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Stinging Nettle

By Bruce R.

For a weekend we went to a small cabin at an RV park near Felton, on the San Lorenzo river, in the Santa Cruz mountains. It was only three days but it was nice to get away. I'd like to say it was relaxing, but I couldn't really relax. So I just focused on all the beautiful redwoods. We went for a nice walk in the Henry Cowell state park. We came to the railroad trestle bridge that would be a short cut back to our cabin. But my wife wouldn't let us cross. My daughter and I climbed up to look at it. There were about five boys on it, tossing rocks and branches into the river a hundred feet below. The Roaring Camp steam train is the only train that uses the bridge. It moves slow and gives lots of warning that it is coming, so it's not too dangerous. Of course there is no railing, but the ties are close together, about three inches, so it is easy to walk across.

After we got back to the cabin, my daughter wanted to hike some more. My wife was tired. That was good, because I knew just where to take my daughter. I took the trail that lead us to the other side of the bridge. She was ecstatic that we would cross it. Before crossing I explained what we would do if a train did come. We would first see if we could get across in time. If not, then we would walk out onto one of the steel beams on the side of the track and hang on until the train passed. That would be quite scary, because there where huge gaps that one could fall through. The risk was actually low, but she's going to be a teen soon, and I wanted to show her how she could minimize risks by making plans for what to do if there are problems. We crossed with no problems. There were about 10 other people also going across the bridge; it was a common short cut across the river.

We then crossed back and hiked down to under the bridge and along the river. I knew that the stinging nettle plant grew along rivers and streams. I'll never forget that plant, because when I was hiking in Yosemite, a branch of it hit me across my face. It feels like fire. For 20 minutes I kept plunging my face into the ice cold stream. Well I thought I remembered what the plant looked like and had pointed it out to my daughter. I stepped down from a log and brushed a long plant away with my sleeve. Then I realized that I had instinctively not touched it with my hand. I turned around to tell her to wait while I move the branch away. Too late, she was stepping down and reaching for the plant to steady herself. I said "don't touch that!" just as her hand just barely touched it. She screamed in pain. "Quick put it in the water" I said.

We sat on the river bank for about 15 minutes. She didn't cry much, but she was mostly worried that the pain wouldn't stop. I assured her that it would, and that it wouldn't cause any permanent problems. Then she said, something was touching her hand. "Oh it's probably just a crayfish" I joked. She didn't take her hand out (she was wise to my jokes). I stood up and looked. There was a 5 inch crayfish with claws next to her fingers! "Uh, take your hand out of the water," I tried to say calmly. It took off when she moved. Man that was close! I've been bitten by a crayfish, those damn things hang on! At least she was spared that experience. Her hand was hurting less, so she laughed with me, at her close-call. That's one hike that she'll never forget.

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