Nature Week, part 3

Part 3 of Nature Week brought me to a different section of the massive, massive Topanga State Park. I parked at the head of the Santa Ynez/Waterfall trail, at the edge of a very paranoid-looking gated community, under the watchful eye of the gate guard. Seriously. When they say they want to keep out all the hippie hikers, they mean it. The path brought me along a creek, and for about ten minutes I wondered if this was the only waterfall I would see (photo is actual size). Lest we forget, this is Los Angeles, where even 5'2" guys can be called Action Movie Heroes.
Read on...

In the meantime, though, the path was just lovely. Unlike the trail I'd followed up to Eagle Rock, this one was smaller and only moderately groomed, and wended its way through shady glens instead of sun-beaten ridges. Also? Poison oak everywhere. Everywhere. But with a little extra attention to footing, and regardless of whether or not I ever found the waterfall here in the middle of a gigantic drought, it was a positively lovely walk.

After only a couple of minutes (and far less time than it should have taken me to give up on the existence of a waterfall), I found a signpost pointing to the trail branch headed for the waterfall! It went past some truly prehistoric-looking foliage that didn't show up well in photos at all, and after another few minutes I finally hit the fall:

That's right, it's just a bunch of big rocks. I could hear water trickling somewhere, but nothing like whitewater or real falls. Ah well. Maybe if it ever rains here, it'll be completely awesome. Meantime, it was just nice.

The even-narrower path I'd taken to get to the falls seemed to continue on, so I scrambled up the side of the canyon following it, up into the sunlight and back into the desert. To be honest, I'm a little disappointed at myself for forgetting, while in the canyon forest, that I was still in the middle of a much, much larger desert. Luckily this lizard reminded me (actual size: approx. Godzilla).

A few minutes up the trail, it got a lot smaller, and I started to doubt the wisdom of following the Waterfall trail past the actual waterfall. This is a huge park, after all, and the bigger trail had turned away from the Santa Ynez trail up on the ridge and away from my current location. It was a beautiful afternoon, though, and I was in a pro-exploration mood, so I continued along, across the exposed sandstone and past the stinging yucca. I have to say, even though the path was getting fainter and my doubts were growing, the view was great.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and most of my adventures seem to eventually stumble across a Really Bad Idea. The path I'd been following dead-ended at a crevice in a rock face, and at first glance I thought I might be able to climb it. After all, I've done my fair share of climbing, and it looked like there were a bunch of good footholds.

I wasn't wrong. I was, however, mistaken about how accessible those footholds were, especially with the holly plant growing right at the starting point. It was going to be a long way back down, though, and I really didn't want to back-track if I had the option to explore new terrain, so despite knowing full well that it was a Really Bad Idea, I went for it. I pushed the holly to one side as best I could and started bouldering, and for a moment I really thought I might make it.

Then I realized that my next foothold was either in the holly plant, or at waist-level on the rock. Then I started to think about exactly how long it had been since I had seen anyone else out hiking. Then I started wondering if I'd be able to call 911 if things went horribly, horribly, gorily wrong.

The climb down was a lot easier than I expected, and in no time at all I was back on the canyon floor and more than a little thankful to be there, even with all the poison oak.

Of course, I was quickly faced with a new decision: head back to the car and take advantage of the customer bathroom at the coffee shop a mile down the road, or hike up to the main trail and the shockingly clean bathroom just over the top of the ridge. The smart choice would have been choice A, so obviously I went for choice B. After all, despite the rock climbing, I hadn't had all that much of a workout, and the sun wasn't that close to setting...

Onward!

Now, I want you to know that I have not photoshopped that picture. It is as it was. A half-mile up the trail I found myself it what looked like a cypress forest. Magical.

Remember how I said I got scared by frogs? Well this is when it happened. I didn't get scared by the giant lizard, I didn't get (too) scared when I was up on that rock face, but I did get scared by a bunch of frogs that I didn't even see. Yes, OK, maybe I'm a complete wimp, but if you were there you would have been a little freaked out, too.

See, I was walking along, minding my own business and enjoying all the trees, when I started to hear frogs croaking to each other along the creek. Delightful! Any time I got close to one, it would stop croaking, as frogs tend to do, and it became kind of a game, trying to see how close I could get before it saw me. They were only in a small section of creek, though, and I was soon past them. Only a few seconds later, though, they all stopped, all at exactly the same time. Now, I'm not a frog expert, but in my experience, frogs don't do that unless they have a really good reason for it. Mentally reviewing the wildlife and warnings about wildlife from earlier this week, I immediately concluded it was a Western Lion Wolf, and hustled on up the trail.

As the trail climbed and climbed and I tried as hard as I could to keep up, I started to notice that the sun was getting a little close to the top of the next ridge. There was plenty of time to get to the top, but then I'd have to walk back down again and go through that canyon to get to my car, and it wouldn't be getting any lighter any time soon. I seemed to be pretty close to the top, though, so no problem.

Wait, no, rounded a bend in the path, not at the top. Definitely around the next one. Orrrrr the next one. I was starting to annoy myself, so I made an executive decision: 10 more minutes, and then turn back. Those 10 minutes took a shockingly long time (still going up steeply enough to necessitate the occasional set of stairs in the trail), and when the moment of truth came, I still wasn't quite at the top. Always a woman of my word, I refused to turn back, and only a couple of minutes later, my obstinance was rewarded.

Do those shadows look a little long to you? They looked long to me. After the shortest possible stay at the trail hub, I high-tailed it downward, pausing only to take a picture of what I assume to be the Pygmie Western Jackalope.

When I reached the canyon floor again, I was pleased to discover that it wasn't nearly as dark as I had thought it would be, and the frogs were even behaving themselves. The only trouble I had with wildlife was the shrieking of an irate squirrel. I swear I didn't start that fight!

In the end, everything worked out just fine, although after almost 8 miles of hiking and climbing, I'll fully admit my feet were a little sore. I leave you now with the soothing sounds of a babbling creek and babbling frogs. Enjoy!