TALES FROM THE TRAIL (AND SOMETIMES THE ROAD TOO)

Showing posts with label Bommer Canyon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bommer Canyon. Show all posts

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Marijuana Bust

Friday I got out by noon and drove along the toll road for a run in Crystal Cove and Laguna Wilderness.  I had forgotten that nearly every time I run there I think I will never return.  Why?  Because so dang little shade.  Somehow, I always find my way back, and smack in the middle of a summer afternoon.

I arrived to Ridge Park, the hills in Irvine/Newport that overlook Newport Coast, amidst loud and chaotic excitement.  A couple helicopters flew above dumping marijuana plants onto a pile in the middle of the road.  Police vehicles and news vans crowded the streets.  To top it off, spectators drove in and out of the one opened area, laughing and talking, excited about the smell of marijuana in the air. 

The marijuana fragrance was strong and stayed with me for a while on the dry hot trails.  I ran right through the commotion, thinking that law enforcement would stop me.  They didn’t, but I did notice a news camera following with its lens, and I thought, “FUDGE!  I don’t want to be on the news.”  (I didn’t quite use the word “fudge.”)

It wasn’t long before I was away from all the commotion.  I saw very few runners or hikers on the trails.  Understandably.  It was just too hot.  I wondered how on earth farmers were able to grow illegal crops in this mostly brown, exposed wilderness area.  How did they water the approximate 4,000 plants.  How were they going to harvest without being detected? 

I arrived at the bottom taking No-Name Ridge and No-Dogs a little overheated.  I decided to take El Moro Canyon back up to Bommer Ridge (the shorter choice), scratching my original plans to run past the canyon and straight up to Moro Ridge.  I’m not sure the canyon route was the best choice.  I felt like I was running in an oven.  On a ridge I would have at least experienced a breeze.  

No-Name Ridge:

No-Dogs Trail:

Making my way through the canyon & stopping in the first bit of shade:

Much needed shade (& this was about all of it):

With about a quarter mile left before reaching Bommer Ridge, I konked out.  Light headed, I needed to cool off my body temperature.  It appeared that I let heat exhaustion overcome me once again.  Dang it.  Sitting in the shade, I took in a nice breeze and it seemed my temperature cooled quickly.  After about ten minutes, I finally got to my feet and slowly ran the additional 1.5 miles to the truck. 

Recuperating, waiting or my temperature to drop:

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Oh!  And I was on the news – a Spanish language station.  A running friend, Conrado, took a picture of his television as I ran across the screen, and sent it to me via facebook. Smile with tongue out

Friday, December 7, 2012

Take Two

Today’s run ended my “rest while running” time.  I thought it apropos to end my “rest” by attempting the run that seemed to set the downward spiral in motion during my training last September. 

I set out running Bommer Ridge in dense fog this morning headed for Old Emerald.  I took a wrong turn last time, which resulted in pure HECK.  This morning I accidently took Bommer ridge down to Willow Trail, which I do every single time.  That was no big deal.  I just had a short uphill run to get back on track.

 

I came upon one other runner on this lovely, yet eerie morning.  He turned around and joyfully hollered a greeting.  Bundled up from head to toe, I couldn’t tell right off if I knew the man.  I mean, he kind of looked familiar.  “Do I know you?” I asked.  (I say that more than ever now that I’m a trail runner).  Turns out we didn’t know each other.  My friends and family who don’t run trails think that this sport is small.  And it is.  BUT to me, it’s a huge sport.  I constantly come upon people at races and on the trails that I’ve never seen before. (And I stay in my own state!)

Anyway, a thick gray coyote looked on at me through the mist as I ran onward searching for Old Emerald Trail.  I felt certain I missed it last time because it was not marked.

I focused off to my right for an unmarked single-track.  Eventually, I found a distinct single-track.  Unmarked.  It didn’t look familiar.  But keep in mind, when I run Old Emerald, I run up it.  I ran down Old Emerald just once. 

So, I ran that single-track down the hillside and told myself firmly, “If you get into trouble, TURN BACK.”   I noticed bike tracks, no footprints.   Nothing looked familiar.  With the fog so thick, I could not make out my surroundings very well.  Then finally, I noticed a ledge down below that could probably give me a good view.

From the ledge, I could see the meadow I was aiming for, way, way off in the distance.  Problem was, there was a ridge between me and the meadow.  I was on the wrong trail.  It’s pretty much a straight shot to the meadow from Old Emerald.  I would definitely remember having run over another ridge.

