Almost Trailside: A True Story (10 page)

I finished cleaning the kitchen, dressed, and put on my warmest jacket. By this time Tommy had the awning set up, a carpet down on the ground, two folding lounge chairs out, and a wonderful smelling little campfire going. I joined Tommy by the campfire with two fresh cups of hot coffee. It felt good to wrap my fingers around the hot ceramic cups in the cool damp forest.

Perfect green ferns grew everywhere surrounding our campsite. Bits and pieces of leaves, twigs, and bark were scattered around the forest floor. The scent of pine, redwood, and wild mint in the fresh quiet morning air was simply rejuvenating. I loved that earthy aromatic smell of nature.

Over head, two fluffy-tailed squirrels with full cheeks chattered and scampered along the tree branches. I looked for the boys to show them the squirrels but they were no where around. When I asked Tommy where they were, he said he “didn’t know”. I called for them but there wasn’t any answer. I started to panic. I called over and over again out into the majestic forest until finally here they came running through the trees from behind the travel trailer. I was frantic by this time. I scolded them for wandering so far off but the boys were all excited. They wanted to go on a hike. They found a hiking trail on the other side of the ranger station that they wanted to show us.

Tommy dampened the campfire and locked up the travel trailer. We followed the boys through the ferns to
the ranger station which was just a short distance away. It was late Sunday morning, March 29, 1981.

To the left of the ranger station, we discovered an outdoor amphitheatre. We didn’t see it driving in last night in the darkness. The amphitheatre was small with halved tree logs for bench seats, it fit right into the natural forest setting. Beyond the amphitheatre the hiking trail began.

The boys were having fun running back and forth ahead of us but we wanted to keep them closer. We picked up some small rocks along the way and threw them into the bushes when the boys weren’t looking. The noise in the bushes quickly stopped them in their tracks. Wide-eyed, they both ran back and settled beside us, thinking it was a bear or a mountain lion. Soon they were staying much closer.

The hiking trail was groomed well. Flanked by dense bushes and forest trees of all sizes on both sides, the uphill trail seemed wide enough for a car or a truck. We had no idea how far the hiking trail went or where it came out. We were just enjoying the experience of being out in the beautiful redwood forest. We had all day, so it didn’t really matter how far or how long the trail was as long as we could find our way back.

We were alone on the hiking trail until we heard someone running up from behind. An athletic looking woman with long light brown wavy hair was running up the trail. Her long strides eventually brought her passed us with her large German shepherd running close beside her. She smiled at us as she ran passed and we said “good morning” to her. Quickly she was out-of-sight. To me, she looked exactly like June Carter Cash, of course, it wasn’t. I especially recall her very pretty smile.

Before long, the hiking trail led to a fork in the road. To the left, the trail took a steep turn downhill. Beyond, through the trees, we could faintly see a small red car parked out on the main road. To the right, the hiking trail continued uphill. We decided to stay to the right. Little did we know that this simple decision of which way to go on the hiking trail could have had drastic life altering results for all of us.

Up ahead, the hiking trail flattened and opened up to what appeared to be an observation area with a small section of split rail fence for tying up horses. It looked like someone had recently been there. We warmed our hands over a dampened campfire with still burning embers and rested briefly.

We were still the only ones on the hiking trail other than the June Carter Cash running lady and her dog. Just us, and the purest sounds of nature.

Continuing on, the hiking trail began to slope downhill. It seemed like we were making a big circle heading back toward the camping area. The boys were still running back and forth and we were still throwing little rocks into the bushes on occasion to keep them closer to us. We were all enjoying the first hike of our first outing in our new travel trailer.

Soon, we came upon a man and a young woman sitting along the left side of the hiking trail on what looked like a raised bank. It seemed like an odd place for anyone to sit but at the time we had no reason or desire to evaluate why they were there. They were sitting very close together with a dark heavy blanket covering the bottom half of their bodies. It was cool in the forest so at the time it seemed logical that they were using the blanket for warmth.

The medium built clean shaven man wore a light colored jacket, baseball cap, eye glasses, and back pack. His right arm was around the back of the young woman, holding her against his right side. His left hand held what looked like a dark colored or metal thermos bottle set on his lap on top of the heavy blanket.

The young woman’s dark wavy chin-length hair appeared to be damp. Her hands and forearms were under the blanket. She looked cold, and pale, and seemed rather detached. She didn’t speak, smile, or make eye contact with us.
He
acted like they were a couple. He was the only one that spoke.

“Hello.” His manner was friendly. He smiled as we approached.

“Hello.” Tommy and I both responded in unison, slowing our walking pace to chat with them.

“It’s a beautiful morning but cool.” He continued the conversation, speaking slowly and clearly. He drew the young woman closer to him as if to warm her.

“Yes, but so pretty here in the forest.” I casually glanced at the young woman who remained silent. It
was
cool in the forest, cool enough that we kept our hands in our pockets to keep them warm.

