It’s that time of year once again, the time of witches and pumpkins, of sweets and scares, of black and orange! Last year, if you’ll remember, I met some spiders at the Museum of Natural History and sampled the pumpkins at the appropriately named Calabasas Pumpkin Festival. This year, in the spirit of colors, I decided to take a spooky trip up the haunted Black Star Canyon in order to finish up the Orange County landmarks!
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Black Star Canyon has an ominous history! An entire Indian Village was massacred here (#217), and the canyon is rumored to have hosted subsequent mafia and KKK doings! It is also home to a community of squatters, including the famous Black Star Bill (no relation) who has made a reputation for himself as the local yokel who threatens hikers with a shotgun. And there are mountain lions. For this reason especially, I invited some more folks along for the hike. The morning of, all but my good friend, Felipe, became suddenly and mysteriously ill! That did not bode well for this haunted hike!
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The fog that had followed us all the way to the trailhead suddenly dissipated as we set foot on the paved part of the trail! The first mile was quiet with occasional bikers whizzing by, which was all very nice, until we saw the signs warning about the high dangers of mountain lions, rattlesnakes, and poison oak in the canyon, and the double layered fence along the side of the trail with barbed, razor and electrified wire! I couldn’t tell if they were trying to keep people out or something else in! Nerves were on end as we left park property and entered the so-called “Private Road” leading to the neighborhood of the infamous locals.
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Their homes were tucked way back in the trees and looked abandoned, possibly because it was a Sunday morning. The architecture ranged from chic (a lily pond and a gazebo) to strange (a broken up speedboat) to downright trashy (piles of trash). The only local who seemed to be out and about was a heavily tattooed fellow with a ponytail, driving a fancy, white SUV, but I didn’t dare ask which trash pile was his! Luckily, the trail climbed up and away from the ominous neighborhood and switched back and forth into the heights of the canyon, where the remains of the broken Indian village awaited!
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I won’t say how we found the village. The truth is, too many people had found it already; the sign marking the village had been stolen, leaving behind two little wire hangers! While I cursed our foul luck, I heard a commotion in the trees above! There was a flying squirrel taking pictures among the branches! I thought he might have taken the sign, but he assured me he was just on a quest of his own to document the many types of trees in California! He introduced himself as Terry, and together, we turned our attention to the lovely oaks that still filled the site and had not been vandalized.
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I was happy to see that the grinding stones had also escaped the ravages of visitors! These were the deep pockets where the village residents had once ground their acorns, and where Terry also had tried to grind acorns. Terry, Felipe, and I then sat down and had some snacks, listened to the wind, and turned back before dark. We had dodged the dangers of Black Star Canyon during the day, but we surely did not want to take our chances at night!
Have yourself a spooky little Samhain!
