Black Star Canyon Road

Posted on March 26, 2009 in Hikes and Trails Photos

After a disappointing weekend of events abandoned thanks to rain and high winds, I promised myself a midweek adventure. The problem facing me was that I wanted to take Drake. The two local trails we could walk together were closed thanks to the fires of two years ago. I scryed the online maps hoping to find a path that the usual books did not include. Baker Canyon looked a likely candidate – its road led onto the north slopes of Silverado Canyon. Satellite imagery revealed a few buildings but most of its sidings were covered by thick stands of chaparral. The one problem I surmised from the map was that the roads crossed one another in a mess that reminded me of tapeworms mating. I printed out a map of the annelid network, packed my things, grabbed Drake, and headed for the foothills.

A sign the size of Kansas at the entrance to Baker Canyon Road warned outsiders off: this was a PRIVATE ROAD. Intrusion was conspicuously forbidden but there was no explanation of what would happen if I did. Still vision, of shotguns kept me to the county’s asphalt commons. I drove a quarter of a mile past the entrance to a large, pocked rock next to an iron swing gate. This barrier only blocked cars. I knew from guides that I could walk it.

Drake and I only saw one cleanish pickup truck – twice – the entire five mile trip. We crossed a broad meadow then hung a right into [[Black Star Canyon]]. I plodded while Drake sniffed the grass at the side of the road. Bicyclists passed us — always coming towards us. They didn’t faze Drake except for once when a family had a dog running after them. He made a ninety degree turn as the shepherd mix passed. I called him back and we kept going.

Sycamores shaded the dirt avenue with greater frequency as we ascended. After 2 l/2 miles, Drake jumped at the sight of a tiny, rusting yellow earth mover. I stopped to photograph it, then moved up a little farther. A few paces past a spot where a school bus had gone off the road and overturned, I fed Drake an early dinner. We walked back to the truck onto whose passenger seat he collapsed. Except for rising to enjoy a second, smaller dinner, he slept in a ring, snoring to the amazement of the cats who might have walked back and forth over him without his waking.