Horsetrough Spring (Black Star Canyon)

March 26 was a lovely day to take a long hike with my husband in search of Horsetrough Spring. The skies were blue, it was sunny, but not hot. It was a perfect spring day. My husband pointed out Horsetrough Spring on the map months ago when he spotted it on his Life360 app while I was hiking in Black Star Canyon. Pinpointing its location, I knew that we were headed for some heavy duty bushwhacking, which is not only physically challenging, but mentally as well – which is why we made a long day of it.

The canyon was practically empty on this Friday afternoon. We packed in a wonderful lunch and snacks and enjoyed them at the village on the way up (and the way back). Before moving off trail in search of the spring, we explored the Hidden Ranch area – the location of a terrible battle/massacre between American trappers and Tongva Indians who had stolen horses from Spanish landowners in 1831, and also the location where Henry Hungerford shot and killed James Gregg in a dispute over a pasturage bill in 1899. I always stop at the village when I’m in Black Star Canyon. This day was the first time I had hiked down into and explored Hidden Ranch.

The Village:Hidden Ranch Now:Hidden Ranch in 1966 (Courtesy of Santa Ana Public Library):

Not too far from Hidden Ranch, we stepped off the trail to our right at a dry creek bed. We remained with the creek bed for a while but eventually made our way across the meadow to the first of a series of rundown barbed wired fences. Following these series of fences, which all headed toward a line of sycamore trees in the distance, we came up on a trough with water being fed to it by a pipe. Well, that definitely confirmed that we were headed in the right direction. And so we headed off toward the line of sycamores where we encountered more barbed wire. Eventually the meadow disappeared and the vegetation had growth so thick that we separated. I headed up a slope where I could look down into a lush green area that we were certain the spring originated. My husband made his way through that terribly thick vegetation until he was finally beneath the green lush covered area. Though we had separated and I was standing on a slope up above him, he was still close enough that we could still speak to each other. He searched for the spring’s origin for some time. Looking at the lay of the land, I’m pretty convinced he found the location but couldn’t see it because the vegetation was so thick.

We paid only small prices for this wonderful day. My husband had to get a Tetanus shot due to a nasty cut from the barbed wire, and he also had a mild reaction to poison oak (he’s had much worse reactions in the past). As for myself, I got 3 tics! Three. I hate tics. I would much rather come up on a rattler than a tic. You can see rattlers, they make noises. Tics, not so much so. They are silent and sneaky. I found one behind my ear, one crawling on my scalp, and another attached to my scalp a whole day later!

The spring is somewhere in that clump of trees about mid picture (we believe):13.5 miles, 3,621ft of elevation gain.

Breakfast at Black Star

Hiked up Black Star Canyon Road last Thursday (2/4) with breakfast in my pack. Despite the crowds at the bottom canyon (and the awful graffiti, which is sparse but there, not to mention the barbed-wire electrified fences), Black Star Canyon is wonderful, which is why I chose it for breakfast. Once you begin the climb up, the crowds and graffiti and barbed-wire electrified fences fall behind and the canyon opens up to this awesome playground that most people don't venture.

I left early enough to avoid the crowds at the base of the canyon. There were just a couple of others on the trail during the first two miles. And after that it would be several hours before I saw another person. My intent was to possibly have breakfast on the boulders above the falls and then afterward spend some time at the “Indian” site. The weather was wonderfully chilly which made the climb up that giant switchback road very enjoyable. Once I got above the clouds, it warmed up some – but not enough to take off any layers (except for the gloves and beanie). I’d say that the temperature was perfect. Also, the clouds were absolutely magical, softly, silently swirling about in the sky.

