He Tames Black’s Beach Bluff Into ‘Steve’s Trail’

Steve Simms stands on a dusty bluff overlooking Black’s Beach, gazing down 340 feet of twisting, tortuous trail that over the years has thrown as big a challenge at surfers as the gnarly waves below.

As his eyes squint through a morning haze, Simms does not see a dangerous path along which dozens of daring beach-goers have been seriously injured attempting to scale its steep-sloped terrain.

Instead, he sees a beloved improvement project taking shape above the scenic La Jolla shores. He sees the hundreds of bulky bricks, 2-by-4s, iron pipes and heavy sacks of concrete he has hauled down the winding trail like a two-legged packhorse.

He sees the sections of his sturdy wooden steps, handrails and metal drainage pipes that have made the path a much safer way to reach the famous nudist beach--a popular gathering spot for surfers and natural sunbathers throughout Southern California.

Simms smiles. What he sees is a much-improved access many locals now affectionately call “Steve’s Trail.”

“See that section right down there?” he says, pointing to a wood-and-concrete set of steps that includes a lookout point to the beach below. “That’s the one I’m most proud of.”

For five years, the San Diego part-time carpenter has donated his time, money and sweat to improve the trail that is used by tens of thousands of beach enthusiasts each year.

When he is not hammering nails, mixing concrete, smoothing blacktop and grading wood, the 39-year-old scours local building sites looking for donations of materials. Simms peers inside dumpsters in search of usable bricks, scrap metal or pipes--anything to keep construction on schedule.

At night, though he says he has a home, the self-professed loner often prefers to sleep outdoors in one of the gullies near his creation, sharing campfires and six-packs of beer with the area’s homeless population.

Meanwhile, his trail has become a controversial undertaking, admired by some beach-goers, criticized by others. The project proceeds under the watchful eye of city officials who will neither condemn Simms’ work nor help him in his efforts.

“Five years ago, when I started construction, I called the city to tell them what I was doing,” Simms said, angling down the cliffside with a shovel slung over his shoulder.

“They were all too busy to call me back. So I decided to just go ahead and get it done.”

Terri Williams, deputy city parks and recreation director, said that while the unstable trail was officially closed a decade ago, Simms’ work has been so solid that city officials have decided to look the other way.

“He’s not going to be congratulated or taken before the City Council for any awards,” she said. “But his trail is certainly an improvement over any other access for people who go to that beach at their own risk.”

Authorities acknowledge that in the last decade more than two dozen injuries--and a few deaths--have resulted from people slipping along precarious trails while scaling the unstable cliffs.

At Black’s Beach, the sentiment over Steve’s Trail is divided.

“Is Steve going to take responsibility if somebody falls and breaks his neck?” said Joe Bill, manager of the adjacent Torrey Flight Park, a popular hang-glider launching area.

“A lot of us around here would like to see him stop his work and go on his merry way.”

Regulars say the trail has changed the demographics of the beach.

For years, the beach was so inaccessible that nude sunbathers as well as a large gay population could lounge in privacy. The city did not see the need to enforce a no-nudity law on a beach that few people could reach.

Now, that all may change as families and tourists begin gawking as they take the Black’s Beach tour, locals say.

“Still, I marvel every time I use that trail,” said beach regular Al Spencer. “It’s really a solid piece of engineering, a labor of love. I think most people appreciate what he’s done.”

Surfers complain that the once-isolated beach is becoming too accessible. They claim that their beach is crowded with beginning surfers--geeks, goons and kooks, they call them--and other undesirables.

“I mean, why does he do it?” one surfer asked. “Why doesn’t he just leave the trail alone? Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

Joe Moberg, a homeless man who has helped Simms with his work, had a possible answer: “Sometimes people just do things, they take up a cause. Well, this is Steve’s cause. Day and night.”