The early miles of the Lighthouse Trail — walking out across the open canyon floor through mesquite and cactus, into the colorful eroded badlands, with the exposure and heat to respect.
You're on the trail now, walking out across the floor of the canyon toward the Lighthouse, and let me set the scene for you as you go, because it's a walk through a strange and beautiful country. Early on, the path leads you through the low desert scrub of the floor — mesquite trees with their lacy leaves and wicked thorns, prickly pear and cholla cactus, clumps of tough grasses. Give the cactus a wide berth; the spines mean business.
Before long the land opens up around you into badlands — that's the geologist's word for it — a maze of bare, banded, eroded hills and gullies in every shade of red, orange, purple, and white, carved into weird soft shapes by the rare hard rains. Nothing much grows on them; they're too raw and dry. But they are gorgeous, especially in the low, warm light of morning or evening, when the colors just blaze. You're walking through the guts of the canyon here, the rock stripped bare and laid open.
And feel that sun. This is where the trail earns its reputation, because out here there is no shade at all, and the heat comes at you twice — down from the sky and back up off the pale ground. Sip your water steadily, don't wait till you're thirsty, and keep an eye on how you feel. It's flat and easy underfoot for now, which lulls people — but you're a good way from the car already. Steady does it.
Now here's who else is out here, so you can enjoy it easy instead of jumpy — because a little knowing goes a long way. The one to genuinely respect is the rattlesnake; western diamondbacks live in this canyon, and on a warm day they'll be out. Here's the whole secret to snakes, and it's simple: they don't want anything to do with you, and near every bite happens because somebody startled one or reached where they couldn't see. So watch where you put your feet, step ON logs and rocks rather than blind over them, don't stick your hands into shady crevices or under ledges, and if you do hear that dry buzz, just freeze, find where it's coming from, and calmly back away and go around. Give it a wide berth and it'll give you one. That's it. Up on the cliffs you might spot those aoudad sheep — just admire them from here, don't chase them for a photo. And a coyote or a skunk will simply clear out if you make a little noise. The canyon isn't out to get you. Treat the wildlife with respect and a wide path, keep your eyes open, and you'll have nothing but a good day and good stories. The Lighthouse is still ahead, and the country only gets stranger and finer. Keep walking.
Photo: Clinton Steeds from Los Angeles, USA · CC BY 2.0
