If our hike was a feature-length movie, the audience would have started yelling, "Don't go that way!" when we considered the shortcut.
We're experienced enough to know the trail was closed for a reason, but impatience overruled common sense.
Our plan was simple enough - explore the abandoned Murphy Ranch in Pacific Palisades. It was reputedly a Nazi sympathizer hangout in the 1930s, before giving way to an artists' colony. What remains are graffiti-covered ruins and seemingly endless concrete stairways.
The most direct trail to visit involves a lot of pavement walking and traipsing down the stairs to reach the bottom of the canyon. But we wanted a little more mileage and scenery, so we opted to hike in from Will Rogers State Park.
We planned to approach from the south on the Rustic Canyon Trail, but found it cordoned off with yellow caution tape. Another hiker told us it was closed due to storm damage, but still passable.
We switched to the well-marked and well-traveled Backbone Trail. It climbs quickly and offers little shade, so we were thankful for the gray marine layer overhead.
We soon found the spur trail that drops into the canyon bottom. It was steep, rocky and severely eroded. At one point, my feet straddled a deep rut, picking each step carefully.
The sound of water told us we were close to the bottom and we emerged from the undergrowth to find Rustic Creek. We stopped for snacks before beginning our loop around the canyon.
It's a popular destination and we found ourselves among dozens of other hikers exploring the ruins of the ranch. Not much is left, but the water towers and large concrete structure still standing have become a canvas for taggers.
Having completed the loop, we faced a choice: Go back the way we came, which was longer and required climbing up the steep spur trail, or go with the shorter, flatter Rustic Canyon Trail that followed the creek.
We had already hiked about five miles. The sun had broken through the marine layer, warming things up considerably. Tired and ready to be done, we opted for the closed trail. It wasn't blocked from this side, so we figured it couldn't be that bad.
We figured wrong. The trail faded to a faint scratch weaving through the knee-high grass. It was perfect cover for the rattlesnake lurking alongside the trail. After April walked past it unknowingly, I somehow noticed it. I yelled and we both froze. It sat motionless, except for its flicking black tongue, sizing us up as we did the same.
The snake was between us, so we couldn't go forward or backward. Loud noises didn't convince it to move, so April tossed a small rock. It landed close enough to have the desired effect. Taking the hint, the snake retreated, showing its telltale rattles before slipping away into the grass.
We continued on and the faint trail
disappeared altogether, leaving us to walk in the creek for long stretches. We found what we thought was a detour created by previous hikers looking for a way out of the creek. We followed the impromptu trail, pulling ourselves forward on bushes and scrambling with our hands to continue the ascent. We emerged in a small clearing high on the side of the canyon, but the trail ended there.
Seeing no way forward, we slid back down the way we had come. Standing in the creek, we considered our options. Our downloaded map showed Will Rogers Park was about a half mile away. We sucked it up and plodded forward, picking our steps carefully on the slippery rocks underfoot.
Finally, we saw the trail again. We followed it back to the parking lot, thankful to be done and humbled enough to think twice about choosing so-called shortcuts again.
Eric Harnish lives in Castaic and generally heeds instructions printed on signs.

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Reach the Ranch
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