The Canyon

Looking back on it , I now realize that my parents should have bought a different house, in a different part of town, a nice sub-division maybe, on FLAT ground, far, far away from the relentless siren song that every neighborhood kid could always hear, and the parents' radar was seemingly deaf to. I'm talking about The Canyon!!!
The canyon was every childs' dream, and every parents' nightmare. A regular no-rules playground for the youth of America, the canyon held many secrets and dangers, yet was totally accessable, just a few steps away from any house on the culdesac.
To the parents, it represented financial security. Imagine what a natural park in your own backyard would do for your houses' resale value! They fought tooth and nail to keep that canyon undeveloped, and in the end, they won the battle, but was the war lost?
If our parents onlyknew what went on in that canyon, they might have reconsidered the battle...
From our backyard, you could see the road to Sam Snead golf course, and a few holes, also. This was the benign part of the canyon, just a pond full of poliwogs, frogs, and crayfish, which could be caught with ease. To the north was an area which was fast being developed into new tracts, and a bulldozer was not an unusual sight here...
The real action was to the south-east, following the culdesac around to where the houses overlooked the golfcourse parking lot and driving range. Kids used to dig up huge fossilised rocks and roll them down the hill, where they would pick up speed and jump off the dranage ramp just 20 feet above the parking lot. When these rocks clear the parking lot fences, and would land on the lot, thier twenty foot fall would cause every stone in the parking lot to jump a few feet on impact, followed by a large BOOM!!!More than a few times the golf course regulars would return to thier cars to find huge boulders jammed under thier wheels!
At the very end of the driving range was the creek, which ran end to end through the canyon. For some reason, this was the smelliest, most rank part of the creek, filled with golf balls from aggressive golfers and topped with a thin film of oil. Durring a heavy rain, you could actually don a bathing suit and travel down the entire creek (high tide) without a boat, just paddling at times in the 6-foot deep water, but we always stopped before we reached the driving range... I actually rode my bike to school through the canyon durring a heavy rain, and fording the deep creek where it crossed my path, it was the long way for sure,but I had my best friends with me, and we finally arrived at school 2 hours late, covered in mud...You only live once!
To the west of the driving range was a place that few kids ventured into, a place that was where the coyotes lived.
I ventured through that area just once, it was dark, had a low celing of overgrown branches, and was full of coyote dens. You got the feeling you were being watched as you walked, bent over, through the thick trees and bushes.
The whole area south of the driving range was a sea of green, but under the brush, hidden from view, there were vast and countless trails, just two feet high, and a one foot wide path cleared of any brush and leaves, zig-zagging through the bushes and trees. These were roads well travelled by the countless canyon coyotes which populated the area. No-mans' land.
About 100 yard from the end of the driving range were large growths of huge oak trees, all fit with the finest treehouses you could find.
The treehouses, just lumber and plywood, appeared unused. This is because Poison Ivy had infested the large oaks. Most smart kids would spend a single day there, never to return.
To the South was a wide access road running over the hills, for the electic company to access thier power towers. This road cut across the entire canyon north to south, and on occassion a huge truck would come through to clean the towers with a loud, high-pressure water jet. This was one of those frightening sights that any normal kid just couldn't look away from.
Farther in was Morris hill. This was a steep clearing on the south slope cut into the brush when Mike Morris drove his Dodge Power Wagon up the access road, and just bashed his way down the brush, therefore making a steep climb that proved to be the biggest challenge in the canyon!
Trucks and motorcycles would come from miles around to challenge Morris hill. The hard part was 3/4 way up where the rock was the steepest and slipperiest, and it took a healthy truck, with alot of power to conquer the hill. 4 wheel drive and a good run was required. Motorcycles needed at least 250ccs, but on occasion, a good rider with a 125cc bike could make it. Only the bravest truckers and motorcyclists rode back DOWN the hill!
Farther east was Brown cliffs, so named for the color of the rock, which only showed itself 1/2 way up.
This was a challenging climb for any kid, and once completed, we would sit for hours on the summit, admiring the view. Above this was the flats of Linda Vista, where you could walk through the ruins of long lost military housing, just blocks and blocks of debris, foundations, and the odd appliance. They finally cleaned this area up, and put in trailers...
At the base of Brown cliffs, was our parents' worst nightmare, the swing.
Some crazy kid had shimmeyed up a large oak to tie a large oak to tie an old, fraying rope about 30 feet up from the rocky floor, and as stupid kids, being egged on by the older kids, we would walk up the base of the cliff, holding the rope with one hand, and run as fast as we could towards the rocky floor, jump onto the rope, and swing with such velocity as to become vertical, therefore touching the branches of the tree on the other side, some 25 feet above the ground!
As fun and exciting as it was, many kids got hurt, and that's all I want to say about that.
Another quarter mile to the east was a huge tree that wasn't infested with poison ivy. This tree held a real working tree fort, complete with walking planks and faded Playboy magazines littering the floor.
Next was the "Fork, a mellow little hill with a split near the top that circled around on itself. This was the training ground of those intrepid hill climbers hoping to one day conquer Morris hill.
Farther south-east was Baby White cliffs, which was really just a white stone area at the top of the canyon.
If you venture up, you would find a vast maze of coyote trails, and you could slide down the entire face on one foot, following the trails, with thick green brush just inches over your head!
To the west slope was an old rusted blue 1954 Chevy Bel Air coupe, half hidden by a large bush. Years ago it was probably driven into the canyon and left for dead. The last time I saw it, it's front grill was still intact.
Many motorcyclists would find recreation in this canyon, and it was always a thrill to watch them ride by...The Elsinores, Huskys, Suzukis, with thier trademark exhaust smell, both sweet and oily. One day, two policemen rode in with thier greenYamaha 360 Enduros. They stopped to talk to us, and with a satisfied smirk, they described thier mission as one to rid the canyon of dirt bike riders. We knew that thier heavy Yamahas didn't stand a chance against a race-only CZ or Bultaco, which were both regular sights in the canyon...
Way out to the East end of the canyon was White cliffs, a huge white sandstone monument about 30 feet high, slippery, unclimbable, and difficult to reach on foot. This was the most famous feature of the canyom, and there was even a legend associated with it, something about a young mother who through her baby off of the cliffs, and now her spirit is forever searching the area for her babys' bones!
Above the cliffs, were the one place I spent the most time, the "Flats".
This was a large, undeveloped area where a kid could ride his bike for hours, with lots of natural featurs and gullys to make things interesting!
Many kids organized long race tracks using the natural terrain, where we would set up competitions to find the fastest riders and pertend we were Motocross stars. At times, we had to dodge the real motorcycles, but his just fuelled our fire!
Last time I checked, the flats were a new neighborhood, the golf course was still there, and the canyon had become a natural park!