After 4.5 miles I took a sharp turn off the trail and headed down a single track straight into the canyon. There’s a lot of overgrowth, and a couple of places I needed to duck to avoid a branch. In the end, the trail dumps out at the dry creek bed where massive boulders are strewn about above the falls. Being that the creek was dry, I ventured further than I had before, through a small cave made from the boulders and down to a nice long flat rock, perfect for breakfast. When I finally landed on that rock, I felt so miniscule compared to all that surrounded me that it made me nervous. In fact, the rocky canyon ledge that hovered above nearly took my breath away. It was frightening almost, sitting there beneath this huge cliff that could squash me in an instant. I settled myself down with some breathing and prayer and then in awe took in the massiveness of this place. After some while, I hiked back out and up to the Indian village to have breakfast.

The Indian site of course was the perfect spot for a meal. . It is no wonder why the Tongva-Gabrieliño people chose this spot to do the same. It’s perched out over the canyon with awesome faraway views. There’s shade and grass and boulders scattered all about. It is said that the Tongva-Gabrieliño people came here during the summer because of the cool weather. They grinded acorns in this spot which was their main source of food up here. I sat just a few feet from some of the grinding holes to partake my breakfast. Across the canyon I could see Baker’s Cross. The spot was ideal.

Brought enough so to have choices: Dubliner cheese, peanut butter Larabar, couple of beef sticks, bag of cashews, bag of dried fruits and nuts. Ate about half before packing it up and heading back down the mountain. In all, I hiked a little over 11 miles with 2,842’ of gain.

New Territory

This past Saturday (January 30) I covered some new territory on a point-to-point hike in the same mountains that I always hike, the Santa Ana Mountains (home to Old Saddleback or Saddleback Mountain, my happy place). As is the nature of most point-to-points (unless you take a bus or some other public transportation) you don’t do it alone, which meant that I got to enjoy some company on this long one-way trip. Under darkness, I met running/hiking friend Kelly and her friend Lilly down Black Star Canyon Road. That was a little eerie being that it was pitch-black dark with no illumination from city lights. From there, Kelly drove us to our starting location, off of the 91 Freeway where we parked at the Green River Golf Course. According to Google Maps, that put us in Yorba Linda. It also appears that the golf course is located within in Chino Hills State Park, as are much of the foothills around the area.

We took off just as the sun was rising and found our way to the foothills by way of a wildlife corridor that runs beneath the 91. It was dang cold, probably not freezing, but just a few degrees above. My flimsy buff covered all but my eyes on most of the climb up Coal Canyon. The climb was immediate and in no time we were above the clouds with views of snow capped mountains in the distance. We wasted some time on this leg of the trip pulling the cameras/phones out at all the scenic spots. It really was breathtaking.

The road up Coal Canyon was jumping with new growth, ready to burst for spring. Several miles up the canyon we came upon a grove of young Christmas-looking trees that I later learned are Tecate cypresses. They gave off a strong fresh, amazingly magical aroma that matched perfectly with it’s bright green foliage. Back at home I did some research and learned that these grow only in three places. Three. We were in one of them, Carbon Canyon. I felt lucky once again out on the trails – lucky that we came upon this grove and that we noticed their specialness without having to read it online beforehand. (I will return for the sole purpose of checking in on these trees again, as much of them were destroyed in recent fires, and this was part of the glorious new-growth that inevitably occurs some years after a fire rolls through.)

After about 8 miles of climbing we summitted Sierra Peak, my first summit of Sierra Peak. It was amazingly crowded, with most of the 20+ hikers coming up together as a group. I couldn’t have been more thrilled to summit another peak in my mountains. The views were spectacular of The San Gabriels across the immense flatlands of San Bernadino, Riverside and Los Angeles Counties – somewhere down there was where I grew up, just a few short miles from the San Gabriels.

Though it had warmed enough to remove the beanie and gloves, it was still a bit chilly at Sierra Peak. The area was spread out enough also, making it easy enough to keep our distance from the others. Though our governor has lifted a statewide “shelter-in-place,” social distancing is still the protocol. (As a side note, though it is a highly debated topic in our area on whether or not masks help prevent the spreading of COVID, we did wear masks in the automobile since we were in closed quarters. Out hiking however, we went mask-less).

