Happened on 13 June 2019; published on 4 October 2019
On 13 June 2019 I parked my car at the trailhead at the end of Decker School Road in northwestern Leo Carrillo State Park in the Santa Monica Mountains, California, and began a walk along Nicholas Flat Trail, which leads to Nicholas Pond and then down to the Pacific Ocean, had one a yen to walk that far. The thing I remember most vividly about that walk was this …
I parked my car at the trailhead and began walking along the trailhead. There was a gentle rise to my left, and a gentle descent into a dry streambed to my right. It looked to me as if the terrain had been burned over during the great Woolsey Fire that began in early November 2018, and burned about 100,000 acres of land in the Santa Monica Mountains …
I heard two men conversing from down the trail in the southerly direction I was heading; from the sound of their voices, they were heading toward me.
I was carrying my camcorder and dawdling along the trail as I took photos of the landscape and plants along the way.
Pretty soon I saw two young men, maybe in their late 20s or early 30s, coming toward me along the trail. They were strangers to me, walking side by side, and taking up the width of the narrow trail. One was a little taller, maybe nearly 6 feet tall, spare and lean. The other was maybe three inches shorter and a little more muscular; he was an athletic weight for his age.
The shorter man, who approached along the left edge of the trail, was carrying in his right hand a curved scimitar that looked about like this 25 inch stainless steel blade …
… except that, as I recall with puzzlement, part of the top edge of the scimitar was serrated.
I stepped to the left-hand side of the trail, which was higher and, I felt, more defensible. From that slightly higher elevation I faced the trail. In my left hand was my camcorder.
The man with the scimitar sized me up as he approached, swinging his two-foot steel blade lazily back and forth as he walked. Then his glance fell upon my camcorder, and his energy field contracted slightly.
He said to me: Is that a camera?
I said: Yes.
As the two men drew abreast of me, the hairs of my left leg, which was a foot beyond the left side of the trail, sensed a change in the breeze as the scimitar swung past my lower body. Then the men walked by.
As I waited, I heard them reach their car. Then two car doors slammed. As I looked up, their cars drove back up Decker School Road.
As I began walking farther along the trail, a vision came to me on the astral plane which seemed to me to be the daydream of the scimitar-carrying man. In the dream, the two men were walking together in the southerly direction I had been heading.
They came to terrain that was flatter and more open. A young man was there, standing all alone; it seemed to me he importuned them sexually. In the dream, the man with the scimitar gathered his strength and will to slay the stranger. Then suddenly, the vision vanished.
Aside from this encounter with the two men, it was a very pleasant outing. I was pleased to find hundreds of tiny California toads hopping through the wetlands around Nicholas Pond. This is indeed a rare sight in Southern California, most likely occasioned, I thought, by the greater than average rainfall last winter.
The pond, too, was more full of water than I had ever seen it before, in my many years of wandering the Santa Monica Mountains.
In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars
FOR MORE INFORMATION
Here are photos from the hike on the day described in the story … Link: “Nicholas Flat Trail,” photos by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 13 June 2019; published on 3 October 2019 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-env ..
Many of these photos are featured in this video … Link: “Nicholas Flat Trail and the Music of Chris Zabriskie,” compiled by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 13 June 2019; published on 3 October 2019 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-eno ..
Here is a spooky tale for you. There is a Summary after the video …
VIDEO BY ALICE
SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
Hello, Dear Ones, It’s Alice. I Am of the Stars.
Do I have a spooky story for you!
I just went down a long grade on a poorly paved hill with a lot of issues for a Honda to negotiate … a mile or so down … and at the bottom of the mountain was a rough campground. It was a dead end next to a stand of trees and a tiny, very shallow brook. There were no people there.
I got a spooky feeling immediately. I hardly wanted to get out of the car, even so much as to look at the brook. I did get out, but first I positioned my car so that it was heading back in the direction up the hill, next to the road … such as it was … that went up the hill.
As I got out of my car, lo and behold, there drove down to the turnaround that I was facing a man who looked like Clint Eastwood; without a mustache, without a hat, but definitely that piercing-eyed, Clint Eastwood, spare look.
Next to him in the car was a lady who was looking in the other direction, as if she were emotionally distant. She was about his age, maybe his wife or girlfriend, I guess. She was very pretty, and muscular in the way that people who live outdoors on ranches are.
So I thought, gosh, maybe these two are ranchers or farmers; something like that. But I had a presentiment; I thought: Maybe I had better skedaddle back up the hill right away. So the minute I saw them I got in the car. Just as they were stopping in the roundabout, I was heading back up the hill, such as it was … the ill-paved hill … as fast as I could, considering my Honda.
While I was going up the hill I was talking to them on the psychic plane.
The man said: I guess she knows what happened here last night.
I thought: What is that about … that big, black trash bag propped up against the post next to the roundabout? Are there bodies in the bag? What’s up? My emotions were running wild; I could not figure it out.
Then I said to the lady, on the psychic plane: Say, what does he mean by that?
She said: We tied ‘em up, and we conked ‘em out.
I said, on the astral plane: Where’d you take them?
She said: We took them to the manure heap in the back of our place.
As I was heading up the hill I heard a friend of the man pitch in and say: Did we lose anything there?
And the man at the bottom of the hill said: No, I don’t think that’s worth looking into.
I thought: Oh my gosh, what should I do? So in that county where that is, in my mind I called to the sheriff. I said: Say, you know what’s happening over there …
He said: Yeah, we got an idea what’s going on.
Then I said: I spect it’s those types of folks that hires a sheriff in this county?
He said: Yeah, it’s up to them.
Spooky! Then the man at the bottom of the hill said: Well you know, we ain’t got enough water for the cattle out here to last all the year round, so we got to do something to make ends meet.
I got on the main road, and was just riding along, hoping there were no tacks strewn round on that bad road that went down the mountain; hoping I was not going to get a flat before I got back to welcome civilization … that being the next small town along the way.
I heard the woman’s voice talking to the man. It went like this: I just don’t like that look in their eyes … that pleading look in their eyes.
The man said: Last night the fellow died like a man. He looked me straight in the eye and he said ‘Go ahead and do it!’
The other night I was listening to a gentleman on the psychic plane. He sounded a little like the Dalai Lama; like a person who offers sage, peaceful advice. He said: If anybody confesses to a horrible crime on the astral plane, just say to them ‘I understand’. Then they will leave you alone, and go off someplace.
I have been trying that ever since. I have to say, my success rate is pretty impressive. So I thought, with this couple with whom I was just talking it might be a good thing to use as well, because then the gentleman at the bottom of the hill said, on the astral plane: I wonder if we have to worry about rounding up this one …
I said: I understand …
And he said: No, I guess that’s no worth worrying about.