A [Fun] Trail Confession

Several years ago I was at a party when a mountain biker friend quietly  disclosed to me what he then thought, was a well-kept bikers secret. He explained how due to a land-slide and subsequent trail closure quite a number of years back on one of the popular trails in Nisene Marks State Park, that he and his biker buddies were able to ride what was otherwise an illegal trail.

The reason they could descend this trail, get around the massive trail wash-out and continue out to Aptos Creek Road was because someone had rigged a series of handlines that allowed the bikers to safely climb up and around the slide area while hauling their bikes.

As he giddily shared his story, emphasizing his excitement at the bikers having a length of trail all to themselves, I listened patiently while donning my best Mona Lisa smile. Knowing that I know the park intimately and love the trails he finally inquired, “Have you been on this trail and seen the ropes? You have to check it out. We are stoked at whoever put those ropes up!”

What he didn’t expect was my deadpan declaration, “I put the ropes up.”

He stared for a startled moment before we both broke out in laughter.

I then shared my end of the story. Right after the slide happened several years back, I went up with a good running buddy [we’ll call him Joe] to inspect the damage. On our run up to the trail head Joe was declaring that there was no way we’d be able to get around the slide. He had tried already and ended up turning back and climbing all the way up and around to get off the trail. But I was determined we could find a way—partly because I just love puzzles of this sort :).

The trail wash out was steep and deep. No option of climbing down and around without a significant and dangerous detour. We discussed rappelling down into the now-carved-out ravine and then ascending back up the other side but that would require bringing climbing gear each time we ran this trail as well as a way too obvious rope placement.

So we poked around up trail for other options and found a steep, slippery yet carefully crawlable route that brought us up to a narrow ridge line then back down a steep and equally slippery wash to the lower side of the damaged trail. With trepidation, we were able to crawl through and decided that if we put in handlines we could climb it safely and quickly whenever we wanted. We swore each other to the secrecy of our new plan.

Early the next weekend we headed out to set the new route. All the while knowing that this 4-5 mile section of trail would remain shut down to the public and all ours until the park service came in to make the needed trail repair. It could be years before they sorted that out. Which proved correct—initial slide was in 2007 and the repair just happened in 2013. For seven years we had our own private redwood forest trail.

Or so we thought.

All those years I would run that trail knowing that I would be the only runner on it for the duration. But we figured out early on that the bikers were also using the new route. Not only because of freshly carved out tire tracks on the dirt but because each time either Joe or I got to the base of the first pitch, the knot at the end of the rope would be in a different location. I silently applauded their finding the not-so-obvious re-route. After a couple years some bikers even relocated the initial pitch of the climb making it easier for them to haul their bikes. “Very smart move,” I noted when I first discovered the change up.

Over time and with minimal use the trail became overgrown with the exception of the deviations and jumps the bikers were building and I always had to carry leather gloves with me to use the ropes. A couple times I ran into hikers on the lower part of the trail. I’d tell them I had done an out-and-back on the trail as it wasn’t possible to get through further up… The extra and covert effort involved in being on this trail suited me just fine.

We never saw each other—the other rope users and I. And as far as I know none of us, nor Joe, ever disclosed our secret to anyone it mattered to, because we knew that if the ropes were taken down or if the trail was repaired our small and exclusive party would be over.

Or would it?

Just this morning I trotted once again, down the Secret Trail, heading out early enough to miss anyone but a couple people while on the way to the trail head and really excited to be visiting my old friend. The way down was as tough as I remember and even with the new ingenious bridge in place and no rope remnants to be found, I had the place to myself. The poison oak was in full bloom, the salamanders were numerous, my legs felt untested on the steep descent and despite the upgrades to the trail since the bridges inception I was in trail running heaven. If Easter is a day of renewal, mine couldn’t have played out any better.

If you enjoyed this trail section due to the placed ropes, I’d love to hear from you!