So I did it.
I went hiking by myself.
Now in the three years I’ve lived in California, I’ve often thought about going hiking alone. I’ve done lots of other things that I never thought I would do alone: go to movies, out to eat, even dancing. But hiking was the final frontier. Years of Girl Scout training taught me that hiking by yourself is unwise. Anything could happen! Who would be there to help you? It is fundamentally against the all important rule of The Buddy!
But I decided to do it anyway. Why? It was a particularly cloudy and drippy day, which to me seems like prime hiking weather but to many California residents means that you should not leave your house under any circumstances. Plus I just decided to go spur of the moment, and it’s often difficult to drum up a buddy on short notice. This is something I find particularly irksome: that I know very few people whose schedules are open enough to accommodate my whims.
Anyway I decided to go for it. I reasoned that usually when I go hiking in the Oakland hills there are approximately 1.2 billion people on the trails with their babies, dogs, boyfriends, etc so there really wasn’t any danger of twisting my ankle, crawling off to the side of the trail and never being seen or heard from again.
However when I pulled up, there were only 2 other cars in the parking lot. ON A SATURDAY. This, I can assure you, is highly unusual. I decided to forge on nonetheless. I approached a paved trail, and saw a sign that said the Quarry Trail was closed because EBMUD (local utility company) was doing some sort of excavating. Consulting my trusty map (of course I wouldn’t venture off without a map!) I saw that the Quarry Trail seemed to be a long way off and its closure shouldn’t interfere with my plans.
So I set off. I was already feeling a little uneasy. Was the trail closure an omen? Why does it have to be so quiet up here? Why is my imagination so big?
Things went well for the first part, through a misty and drippy green forest section of the trail. Then the trees thinned out, and after a short bit of grass I came across a grove of burned stumps and eucalyptus, which did not appear too terrible at first but soon revealed its true identity as the Haunted Eucalyptus Grove. As I approached, I heard a sound in the bushes. Of course I stood still and looked to see if I could see an animal. I couldn’t. But the rustling continued undaunted (encouraged?) by my presence. Finding this unsettling, I continued also. Once past the grove, I was trudging uphill to some grassy meadows when a weird howl came from the grove. Was it the wind? Dead branches rubbing together? Some “Where the Wild Things Are” style beast?
Better not to contemplate it too much and just keep walking into the meadow. The sign on the gate told me to steer clear of cows in the meadow. There was also a sign about rattlesnakes but I reasoned that with no sun out the snakes were less inclined to be lounging about anyway.
So I started across the grassy field. Here you could actually see the clouds blowing past, and I had the feeling that if it had been clear I would have had a spectacular view of Something but today it was all just rather gray.
I was trying to calm my racing thoughts and wondering if having an accelerated heartbeat induced by fear counted as cardiovascular excercise when I heard a most disturbing rumbling sound which seemed rather near. Of course due to the fog I couldn’t see very far off. Was it a train? Sure, I reasoned. Maybe there were freight train tracks somewhere down below, even though I had never seen them here before…
Well then I rounded a bend in the trail and the rumbling grew louder and I came across a very large dump truck trundling past with a load of rocks, and I saw some orange fencing which seemed designed to deter hikers from taking that trail. I took this as a sign that I should turn back.
Which meant I had to walk back across the lonely grasslands, past the Haunted Eucalyptus Grove, and through the dark and drippy forest. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than forging on through unknown terrain: I was sure that where I had come from was scary. Maybe the unexplored trail up ahead was less frightening. But alas I didn’t have the heart to find out.
The grassy field passed uneventfully, save the continued rumbling of trucks. As I approached the eucalyptus grove, I decided to try to photograph it. This went well, but I didn’t particularly like the way the photo looked so I thought I would try again closer up. Unfortunately closer up the Beast Who Resides in the Grove was still rustling about, and rather closer to the trail this time, so I hurried past sans photo.
With the grove happily behind me, I re-entered the damp and dark forest. This looked a lot like forests back home so I felt comforted. It was quiet, and being in the trees made me feel less exposed than walking through the meadow. The sound of raindrops falling from tree branches was quite familiar.
Now that’s the kind of place Edward Cullen could jump out from at any moment. Swoon!
And on the way in I had seen a spectacular slug feasting on some dog poo. I have a special love of slugs, especially banana slugs. I wanted to take a picture of the slug, but thought the poo wasn’t aesthetically appropriate. When I came back upon the scene, this time there were three slugs (!) and one was far enough away to take a proper photograph.
Before long I was back in the parking lot, completely unscathed. The whole ordeal had taken less than 45 minutes.
This time there was a mail truck in the parking lot, which I found confusing. (Did the park receive mail? Was the mail carrier taking a break here?) I got back in my car, took a few deep breaths, and continued on my way, convinced that never, ever would I go hiking by myself again. The Girl Scouts had it right. The woods themselves might not be so dangerous, but one’s unchecked imagination is a frightful thing indeed.












