01/08/2025
The Great and Horrible Descanso Hike
Dottie Marron
I saw a post on Facebook for a hike in Descanso sponsored by the Senderismo Responsables hiking group. Using my mediocre Spanish, I read the hike description. I saw the word “facil”. Great, I thought, it’s an easy hike. I can do it. The morning of the hike was cool and overcast, perfect for hiking. There were 7 group leaders wearing orange shirts, and 15 hikers. The hikers stood in a circle while a guide described the hike, but with my weak Spanish I only picked up a few words. We completed some warm-up exercises and the hike began. There was a guide at the front of the group, a couple guides in the middle and a couple at the end of the group. We walked up a tree-lined trail that led up a steep hill. The trail flattened out to an area of rolling hills. To the west was the ocean. To the south was a towering mountain. Refreshments were served at the 2.5K mark. So far, it was a lovely hike. At the 5K point there was a fork in the road. The guides explained that anyone wanting to complete the 7.5K hike should take the fork. Anyone wanting to complete the 10K should continue straight. This is when I made a dreadful decision. If I had taken time to translate the Facebook post or even if I had listened more intently when the guides described the hike, I would have understood what was going to happen. I continued with the 10K group. A short distance later the road dead-ended in piles of concrete. The lead guide immediately turned left and started up the trail…no. not a trail, a goat track that went up a sheer mountain face in a series of short switchbacks. I found the detour daunting, but I was certain we would soon bypass the road debris and be back on the road. I was halfway up the goat track, gasping for breath, and muttering to myself about the meaning of the word “facil” before I realized this was not a detour. We were going to the top of the sheer-sided mountain. I looked down the trail hoping I could turn back, but the track was so narrow I wouldn’t be able to get past the people coming up. I had no choice. I continued up the mountain. I got to the top and sat/collapsed onto a rock outcropping. Far below I could see the ocean, the valley, and the gentle hills that led up to the imposing plateau-mountain where I currently sat. I guzzled water and tried not to think about the trip down. The group posed for photos. I tried to look confident. The hike continued along the top of the plateau. The guides were leading us along meandering cattle trails. Exhausted and worried though I was, I still noticed the beauty. The view was endless in every direction. There were a few cows grazing, but the area seemed untouched by man. Eventually, it was time to head down the mountain. I was at the end of the group following the last guide. I took comfort in the red cross emblazoned on the back of the guide’s daypack. The goat track was vertiginously steep. The guide loaned me his walking stick. I gratefully clutched it in my right hand. He stood in front of me and showed me exactly where to put my feet. I stepped where the guide told me to step, planting my stick in the ground with my right hand and grabbing branches or the guide’s hand with my left. On each step my feet skittered a little on the loose dirt. My progress was painfully slow as I made my terrified, whimpering way down the switchbacks. I fell. My feet slid out from under me and I landed hard on ass and elbow. The guide helped me up. After the second fall, I changed my approach. When we came to a steep, slippery section, I sat down and slid downhill. The guide was always there to make sure I didn’t tumble to my death. I finished the hike. The guide and the volunteers made my survival possible. I am grateful to the hike leaders for being well-organized and compassionate. I will hike with the Senderismo Responsables again. The group is great. Next time though, I will read the hike description carefully and make sure I don’t get in over my head.
