Every once in a while, I take a little trip into the closest thing to nature available in my neck of the woods - some hiking trails in the foothills above the valley. It's pretty easy compared to RealTM hiking, of which I have minimal experience, but it makes for some exercise, enjoyable scenery, and a slight pretense of plant life. The native fauna fortunately keeps to itself, and is not worth seeing - bland-looking lizards, insects, spiders, crows, the occasional hare, alleged coyotes, etc. The wind can be rude sometimes, suddenly blasting with chillsome fury and then going completely silent. I'd like to share some of the photos I've taken from trips I've made into these foothills over the past year or so.
The path starts out pretty grim, as an uneven, meandering, rock-strewn trail just above a half-finished gated community with some pompous name intended to stroke the egos of anyone dumb enough to pay a premium for it. Interesting side note: I once saw a big Mercedes trying to leave the finished portion of the gated community, but the gate wouldn't open for them! I did a little Nelson "HA HA!" in my head at that.
On the far side of the trail area is a storm drain with a little paved road that's useful for ascending if you don't feel like scrabbling over ankle-twisting rocks the whole way. Since there's almost never water in it, there are no mosquitoes to worry about. Along the bottom and perpendicular to it, however, are power line towers whose operation you can sense as an audible humming. Note that these photos were taken at different times of year, so there may be discrepancies in the thickness and color of the foliage.
What does this remind me of?
Being an avid science fiction fan, I couldn't help thinking of this:
It gets slightly bushier and less scrubby the further up you get, and there starts to be a little bit of a view:
There's an intriguing fallen tree at a certain point - but then again, any tree is intriguing in this landscape:
There's a pleasant rest area along the way with some great views, although a bit windy:
There's also a nice little viewing platform with some benches:
Further up, you begin to actually see something resembling nature here and there:
Up a mysterious and at times creepy trail lined by gnarled, stunted trees, you eventually come to a little spring with an old rock pumping station that's at least 80 years old if not older. I wish I'd taken pictures of that creepy trail, because it really is surreal - instead, I began further on:
During my most recent sojourn (yesterday), I inadvisedly decided to climb one of the ridgelines in order to get to the top of a hill - which took a lot more effort than I'm accustomed to putting in:
It was rewarding enough for a non-climber / non-hiker in the bumper-bowling version of "because it's there," although the view wasn't spectacular and the wind was so violent that I placed myself squarely in the center of the crown and wouldn't go anywhere near the edge. In fact, the wind was so strong I had to cling to the camera with both hands, hence the intrusion of my fingers into the frames:
Getting back down was more of a problem. I can scramble up a slope, but getting back down in one piece requires some instincts that just aren't in my repertoire. Naturally, I ended up sliding back down on my ass. Luckily I was wearing jeans or it could have become unpleasant, but I still ended up mildly straining a shoulder muscle trying to stabilize myself on the ride down. Even so, it was actually kind of fun - you don't find a lot of opportunities in adult life to slide on your ass without major injury. Some of the best views of all were on the way back from the ridgeline:
FYI, the trails in these photos are in the North Etiwanda Preserve of San Bernardino County, CA.