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By
Gary Karp
Saturday, the 23rd of October, started
off just like any normal Saturday in the San Bernardino Mountains, but the night
would bring something uniquely different. The day started off tame enough, with
several of us meeting at the Denny’s restaurant off Orange Show Road in San
Bernardino. A few hours later we met up with Rick and Jan (relatives of David
and Gale Elliot), who graciously offered to let us camp at their cabin. Our
campsite was set up behind their cabin near Baldwin Lake. Thanks Rick, Jan,
David, and Gale, that was a great group site!
After we ate lunch, we warmed up
with a quick trip over the Gold Mountain and Jacoby Canyon trails. It was a
pretty afternoon and the trails offered plenty of good views and wonderful
scenery. When we were done with these trails, we went back to camp and rested up
for the inevitable night run. At about 5:15, I got a call over the HAM from Dean
who was in Big Bear city. He agreed to meet us at the Sizzler restaurant. We
finished dinner around 7:00 p.m. - it was perfectly dark - and darn cold up
there. We hit the dirt at about 7:30 with eight or nine vehicles, and headed out
for the challenging and spooky part of the trail. While we were driving to the
trailhead, I took the group to the campsite of the "Headless Miner",
who, as the story is told, was brutally murdered by a band of vicious claim
jumpers. Some say he can be seen to this very day - the camp even had the fire
ring still there! I also told the group about an altar where, around Halloween,
human sacrifices were performed. We didn’t visit this spot because we saw
lights in the vicinity and didn’t want to be part of history. Farther down the
trail, we told the group the story of an abandoned car that we would be passing.
The tale told of a group of teenagers who borrowed the family convertible for a
night drive. They become lost and then stuck on this trail. Unfortunately, they
all died of hypothermia before rescuers could find them. Of course this had
happened on this very night nearly 50 years ago. When we neared the vicinity of
the old car, strange things started to happen. There was a glowing hand near the
bumper of the stricken car.
Farther down the trail, a disembodied voice came
from the bushes asking you to come over there because you looked "very
familiar". I don’t think anyone took him up on the invitation. We had a
full moon for this night run and the temperature on that side of the mountain
was warmer than in Big Bear City. Everyone had fun with the trail - someone said
they thought that it was harder than John Bull. We all made the loop and
returned back to camp unscathed by 12:30 am. What a night we had! On Sunday we
ran the John Bull trail and played around until the late afternoon when we
called it a weekend. It was a fun-filled weekend. What I want to know is, from
where did that hand come?
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