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A Strange Day on Mount Diablo

It was 1999, right in the beginning of June, and I found myself headed up Donner Canyon on the east flank of Mt Diablo, a prominent peak in the bay area located east of San Francisco. My plan included a tough ten-mile hike with 3000’ of elevation gain. First, I would climb through Donner Canyon to Prospectors Gap, climb up towards the north peak of Diablo, and then come down over the summit of Mt Olympia and work my way back to the car.
 
I had parked at the Regency Gate near the town of Clayton and walked west up the Donner Canyon Road. When the road made a turn to the right and started uphill, I followed a trail off to the left that led into the woods and crossed a small brook on a frail footbridge. The trail continued uphill, staying on the left bank of the stream for most of its length. Nearing the end of the lower canyon the trail re-crossed the brook to the north side and switchbacked up the slope to rejoin the Donner Canyon Road. In a few minutes, I stood at the junction above the lower headwall with the upper canyon, and Mt Diablo’s 3850’ summit, rising up before me.
 
From here, a road branched off to the left and climbed the south wall of the canyon on its way to Cardinet Oaks. Another road turned to the right and worked its way up and around until it gained the crest of Meridian Ridge. The ridge led towards Mt Diablo and ended at the high road that traversed the eastern flank of Diablo and connected Prospectors Gap in the south with Murchio Gap on the north.
 
Just a short distance up the road on the right, the Middle Trail veered off to the left and headed up through the high canyon to end at the road coming down from Prospectors Gap. I followed the trail as it climbed through patches of oak, Manzanita, and pine. High on the headwall the trail crossed through a small gully, travelled a short distance to the south, and switchbacked up another ridge before making the final climb to the road.
 
I enjoyed a snack and some water at the junction and then turned left towards Prospectors Gap. The road was through the oaks and I enjoyed the intermittent shade, as I knew the final climb to the gap was steep and entirely exposed to the noonday sun. I could hear the faint sounds of water dripping in the thick cover of the canyon.
 
It was at this point that I walked into one of the strangest experiences of my life; ladybugs were swarming here by the millions. As I walked on down the road, the air got thicker and thicker with the gentle flying creatures. Everywhere I looked, ahead and behind me on the road, towards the blue sky above, and as far as I could see into the oaks that fell away to the east, ladybugs flittered through the air in a chaotic dance of haphazard motion. I stopped to enjoy and savor the spectacle. As a kid, my parents always told me that a ladybug was a sign of good luck; here today was good luck by the truck full.
 
As I stood there, still and quiet on the trail, they began to alight on me until the strange little creatures completely covered my body. From head to toe they covered my socks and shoes, my bare legs, and my arms and face. I could not suppress a smile and a laugh, and a feeling of wonderment swelled through my being, as if the combined efforts of these little spotted fliers might carry me away to some magical den or portal usually closed to humankind. When I finally continued on my hike to the gap, I was wearing a new brown suit, a suit made from the delicate and ethereal fabric of ladybugs.

Laudizen King
May 2009
Los Angeles