Bald Peak (or Lauren-on-the-Run meets HikinJim)

I dreamt I was running (as I frequently dream), but this time on dusty, desolate mountain trails.  There were no trees, only shrubs.  And as I ran downhill, I noticed an enormous sign, 70’s era, Las Vegas style sign, without the brilliant lights,  that read, “Iran. Eastern Border.”  (Looking at a map after the fact, I believe that I was in Pakistan.)  Anyway, I slowed my pace, fearful of that border, then noticed a lion up a ways.  He was a dark colored lion, like Scar in The Lion King.  Stricken with fear, I slowly walked backward away from the creature, until he noticed me.  That’s when I ran, still with my face toward the animal.  As I ran backward rather quickly, he took off after me, and I thought, “I just may be dreaming.”  And so I screamed, “WAKE UP!  WAKE UP!!!”  And I woke, so thankful that I was right.

Back to reality – Saturday, I slept in longer than I planned.  I am changing, that’s for sure.  In the past when I overslept, I usually skipped my run.  Saturday, I finally woke at 7:00 AM and was leisurely out the door by 8:00.  Even with a late start, I drove to Silverado Canyon in hopes of running to Bald Peak (a minor peak that I have not yet explored). 

My foot felt really good.  So, I felt paranoid about ruining my progress by running the first 3 1/2 miles of Maple Springs road, which is asphalt.  And so, I did something I’ve never done.  I can’t believe I never thought of it before.  Get this:  I DROVE that single lane asphalt road (single lane as in, room enough for one car) cautiously all the way to where the asphalt ends. 

I took off on a dirt truck trail in the blustery wind, delighted by the millions of leaves fluttering as if applauding the gorgeous day.  My right foot felt PERFECTLY normal.  I’m telling you, no pain whatsoever.  I could not have been more thrilled. 

I came upon several motorcyclists making their way up (4 or 5) and a couple coming down as I headed up toward “Four Corners.” 

A couple mountain bikers passed me as well.  But the mountains were still relatively quiet, except for the leaves clapping in the wind.  More than once I had to chase down my hat when the wind blew it off my head.  Finally, I decided to turn my cap around.  That way the wind couldn’t easily come up beneath the bill and blow it away. 

I made it to “Four Corners” in no time (being that I drove the first 3+ miles of the 7 mile trip).  “Four Corners” is named so, because it is the junction of 4 routes.  1)  Maple Springs Road, 2) The Main Divide, toward Modjeska Peak, 3) Harding Truck Trail, and lastly, 3) The Main Divide heading back toward Silverado.  I ventured on back toward Silverado in my hunt for Bald Peak. 

The hunt was actually quite easy, as one peak stood out vastly among the other shorter peaks.  And there appeared, from the distance, to be a road up to the peak.  When I arrived, I saw that the road was not really a road anymore, but more a grown in, thorny, low-lying brush area, leading up to the peak.  I marched up it, found my peak, ate my breakfast, took a couple pictures of the view, and ran back down to The Main Divide with scratched up legs (but without any blood).

A view from Bald Peak:

My downhill proved tougher for The Foot.  Four wheeled vehicles began making their way up the mountain.  Some of them drove ridiculously fast.   The motorcyclists, mountain bikers and dirt bikers all carried on with polite protocol, nodding or waving as they passed.  Most of the vehicle drivers behaved well too.  There were a few though . . . grrrrrr. 

With about three miles remaining, I came upon a hiker and his young daughter.  Having just moved into the area, he had a question about the trails.  We chatted for a while.  I pointed out the peak I had come to visit.  Turns out, two fellow bloggers were meeting at this moment.  I don’t recall this ever happening to me before.  This Saturday, Lauren-on-the-Run met HikinJim, who blogs his adventures as well.  You can be sure, one of the first things I did when I finally returned home was to look up Jim’s blog.  I had to giggle to myself.  Here I was talking about my peak collecting, and it turns out, he does the same thing with his hiking – collects peak.  I have a lot to learn from HikinJim for sure.  And he has been to some doozy peaks (10,000’+). 

After leaving HikinJim and his daughter, pain began to set in.  My right foot hurt upon impact.  If I were to say that the toughest pain with this condition has been a “10,” Saturday, it was only a “4.”   Still, even with the pain, I was able to hit a ten minute pace here and there.  I wasn’t pushing speed.  I cared more about saving my foot. 

I ran over ten miles on Saturday – mountain miles.  That is a big deal for my foot.  I am hopeful.  Very hopeful. 