“We’re camping along the San Lorenzo River, been here since Friday…just taking a morning walk.” He offered the information, seeming calm and in control. “Do you come here often?” The question seemed normal at the time, but he had another reason for asking it. He looked directly at me, smiling.

“Actually, this is our first time camping in the Park. I’m sure we’ll be back again.” I meant it. I loved the sights, sounds, and smells of nature’s beautiful redwood forest. I looked to Tommy to confirm.

“We will definitely be returning.” Tommy held out his hand to me as if to indicate that he wanted to keep moving. I took his hand.

“You have nice boys.” The man said suddenly, with a little smile, looking to the left down the trail at the boys running ahead of us. Then he looked back at me, and smiled, again.

“Thank you. They’re really enjoying themselves.” I smiled back at him and glanced at the young woman again, who now seemed to be staring across the trail. She still did not acknowledge us in any way. Tommy began to quicken his pace.

“Maybe we’ll see you again.” His tone was pleasant and rather charming.

“Maybe…have a nice day.” I called back to him as we continued our hike to catch up with the boys, who had stopped to investigate some small rocks along the trail.

We didn’t stop to talk with them for long. It was a very good thing that we didn’t, because
he
was the Trailside Killer, who had been raping and killing young women and their companions in and around open spaces and parklands in the San Francisco Bay Area for years but had never been identified or caught.

That day, the Trailside Killer, shot to death the well-liked and vibrant young woman sitting next to him,
Ellen Marie Hansen
. But first, he viciously shot her boyfriend,
Stephen Haertle
, leaving him in the bushes for dead.

The Trailside Killer was more active now than ever before and people of the San Francisco Bay Area were afraid.

We continued our hike on the down side of the hiking trail, which brought us out into the campground just above our campsite.

E
llen Marie Hansen and Stephen Haertle, were undergraduates at the University of California at Davis. Stephen was a junior and Ellen was a sophomore. On March 29, 1981 they were hiking together on one of the trails not far from their campground in Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park in the Santa Cruz Mountains. A stranger had passed them a couple of times along the trail, but they didn’t think anything of it. Suddenly, the stranger appeared again holding a gun. The stranger threatened them with the gun, insisting that Ellen allow him to rape her. She refused. Stephen tried to talk the stranger out of it begging him to let both of them go. Stephen lost his footing at the edge of the trail and when he did the stranger shot him. The bullets burrowed through Stephen’s neck and the stranger left him for dead as he lay motionless and unconscious in the bushes on the forest floor. When Stephen finally regained consciousness, he was disoriented and bleeding badly from the gunshot wounds. Sadly, he found Ellen near by, her head lying in a pool of blood. She was dead. The stranger wanted to rape Ellen, but her protests lead to him shooting her several times point blank, twice in the head and once in the shoulder, killing her instantly. Stephen was horrified but eventually was able to attract the attention of other hikers who passed by along the trail. Stephen Heartle was able to recover from his wounds after a long stay in the hospital. Stephen lived to describe the stranger and seven other hikers reported the man to the police but the Trailside Killer wasn’t finished with his path of destruction, by any means. There were more victims and more sadness to come for other families of the San Francisco Bay Area in the weeks and months ahead
.

After the hike, inside the travel trailer, we washed our hands and freshened up before lunch. It was nice and warm inside with the forced air heater on.

At the table we looked over a map of the area that the ranger had given us. We noticed another section of the Park that had a railroad train and a walking trail. It was called
Roaring Camp Big Trees Railroad
. We decided to unhook our station wagon from the travel trailer and drive over after lunch.

We parked our Ford station wagon in the Roaring Camp parking lot and walked through the wide entrance to the huge picnic area. Redwood picnic tables were full of visitors eating and enjoying themselves. This section of the Park featured a narrow gauge railroad with a huge old steam engine, gift shop, and a nature walking trail.

We considered taking a ride on the enormous black steam train but eventually decided against it. We wandered over to the nearby gift shop and spent some time browsing, then took the walking trail through the tall redwoods that seemed to be so popular.

The walking trail was flat, unlike the hike we did in the morning at Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. There were many people on this trail; some with cameras taking nature shots of the beautiful and majestic stately old redwood trees, pretty little flowers, unique mushrooms, ferns, and birds.

One serious young man was lying across the walking trail trying to get a certain camera angle on a particular mushroom. Other hikers stopped to look, but no one minded stepping over or around him.

Soon we came upon a giant redwood tree that was attracting visitors to its huge open trunk cavity that you
could actually walk in to. It was like a little room in the woods but real dark inside with no light. Some of the curious toddlers and younger kids hiking with their parents ran into the tree cavity and just as quickly ran out screaming. We all went inside the tree cavity too, but it was too dark in there for me, so I didn’t stay inside very long.

The rest of the walking hike was full of beautiful natural plant-life and tall grand redwood trees. It was a memorable afternoon of discovery in the forest that we all enjoyed.