Trail Talk – February 2021

There is a time when the tumult and chaos of life in a 24/7 news cycle breaks the spirit of the bravest consumer. Overwhelmed by the cantankerous rantings of so many talking heads, the appeal of a timeout spent in the musty cold fog of our mid-winter world becomes undeniable. The knowledge that we are blessed with so many opportunities to escape our daily rat race is not lost on us.

For those who bravely read Albert Camus’s mind-numbing existentialist manifesto, The Plague, this past year has been a “fact is stranger than fiction” experience of deja vu. Days without end of pandemic and drought, coupled with the horrendous punctuation of devastating fires and endless political upheaval, have left our psyches in need of time out of doors, away from reminders of our tenuous hold on sane thinking.

These foggy days are not the warm, dry outings of a recent summer. Bundled against the chill, we bravely step out to see what transpires, in a world beginning to shake off the effects of our longest nights. Recent hikes in our surrounding woodlands revealed the wonders of another trip around the sun; one that gives us hope that this year is indeed fresh and new.

Shortly before Christmas, water refilled the old Jacksonville Reservoir and began trickling down the de-commissioned spillway where a new suspension bridge allows hikers a safe crossing above the slippery rocks. The most stunning occurrence was not the seasonal return of water, but the immediate re-appearance of a lone mallard drake (since joined by a hen). How this far-traveling duck knew it was time to re-stake his claim on this pond is a mystery.

Another day, another hike—this time up the multiple steps of Knobcone Pine Trail, where a stop at the viewpoint bench showed distant vistas of a valley filled with the moist fog banks that follow our intermittent winter rains. Dark ridges rose above the lily-white clouds like so many breaching whales. The distant mountains sported a coat of white, a reserve of hope that this summer will be less harsh than last, that streams might flow again, and water tables be replenished.

And early one morning, on the popular loop in Forest Park that starts at Parking Area P3, climbs along waterfalls up Canyon Falls Trail, out around the ridge on Twin Peaks and Owl Hoot Trails, returning on Boulder Trail, the music of the mountains played loudly. Rounding the turn onto Boulder Trail, a sound so foreign to our ears but a month ago came streaming through the dank, musty madrone forest. It was the sound of water rushing down Jackson Creek a quarter-mile below. No people’s voices, no cars on the road, just the sound of rushing water, which played loudly for the last half-mile of a trek in the winter woods.

Enjoy this time of peace and renewal. Re-stake your claim to a favorite place in our surrounding woodlands. Happy New Year.

Featured image: New suspension bridge at the old Jacksonville Reservoir in Forest Park.