Covid Hike

I am just now catching up with my life after my Covid hike back in April (2023). The Sunday before Good Friday, I decided to head out for a 13 mile, lackadaisical hike up Black Star Canyon. Unbeknownst to me, I had Covid – my first bout. It didn’t dawn on me that I was sick. The symptoms were so weird. I felt emotional, worn out and cold. Of course, I put in some extra effort on this lackadaisical hike because that’s who I am. I took a detour down to the creek just above the falls, and then after that, I found a couple more detours up on the plateau. It really was lovely out. The skies were optimistic! Of course they were, it was the season of Lent. I had a stations of the cross hike coming up, and after that, my favorite service of the year: Good Friday. Alas, I was off on this hike up Black Star. Really off. But as I mentioned, the skies were optimistic. Wildflowers covered the hillsides. Water flowed in every creek. So, at the end of the day when I felt like I could lay down and die, I chalked it up to being out of shape. I remember stopping by the grocery store on the way home and bundled up, shivered down the aisles. I still didn’t think I was sick. No cough, sore throat, not even the sniffles.

Monday morning, I dragged myself out of bed for a much anticipated phone meeting with the USFS about race permits and dates. I got through the meeting but afterwards wondered if I was indeed ill. Still no normal symptoms, just extreme fatigue. Nah, it was the hike. So, I went to work (but I didn’t take the bus as I had been). Then on the way home I stopped by The Irvine Spectrum, a wonderful, beautiful . . .  mall!! I’m sure you can imagine the reason for my exclamation points. The thought that I had Covid never even crossed my mind. (I still cringe .)  No one in my family was ill, and to my knowledge I had not even been exposed. I just kept blaming the hike and other issues in my life. It never crossed my mind until I stumbled through the front door Monday evening and went straight to bed, shoes, clothes and all. Several hours later, I took a Covid test. After setting up class cancellations for the week, I went back to bed aching and shivering. I remained there for a couple days.  

I’ll tell you! It’s been a long time since I’ve done absolutely nothing. When I wasn’t asleep, I was laying in bed still because I had no energy. Never lost my taste, never had many of the classic symptoms. Mainly, I was lethargic, achy, cold, and emotional. When I finally got well (along with my family because we all got it), I was one of the last to regain my energy. It took several weeks in fact after testing negative. During that time, it seems like all the things that I normally do in my life went out the window – hiking, piano, reading, writing, chores – all of it took too much energy. My guess is that the Covid hike didn’t help matters much. I think I got sicker than I would have, had I skipped the hike.

In all, I thankfully didn’t really get that ill, though it wiped me out a great deal. I’m fine now. And I’m finally caught up. The spring semester has just ended. I’m all prepped for the summer session just around the corner. Looking forward to some local hikes and travel in June! Hopefully, I’ll be able to post a race date as well for the 2023 Saddleback Marathon by then too (just waiting on confirmation).

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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.

Lonesome Road

June 17, I didn’t wake early as planned. Surprisingly, that didn’t stop me from heading out to Black Star Canyon. I looked at weather reports first, and seeing that the high in Silverado Canyon was 73 Fahrenheit, I was good to go. My feet hit dirt at 10:30 am.

Though the base of the canyon was full of hikers, once I turned off to the left, away from the creek, up toward The Main Divide, I travelled a lonesome road. What a lovely lonesome road it was. Sure, it was warm, but the occasional cool breezes rectified that. Black Star Canyon is still comfortable in June, which is why I chose it for the day’s hike. Soon, it will be too hot, and I haven’t been into that in a long time.

Once in a great while hiking up that lonely dirt road, I would come upon a mountain biker, and once I caught up with a man heading up Black Star Canyon Road for the first time. He was looking for a place to rest, and I told him that he wasn’t that far from the Indian Village site that he was hoping to come upon. We were just about to enter the Mariposa Reserve during our chat. Mariposa Reserve is my happy place. I call it that right now because just the mere thought of the plateau that makes up most of the reserve soothes my soul and brings down my heart rate.

My first stop in the reserve was to take a single track, about a half mile down to the creek. There’s a little bush whacking, and lots of incline, all to arrive at a lovely shady spot at the creek.  It was still flowing, though slowly, which means there was a trickle at the falls. I came out at the single track in fact, very close to the top of Black Star Falls, so close that I could hear the voices of hikers hanging out down there. It’s exhilarating of course to sit there in that shady crevice of giant boulders above the falls without a soul around. It’s a bit spooky in fact. You can understand my surprise then when I saw four young men hiking down stream toward me.

Headed down to creek just above Black Star Falls

Wow. I didn’t expect that. And they didn’t expect me. When I made eye contact with the lead guy, he hollered back to his 3 friends, “Oh man, I think we’re back at the road.” Nope, I told him, the road’s up there. They were all delighted to learn that they had reached their destination, the top of Black Star Falls. Soon after that, I scurried back up to the trail, but not before urging the guys to be careful! My next destination: Beek’s Place.

Beek’s Place was lonely and lovely as usual. Though it was a bit hazy out, I still had views of San Gorgonio and the San Gabriel Mountains, not to mention Orange County and a socked in view of the Pacific Ocean. The Beek family had a wonderful location for their 1930s mountain retreat. I hung out at their place on this particular day for about thirty minutes before heading on.  There is much to take in from this spot – faraway views and ruins to rummage about. When I finally did head out, I climbed just a little bit further for one last stop before the long down hill. My last stop: the doppler tower.

