TALES FROM THE TRAIL (AND SOMETIMES THE ROAD TOO)

Thursday, March 26, 2020

It's a Jungle Out There.

I believe it was March 20 when the governor made it official and ordered a shelter-in-place for California to help slow the spread of COVID19. With off and on rain, I was eager to hit some trails the next day (3/21), and as of late, I've been able to do that with the absence of people.  I have been known to occasionally hike off trail or hike places that are closed (but not in a long, LONG time).  This situation is quite different, so believe me, I checked out the shelter-in-place order before deciding on a Saturday hike. I found from everything that was published online on this shelter-in-place that I could walk my dog, run or hike as long as I did it alone, or with someone that I lived with. (Thank goodness, because the gym was out of the question as they were all ordered closed along with all the other "non-essential" businesses).  

I wasn't so naive to think that the trails weren't going to be crowded. Every place that immediately came to mind didn't seem right. I was trying to hide; I needed to go where others would not. What I really wanted was Black Star Canyon, but I knew, because of the ample parking and the relative ease of driving there, Black Star, was going to be packed. The coastal trails in my area were all closed due to "wet and muddy conditions."  I also wasn't up for the local beaches (not with the downright bad attitude posts I'd been reading from community members -- Wow, just wow, so mean, it's a jungle out there!). Anyway, if Black Star was going to be crowded, so then were Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary and Silverado Canyon, and they have much fewer parking spots. I also wasn't up for any big drives, so Blue Jay Campgrounds and that general area of the Cleveland National Forest was off. What I finally decided on is that lovely, quaint canyon behind Caspers, called Hot Springs Canyon. There's rarely any cars in the lot. There's also a little mountain driving, not much, but enough that I thought it might curtail hikers from choosing this trail.

I was wrong.

The parking lot was more packed than I have EVER seen.

Fortunately, San Juan Trail is a long difficult trail. That means most people don't take it. And once I got started I rarely saw anyone else on the trail. There were more mountain bikers than usual -- but that's always the case on San Juan Trail; it is a mountain biker trail. I also noticed once I climbed a bit and was able to look further down the canyon, that many of the people were merely taking a stroll up Hot Springs Canyon to Lazy W -- they were not headed up San Juan Trail.

So, it was a lovely, lovely hike! Really. The skies were blue. I could see the ocean and Catalina Island. The weather was cool and crisp. What an awesome 13 mile hike. It was not perfect "social distancing". Though I could travel for miles without seeing another soul, there were times when I'd come up on a group of 5 or 6 on this single track. When we could, we all practiced "social distancing". At my turnaround point, Cocktail Rock, I met about 5 others taking in the views. We stood about in somewhat of a circle, all about 6 feet apart. One-by-one, we all took off heading back down the mountain. I took up the rear, since I was the only one on foot. Right after leaving the scenic spot, I came upon 2 other hikers making their way up the trail. And then I was completely alone for the next five or so miles. I did my regular spill toward the bottom of San Juan Trail on my return (pretty much always fall on this trail -- it's so sandy slippery). My injuries were minor: a road burn and bruise on right shin. Barely felt it.

That was March 21. It's been five days since I've hit the trails. The online screaming matches continue regarding staying at home. What a wild, wild time. I do see people out and about, taking walks and hiking. But the streets are basically empty and those who venture out are getting lambasted online. It's really not a great time to be talking about hikes and running. I have been staying home, except to venture out to the grocery store in search of eggs and paper towels. Our grocery shelves are still practically bare. So, take care out there everyone. If there's things that are really bothering you, just turn it off (now). As my 10th grade history teacher, Mr. Gallatin used to warn us at the end of just about every class -- "It's a jungle out there!"

San Juan Trail during Shelter-In-Place
















Route: San Juan Trail out of Hot Springs Canyon, to Cocktail Rock just below Sugarloaf Peak.


Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Car Wreck/Rock-It Loop

March 19 (Thursday) Social Distancing was the talk of the town, but there was still no official shelter-in-place order. I had been converting all my classes to online and learning the software that I would be recording my lectures (Zoom). And so when we had another break in the rain, I was eager to take a break from work and headed on off to Aliso Canyon where the fields were green, but the skies were gray. The parking lot at the ranger station was closed but there was plenty of room to park on the street and in the church parking lot across the street. There were other cars parked about with hikers and mountain bikers -- I'd say 20 to 30. But this wilderness park is about 4500 acres. So if each of those cars had 2 people each, that'd be 60 people in a 4500 acre area, which of course means you stand a good chance of not seeing a single other person there.

The park itself was open, I confirmed by talking with a ranger. And then minutes later, as I was headed out toward Aliso Creek Trail, the rain began to fall. I hurried beneath the structure that houses a piece of historic farm equipment, hoping to wait it out. It was cold windy wind, so I took a gamble and headed off into the native plant garden to a couple of benches that I recalled beneath some trees that overlooked Aliso Creek. What I didn't remember was that those trees were deciduous, which means the benches were completely exposed this time of year (no leaves!). By the time I made it back to my truck in the church parking lot, I was pretty drenched. Fortunately, I was wearing a pair of quick-dry hiking shorts, and I had a dry beanie waiting to replace the drenched one upon my head.


