Murals, is today, which is, really, me stealing other people’s art, with a click of a button, sortof.

        The trailhead for Devils Canyon is 26.2 miles from civilization, in the Angeles National Forest. To be more exact, I reset my trip odometer while in the city of La Cañada, on the Angeles Crest Highway (2) while on the bridge over the 210 freeway.
        After driving the 26 miles there is an easily visible “Devils Canyon Trailhead” sign on the right side of the road. Parking is on the left, and remember, this is a Forest Adventure Pass parking area, display your placard.
        It was a sharp bright day up here at 5,500 feet, with my car reading a temp of 53 degrees. While back down in Pasadena, it was a sharp and almost hot February day in the high 70’s. I was glad, up here on the windy ridgeline, that I had brought my jacket.
        The hike begins at the very top of the canyon: the only way from here is down. I am personally more in favor of hikes that start at the bottom, reaching a beautiful view height, with an easy journey back down, but nothing is perfect.
        The information says that this is a 7 mile round trip hike, or 3 ½ miles one way, and that the elevation change is anywhere between 1800 feet and 1500 feet, depending on who is answering the question.
        I decided to accept the 1500-foot elevation change number, as it would make the hike easier.
        Directions could not be simpler: follow the canyon. The trail begins at the top of the canyon slowly switch-backing down the soft rolling mountain, between evergreen trees.
        What I found interesting from the expansive southerly view at the beginning of the trail, is the vegetation. The right side of the canyon is covered with forest -or to be more exact, a rich smattering of evergreen trees. The left slope is dry and pale brown, with just the low scrub on the hillside.

        Which is strange to me, because I was taught that the windward side of the mountain receives all the rain. [That is the side of the mountain that the wind and moisture-laden-clouds hit first. When the clouds encounter and rise with the mountain, the pressure drops, moisture clumps, and falls as rain.]
        Generally speaking, in Southern California, the wind comes from the ocean, moving from west to east. Which means that in the above photograph, the wind would move from right to left. Thus the vegetation should be on the left hand slope.
        Therefore, the vegetation is on the wrong slope.
        The mountain must be wrong.
        Can a mountain be wrong?
        But then again, I might be mistaken in my facts, but the science books seem to back me up, there must be something going on here that I don’t understand. Maybe even the wind goes in the opposite direction.

        After some time switch-backing, the trail falls deeper into the canyon and finally stumbles upon the stream. At this point the trail swishes back and forth, crossing and recrossing the stream, there is some gentle rock and stream hopping, with the occasional fallen tree to clamber over.

        After following the stream for a while -with overhead trees to keep the hot summer sun away, and the little stream cooling the area- the canyon opens out, and converges with two other streams.
        Note that the stream, and canyon you just hiked down, is the middle of these three converging streams. Don’t, like me, almost take the wrong stream on your way back.
        There is a small plateau, with a grassy area, a crude fire pit and some logs to sit upon. I assume this is the campground, which is the turn around point for the 7-mile hike. It took me about an hour to hike down, which is about right for just over 3 miles downhill. (It took an hour and a half to hike the 3 1/2 miles back out.)
        I decided that rather than sit on a log in the shade, to sit on a stone surrounded by tumbling water for my lunch. On my way to the stream, I noticed, and had to avoid, a bunch of the -three leaves bad- Poison Oak among the rocks.

        It was beautifully -water gurglingly- quiet on my luncheon rock.
        The sun warmed my shoulders, while the water-cooled my ankles.
        Mountains rose up on all sides, green or brown, depending on which –wrong- shoulder I looked over.
        On the three hour round trip, I saw not one other human being, with only the occasional squirrel to keep me company, although I must admit, it was a Thursday in February, not the busiest of hiking days.
        And as I sat there, eating my sandwich and drinking my water, there was a moment of beautiful realization that I live in one of the largest metropolises in the world, but peace and quiet can be found only 45 minutes away.

Just because.

John, patiently waiting on the couch during Kasey’s garage sale, Los Angeles, California.

Jerome, at his accustomed spot, behind the counter at Brand Bookshop, Glendale, California.

John Eric, participating in a meeing, San Francisco, California.

Normal and our new 24 Hours of Lemons car, Mountain View, California.

Hallie reads to me about the ABC’s, in the downtown library, Los Angeles, California.

Noosha plays -and wins!- at miniature golf, Sherman Oaks, California.

Varuj and Scott work Hollywood Blvd on a Friday Afternoon, Hollywood, California.