Just a short distance from Beek’s Place, I have never visited the doppler. The reason being that I am always behind on time. And on this day, it was business as usual. I was behind on time. But it’s nearly summertime now, and it doesn’t get dark until after 8:00 pm – and so I went for it and headed up to the doppler tower where I hung out for a good fifteen minutes or more. As I headed back, I could see a helicopter hovering about in the far distance, somewhere over the Mariposa Reserve.

For the next few miles down, the helicopter continued to hover over the reserve. Eventually,I made a stop at the Indian Village site and ran out to the edge to get a closer view of the helicopter. I could see the red and white design of OCFA (Orange County Fire Authority). A person walked along the outside right edge. The pilot had his door open, and I could see him looking out the door below to the forest floor – precisely, it seemed, where I had been earlier, where I had met that group of young men, just a small ways from the top of Black Star Falls.Then all of a sudden, the person on the edge stepped off and was lowered down to the ground where the trees and brush swooshed in the chopper’s prop wash.

As I continued my way down Black Star Canyon Road, I lost sight of the scene. And then I came out again where the helicopter had landed just off to the side of the road. The wind it’s propeller made was fierce, though far enough away from myself, I could see all the brown summer grass swirling and whipping about on the mountainside. The chopper eventually left, only to return again as I approached the final stretch on the canyon floor. (I have found nothing online about this rescue, except for a blurb on the OCFA Twitter page confirming a rescue of a female with a leg injury in Black Start Canyon).

In all, I put in 17 miles and of course was so much better for it, though fatigued was I. Still love Black Star Canyon. It’s never too lonely.

17 miles, 2,700’ elevation gain

Black Star Falls for 54

I don't think about age much, especially mine, which is why I was confused this past week (Sat., February 16) when I thought that I was turning 53 years old. But then I did the math. The truth: I have now made the revolution around the sun 54 times. In celebration, my husband and I took the one day in between rains (we had been experiencing near constant rain) to hike out to Black Star Falls. The only other time I had ever made that hike was also with my husband, along with some friends. That first trip 9 years ago. It was another era in my life. It was when I was running all the time; I was much stronger physically then. I recall the hike being strenuous and what I would rate as a moderately difficult hike. 

And it was again -- a strenuous, moderately difficult hike. There was a difference though. This time, the creek was crashing through the canyon. Crashing. It was so full, there was no staying dry. It took so much mental focus traversing between the boulders and rapidly moving creek that it became tiresome. Other times, we were scrambling up mud banks, or but sliding down unwalkable surfaces. You really can't beat that type of hiking. It takes both mental and physical strength. And for me, I had some mental and physical strength to pull from, but I was slow moving. Slow moving was okay though, because that canyon was so lush and beautiful, that I loved all the time I could get taking it its glamour. 

Another difference nine years later, is the powers that be erected a sign pointing the way to the falls. As such, there were crowds of hikers on the 16th (I'd say more than 50). But the terrain was difficult enough to thinly spread out the field. Often it seemed like we were the only hikers (waders!) out there.  On a sad note, graffiti had been spray painted on some of the rocks (grrrrr!). 

The falls though -- wow. WOW. Absolutely remarkable how much water tumbled down into the creek. It was loud and misty. And the natural terrain of haphazard boulders made it comfortably easy to lounge about with a couple other dozen people where if we wanted to converse to one another, needed to yell because the falls were that loud. 

Black Star Falls

I have driven past Black Star Canyon Road many times.  I have even parked on Black Star Canyon Road to carpool into Silverado Canyon.  I have heard of the haunted legends, but I have never ventured into Black Star Canyon. 

First a little about the legends:  William Wolfskill and the entire Indian village he massacred roam the canyon.  There's claims of Indians riding on horseback, rabbits that don't die and other "ghostly" happenings.  People say that the Klu Klux Klan meet in the canyon, and also that witches hold ceremonies there as well (What would happen if the witches stumbled upon the KKK, I wonder?)

I did not see any of these things (though I did have that sensation first entering the trail, where it seems like there's a shadow of someone out of the corner of my eyes -- this happens frequently with me and others as well, so perhaps you know what I mean.) And so I digress . . .

It was a group of five of us today (Me, my husband, Dave, and three locals, Jeff, Sam and Chay). Our destination, "The Falls." (Another side note: Today was the scheduled day for the second Great Silverado Footrace. After its cancellation, the race director, Chay, organized this hike).

We took the main road for a mile or so, then cut down to the stream, then hiked up, passing several smaller "falls" along the way. We climbed over giant boulders, played with newts, tramped through poisin oak (oh no!). The weather was perfect, the hike tricky. I fell while climbing a boulder once, but really lucked out landing on my feet (my only damage is a scrape and bruise on my arm from sliding down the rock face when I fell). And then finally after about two hours of hiking, we came upon the lovely falls. Breathtaking.

Abandoned school bus rolled off the road

The stream was literally full of these little guys.  Often we'd see a ball of newts beneath the water -- several of them entangled around each other) 


Ball of Newts


Which way to go???  Up over the boulder, or through that mass of poisin oak on the left or that mass of poisin oak on the right? : )




Not "The Falls," but one of many little ones along the way

More Falls

I think that I'm going to go sit on that ledge, but it's too slippery to get up on

Sam leads the way


Our destination -- notice how the water falls from the top, then flows through hole in the rock to spill out bottom left of photo

Father & Son


Looking for a way to climb up (too risky in the end)


Me, Dave, Sam, Jeff & Chay

Heading back