Climbing Out

I know I have probably written it before, but I’ll say it again -- climbing out is hell. My preference is to do the elevation gain first (or even midway). Saving the climb for the end of a hike, run or hike-run is simply brutal for me. It is almost never fun. But in the end, the relief of it being over is so overwhelming, it makes it all worthwhile.

This particular route, a ten miler beginning and ending Laguna Wilderness with Crystal Cove Park picking up the mid part of the loop, starts off with nice and easy rolling hills. There was a few miles of this along Boomer Ridge, and then a few more along Moro Ridge. These first five miles or so were really lovely, with most of it sharing full ocean views. I saw my first rattler of the season during this portion. Then at 5.57 miles in I was finally at sea level, and the climb out began. Whew. Those last four and a half miles were a bear. My pace was a steady slow. Not slow run. Slow hike. And being that I’ve travelled up many long and steep inclines before, I grabbed onto the mantra, “This too shall pass.” And so, with one step in front of the other, over, and over and over again, I was back at my truck, feeling refreshed and not terribly beat up. And as I mentioned earlier, relieved!

April 7, 2018, 10.01 miles, 1,382’ elevation gain

Should Have Turned Back!

I went out for 16 trail miles late this morning.  I was READY.  I had my fluids, my calories.  Hubby was going to pick up the boys from school.  Opting for something semi-different today, I decided on El Moro (the coastal hills in Newport Beach).  Unfamiliar with the trail mileage there, I had only a general plan in mind. 

I ran along a lonely, sunny Bommer Ridge, hopeful for a nice fulfilling run.  I admired the Top of the World across Laguna Canyon.  I looked at Santiago Peak wistfully.  Then I decided to tune-in and look into El Moro Canyon.  That’s when I realized I had missed my trail.  So I turned around and took the first unmarked trail down into Emerald Canyon.  I thought Old Emerald was unmarked, though I wasn’t sure.  But this sure seemed like Old Emerald . . . AT FIRST. 

The trail grew tighter and steeper. And I began to think I had taken the wrong trail.  I broke my own rule concerning situations like this.   I should have turned back.  Oh how I should have turned back. 

Running down what I thought was Old Emerald Trail:

It grew so steep, I slipped and fell.  I had to scoot down over large boulders.  The brush grew thicker  and I found myself sliding, face forward.  And when I landed on my behind, sticks and small branches slipped beneath my shorts and underwear and stabbed my bear butt.  Ouch.

And then I found myself boxed in.  I really, really should have hiked back up to the ridge.  But I was so worn out, I just couldn’t do it.  Big mistake. I followed all forks to discover the brush impenetrable.  Eventually, I spied a trail through the thickness, a trail that I recognized as Emerald Falls (Or maybe it’s called Emerald Canyon).  Either way, it’s a portion of the trail that has been closed for a couple years, so destroyed it was by massive rains.  If only I could get to this trail I could get back on track.  But a large ravine with ten foot walls separated me from this trail, not to mention, massive brush growth. 

I

I managed my way into the ravine, falling of course.  I popped up right away and scoured the area, left and right for a way up to the other side.  There was absolutely NO WAY up.  But I did notice a tree in the distance growing next to the edge.  Holding my handheld with my teeth, I grabbed a branch with both arms, pulled myself up  and climbed the trunk with my legs.  I sat in v-section for a bit to gather my wits.  Then I scooted from the tree to the bank’s edge.  Really.  No lie. 

Popping up after my slide-fall-run into the ravine:

My tree:

Yup, sitting in the tree (got to document it all! : )

Now on the the other side, I’ll tell you – I STILL SHOULD HAVE TURNED BACK.  I was stuck in the midst of a tight thicket.  A thin, thorny vine wrapped me like a cocoon.  “Push through it,” I told myself.  “Push.”  Everything time I tried to break through, the vines tightened and tore at my skin and clothing.  I thought about reaching into the back of my pack to see if I packed my knife.  But I was growing so weary, I didn’t think I could reach back.  I used my hat to push down some of the brush on my right side.  Then struggling, I lifted my right leg high and stomped down on the brush.  I did the same with my left side, and continued on this way until I finally made it to the trail.  I was beat. 

