At one point during my stay in California, I had hiked almost all of the trails in the Santa Monica Mountains. So I figured it was time to hike to the top. The highest point is 3,111 ft., which is not very high compared to summits like Mt. Whitney, but it was an important milestone for me and I believe for my friend who was such a good sport letting me drag her miles away to hike two to three times every week for four months. There were two different trails to choose from. Each led to the same spot, but one was long and the other short. We had class that night so we decided on the short trail. Of course, we all know what the combination of short and elevation leads to: steepness. This fact was not overlooked, but it was not nerve-inducing either. I was too excited to worry so I quickly packed my bag and left for the journey.
The drive took us up the coast along the PCH and then deep into a Malibu Canyon. We
weaved in and out of towns with populations of 12 people while yelling at the GPS “where are you taking us”. I mean, my whole family is larger than those towns! My Mom’s immediate family is the exact population size of those towns. That’s crazy to me! So when we arrived at the parking lot, guess what it consisted of? A large pile of dirt that our car had to climb up in order to park. There was a bathroom though. It had four walls and a roof, so that was nice, but upon entering you realize the toilet is just a hole in the ground that you have to squat over. I know what you’re thinking: ‘Wow that seems like some fancy facility. No need to flush or lift up the seat’. You’re right. It was a regular Price is Right prize.
There were only one or two other cars parked on the mound of dirt. It was a Monday, which in LA doesn’t mean much in regards to work, but in the mountains it meant that the trails were empty. So we started up the dirt and gravely path with little human resistance. The trail started off very steep and didn’t level off until three quarters of the way through. The climb was about a mile and a half to the top. It was an extremely exposed trail so we made sure to pause to take in the views of the rolling hills that stretched across the canyon. We were so far in that we had very little view of the Malibu coast, even above 3,000 ft. It was like we were in the hills of Austria.
Halfway up, I heard something rushing towards us from behind. Confused and ready to pull out some SpongeBob karate moves if necessary, I turned around to find two French bulldogs galloping over to say hello. They bounced around, running back and forth, just dripping with energy and completely loving it. Their two owners kept trying to corral them, but the dogs kept coming back to walk with us. I instantly fell in love with their spirits. Forget the movie execs and all of the famous people we met during our stay, these two dogs stole the show. They stayed with us until we got to a very narrow path that led to the peak. The trail turned from dirt to stone that we had to scramble up as it wrapped around a giant rock. The dogs tried to climb it with us, but it was so narrow that they were making us fall and we were making them fall so the owners finally took command and allowed us to climb up alone.
Once we made it up the path, my lack of balance and grace definitely being put on display,
we climbed to the top of the rock, sat down, and took in this accomplishment. I went from not knowing anything about this climate and its inhabitants, to piece by piece integrating myself into it with each new hike I took on. At that moment, it all came together. I had taken the time to learn about the natural area and in return gained the respect that was necessary to have when climbing to the top of this mountain range. I discovered that one cannot truly experience a place if they do not respect it. So sitting at that highest point after all the work I put in prior to climbing it really made me feel the beauty of it in all of its glory.
We snapped some pictures, breathed in the scene, and made our way back down. I went to California to gain work experience and a better understanding of Hollywood, but I came out of it with so much more. John Muir once said, “Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt” and I completely agree.
Memoirs From The Trails 