One last notable aspect of this surreal run:  I saw a a brown, furry mole scamper across my path as I drove Maple Springs Road back into town.  Now, I can appreciate just about anything – snakes, tarantulas, crazy-bizarre insects, but a mole!  It freaked me out a little.  I’ve never seen one in person , and it didn’t set well with me.  Let’s just say that I didn’t appreciate its beauty. 

Unspeakable Beauty (Trail Running in the Saddleback Mountains)

To bed early (9:00 AM – oh the glory!), I woke at 4 AM.  I hoped to make the drive to the Holy Jim trailhead by 5:40.  But I lazed around the house too long, drinking coffee, casually dressing, that I didn’t arrive until 5:50.  (At least I planned ahead and got my gas the night prior).

On my offroad drive into Trabuco Canyon, I noticed a smoldering camp fire.  A slight breeze blew through the canyon and I didn’t want to take my chances that this fire might spread.  Sure, I could escape, but what about my truck and all those cabins nestled into the canyon.    First off, and more importantly, who sets an illegal fire in the first place, then doesn’t completely extinguish it???  If you’re going to set an illegal fire, be DANG SURE TO PUT IT OUT.  I don’t mean to be judgmental, but am I wrong? Utterly annoyed, I turned my truck around.  Kicking dirt at the fire didn’t do much, as the dirt was compacted and dry.  Remembering that I had plenty of water in my truck, I eventually doused out the fire and headed onward into the canyon.  Not only did these careless fire makers risk a disaster, but they also cost me time.  Oh, the humanity!!!

I arrived to Holy Jim Parking lot, utterly alone.  As I strapped on my vest, I heard voices in the distance and wondered, who the heck is playing in the creek at this hour?  When I finally set out, I saw two runners coming into the lot.  I knew both by sight.  One of the men went to college with my husband, the other I’ve seen running all over the mountains.  Though we are more acquaintances than anything else, I can tell you, it was sure nice to see to familiar faces in a desolate canyon at this hour.  We chatted for a short bit and headed off in opposite directions.
 

I took off up Holy Jim trail, a relentless five-mile uphill switchback to The Main Divide (a truck trail that meanders back and forth behind and front of the mountain with Orange and Riverside County Views).

I have NEVER noticed this sign before (go figure):
More Holy Jim, switchback after switchback, through forest and desert-like terrain:
Looks like the spirit of Caballo Blanco making his way through this canyon (notice the horse head shape of the clouds):

The scenery was so beautiful this morning, I wasted much time taking photos.  I also took some extra time working on form – that is keeping my head and shoulders even with my hips while making my way up hill.  This form felt awkward for some time.  I felt like I was in a marching band, and also like my rear end was sticking out.  But when I checked, I found my column straight.  Odd.
 

I did not see one person travelling up or down Holy Jim.  This of course was perfectly fine with me.  When I’m working on form, I don’t really appreciate company of strangers because I don’t want competition to take over.  The mountains were desolate on this wonderful morning.  Peaceful and serene.  After the parking lot, I didn’t speak a single word.

The final stretch of Holy Jim:

I made it to the top of Holy Jim (Bear Springs) ten minutes slower than my slow time.  Great relief set in as I made my way along The Main Divide.  My ankle cause minor pain, nothing terrible.  But still it worried me.  I took two ibuprofen (Yes, I know that is a no-no).  Overall the Main Divide was unspeakably beautiful.  I could not help but stop to take a few pictures.  I was after all running ABOVE the clouds.  I can’t think of anything that compares to running above the clouds.  It’s a surreal experience running up and down, up and down those rolling hills for several miles.  The mere perfection of this beauty is simply mind-boggling.
   

At last I made it to the infamous West Horsethief.  What a relief!  I tried, and I tried oh so hard to become one with the land travelling down this difficult trail.  I loosened up; I kicked out the back.  And I did pretty dang good for a while.  Then when the fist-sized boulders set in, I began slipping and sliding.  Perhaps I should have slowed my pace.  But my goal was to keep my pace up down West Horsethief.  During races, I lose time going down this trail.  And I hate to lose time running down hill.  Perhaps I didn’t concentrate or focus hard enough.  I’m not sure.  But after several slips and slides, I finally fell.  Fortunately, I fell on my ass, which has lots of cushion.  After impact, I came down on my right wrist, which caused only minimal pain at first, and then it was over.  Even after the fall, I continued to slip and slide down West Horsethief – big bummer, but what a gigantic adventure! 

Despite this approximate 15 mile difficult terrain, I made it back to the truck with energy to spare.  Unfortunately, I’ve been icing my ankle off and on all night. 

Here’s to a quick healing --  here! here!!