I checked my weather app to see that this storm would be passing and leaving a wide area open for slight rain, or no rain at all. And I just sat there for a while in my truck, taking in the few people here and there scurrying into their cars. Twenty to thirty cars may seem like a lot for this pre-shelter-in-place "Social Distancing" phase we were in. But it's really not for this park on a spring day (and spring break for many), you could easily see 5 times as many people. I finally felt dry enough to venture out of the truck. It was about 11:30 am. I was still on spring break, and the next week, more after that, I was working from home, so I had time to get in a hike, and so grateful I was for that. The dark rain clouds at last parted and Aliso Canyon looked like this:


Aliso Creek was roaring


In Wood Canyon, about to cross over Wood Creek


Because I set out so late on this hike/run (but mainly hike), I decided against the Big Loop or any version thereof. Instead, I decided to head up Wood Canyon, turn off on Mathis, then before the big climb up Mathis, turn off onto Oak Grove Trail. This lovely green and wooded trail leads to a land of fairies and magical spells, a wrecked car from long ago (now destroyed from vandals) and a magnificently steep trail that climbs back up to Mathis (near West Ridge). I don't often find myself on Car Wreck, as it is quite difficult going up. But on this particular day, that kind of uphill climbing was just what I needed.

Kickin' Back on this Bizarrely Placed Bench on Oak Grove Trail
 

Car Wreck Trail


A tiny bit of rain came down on Car Wreck Trail. And surprisingly, I met up with two separate groups of people, each consisting with about 4 people (I think the first group had 5). That's quite unusual. As empty as this park was, I would have figured that one of the most remote trails (like Car Wreck) would have had no people sightings. I did some live video going up Car Wreck (it really is that fun of a trail!). And then at Mathis and West Ridge, I found the trails desolate once again.

I elected to head back via Rock-It and Coyote Run Trails. I saw a couple of people off in the distance on RockIt Trail. I don't recall any others. The park was pretty desolate. 4,500 acres is a lot of land. What a beautiful day it was!
Rock-It




Saturday, March 21, 2020

Empty Grocery Shelves & An Order To Social Distance

This past Tuesday, March 17, we got another break in rains. We were not in a statewide shelter-in-place order yet, but practically everything had closed down: schools, libraries, bars, dine-in restaurants, theaters, gyms, sports, concerts, etc. From what I see around me, no one is in a panic -- no one I talk to, none of my family members. But there is a lot of public discourse if you have any of the apps or belong to your community's social media pages. People are posting angrily and want everyone to stay inside of their homes. Hunker down! On Tuesday, "Social Distancing" was the order of the day -- that is don't meet in groups, publicly or privately, and stay at least 6 feet from one another outside of your family. I thought local mountains were the perfect place of course, to social distance myself. 

I decided to take drive up Santiago Canyon Road and turn off into Modjeska Canyon. That took about thirty minutes. I was aiming for a shortish hike, so I was in no rush and could enjoy the drive -- I found it calming. I parked off to the side of the road along Modjeska Grade, which was a short uphill distance (about 1/4 mi) away from Santiago Truck Trail. It's an asphalt hike to the trail head with this gorgeous view overlooking the homes off of Modjeska Grade and Santiago Canyon Rd:


Santiago Truck Trail (STT) is the perfect trail when I want short distance (as in about 7 miles). Of course, STT is good for long distances too, as there's Joplin Trail and Old Camp off Yonder! It's a beautiful trail and it never gets old. My heart sang on Tuesday the moment my feet hit the dirt. I  was very much in the mood to toughen it up and didn't hesitate to take the higher, more difficult single track that backbones up above Santiago Truck Trail.  What gorgeous views!


Meeting back up with STT the views did not disappoint. I took it to the flags across from the vulture crags. It's mainly uphill on the way out, except for this one grand sweeping downhill that meets up with The Luge Trail. There were no more than a half dozen mountain bikers over those 7+ miles (but I really think the number was more like 4). Either way, STT was a tranquilizer, and a easy pill to swallow at that. What a contrast it was up there to what's going on down here. Up there (on Santiago Truck trail) there's beauty surrounding. There's majesty. There's history. There's respect. What a great escape to what's going on down here. Down here, need I say, there's a disruption, a major disruption. There's empty grocery shelves and an order to social distance.

STT never gets old. And I think it even gets better in the midst of a pandemic. 

7.12 miles, 1,409' elevation gain.

Social Distancing










Thursday, March 19, 2020

Social Distancing


With my teaching assignments going online, and my children all off from school (2 youngest @ home and oldest still in college dorm), life has been altered (quite disrupted) to say the least. All events, rehearsals, lessons, everything has been cancelled. The state of California and much of the nation (as well as the world) is practicing "social distancing." No longer do I need to wake by 7:00 am to get my boys off to school. No longer do I drive 60 miles a day. Nowadays, I try to sleep in as late as I can possibly stand it (which is between 8:00 and 9:00 am). I feel like I need the rest. Most of the businesses in my town are closed and with the off and on rain, the streets most days are empty. The shelves in the groceries stores are empty as well. Every single store. It’s an odd thing. Surreal. I’ve never experienced anything like it.

