It’s been nearly four years since I’ve driven up Trabuco Canyon, parked in the Holy Jim lot and ventured up that trail at the base of Old Saddleback. I love Trabuco Canyon; Holy Jim takes up much space in my heart. It has given me great things – beauty, revelation, and even triumph when we were in sync, but other times Holy Jim has delivered some heartache and even disgust, not to mention near heat stroke and nausea and other unmentionable physical problems. Aside from all this, what I remember most are the times Holy Jim gifted awe to the point of tears.
Anyway, I inadvertently learned that Holy Jim had partially re-opened from it’s closure after the #HolyFire (August 2018). How could this be? How did I not know Holy Jim had reopened? The news certainly put a kick in my step! And so, this past Friday, December 17, I finally returned. I expected the canyon to have a few travelers but as it turned out the canyon was practically empty. I enjoyed taking my sweet time driving the bumpy puddled road. About 3 miles in I was so overcome by the beauty, I abruptly pulled over to walk about mossy boulders overlooking the creek.
Teared up a bit at the mouth of Trabuco Cyn, like
anticipating meeting up with a long lost friend: I sure missed this drive:
The only other person in the Holy Jim lot when I arrived was a man who I had seen earlier on the drive. I noticed that he occasionally stopped to pick up trash alongside the road. He was sitting on the tailgate of his truck in the lot playing the harmonica when I pulled up. By the time I finally exited my truck two rangers had driven up as well. I chatted briefly with them (inquiring about further trail openings). I was a little bummed to learn that Holy Jim from the Falls junction to the Main Divide would remain closed until August 2022. Now matter though because I was here now! I was grateful to hike Holy Jim even if just for a few miles.
Holy Jim Canyon was empty. When I say empty, I mean that I did not see a single other person as I made my way up the trail, nor did I see life at any of the cabins (except that final cabin that had the same red vehicle from years back parked up front). The lack of people made me reluctant about moving forward especially since I was headed toward a box canyon solo. Now normally, I’m not overly concerned about hiking or running alone, as long as I am well equipped and know the trails. But box canyons have always spooked me in general. (So, what was I thinking about doing this alone? I wasn’t thinking. I was too excited over the fact that Holy Jim was once again open.) But box canyons – yikes! I won’t even go into the horror the imagination can conjure up about being trapped in a box canyon. I decided that if I felt the same way at the turnoff, I would turn around and head back. It was that great to be back – it didn’t matter if I made it to my destination. It’s the journey that I get the most from, not necessarily the destination.
As I made my way along that quiet trail, I recognized much of Holy Jim from the past. For a few seconds I felt as if I walked through a ghost town – there were celebrations and defeats in this very same place (even before my time, for centuries!). There were the boulders I recognized, along with creek crossings and canopies. But much had changed as well. A good portion of the trail had been washed out. Standing in the midst of this washout, I felt disoriented not knowing just where I was. But then I noticed ties in the trees and quickly realized that the Forest Service had marked the way. Following the ties for a short while, I found myself back on recognizable terrain. Huge sections of trees were down and some particularly neatly placed boulders that previously framed the creek were now obliterated as if they had been kicked about the trail. Yes, things had changed. As they always do. But this was still Holy Jim, I could tell.
I felt comfortable upon reaching the turn off. The trail was pretty well visible and cleared and so I continued onward to the falls. Though it’s been almost four years since I’ve been on Holy Jim Trail, it’s been many more years since I’ve been to the falls. Holy Jim falls was an unnecessary detour while heading up to The Main Divide. But now. Now, 2021, I’m content hiking to the falls. It was lovely. I had it all to myself.
After spending some time at the falls, I headed back toward the trail and slipped on the wet rocks landing on my right hand. With my wrist a little achy, I felt that was ample warning. I told myself (out loud) Focus Lauren! You don’t want to break your arm . . . again. And then I chuckled. Not five minutes latter, while gripping onto a branch, my feet slipped beneath me and I slid down to the creek (but not into the creek). It was an awful fall affecting my entire left side (arm, hip, leg). I had held onto that branch for dear life during the fall which resulted in a twist to my body. Twists like that do bad things (my last big twist resulted in torn tendons in my foot). So, there I was on the floor of the canyon once again. With use of only my right arm I got myself up and slowly made my way over the boulders and across the creek. Then while still a little dazed, the two rangers suddenly appeared before me. Well, what a happy sight! They helped guide me over a particular rough spot which was quite difficult with use of one arm. And I got to talking again with these guys, and turns out they know the guy who signs the permits for our races. In fact, he’s their boss and had sent them out that day to Holy Jim. I was amused by the coincidence. I told them to be sure to tell him I said Hi and reminded myself check-in. (The USFS has been very friendly toward foot races but COVID has put a hold on everything, as least in the Cleveland National Forest). Anyway, My spirits were up after that meeting and I felt better, confident that I could make it back to my truck without incident.
The remainder of the hike was in fact without incident. Except for this: On the way back I came upon these lovely creatures – Lady bugs!
About 5 miles hiked. I forgot to start my “Smart” watch.
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