Ready to descend on West Horsethief:

Drive-to-the-Mountains-and-Run-Day

When my phone alarm rang out this morning at 4:15 AM, I thought (seriously!), there’s got to be some mistake.  I must have forgotten to turn off my alarm.  Today’s sleep-in day.  Isn’t it??  But then I remembered, today is drive- to-the-mountains-and-run-day. 

I have only one or two days with enough time to run in the mountains.  This week, I had only one day.  Sleep.  Yes, that would have been delightful.  I lay there face up in my bed, struggling to keep my eyes opened.  “Don’t close them,” I said to myself again and again.  At 4:30, I finally jumped up because I knew that I couldn’t lay there much longer without dozing off.

The skies were black when I finally made it out to my truck with hot mug of coffee in my hand.  The moon was full and bright, lighting up the entire beachside neighborhood.  Not another person stirred.  Not a bird chirped.

If I didn’t absolutely love running mountain trails as well as fully understand the good they would do me, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have made it out to Trabuco Canyon this morning.   Trabuco Canyon not only meant a tough run, but some tough off-road driving for my 2X4 truck just to get there.

I would like to make this post short, as mileage was under 15 miles.  Mountain runs . . . they are hard to make short because they are so beautiful. 

That is why I will mainly do a pictorial for today’s post.  But first I want to point out that this weekend is the one of a race that I wanted to run more than any all year.  I had it on my “For Sure” list.  Nanny Goat 24 Hour run began this morning and I was not at the start.  I pretty much dreamt about this race for months.  However, family commitments made this race impossible.  The sacrifice was difficult to swallow.  But I did this sacrifice knowing that it was best for me, and best for my family.  Actually, there was no choice.  I had to omit Nanny Goat from my race calendar.  Our oldest son is being confirmed tomorrow.  This is similar to a bar mitzvah (though not as triumphant) or a quinceanera to the Mexican culture. (To make a long story short, a Confirmation kind of represents a youth’s acceptance of certain religious doctrines – it includes a church ceremony and communion – to not attend due to a race would have been unacceptable in my eyes.)

Since I didn’t run Nanny Goat today through tomorrow, I was able to get in a Saddleback Mountain run this morning.  And that was truly glorious.  Truly. 

I took off up a lonely mountain.  I thought I was surely alone, when three miles in, three men came hiking down Holy Jim.   Somewhat armed, I couldn’t help but think, “Crap!”

Of course, I kept on running headstrong past the group, chatting with them along the way.  I learned that they took off at 2:00 AM for a hike to the peak.  With a full moon, I’m sure it was glorious.   I would love to do that.

Climbing up Holy Jim – the best thing about Holy Jim is that the climb is spread out over five miles.  The worst thing about Holy Jim is that it’s five miles long!:

Glorious Flora along the way:

Running Along The Main Divide:

Amped up to finally run downhill on West Horsethief:

Flora on Horsethief:

Trabuco Trail:

Only a tad of dirt in the end.

Mmmmm . . . Candy!

This morning I woke at the ridiculous hour of 4AM.  Why?  So that I could drive an hour into the mountains and run The Candy Store run as the sun rose.  The drive up the windy mountain was uneventful as car after car raced down in the opposite direction from Riverside county, to jobs in Orange County.  I parked in lower Blue Jay Campground.  Tents were erected through out the grounds, but not a person stirred.  It seemed also that not a creature stirred. 

I took off on the same rocky trail that we took off on in Old Goat 50.  The skies were cloudy.  And as I descended down the mountain, I heard child screams and laughter coming from a campground above.  I felt like I was making slow time, yet I felt good.  I didn’t tape my arches, nor did I roll my shins beforehand.  I wound down the trail and made the first point of interest (the Chiquito / San Juan intersection) in about 37 minutes.  I consider 45 minutes very decent time for me.  I didn’t want to care about time on this run.  I wanted to enjoy.  Still, I couldn’t help but celebrate a tad.

I continued on San Juan Trail, which was shady and lush, climbing up toward the Viejo Tie.  Ear phones dangling around my shoulder and not in my ears, I desired complete awareness of my surroundings.  The trails were desolate.  I was completely alone, except for what lurked out there in the forest.  I felt relieved when I hit exposed trail because I had a better grasp on my surroundings. 

Memories from Old Goat flooded my mind as I ran.  I recalled where I fell.  I recalled when I passed, when I was passed.  The Tie went by very quickly, especially compared to the first time I ran it.  Still, I felt like I moved slower than I did during Old Goat.  Yet, I made the Chiquito intersection in about 50 minutes (1 hour is VERY decent for me).  Again, I felt accomplished.  So relaxed was I, the trails’ technical difficulty didn’t throw me.

