Comanche Trail

I have been all over the place lately, from the northern coast of California to the southern coast of Washington. It seems super random but it's not. Here's how my brain works: I'm heading out of town for a Girls' Weekend (or really anywhere, I mean, one time I turned the act of dropping my daughter off at the airport into a four-day trip) and I don't need to be at the airport until the afternoon, so I do a little bit of research to find someplace to stop and explore on my way. This leads to a huge list of trails that I quickly narrow down to about five. Then I start planning a whole trip in my head that centers around all of these amazing trails that I want to go see (yes, that trip is coming). I put the phone down, take a breath, and get back to the task at hand - one trail, something short and easy, and it has to be on the way to the airport (or in the general direction). That's how I found Comanche Trail in Chico, CA.

Now look...I have no idea where I was with respect to the actual town of Chico. I just trusted that my friend Google would get me to where I needed to be, and she did, mostly. Not exactly knowing where I was is probably the reason I didn't really know what to expect on the trail. I honestly thought I was going on one of the many paths in Bidwell Park, so I was expecting mostly dirt and with a few paved areas. Nope. I was not in Bidwell Park and the only dirt I encountered was the deep puddle of mud that greeted me as I tried to exit my trusty Jetta, Sapphire. I am so glad I pack my bag of shoes (yes, it's a thing, a girl's gotta have the right shoes) in the back seat and not in the trunk, so I was able to grab my hiking boots, lace them up, confidently step right into that puddle of mud and out onto the paved road that led through the gate, toward two paved parking areas, and out onto the perfectly paved trail. Yes, I am laughing at myself as I type. But that's where Google told me to park. Believe me, it is NOT the first time she has led me astray.

After a previous adventure where I hiked for over an hour looking for Trinidad Head Lighthouse, which was not accessible on the day I was there, I now stop and read the signs along my hike. At the entrance to this trail, there was an outhouse on the right and a sign telling me when this trail had been established on the left (in 1984), and a few steps onto the actual trail, there were not one, not two, but THREE signs warning visitors that rattlesnakes can be found on the trail, especially in the spring. Never have I been more grateful for a wide, paved trail in my life.

Now, the calendar may still say that it's winter, but Mother Nature is starting to paint the earth in her spring colors. There were bunches of purple and white flowers all throughout the ground cover, groups of daffodils with the first eager blooms standing proudly, and the trees above were covered in white blooms that fluttered to the ground in front of me. It was beautiful.

In addition to the springtime colors and possibility of, this whole trail was a surprise. To the left of the loop and across the creek, was a huge, open field, to the right there was a road and additional parking areas, and there were buildings on the road into the park and more buildings at the far end of the loop. Even with all of these signs of city life, I felt like I was walking in a forest, with the canopy of the trees above and birds flitting from branch to branch, and the sound of the shallow creek cascading over the rocky bottom. A serene little getaway just blocks from the highway. I kept wondering why there weren't a bunch of people enjoying their lunches on the picnic tables. Maybe it's the snakes...

Anyway, I meandered along the river stopping at each opening that gave access to the river, walked across the two bridges to look up and down stream, stepped out onto a wooden landing that jutted out over the creek, admired the benches that had been honed out of giant tree trunks, and stopped to marvel at a small grove of bamboo. And I got to experience all of this before reaching the top of the loop.

As the loop turned to the right and headed back toward my starting point, I noticed some cute little paw prints on the pavement. I had passed a couple with their fur baby earlier so he must have decided to take a swim. The thought of being carefree enough to jump and splash in the shallow creek brought a smile to my face. The footprints continued along the river as I followed the path away from the water. The canopy on this side of the loop wasn't as dense, so I was able to really pay attention to the leafless, deciduous trees providing a home for the winter moss while the colors of spring were starting to peek through the verdant ground. It’s as if I was walking through both winter and spring at the same time. What a lovely glimpse of the space between seasons, of the fluidity that can exist within transition. Another beautiful lesson from Mother Nature.