The last time I checked in on the blog, we were cooling our heels in Morro Bay. Since then we’ve spent a wonderful week at San Miguel Island and then did an overnight passage to Catalina Island in advance of yet another gale. It was really too bad. We didn’t want to leave San Miguel Island. We’ve been lucky there twice with extended beautiful weather and we had the island to ourselves for several days this time around after all our friends left the anchorage. We got in some lovely snorkeling and also spent a night at anchor on the west side of the island so we could visit with even more seals. I wish we’d been able to stay a few more days.

Approaching the back side of Catalina Island in the early morning.

We arrived here last Sunday morning after a peaceful night passage and due to my work schedule, today was our first day to have the entire day to do some hiking. This island is lousy with hiking opportunities. And thus it came to pass. We took the dinghy to the beach in our anchorage at Catalina Harbor and decided to hike to the top of the hill for the view.

The last time we were here, Kevin and Cressie Baerg were also here on their boat S/V Blue. Back then we took the main trail, which is actually a road, from Two Harbors up, up, up the hill and into the desert. Mexico has nothing on Catalina Island when it comes to scrublands. What I remember about that hike is that the road went pretty much straight up into the heat for infinity miles. No one can keep up with Kevin as he flits from one rise of the road to the next like a hummingbird goes from flower to flower. It seemed effortless for him. It was…not…effortless for me and although that was 5 years ago, my memory of how punishing the road was is still strong. I did not want to do that again. It did not sound like the kind of fun I was after.

Michael observes that Galapagos is where we left her. She is the furthest to the left in the photo.

It seemed to me the best choice, since our destination was pretty much right above the anchorage, was to take what I call the ‘goat trail’ up the side of the small but mighty mountain. This way, I would have switchbacks to follow and could enjoy looking at rocks in the dried mud on the way up. I will do a lot to observe rocks in their natural habitat.

I am never more wrong than when I am trying to keep a good thought.

We view the peak from the aft deck. It beckons the way a demon whispers in your ear.

We started out strong. Although the path was steep, it was not difficult and I was feeling chuffed about choosing this route. I stepped in a lively fashion, avoiding ankle-breaking holes, knee-twisting loose gravel,  and sticker bushes. I figured the switchbacks would begin right about where I thought I could see a level place in the terrain further up the hill. Turning around I could see Galapagos below us in the blue of the sea. I thought I could hear her laughing but figured it was probably just my imagination. Maybe altitude sickness was beginning early. I hear it’s a problem for the aged and infirm.

Soon I was in a sort of trance with my steps beating out a regular cadence as we climbed up further. Michael was behind me and that fact encouraged me to keep moving smartly because if I let him lead he would surely just leave me behind. To get around me he would have to get off the trail and considering the slope and the precipitous drop on one side, that would probably not be a good idea. The wind was blowing maybe 10 knots; just enough to make me worry about being blown over. I put my head down and carried on.

I stopped to take a couple of photos and slow the heart rate down. Looking up, it seemed maybe we were about halfway there but I could not be sure. I noticed some wild dill growing and decided it would be nice to have a few leaves to put in a chicken salad later on. This excuse to tarry gave Michael the chance to get around me; a mixed blessing as now I would take my time but also he would quickly outpace me. Oh well. I sort of trusted him not to leave me to die alone on that hill so I told him to yell when he found the switchbacks. This was a good time to reapply my lip sunscreen. Maybe have a drink of water.  Alas, this hill would not climb itself. I recommenced.

After a good while, who knows how long, I came to an awareness of Michael standing on the hill above me and shouted, “Did you find the switchbacks? Are you at the top now?”. It was not to be. He just wanted to warn me that the goats had deserted us, taking their clear path with them,  and that this part of the ‘trail’ had been washed out, leaving a large and irregular gully of dirt and rock and, if humanly possible, an even steeper incline. He turned and continued on, leaving me to it.

I observed the terrain in front of me, craning my neck and holding onto my battered sombrero as I looked at Michael’s tiny figure above me. I turned and observed the terrain behind me, wee Galapagos winking in the sun on the water below. I was not going back down the way I came. No way. There was nothing for it but to continue on. Had I not promised myself that I would make better life choices, that I would consider my actions before taking them?  Had I not begun to realize that with the passage of time came the responsibility to be more careful with this body of mine so as to avoid injury? The answers are yes and yes, and yet, there I was on the side of this steep hell. But hey, I’m no quitter and besides, I brought water and a snack due to thinking ahead. I might roll down the hill to my death, blown over by the infernal wind,  but by God I would not starve out here or die of thirst.

Michael trudges in an upright position. I feel unstable just watching. Do you see the top of that rise ahead of him? Don’t be tempted to think that’s the top of the hill. It isn’t. It’s just this hill’s version of a mean prank.

Taking the measure, once more of the angle of heel of this slope, as well as what I strongly believed was loose gravel/rocks, I felt there was little choice about my next move.  I dropped to all fours and began a small meditation, if not prayer, as I scrambled. “Watch where you place your hand. Be aware of snakes. Watch where you place your foot. Check to see the rock is stable before putting your weight on it. Do not look up or down, just keep going. Watch out for those dratted sticker bushes because they hurt like hell. One hand for you, one hand for the hill. ” Simian-like, I crept up this part of the hill, Michael way above me somewhere in the distance, having trudged upright like other human beings. Time ceased to exist as I meditated my way toward the light.

These are dreadful and remind me of the kinds of stickers we used to have in the grass in Texas. Vile things.

I have no idea how far that part of the “trail” was. The change in elevation is about 1000 feet total. But I do know this: those step trackers that tell you how many steps you walked that day are complete and utter bullshit under these conditions. A person should get credit for at least double the steps if they have been using all four limbs in order to propel their body through time and space. Anyone who does not believe we share common ancestors with the great apes has never scaled a vertical rocky wash on all fours.

As I breached the top of the four-wheel-drive portion of the climb, I saw Michael standing on the road at the top. He had found the switchback. There was only one. It was almost at the very top and it had a large sticker bush smack in the middle of it. I feel like that was really unfair and that we deserved better at that point.

At the little picnic table on the landing we had our snacks and remembered being there before with Kevin and Cressie. That had been a grand day in spite of the grueling uphill climb on the road. This would be the road we would take back to the boat. As it turned out, my memory of that road was 100% correct. It was very steep, and very long. For us that meant downhill almost the whole way.

Almost back to the dinghy. Nice and flat. My knees tried to recover from the long downhill walk.

For the rock lovers, Catalina Island is home to this beautiful Blue Schist. It’s really, truly that lovely shade of blue. Magnificent.

We will be here a while longer as some good snorkeling weather is coming up. We’ll be taking advantage of that while we allow the sea to support our weary legs and heal the toll gravity has taken on them.

S/V Galapagos, standing by on channel 16