So, I ran back up that single-track, a little proud of myself for not taking the trail anyway, just to see what would happen.  Smile

Back on Bommer Ridge, I came upon another single-track.  I ran a short distance of it, to the edge, before its descent.  I could still see that ridge.  Wrong trail.  And so, I continued onward, confident that I would find Old Emerald because here and there I could see an outline of the ridge that separated the canyon from my meadow.  Sure enough, soon after the other ridgeline sloped down to nothing, I came upon this trail:

Unmarked?  It may seem so.  I felt vindicated.  That is until I turned around and saw the trail marker, clear as day on the left edge of Bommer Ridge.  I ran down Old Emerald with great focus and renewed energy.  At the bottom, I ran probably twenty-five feet before I came to Old Emerald Falls Trail.

Entering Old Emerald Falls:

The meadow!

The climb out of Old Emerald Falls was a chore.  It was single track, and in places technical, which took my mind off the difficulty.  From there I caught Moro Ridge and ran it all the way to the ocean (well, I had to take a couple other trails).  I saw these two, seemingly tame deer as I made my way down B.F.I. Trail:

Running beneath Hwy One for a view of the grand Pacific:

From there it was all uphill, a lovely, cool uphill.  The last run of my “restful running” couldn’t have turned out better. 

Running Bommer Emerald Falls Morro Ridge BFI No Name loop 12-7-2012, Elevation - Distance

Saturday, August 14, 2010

I am done

First off, I am not done with physical therapy as hoped.  The hip still aches (though my back is good).  Every time I run or pretty much do any activity, my pelvis rotates forward.  But now I know how to align it by myself.  Secondly, I’ve mentioned already my infected toe.  But I have neglected to write how I came upon that misfortune. 

The exciting history of the toe (left foot, next to pinkie):  It started with a callus, a perfectly normal occurrence with me.  But then I accidentally kicked the sharp corner of an enormously heavy lawyer’s case in my bedroom.  Okay.  That hurt.  BUT THEN, while cleaning out my boys’ closet I swiped that same toe across one of the bows my husband made (as in bow and arrow kind of bow) which put a nice slice in that same toe!

I ignored it.  Because I’m good at that.  I slapped on a Band-Aid, continued to run and limp around afterwards.  Then one day about a week ago, my husband demanded a look and dealt with it – my toe was infected and full of puss.  While I wiggled and hollered, he sliced the bubble of puss open and drained it.  Afterward, I soaked it several times a day in hydrogen peroxide, slapped anti-biotic ointment and a Band-Aid on, and continued to run.

To make a long story a tad shorter, my doctor says it’s called Paronychia.  He prescribed antibiotics and suggested that I not run this morning. 

5:00 AM I was up dressing for a trail run.  I bandaged the toe and was driving to El Moro – Ridge Park for an Emerald Bay run by 5:30 AM.  The fog covered the roads so thick it was distracting.  (I very much dislike driving in thick fog).  The weather was down right cold and gray at the park.  But that was lovely for a run.

We had five in our group today:  Myself, Sheila, Tom, Kelly and newcomer, Boris.  After taking the ridge for a bit, we headed down Emerald Falls Trail for an out-and-back down Emerald Canyon.  There was some bushwhacking, and gorgeous, yet eerily quiet trails.  The beauty immense, I was in a bit of trouble with the aching hip and toe.  By the time we were finished, I made the promise to myself (and out loud to my friends),  I am taking the whole week off from running.  Yes!  That’s what I said.  I’m not going to run until Bulldog.  Sounds crazy to me.  But I’ve got to do it.  So I decided, swimming only.  The P.T. says it will be great for the hip, and it also will do good not to have a shoe rubbing against my toe. 

Running Down Emerald Cyn CIMG6609

Taking in the Scenery

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Heading Back on Emerald Falls Trail (One of the few flats back)

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A beauty of a web – in person it resembled a piece of crystal art

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Back at home again, I was overly cold.  I did my little march to find what I expected.  My right pelvis had rotated forward (down) at least an inch.  I got it aligned, soaked the toe.  A few hours later, still cold, but hip and toe much better, I crawled beneath a blanket and fell asleep for at least an hour.

So, there you have it.  I am done with running to train for Bulldog.  Adding 2 or three more tapered runs isn’t going to do me any good.  I need to get well, or I’m gonna fall flat on my face come next Saturday.

If any of you see me out on the trails – scold me!  You won’t be seeing though.  Like I said, I’m done.

Miles logged 9.75

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Bommer Canyon – Wilderness Access Day


Six runners from my trail running group met bright and early for access into a normally closed preserve in Bommer Canyon. Even at 7:00 AM the sun bared down, while I signed in and clipped the day pass to my belt. Hikers and bikers, and our group of runners hit trails still somewhat shaded by the cliff’s edges. Right away, we made for the ridge, climbing, climbing, climbing out of the shade along East Fork out into the sun.