The trails won today.  I don’t usually consider myself playing against the trails.  I play with the trails.  But there are those days like today . . . when I should have turned back!

“Get me the heck home,” was all I could think.  My legs were bloody and scratched.  Welts covered my arms and legs as well.  I wanted so badly to madly sob.  But I really just didn’t have the energy.  The only thing I had the energy to do was run.  I kicked up my feet and ran back up to the ridge and all the way back to my truck, for a total of 8 miles today. 

I’ve been “out of sorts” all day.  Why, why, why, do I break my own rules?  I thought I learned in Texas when I got lost, that I need to turn back and go the same way I came AS SOON AS I REALIZE I’M OFF-TRACK.

It’s not just trail running . . . IT’S AN ADVENTURE!

Finally making it to the trail:

A last glimpse at Santiago Peak:

Just about a mile left:

Too Much Data

Have you ever been talking on the cell phone, while at the same time looking for your cell phone?  I have. 

My sister told me that she once used the landline to call her cell because she couldn’t find it.  Then she ran and answered the cell, “Hello?  Hello?”

I was once telling my friend how I left my keys in the car ignition when I went grocery shopping.  The entire produce section was looking for my keys, because I WAS SURE that I had them in my hands while looking at apples.  My friend told me – that’s nothing!  Then he confessed that when he went golfing he had to go back to his car because he thought he left his keys in them.  Not only did he find his keys in the ignition.  But he car was still running!!!

Are we getting old?  Everyone gets old (and really we’re not THAT old).  Even if we were, I don’t think that’s the culprit here.  I think there’s just too much to think about.  Too much data. 

At least for my brain.

No, this blog is not going where you think it is.  I’m not going to talk about all the high tech shoes and running equipment, and how we have to keep track of our pace, elevation, etc. . .   I’m simply going to say that I took a nice thirteen mile run this morning.  My last run before the storm that’s supposed to come in tomorrow. 

Anyway, I dumped lots and lots of data running trails today.  It was beautiful. 

As I ran down “No-Name,” I felt extremely thirsty.  Lately, I’ve been running with handhelds, and with nothing in my hands this morning, I kind of felt to myself (I didn’t really think words, because I was in NO THINKING MODE this morning), “I can’t wait to get to the ranger station.”  (There’s a drinking fountain there.)  This is how it is in NO THINKING MODE.  I mean, didn’t it dawn on me that it was pretty odd that I didn’t carry water on a ten plus mile run?  Then some voice penetrated through the wall and said, “Ah . . . Lauren, you have 64 fluid ounces on your back.”  I laughed and laughed as I drank up.

And then I ran in the moment for the next thirteen miles.

And now for the pictures of a tranquil trail run in El Moro:

The route:

Running down No-Name Trail toward the Pacific Ocean:

Crossing bridge to run up El Moro Canyon:

El Moro Canyon:

Old Emerald Falls Trail:

About to ascend Old Emerald Trail:

A nice hearty climb on Old Emerald:

Approaching top of Old Emerald:

Running back to reality on Bommer Ridge:

Miles run:  13.61 (21.90 km)

Lackadaisical Run

We got rain in Southern California the past two days.  Enough rain to close local trails.  Of course I could have probably run mountain trails, but there’s no one to run with me on weekdays.  And I don’t run mountains alone.  Why? 

Mountain lions. 

And those two legged coyotes (as my husband calls them).

Rain was fine with me, though I’m not a big fan of rain.  I live in Southern California!  But I wanted to cut back on miles this week anyway.  I cross trained instead, and did my short speed workout on the treadmill. 

This morning, the sun shined brightly.  I checked local trail websites to find that they were all open.  Deciding on a venue change, I opted to drive many miles past my usual park to the Newport Coast to El Moro Ridge (which I believe the is part of Laguna Wilderness Park and the bottom is Crystal Cove State Park – I’m not sure on the boundaries.)  (For those of you who know this area, I ran down No-Name Ridge to No-Dogs, then past the ranger station and back up El Moro Canyon where I hopped onto a portion of Missing Link, then ran all of Fence Line to Bommer Ridge.)

