Seven More Miles . . .

Sunday, March 3, I went long. I went long on Harding Truck Trail, which starts at Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary in Modjeska Canyon. I arrived fairly early, as those limited parking spaces fill up quickly, and took one of the two remain spots. It was just before 8:00 AM when I took off up Harding Truck Trail. Several other hikers took off behind me.

Though it was relatively early, it was not so for trail people. I met quite a few hikers and runners coming down as I made my way up that steep grade. Boy, is Harding Truck Trail steep. It’s not so technical, as it is a truck trail after all  (though actually closed to traffic). I found the trek up Harding very difficult, and actually ran very little of it. Once I passed the 5 mile mark (where Laurel Springs Trail branches off), I came up on very few people on Harding Truck Trail. Overall, the views were delightful – lots of spring flowers and above blue skies with white puffy and smeared clouds. The scene was serene.

My goal (or turnaround point) was “Four Corners,” which is where Harding meets Maple Springs and The Main Divide branching off in two directions. I will not lie and say that the climb up to “Four Corners” wasn’t tough. It was tough as hell. But then again, when do I ever say the climb wasn’t tough. IT IS ALWAYS tough for me. I kept the following in my mind on the way up – “at mile 7.5 you get a reprieve!” That’s when there’s a slight downhill, and then the climb after that isn’t so steep. Right about mile 7.5 I came across what appeared to be three brothers. I didn’t ask if they were related, but they all looked alike. There was a small, a medium and a large blonde haired boy, just like my three sons (though not blonde), but these guys also had a few years on mine. Anyway, I passed them, and kept in the back of my mind not to let them catch up (because I am weird that way).

Finally, FINALLY, after three hours and 45 minutes, I made it to 4 corners. There was one dirt bike rider who came up on The Main Divide. Other than that, I was alone until the three brothers arrived and carried on along The Main Divide. I probably stayed about 15 minutes drinking my protein shake, taking photographs and looking out onto Orange, Riverside and Orange Counties. I felt fully rested, and quite content.

As I made my way back down Harding Truck Trail, I came up on a semi-large hiking group that I had passed on my way up. It was like seeing old friends.

The run back down was uneventful for the first 2+ miles. Thing was, I didn’t focus well on the trail. Instead, I found myself thinking about work and other such worries. Okay, I know that I must focus, especially when fatigued on trails. You would think that I would have learned. But, NO! I let myself get lost in thought. Then with about 7 miles remaining, I tripped. And when I tripped, I went flying forward. I don’t know where my tuck and roll went, but apparently, it’s gone. Now, it’s just spaz-out free fall. And that’s just what I did.

I landed hard. And though I knew I was hurt, I knew that I did not hit my head, and I probably had not broken anything. But, my breathing out of control, I was certain to vomit. Oddly, I made my way to the edge of the trail so that I could vomit (because I thought it was polite to be neat about it). Leaning over a fallen log, I noticed the blood oozing from my leg. But all I really cared about was puking. Just as I started to dry-heave, I got some reason and focused on getting my breathing under control. I have no idea where that reason came from; I guess just from within. Slowly, so, so very slowly, my breaths lengthened, and I took in more oxygen. It was at that point that the nausea left me.

I could tell that my immediate injuries were to my right leg and palm. The injury to my palm looked terrible with ripped skin covering a small hole in my hand. I actually felt sore all over, but the visible injuries came from the aforementioned. “Seven miles,” that’s what I told myself. All I need to do is focus for seven miles. So, I wiped the blood off of my leg until that was moot – I mean, why wipe the blood when it doesn’t matter? It was just going to keep oozing until it was done, and I didn’t want to wait. And so, I swallowed three ibuprofen and took off trotting down Harding Truck Trail toward my truck parked at Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary.

Those last seven miles were bearable, with my main problem coming from my hand, and a part of my leg that was not bleeding (the right side of my front right calf). With about two miles remaining, I ran up on two lovely ladies who were hiking the trails now in afternoon heat. One of them noticed my leg, and made comments to the affect that I was a bad-ass for traversing the trails seven miles with my injury. That kind of praise always cracks me up (like when people were amazed that I made it two miles to my truck with a broken arm). I mean, what was I supposed to do? I am no bad-ass for running those miles with my injury. I did it because that’s what I had to do to get to my truck. I had no other options. Believe me, if I could have dialed in a helicopter (free of charge of course) to come pick me up, I would have surely done so.

Total trip miles: 18.84 miles (30.32 km)

Elevation gained: 3,666’ (1,117 m)

The Beautiful Modjeska

I shut off my early morning alarm ONCE AGAIN.  But all was no lost Sunday morning.  I threw caution into the wind and pulled my truck out of the driveway at 9:30 AM.  9:30 AM!  An hour later I was winding my way through a little town called Silverado, driving 25 miles per hour, onward to Maple Springs Road.  With the weather warming up, I feared I hadn’t packed enough fluids for an afternoon run and stopped by the only market in town for a Gatorade – just in case.  

