challenge yet, this is an excellent time to venture forth.

The lower section of Rattlesnake Gulch Trail is now two-way: widened and with improved grades. Climbing all the way to the top of the ridge brings one to a short loop past Ol’ Rocky Viewpoint and on up to the new placement, high on the brow of the knob, of Siskiyou View Bench. And yes, you can see California from there.