Return to the Motorway

Posted on April 24, 2009 in Biomes Dogs Hikes and Trails

Wednesday, after five years of hesitation, I made up my mind to hike the Silverado Motorway. Five years ago, I had nearly died on the trail. But on Wednesday, I forgot about this. The slanting light that fell on the abandoned road that lashed and curled up the sides of a [[chaparral]]-clad canyon towards Bedford Peak promised that this would be a good day to climb. So I packed my backpack, assembled Drake’s dog kit, and loaded my camera equipment into the truck for the ride to the trailhead.

The journey on foot began at the Maple Springs parking lot, amid poison oak and sycamores. I let Drake off his leash. We crossed a concrete bridge that was flush with the lower banks of Silverado Creek, then found the trail which backtracked on the other side, following it as it turned up a side canyon and performed a hairpin turn beneath a sycamore.

Rocks, almost all smaller than my fist, filled the furrow of the trail. I trod on the hard edges while Drake pranced ahead of me. Sometimes on a difficult section, he held back and let me show the way. I took small steps and looked at the ground so I could see where the stones were and wouldn’t be tempted to run to meet the next bend of the switchback, disappointing myself with exhaustion.

Our destination was an outcrop called Coffin Rock. Tall, white-blazoned fronds known as Our Lord’s Candle, popped up along the way. Morning glories covered the rock slides. Yellow and red whiffs of fireweed mixed with the sage which had not yet begun to bloom.

I made a point of not stopping so I wouldn’t find myself heaving as my lungs kept taking on massive quantities of air after I had ceased the exertions which required them. Maybe an hour and a half passed before I paused to give Drake his dinner and to drink my [[Camelbak]] dry. The shade of the mountain’s own shoulders covered the hillside. I looked down the trail: there was no sign of our destination. Light caught the blade of a tall sword of [[yucca]] flowers, so I chose this as a goal. The sight of the next curve encouraged me when I reached the flower mass, so I went on, climbing a new segment, making the turn at its end and, at last, mounting the familiar, last slope that led to Coffin Rock, which gleamed bright caramel in the late afternoon sun.

Five years ago, I had nearly expired a few dozen yards up the hill from here. Today I enjoyed the cirrus clouds, the long views, and the surprise of yellow sunshine.