At the trailhead, I continued on driving up a single lane road until the pavement ended.  Parking my truck beneath a tree in the woods, I headed up the dirt truck trail at approximately 10:40 AM.  The heat was sweltering, and quite frankly, I wondered how I was going to manage a mountain run.  With a cold Gatorade in hand and 72 fluid ounces on my back, I moved on as I always do – one foot in front of the other. 

I hoped that I could run up to Modjeksa Peak because I have this thing about summiting.  Love to summit.  If the weather grew too unbearable though, I gave myself an out, with a turnaround point at “Four Corners,” which is 4.25 miles up the dirt road called Maple Springs. 

Thank God for shade.  The first leg of my mountain run went well – I arrived to “Four Corners” having finished the Gatorade but without dipping into my hydration pack.  My leg “injury” did not cause a problem either.  I did experience a slight ache though, and took two ibuprofen since I decided to venture onward to the peak. 

I ran straight through “Four Corners,” where three off roaders parked.  And the gnats kicked in just as I turned onto The Main Divide.  With little or no shade and gnats flying at my face, the rocky terrain proved difficult.  But who am I kidding – this portion of The Main Divide is always difficult for me.  So, it was business as usual – one foot in front of the other.

At a little over 5.5 miles travelled, I turned the bend in The Main Divide for a view of two main peaks in The Santa Ana Mountains:  Modjeska and Santiago, the far ends of the saddle.  Wow.  I still daydream about it even a whole day later.  Setting my eyes on these peaks makes everything all better, the gnats, the heat, the rocks . . .  This is an emotional spot in the mountains for me – the scene of so many victories and agonies as well.  It’s what I see back home, the backdrop for most of my coastal runs.  

I turned off The Main Divide and trudged up the sort-of-single-track to Modjeska Peak.  No more cars or motorcycles.  I had this part of the mountain all to myself – except however for biting horseflies that took tiny chunks out of my arms and legs, oh and lest I forget, swarms of gnats hovering about my face, focusing on my mouth, nose, ears and eyes. 

Heading up to Modjeska:

The final ascent:

At last!

Polish actress, the beautiful Helena Modjeska, whom this peak was named after:

A mountain biker once told me about a short-cut coming off Modjeska Peak that takes you straight down to “Four Corners.”  I’ve looked for it, asked hikers and other bikers about the trail, to no avail.  That is until I ran The Harding Hustle last month. I  don’t recall whether it was during my first or second trip up to the peak that out of the corner of my eye I noticed a  “do-not-go-here” trail marking.  Do not go where? I thought.  There’s only one way to go.  And that’s when I saw it, a partially hidden, true-single-track disappearing down the side of the mountain. 

This Sunday, I sought out that trail on the way down from Modjeska.  The trail seemed so obvious now.  Still, I felt a little nervous.  Bike tracks relieved me some.  If a mountain bike could take the trail, then I could take it.  Hopefully.  A lot of short cuts are short because they take you down the face of a cliff or something ridiculous like that.  Determined to focus, I shut off my music.  But I kept the ear buds tucked into my ears else the growing number of gnats drill through to my brain.  I could hear them crashing up against the buds, desperate it seemed to hit gray matter. 

The trail was steep, so steep that in some points the ground merely slid beneath me as I attempted to run the terrain.  It’s been a long time since I’ve ventured onto new ground.  The views were immeasurable.  The trails were shady.  They were rocky.  And they were swarming with gnats.  Fortunately, my short cut didn’t take me down a cliff.   But because I ran an unbeaten path, I was extra careful not to fall.  My cautious gait was so slow, I wasn’t sure if this was going to be a “short cut” after all.  But soon, very soon, I caught “Four Corners” in my sight, and it seemed as if I had cut a mile and a half or so off my trip.

The “short-cut”:

Sure enough, this trail dumped me off right at “Four Corners,” on a portion of single track so steep, I sat and slid down it.  Oh ya!  Only 4.25 miles to go:

Where The Hell I’ve Been

I am still here.  But where the hell have I been?  That is a question I had to ask myself.  My answer:  I took a break.  And that’s the story I’m sticking with .  Not a real break, else I self-loathe into oblivion.  No, I took a mini-break, one filled with more rest that I usually allow myself.  And I’m glad I did.  Well, not really.  But I’m forcing myself to be glad.  I’m forcing myself to be content with what is.   

To recap:  I took some days off after The Hustle.  Four to be exact.  I figured that the rest would do me good, and that I’d be ready to run up a mountain. 

Note to self:  I cannot skip the recovery run. 

I should have taken my post race blues as a hint to at least hit the dirt for a few miles before attempting to run up a mountain. 

