Redwood Apocalypse

Sky Choked Orange

I decided to depart on a longer than normal unicycle ride. I began with my usual ride along the Ocean in Santa Cruz on my 36’er. I noticed that the color of the sky was a bit on the orange side from the CZU Lightning Complex Fire that has been ravaging the Santa Cruz Mountains as of late. It didn’t seem at first to be especially smoky as I rode along West Cliff Dr.

I switched out my Kris Holm 36’er for my Nimbus Hatchet 27.5 when I arrived back to my home. I then proceeded to pedal my way toward the redwood forest. I couldn’t make the distinction at first, but soon after I began riding higher into the forest the smoke became much thicker. The sky had turned a ominous color of orangish-red. The feeling that overcame me could only be described as apocalyptic. As I climbed higher and higher, the tree coverage seemed to consume what little light remained.

I attempted to climb about 1,000 feet into the mountains, while attempting to avoid countless roots and rocks with very little light. It was an odd feeling to barely be able to see in front of me at 3 in the afternoon. I had been shown a trail by a new unicyclist friend I had met recently that I had originally planned to ride down. The trail was dubbed “Lock Em Up” because of the necessity to lock said brakes up while attempting to circumnavigate the trail back down.

By the time I reached it, the visibility had turned worse than poor. Even in normal daylight the trail is so steep that walking it requires serious caution and care. My shoes slipped and slid as I tried to walk down it the best I could. To attempt to ride in these conditions would have been a death sentence. I could hear the sound of crows nearby my who seemed to be mocking the fact that I somehow thought this was a good idea.

As I stopped and took in the scene around me, it felt like I was suddenly becoming the protagonist in some kind of sick horror film set in the forest. I can’t explain it even now, but it felt like I wasn’t alone. The sky had turned an even more sinister shade of orange. It was as if I was I was standing in a factory smokestack belching out smoke and muck at full tilt. I began to breathe more heavily and decided that it would be a better idea to leave the forest as quickly as possible. My mind began to play tricks on me. I could have sworn I heard rustling behind me and glowing eyes peeking out and watching in my peripheral vision.

Finally when I made it back out of the redwoods safely, the sky hanging over Santa Cruz was the unlike anything I had ever seen. It was only 5 pm at this point, but it might have well been nighttime. What light was left was shaded completely and utterly red. The rest of the evening was spent talking to family and friends about how we had never experienced anything like this in our beloved city.

I am glad that I made it out safe, and look forward to embarking on those trails again in perhaps. . . . Better conditions?