I picked a lovely day to run  trails lackadaisically.  Having been wet for 2 days, then dried up today, the amount of animal tracks were astounding – lots of deer, bobcat and coyote, not to mention bird tracks and other miscellaneous tiny tracks that I didn’t stop to identify.   

With my speed training, I found that I took off at a quicker pace with little warm up needed this morning.  And when I found myself plodding along on the inclines, I thought to myself, “I can run faster than this.”  And I could.

But on to the pictures:

Running No-Name Ridge, I encountered lots of friendly hikers, all with walking sticks:

A quick pose on No-Name, I was so, so ready to rip off this long-sleeved shirt despite the cool breeze.  But I wanted to wait until the bottom where I would make a pit stop at the ranger station:

Running along No-Name:

Approaching the Crystal Cove ranger station, notice white water in the distance:

Heading up El Moro Canyon, this lovely shrub lines the trail.  I can’t i.d. it.  Do you know what this plant is?  Let me know!

Fungi growing along the lush, wet parts of canyon:

Just plain ole’ beauty running up El Moro Canyon where a doe dashed out from the brush in front of me, then another and then one more.  They hopped (yes hopped!) across the trail so quickly and back into the brush on the other side, that though I fumbled for my camera, I was not quick enough to catch a picture:

More El Moro Canyon.  It was nice to run a trail where every tree is new to me:

Toward the end of the canyon, I had three options to the top – Nice-and-Easy (which isn’t exactly easy, but it is very runnable), Elevator and El Moro Canyon.  Here is the intersection of Elevator and El Moro.  I had not run either one before.  Guess which one is Elevator?  It’s not the trail on the right!  I took the trail on the right for a more direct route to Missing Link:

Oh my!  I don’t know why this trail wasn’t named “Elevator.”  I was actually slipping back down the hill as I went up.  But I was able to run some of it:

A look back.  Curious what Elevator was doing, I went to the edge, “and there I stood and looked down, you know I lost a lot of friends there baby, ain’t got no time to mess around.”  Not!  I haven’t lost a lot of friends there (but can you tell me the name of that song?  I’ll give a small prize for the first person who can.)  Anyway, I did go to the edge so that I could see Elevator, and saw a meandering trail going up – Nothing like this one:

Fence Line Trail:

Miles run this morning:  9.02:

9-11 Run through Laguna Coast

The weather was cool and cloudy for a peaceful run on this day of remembrance.  Three runners met early this morning at Ridge Park for a lovely run through the Laguna Coast. 

 The Serious Pose (Me, Sheila, Marcus)

The Silly Pose (I don’t really know how to do silly – I’ll work on it)

We took off down Bommer Ridge, then up Bommer Ridge to Old Emerald Trail.  I felt stronger than I have in a while.  So glad to again to have my groove back.  Sheila called the route as we made our way down Old Emerald Trail.  I’m so unfamiliar with this park that I could easily get turned around.  I pretty much know just one thing:  down, down, down is the Pacific Ocean.  But as far as which way is the direction back to the cars, besides up, I couldn’t tell ya on a cloudy, misty morning like today.

The views were enormous, and even when the sun did come out, it paid us little attention, then disappeared.  Soon my sunglasses were back upon my head as we continued down that delightful single-track, Old Emerald.  I don’t think I’ve ever run down Old Emerald Trail – seems I would have recognized it.  You can be sure I’m going back. 

Speaking of going back, from the bottom of Old Emerald Trail, we began our run back.  We ran up Old Emerald Falls Trail (which I have run down a couple times) and then ran Fence Line.  Last time I ran Fence Line, I was pretty miserable with an infected toe and aching hip.  Today: Different story.  What a difference a day makes (or rather many days).  From Fence Line we caught Bommer Ridge Trail which we ran back to the top as a couple dozen hikers made their way down into the misty, cool park.

Most likely Old Emerald Trail

 

 

 

 

6.88 Miles Run today : )  Great Company, No aching hip, No heat exhaustion and Relative Ease!  That makes for a great run.