For my four years as a student at Palisades High, I’d look upon the inviting green sprawl of Temescal Gateway Park and wonder, not without some imaginative embellishment, what sorts of wild little treasures might be hidden in its crevices and canyons. Regretfully, it wasn’t until I was out of high school that I decided to see for myself. Two decades later, and with untold miles of mountain trails under my feet, I never really considered the creators and caretakers of these trails beyond the passing assumption of faceless state park folks, or an organic caravan of hikers carving their way past oak and chaparral.
Then, in October 2019, I knock on the door of Ron and Mary Ann Webster, having arrived early for my first meeting with the Santa Monica Mountains Task Force. Ron opens the door, I introduce myself, and he dutifully pops open a beer and hands it to me (his hospitality quite at odds with the self-designation “Rotten Ron”). Sitting with him for the twenty minutes or so before others arrived, I learn, casually and unexpectedly, that I live just a few blocks’ walk from the person responsible for many of the hikes enjoyed by myself and so many others in Los Angeles.
Here we celebrate the life and legacy of our own Ron Webster, who passed away January 7th, 2021 at the age of 86. As a premiere trail-builder and founder of the trail crew, his is a name virtually synonymous with the Task Force.
Since the lockdown, I sometimes think back to Ron’s words on solitude. “I enjoy being alone more than anyone you know,” he said, in describing solo journeys across the mountains, usually to flag (or mark out) a new trail. The potential dangers — mountain lions, rattlesnakes, ticks — never bothered him, just as any potential hardships wouldn’t dissuade any born artist. And certainly trail-building is an art, one in which patrons can fully engage with the canvas. “I love seeing people walk all over my best work,” he often remarked with a smirk.
Bill Vanderberg, our vice chair, trail crew leader, and friend of Ron’s for over twenty years, said, “He was a mentor who taught me the value of public lands comes from building trails that allow people to experience its beauty.” Indeed, Ron’s was a sensitive touch, crafting trails that complemented the natural splendor and didn’t suggest themselves too strongly. “Trails,” he noted, “should lie lightly on the land.”
Before rounding out a legacy that began with Topanga’s Musch Trail and included 31 miles of the Backbone Trail, Ron worked as a machinist and led hikes for the Sierra Club, usually up fire roads. As we all know, though, fire roads are less… immersive. After some thought, Ron wrote a letter to someone in state parks asking about building a proper trail. Star-wipe to an early retirement, and a $25,000 grant from the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy that allowed him to become a Los Angeles industry of one — a full-time trail architect.
Of course, it’s not an industry of one. Ron — who, among other accolades, was in 2017 granted a Lifetime Volunteer Achievement Award from the California Trails Conference Foundation — would go on to lead many hardworking volunteers over the years in the building and maintaining of local trails. Most assuredly, he still looks over our shoulders as the McLeods fly, the pickaxes clang, the brush falls and the sweat drips.
It would be a foolish chef that never indulged in the fruits of their own cooking, and Ron created hikes in more ways than one. With a network of trails blazed across the mountains, he continued leading excursions for the Sierra Club, including his own “Tiger Hike”, a tidy, 25+ mile jaunt from Will Rogers to Malibu Creek State Park. Much as when I made the six-block hike to his home for my first Task Force meeting, I’m told he had beer waiting at the end.
We honor him directly here, but we honor him also as caretakers and conservationists, and as sheer nature lovers.
Here’s to you, Ron.