Goat Canyon Trestle — 100 Miles From Home Base
I set out before dawn from DeAnza Springs Resort, the desert still hushed under a pale lavender sky. What was suggested as a ten-mile loop quickly revealed itself to be far more ambitious... We followed the abandoned railway deeper into Carrizo Gorge, ultimately covering over eighteen miles of occasional rain, wind, & sun-baked trail, crumbling ties, and treacherous footing over hundreds of feet off of the ground. Each step was an intimate negotiation with the earth beneath me: loose gravel slipping under boots, sharp stones demanding attention, and heat rising like a living thing. The trail tested the body, but it also demanded focus of the mind, forcing questions about endurance, patience, and the quiet ways we measure ourselves.
The railway wove through tunnels carved decades ago, long mouths of stone and shadow that swallowed light and echoed every footfall. Moving through them was disorienting, cool air brushing my skin, distant drips echoing like secrets, and a slow dawning realization that this space was both ancient and meticulously human-made. Each tunnel carried the memory of labor, of the engineers and workers who blasted rock and threaded steel through the canyon walls, building a lifeline across impossible terrain. The darkened corridors became mirrors, reflecting doubts and determination alike, and I found myself listening as much to the hollowed sounds as to the thoughts rising inside me.
Emerging into the open canyon, the Goat Canyon Trestle rose before us like a defiant arc of redwood and resolve. Towering and curved, it spanned the gorge in a sweeping 14-degree bend that seemed almost impossible to touch, yet so solid it held the history of daring problem-solving: after Tunnel 15 collapsed in the early 1930s, engineers had chosen timber and curve over stone and straight lines, letting ingenuity override disaster. Crossing near it, the wind carried the whisper of the past, the clang of rails, the shouts of workers, the rhythm of trains long gone, and I felt a pulse of harmony, recognizing that courage and creativity, in work and in life, often requires choosing new paths when old ones fail.
Beyond the trestle, the trail became a gallery of relics: abandoned railcars sprawled like forgotten sentinels, some Montreal commuter coaches, others double-deck “gallery” cars from Chicago, all scarred by time, storms, and graffiti. Paint peeled like sunbaked skin, windows gaped with emptiness, and the interiors bore sand, wind, and silence. Running a hand along their flaking number plates, I felt the weight of their journeys transported across continents and decades, left here by failed plans, derailments, and storms. Walking past them, I realized history is messy and layered, not a tidy narrative, and I too was unpacking layers of myself I’d ignored: resilience, curiosity, and the ability to see beauty in decay.
By the time we turned back, the canyon glowed in molten gold as the sun peaked around the clouds, after fresh rainfall. My legs ached and my boots were worn, but the hike had gifted more than fatigue: it gave perspective, patience, and a sense of discovery that went beyond abilities.
Goat Canyon Trestle — 100 Miles From HomeBase
Visibility: Clear, panoramic desert views
Trail Traffic: Moderate (hikers and photographers)
Access Notes: Trailhead accessible via old rail service roads; carry water
Distance: ~18 miles round-trip
Elevation Gain: ~1,500 ft
Difficulty: Moderate/Strenuous
Duration: ~6-7 hours
- Historic Goat Canyon Trestle — largest wooden trestle in the U.S.
- Derelict train cars — remnants of early Southern California rail transport
- Desert panorama — perfect sunrise/sunset photo opportunity
- Hidden tunnels along the old rail line
- The trestle was built in the early 1930s as part of the San Diego & Arizona Eastern Railway.
- Several train cars derailed here during desert storms; some remain visible today.
- Trail passes through tunnels carved into the canyon walls — headlamp recommended.
- Wildlife sightings include desert foxes and occasional bighorn sheep near the ridge.
