Star Trek fan Barbara and I boldly went back to Vazquez Rocks to hike the Apwinga Foot Trail, a section of the park we haven't gone before. Pardon the battered Star Trek quotes. The ancient and otherworldly feel of Vasquez Rocks, filming location for four original Star Trek TV episodes in the 1960s and two Star Trek movies, begged at least one reference. Photographs fail to capture the enormity of the sandstone rock formations around the trail. Rapid erosion of the San Gabriel Mountains 25 million years ago and activity by the San Andreas Fault formed the tilted hogback hills with their narrow crests and steep slopes, and the gigantic standalone rocks riddled with mysterious holes and cavelike dugouts. Sunshine and mild temps made for perfect hiking conditions—do not hike here in the heat, there is no shade anywhere. We started from the parking lot inside the park entrance at Escondido Road and walked to the Apwinga Foot Trail trailhead. From there, "Apwinga Foot Trail" signposts guided us south down the rocky dirt trail for the counterclockwise hike up the mountain to our turnaround point then turned north to hike down the trail for the second half of the loop. Throughout, the trail rose, fell, rose high, fell low, rose again, flattened out, rose up log steps and then continued in a slow rise until we reached the end. Steep but not ridiculous, and aside from a brief flat spot filled with chaparral, a lone tree or two, and dried yucca on the last leg of the hike, a staggering view of monstrous rocks surrounded us. Magnificent. Extraordinary. Outerspacey. Hollywood agrees—Vasquez Rocks has been a film location since the 1930s. In addition to Star Trek and Star Trek IV, the park appeared in films from The Lone Ranger Rides Again to Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey to Blazing Saddles, and in multiple TV series including the Power Rangers, MacGyver, and the Big Bang Theory. See the park in Radiohead, Michael Jackson, Tom Petty, and BTS videos. However, Vasquez Rocks is much better experienced in person, so beam yourself up to Santa Clarita and hike this park! 

   

   

   

   

   

Barbara and I only number the hikes we do for the first time and because today marked our 300th different hike, today we chose something that combined our love for residential urban hiking, mountain nature trails, and LA history. The charming residential neighborhood of Glenoaks, born 100 years ago in what used to be Scholl Canyon in the Verdugos north of Glendale, was developed during the 1920s, the "most transformative era" in Los Angeles history. Between 1920 and 1930, LA population doubled in size from 576K to 1.2M due to the growth of the oil, manufacturing, and agricultural industries, the growth of Hollywood, and, of course, the attraction of our weather. With growth and abundance came the car culture and suburban sprawl, and with DTLA only 6 miles south, Glendale became a desirable commuter town. In 1920, a syndicate of LA men bought and subdivided Scholl Canyon into 1/2 and 1 acre lots, renamed Scholl "Glenoaks Canyon" and presented the Glenoaks Park development, "a hill bordered gem," at a barbecue in 1923. Our hike today encircled the "gem" beginning at street level from Glenoaks Park on Glenoaks Blvd. A left on Sleepy Hollow Drive took us up into the residential section where we passed the "castle" that served as our landmark.  Sleepy Hollow led to a trail south to the Valle Vista Motorway trail—and the most dazzling sights of the morning: a clear view across the city of Eagle Rock to DTLA, 6 miles south; and a glimpse of the Griffith Observatory sitting on top of the Santa Monicas in Griffith Park to the west. The motorway trail twisted around the lip of Glenoaks Canyon with a view down into the small community and the "castle." The Valle Vista trail ended at Sleepy Hollow Place, then a short sidewalk hop took us to the next trail, a pretty NW path with oaks and sycamores, a few friendly neighborhood dogs walking their owners, and cool views of the towers on Flint Peak and the San Gabriels beyond. Trail #2 ended at Glenoaks Blvd for the return to our starting point. Always admiring houses we wouldn't mind owning, we took time to stop for a photo of the Crowell-Saylor house, a French Revival built in 1928 and listed on the Glendale Historic Registry. Back at the car, we headed out for a mocha stop to plan our next hike. #301!!!

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

Barbara and I wanted a dose of holiday spirit for our Christmas Eve morning hike and headed out to Candy Cane Lane, an 8 block neighborhood in Woodland Hills. Granted, Candy Cane Lane is at its best at night, lit up with thousands of lights outlining homes, lawns, trees, and decorations, but we still had fun with our sidewalk closeup of holiday joy. The whole idea began in the late 1940s. The community of Woodland Hills finally got a name in 1945, Pierce College opened in 1947, and in 1948 June Ashen became the first resident on Luabo Street in a neighborhood N of Ventura Blvd. surrounded by walnut groves. In 1950 June pulled together a coffee klatch with her only neighbors—Helen Couzens—resident #2, and Mooie Harrington—resident #3, to talk about how they could "spruce up the neighborhood for the holidays." They decided to decorate their mailboxes like candy canes, and as the neighborhood filled up they convinced each new neighbor to do the same. A local plumber donated tin stove pipes to paint white and stripe with red tape; husbands went to work with skill saws and electric cords; and every year the decorations became more elaborate. In 1953 they decided to rename Lubao "Candy Cane Lane." (The city didn't agree but the tradition stuck.)  Each NS street got its own holiday name and theme. Planning starts after Halloween, decorations go up after Thanksgiving. Barbara and I hiked the streets in order from east to west: Jumilla Avenue/"Avenue of the Bells"; Oakdale Avenue/"Candelabra Lane"; Luabo Avenue/"Candy Cane Lane"; and Penfield Avenue/"Carolers Way." Most of the homes have lights lining roofs, windows, fences, strung through trees; some around the cutouts, blow ups, and characters. Several homes adopt the theme of their street, and a few Scrooges do nothing. Barbara and I parked at Corbin and Martha just north of the 101, walked west to Jumilla then headed north from there. The photos tell the story—imagine everything surrounded by lights Santa can see from above!