I ran in and out of shady lush forest, on overgrown single track for the next few miles.  My mind wandered to all the things I needed to do (grade papers, make calls, pay bills, organize, organize, organize).  I thought a lot about our dying friend.  I told myself, “Don’t think!  Don’t think!”  I found this quite difficult.  That is until I told myself to do just one thing today:  call the hospice.  With that one thing resolved, I was finally able to empty my mind.

  The Viejo Tie (Or San Juan Trail just before the split):

The poison oak on Chiquito was unavoidable.  Even though I have been immune to the plant’s poison, I’ve heard that immunity doesn’t last forever. I’ve run through the stuff head-to-toe before with no consequences (knock on wood!).  This morning, I occasionally stepped aside from a bush.  But then my thigh would brush against several leaves.  Eventually, I realized it was useless.  There was no escaping the plant.

Chiquito Trail (notice the poison oak on the forest floor):

“The Candy Store Run” is approximately twenty miles, mainly downhill from Blue Jay to The Candy Store, mainly uphill on the way back.    Beginning this run at The Candy Store rather than Blue Jay, is the much easier way to go because you run the harder part on strong legs.  Both ways are long.  Both ways are lovely.  But I wanted hard.  Excruciating in fact.  This is why I began on the mainly downhill for an uphill climb on tired legs. 

I passed Chiquito Falls still feeling strong, feeling like I’d make The Candy Store in under 3 hours.  Then a funny thing happened on the way to the store.  I saw another person running up from the other way.  He wore all black, just as I did.  He didn’t startle me.  I could distinguish that he was a trail runner by the two handhelds.  But who? 

Why, this other runner was my friend John H.!!  I laughed out loud.  I mean, what are the chances that I’d come across someone I know?  We stopped and chatted for a good amount of time, laughing over the things we put our trucks through and how we both stash water in the mountains.  We talked about Old Goat (John was a sweeper who swept my friend, Emmett).  As we chatted, he helped put my mind at ease over finishing a fifty miler.  John seems quite “laid back” about running, whereas I tend to tense up.  Anyway, I didn’t worry about making The Candy Store in under 3 hours anymore.  It’s not often I get to talk trails and laugh out in the middle of nowhere with a friend. 

But then, I was off running again; John was off running again as well, in opposite directions. 

Out portion of the run, it’s still cool enough for my long sleeves:

Views of The Cleveland National Forest on my way down:

A quick glimpse of the many spring flowers along the way:

Toward the end of the out portion, I came upon a couple hiking groups.  One man looked at me as though I was crazy.  Another gasped, “Running?”  At the giant fallen tree, decomposing for years, I began my climb up to the parking lot.  The sun was out in vengeance.  The climb was difficult.  I finally ran into the parking lot in over three hours.  Across the street, The Candy Store was probably still closed (unless they sell donuts for breakfast).  I didn’t run across the highway to check, though I do love candy.  Instead, I ran over to my water stash in the brush.  After refilling, I set out for the return trip beneath an unrelenting sun.

Running back on the San Juan Loop, toward Chiquito Trail for the climb up:

It came as no surprise that the climb back out toward Chiquito Falls was miserable.  But it was a lovely miserable.  I climbed over boulders.  I ran the uphills in the shade.  Sometimes on exposed trails, I hiked.  I passed more hikers, some in small groups, some with walking sticks. 

Excruciating is a great word for the back portion of this run.  Much of it, before Chiquito Falls, is exposed, hot and rocky.  Tiny gnats swarmed my face.  But despite this, I still felt good.  No major aches or pains.  At one point, about half way, I heard the pounding of fast running.  Disoriented some, I was startled, thinking someone was running up on me from behind.  Turns out, it was John.  He wasn’t behind me.  He was in front of me.  We spoke briefly as I stumbled up the boulders.  Except for the last climb up to the parking lot, he had mainly downhill to look forward to, whereas I was looking at several more uphill miles.  Doh!

A big rock on Chiquito:

A simple view of the climb out:

Sleeves off, it’s now HOT, and I’m greatly looking forward to San Juan Trail because that means I’ve only got a few miles to go:

I came upon cyclists on the way out.  I gave directions to a father and son.  I could have cut the course short on a few occasions.  But I decided to sweat it out.  A cool breeze blew through the trees.  And though I felt fatigued, and pretty miserable, it was the good kind of miserable.  Seriously.  There is a good kind of miserable – it’s the kind of miserable when a difficult, yet gorgeous run is nearly over. 

Today’s elevation profile:

From above: