Monday, day two of my new running streak, I took a leisurely run at the marina. Well, it wasn’t exactly “leisurely” because when I run flats, I try to pick up the speed. I’m so accustomed to a slower pace due to the elevation gains I usually run, I must take advantage of the flats, so that I don’t train myself only to run slowly. Still, my faster pace is rather slow. Be that as it may, I ran faster than I usually do. And that was fun.
I took a quick look at the daily fish count. Look at all those fish, and three fishing boats were docking at the time, so their fish wasn’t even counted yet. The café’s and restaurants were filled with tourists. And there were smokers all about. I assumed they were out-of-staters, because in California, smokers usually go back into the deepest darkest recesses to light up.
Tuesday, day 3 of my new running streak, I went for a run and search. A running friend told me where to find a WWII bunker off the trails in the coastal hills. 8:00 AM, I set out for a ten mile loop in search of this bunker.
I began the loop in Newport Beach in the Laguna Wilderness, and ran a rolling truck trail down to the shore. The weather was pleasantly cool. For the first three miles, I didn’t even take a sip of the icy fluids strapped to my back. I don’t even think I turned my hat around for the first three miles. That’s how cool the weather was. Lovely.
I had to climb a nasty trail, a steep truck trail, with paved portions. Paved! Also, not one single tree (aka. shade) lines the entire trail. Stopping at the first location I figured to search for the bunker, I found nothing. A bit disappointed, I thought to myself, “I have to take this trail again!!” That trail is named B.F.I. appropriately named (Big F’ing Incline).
Before reaching the top however, I finally spotted it. I noticed the cap first and ran on over to check out the bunker. The cap was locked so there was no getting inside. But I was able to crouch down and peer into it from a front opening. I felt a bit sad exploring this historical remnant. Mankind went through a terrible time during this period. I even felt odd taking a picture of myself in front of the bunker. I felt like I shouldn’t smile. But I did.
After my bunker find, I ran up another ridge then closed up this loop for 9.9 miles. Ended up I drank all 64 fluid ounces of my Nuun dissolved ice water.
The profile (Route: No Name Ridge, No Dogs, B.F.I., El Moro Ridge, Missing Link, Fence Line, Bommer Ridge):