Before reaching the peak, we had turned off onto Leonard Road (some more new territory for me) and after summitting, we enjoyed a little downhill continuing off on Leonard Road. We had some nice and easy rolling hills for a bit, coming up to Skyline Trail a couple miles later. And just a little bit after Skyline, Black Star Canyon Road – I was in familiar territory! We stopped for some snacks at a photo-op here. And then we began the 8 mile trek back our cars. It was pretty much all downhill for those 8 miles – good thing because I was pretty beat by then.

What a trip!

Approx. 19.25 miles (our watches varied), w/  3,370 ft of gain.

Ccccold on a Tuesday

I started this past week strong by getting in a hike early on, Tuesday 1/26, in between storms. I chose Black Star Canyon, just after sunrise. And it was ccccold (that’s my literary attempt at conveying the fact that my teeth chattered). I was prepared with almost enough warmth. My only problem was that I couldn’t warm my chin and mouth while trekking through the shaded and wet canyon floor, even though I had cinched the hood of my over shirt so that only my eyes poked through. How cold was it? I don’t know exactly how cold – the rain puddles were frozen over with a thin layer of ice at the base of the canyon, so I’m guessing that it was of course freezing at one point, but probably about 40 F when I arrived. Two and a half miles in the climb begins, and so I was able to warm up enough to take off the beanie and hood. The climb is constant after that. It’s constant until you reach the outcropping on the right, the site of the historic Indian village. When I say warmed up going up that mountain, I don’t mean that I was warm – I mean that I was warmer, or rather, less ccccold. And so, the gloves remained, and I don’t think that I took off another layer the entire lovely trip. (For the record, I had four layers on up top: sports bra, tech shirt, cold weather long sleeved sports shirt, and wind/rain breaker with hood plus & beanie and gloves).

Being that Tuesday was a work day, I didn’t have all the time in the world, so I made this hike relatively quick, just up about 5 miles to the Indian Village. The fairytale spot (no, not really fairytale,  more like nature’s church)  was empty of course being a Tuesday, so I sat down at my seat on that giant rock across from Baker’s Cross for quite some time before heading back. In all, I put in about 11 miles with 1,600’ of elevation gain. On a Tuesday!

Church Social Distancing Style

The world’s gone crazy. It has, hasn’t it? I mean hasn’t it? Confusion and chaos has run amuck. And it looks like my generation got caught asleep at the wheel (What generation is that? Well, I’m 55, so that generation). No matter what side you’re on in this global argument (yes, this is a global discussion, to put it mildly, not an American only discussion), it’s all occurred on our watch. Perhaps you don’t know what I’m speaking about. Many people know exactly what I’m talking about. But at the same time, I don’t think my own children know what I’m talking about. They don’t see it. (Boomer!) 

So, what does a trail wandering American girl do in times like this? We’re still technically in a lockdown here in California. Take out food only, yet all of the restaurants are open with outdoor dining. The beaches are crowded, as are the stores and malls. We’re mostly all home, but that doesn’t mean we know our neighbors and local grocery store workers more. We’re all masked, and we don’t talk to each other, because it’s too difficult to hear from behind the masks and plastic barriers. On a nice note, you can tell the people who are smiling beneath their masks. You can see it in their eyes. So, I keep trying to smile at people behind my mask, hoping too that it shows in my eyes. And so, I ask once again, what does a girl like me do in a time like this? There really is only one thing to do and that is what I always do, what I’ve always done. Wander. I strap on some shoes, put on my pack and set out for the trails. Nowadays though, I do my wanderings with the specific intent of seeking the face of God.  

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Black Star Canyon up to the historic “Indian” village site, Sunday, January 10, 2021, 12.4 miles, 1,657’ of elevation gain.

Take me to Church, Social Distancing Style