We are not in a literal “shelter-in-place,” though there’s cities in San Francisco County that are, and probably even more areas in California by now too. In my county, there’s an order against gathering publicly or privately. Church services are cancelled. Bars and restaurants (except for take out) are closed. Gyms are closed. Theaters are closed. It’s a screeching grinding halt to the economy. We can’t find grocery essentials (like toilet paper, eggs and rice), but on the other hand, I just paid $2.85 a gallon to fill up my gas tank. I can’t remember when fuel has been that low. It's been years. 

On the 16th (Monday, the first day of my official “spring break”), we got a break in the rain. Much to to my surprise, I was living my spring break in a surreal world. I knew that I needed to get out and put some miles beneath my feet. (I believe my husband even pleaded with me to do so 😅) But I didn't feel like it; in fact, I dreaded it. I watched the weather reports, and they said rain, rain, rain for the next several days. And here I was on March 16 with a break in the rain. I felt I just couldn’t chance it. I feared that I may not see another break in the rain for a while. So, I took off locally, with pavement beneath my feet (and a new pair of road running shoes -- yay!). My left foot injury felt very faint, and it fared no worse, I am grateful to say, from this run. Even though I dreaded it, within 15 seconds of my feet hitting the ground, I was glad to be out pounding pavement. My spirit felt lighter. I don't think I enjoyed the running as much as I enjoyed the freedom. Running does that; it breaks the chains between you and everything that is. Running down Pacific Coast Highway toward the ocean gave me something else to focus on, something other than the coronavirus (COVID 19). All of that was kept at bay. And that was lovely!  


What started out as a 5 mile out-and-and back to where the sidewalk ends in Capistrano Beach, grew as I made my way back through Doheny Beach. The weather was perfect, the clouds were majestic and awesomely eerie at times.  I ran through the campgrounds which had just a few campers. There were a couple of other runners out. A few people strolled about on the sand. After making my way back through Doheny Beach where I would have normally made my way back to Pacific Coast Highway, I decided to head on off to the jetty to get a good look over at the marina, a spot that I always enjoy taking in. 


After running out to the jetty and back, I was already at about 6 miles in my run, and I thought, well, heck, push it to 7 and see how that feels. By the time I hit 7 miles, I was so close to 10, in my warped mind, that I thought heck, just do three more miles -- you can do that! 

And I did. And the land and skies out before me were beautiful. It was a tiresome journey for sure. And I didn't quite come in at 10 miles. My sports watch AmazFit read 9.61 miles, but uploaded to Strava, the data read 9.5 miles. Either way, I had no more energy to run around the block a couple times (like the old days) to make sure I hit the intended mileage. 😂 9.5 or 9.61 was good enough for me. Left foot is still a little sore, but I don't think that I re-injured it. I think I will try and stay off the pavement for a bit, just to be safe. 




"Baby Beach" in the Dana Point Harbor pictured left, during what is Spring Break 2020 for many. I know many local community apps and social media pages are showing pictures of groups of teens gathering publicly, and there's been quite a bit of discourse on these matters. This is what I saw. Barely a person around. A few runners here and there. A couple people on the sand, a couple eating a Jon's Fish Market (this was before the restaurant closures). A few people at the wharf. A few people in Turk's Bar. That was about it. We are "social distancing".

Saturday, March 14, 2020

The Calm Before the Storm @ Beek's Place

Just before my family's (and much of my entire country's, and others') routines and plans for the next month or so came to a screeching halt, and just before this week or so of rains, I made it out to Black Star Canyon up to Beek's Place for a little over 16 miles (2,339' elevation gain). That was Sunday, March 8.  It was a cold day, but not freezing; it was perfect. I kept bundled the entire trip (aside from taking off the beanie). And the skies, they were spectacular -- blue with giant puffy clouds. There were dozens of us out there on the trails that day: mountain bikers, hikers, runners. I was out there getting in some hiking and running on these lovely trails before the rains set in. I was oblivious to how the next week would turn out with the coronavirus (COVID-19) beginning to make its way through various cities in the U.S. Since then, all three of my sons various events, music and such, have been cancelled. Two of my sons will be home for the next month because their public high school has closed. My oldest son's university has gone online, and my teaching has gone online too. Much to my surprise, the shelves are practically empty at the grocery stores. Business establishments have very few people in them. There's fewer people driving the roads. Right now people are getting ready to shelter in place. And its eerie and surreal. 

I am grateful for those hours up Black Star Canyon on March 12. I love Black Star Canyon still! The fields were green and blooming with purple lupin. The breeze was reinvigorating. As usual, I spent far too much time up at Beek's Place. Instead of coming in at 5 hours, it was more like 5 and 1/2 hours. All well worth it. Black Star Canyon was a great way to spend the calm before the storm -- the literal and the figurative storm. As soon as the rain breaks, I'll be back out on the trails. I figure that I'll be safe from viruses there, perhaps the only place for now. 

Making my way alongside the creek, before the climb begins:

Looking back at the dreamy plateau I just passed through:

On The Main Divide @ Beek's Place





Heading Back: