As a recent New York transplant to Los Angeles, what I appreciate most being here is the easy access to nature. I’m talking about legitimate nature. Not manufactured (albeit beautiful) grass islands like my beloved Central and Prospect Parks that sit in the midst of concrete jungles. But actual topography like the Santa Monica Mountains that cut through the city boasting a labyrinth of hiking trails.

The Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area is the world’s largest urban national park, sprawling over 153,075 acres, 26 zip codes and 5 area codes. Thus the hiking options in LA are practically endless. Some trails like Runyon Canyon are for those who want to “see and be seen” while there are numerous options for folks who want to commune with nature or get a solid glute workout. One such place is Fryman Canyon Park, 122 acres in the eastern Santa Monica Mountains complete with an adult jungle gym, winding mountainside paths and even a “rainforest.”

Fryman Canyon Park starts at the Nancy Hoover Pohl Overlook at 8401 Mulholland Drive which located ten minutes from West Hollywood (depending on traffic because it is LA) and 1200 feet above Studio City. It is named in honor of the environmental conservationist, Nancy Hoover Pohl, who successfully lobbied to preserve thousands of acres of this land from becoming the Laurel Canyon Highway in the 1970’s. Fryman Canyon is also a home to bobcats, grey foxes and mule deer that would have disappeared from the region without the dedication of activists fighting to maintain these swathes of land.

A small parking lot lets you know you’re in the right place as well as the random mini-outdoor gym with adult-sized (!!!) monkey bars and a sit-up station. When you arrive at the overlook, you are greeted with 180 degree view of the Valley, a sprinkling of cacti, and a kaleidoscope of green and brown mountain hues from Fryman Canyon. Follow the dirt path for about a quarter of a mile to the steep downhill fork to the left. It takes you to the Betty B. Dearing Cross Mountain Trail and into a wooded wonderland.

The 1.5 mile trail is a considerable workout with its steep inclines and narrow mountainside paths. But it is incredibly beautiful and feels like you’re walking through a fairy tale forest. Other times the walk feels like a walking roller coaster, as you traverse winding mountainside curves, quick turns and sharp drops. (Pro-tip: wear some cross trainers or shoes with some grip because those rocky dirt hills can be treacherous even in running kicks.)

There’s also some jarring sights like the remains of an old jeep that must have flown off of Mulholland decades before. There’s graffiti etched in the sides of fallen trees and old cracked wooden bridges over streams that are more like puddles (thanks drought). You’ll inhale the fresh smell of sage as monarch butterflies dance around your head. If you listen, you can hear frogs chit-chatting.

About halfway through, you’ll see signs for this infamous rainforest. If you’re anything like me, you’ll walk through it and then ask other hikers, “Was that the rainforest?” Not to be a buzzkill but if you’re expecting anything remotely resembling the Amazon then you will be disappointed. But with an open mind, the rainforest — a shady cove of lush green plants complete with a small creek and another wooden plank makeshift bridge — is a hidden gem. There’s a slight dampness in the air because it is covered by palms, weeping willows and other flora which is a refreshing reprieve from the typically dry LA air. Beware of the creepy and likely harmless creaking tree that teases you with the threat of falling. You’ll know it by the man-made teepee of fallen branches that’s fit for a gnome. It’s a definite photo opp.

Plan to spend some time there. Go early in the day. Sit and meditate. Practice your tightrope act on the rolling logs that stretch over the stream. Bring a book, or have a picnic with some friends. You’ll see numerous other hikers but somehow it still feels like an exclusive secret that only a select few are in on. Or maybe that’s just the Hollywood in me.