So alluring, a hearty welcome to this preserved canyon
Notice all that SHADE at the parking lot!
Victoria, Anna, Me, Tom, Kelly, Sheila


What a relief to make Hogback Ridge. I felt good, and was careful to drink from the camelback regularly. It was dang hot! We did some more climbing, ran Serrano Ridge along low-lying shrubs and cacti. A docent greeted us at one point, offered water, granola. We were a glad group, not in need of much water, still feeling strong. We descended down Shady Oaks (which wasn’t shady at all!) then made our way up Fox Run – a narrow single track, with a huge, tough, extremely tough grade, plenty of loose dirt and rocks. Somewhere on the way to Little Sycamore, we met another docent. I said, “Hey, he looks familiar,” when my group laughed and said, “he’s the same guy we saw back there!”

A quick stop to check the map


Who could tell that it would be so dang hot ?
Downhill at last -- love those descents

Flying through the brush

A pose just before the descent on Little Sycamore

Little Sycamore was a down hill blast, single track, with some treacherous rock work here and there. I was really feeling the heat by this point. So were the some of the others. One of the ladies was suffering, it seemed, more than the rest of us, as we made our way to the bottom.What a relief it was to make Nix Nature Center. We stopped for bathrooms and the water fountain. Wanting to conserve my camelback, I guzzled down at the fountain. Then after resting up we hit the dirt again for another series of steep climbs: Stagecoach South, Camarillo Canyon. Both offered very little shade. Cicadas buzzed in the brush, as the heat began to really take its toll on a couple of runners. Then on the nasty climb, beneath the sizzling sun, the group split. I told Tom that I’d wait for them at Ridge Route, because I wanted to run back the long way to get in my mileage, and I was off with two of the ladies who had to get back for prior engagements.

I do believe that's a bit a shade behind that sign!!


And then my water ran out! Okay, I already told Tom that I’d meet them at Ridge Route, but with no water, it wasn’t wise for me to take the long way. Docent! I needed a docent. I asked Victoria for her map to study on a few occassions, because I knew that we’d be departing soon (why did I leave my map at the car???) And then, up ahead on the ridge, I saw a police truck, a wonderful, wonderful police truck. I ran up, a crowd of hikers mingling about, and asked if he had water. Sure enough, he did, and I poured a bottle into my camelback. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I told him about our other three runners, and asked if he could drive one of them down if needed (dehydration is not something to mess around with). He didn’t seem too concerned, and answered that if the person was really bad off, he could take them down. I kinda thought that was odd. My feeling was that he would head along the ridge and see if anyone needed help. But it seemed he enjoyed the company of the hikers too much to stop chatting and take off.

Well, soon after, I departed from my running partners. Actually, they departed from me, taking a shorter, steeper way down. And I waited on alone the ridge, not a stitch of shade to be found, for the remainder of my group. I took the water bag out of my camelback to release the air (so that water sloshing wouldn’t irritate my ears). And, oh man! I only had a small amount of water left. Sweating like I was, it wasn’t going to last. No, I too might be in trouble.

And then an angel appeared. He rode a bike, and with the helmet on and the glare of the sun, I probably wouldn’t recognize this docent if I ever met him again. “Is everything ok?” he asked. “Yah,” told him, “just trying to get the air out of my bag.”

“Do you need some more water?” And then he commenced to fill up my camelback. He even let the air out. Wonderful, wonderful man. I told him about the three behind me, and about the lady in our group who was suffering some, and he headed off to deliver her some calories! An angel indeed!

Angel on a bike


As he rode off, I walked in that direction too, hoping to meet up with them. When sure enough, I saw my group, minus one. Thankfully, the policeman had driven down our runner most affected by this extreme heat. The angel docent refilled both Tom and the other lady from the group that I had just met this morning, and we headed back for the finish. We ran it in all the way back to the road. Tom ran all the way back to the check-in tent, like he was ready for another loop! We were offered water, and we took plenty of it. The volunteers commented on what a great job we did – “that would have been tough on a bike,” one of them said. We met up with our other runner who was resting in the policeman’s air-conditioned car. She looked so much better than I last saw her. I was glad to see.

I iced my hip and guzzled down two ice cold waters in my car on the way home. I continued hydrating at home, ate broccoli and rice, then a green salad. I bathed, changed and then crashed, I mean CRASHED. I cannot express how drained I felt. I lay on the couch for a couple of hours, and when I did get up, I lumbered. But I had chores to do, I didn’t have time for this! Oh yes I did. Finally, I got in at least an hour of sleep. Then after a spaghetti dinner, I began to climb, oh so slightly, out of the hole.

Today’s run wiped me out.I think Bommer Canyon is best for a winter run. (But I'm already happy that I did today's run -- a huge challenge met).

Miles logged today: 11.5
Total elevation gain: 2,400 feet