But, I didn’t.

I first set my feet to the dirt the Thursday after The Hustle where I met two girlfriends, Kelly and Sheila, in Silverado Canyon, about 3.5 miles past the Maple Springs trailhead.  I found the climb up tiring.  Quite slow.  And hot.

At about 4.25 miles, when we FINALLY reached “Four Corners,”  the ladies said that they wanted to put in another .75 miles for an even 5 miles.  I gladly stayed behind for some views.

I didn’t begin searching for my pals until a half hour had passed.  Unfortunately, I didn’t listen well (lesson:  listen!) when they told me which direction they would be travelling.  I searched to no avail, couldn’t even find their footprints.  Approaching an hour since our departure from each other, I began to REALLY worry.  I know these ladies.  I know their behavior on trails, and know that they don’t willy-nilly go off unexpectedly.  I felt for sure something had happened.  I thought to myself, “This is why I run alone!!”

And so, I ran back to “Four Corners,” from my search and in a calm panic, I walked around for a spot with cell-phone connection, and found enough bars to phone my husband.  He assured me that I probably mis-understood their intentions, that I should wait for them more, or slowly make my way back down the mountain.  As we spoke, I saw one of my friends making her way from a direction that I didn’t expect. 

The ladies had no idea how much time had passed and were profusely sorry for worrying me.  All was well that ended well.   I suppose I over-reacted in my worry. 

The next day, Friday (July 24), I took it easy with some ab work on my living room floor, as well as, upper body weights and burpees (both of which I hate). 

That first Saturday of my 2 week sabbatical (7/26/14), I spent some time at an air-conditioned gym about a mile away from my home with 5.23 miles on the elliptical crossramp and 4.34 miles on the adaptive motion trainer (AMT).  Afterward, I lay myself down on a bench for 400 crunches.  I finished off the gym session with fifty suspended leg lifts.  Back at home I managed ten burpees.  Yes, managed.

Sunday (7/27) was a day of rest with a mere ten burpees on the backyard lawn.  Really.  That’s all I could manage.

Monday, I just couldn’t bear getting out on the road, or the trails yet.  I was just too morose.  Instead, I found myself in an air-conditioned gym once again, where I plowed through 5.26 miles on the elliptical crossramp and 2.4 miles on the AMT.  I finished off this sabbatical gym session with upper and lower body weights, and then finally a mere 11 burpees at home on the backyard lawn. 

Tuesday (7/29), I managed to get in a little run by running out my front door during one hot and humid afternoon before my last teaching day this summer.  I ran alongside the beach, past the crowded campgrounds and to the southern city limits.  When the sidewalk ended, I turned around and ran back home.

Thursday (7/31), I made this sabbatical official with another trip to my air-conditioned gym. After trying four different elliptical crossramps, I found one in working condition and put in 5.14 miles.  I ended the session with a weight session – upper and lower body.

Friday, (8/1) was a true day of rest.  I spent this day of rest by dragging my three boys boys down to the corner where we caught a bus to Crystal Cove in Newport Coast.  It was a party bus of sort, and we were amused by the raucousness of its young passengers.  (One young lad was even kicked off the bus for smoking an E-cigarette).  After disembarking we hiked a bit inland (where I often run trails), then we turned back toward the beach for a trip beneath the highway to the sandy beaches there.   And we camped out here for a few hours before trekking back up to the highway, and caught another bus, and then another to be dropped off near home:

Saturday (8/2), when I was feeling that I had a long enough sabbatical, but didn’t mind extending it some, I found myself once again in my air-conditioned gym where I pushed through 5.33 miles on the elliptical crossramp, 5.12 miles on the AMT, a good session of upper and lower body weights, 350 crunches on the bench and 50 suspended leg lifts.

And then finally, on Sunday, today (8/3) I pursued my last day of this sabbatical with another session in my air-conditioned gym.  Miles recorded:  5.23 on the elliptical crossramp and 2.41 miles on the AMT.

Well then, there -- Sabbatical ended.

This is where the hell I’ve been.  I’m happy about it (and I’m sticking with that story )

Okay, then . . . am I crazy?

Breakfast at “Four Corners”

I got my once-a-week-mountain-run in this morning bright and early.  Well, not that early.  I started off up Maple Springs at 7:00 AM.  Still, I was the only one on the road for some time.  The weather was cool.  The skies were blue.  All ideal for a time in the mountains.  I originally decided to set out for an eighteen mile loop often referred to as “The Silverado Loop.”  It gets really nasty after mile 8 due to HOT, exposed, uphill trails.  But a mile into my loop, the battery on my garmin died.  Doh!!!  I didn’t want to make that trip without my security blanket, my sweet, sweet garmin.  So I began stashing my extra water as I made my way up Maple Springs for a fifteen mile out-and-back instead.

I saw a couple of these little guys along the way:

I didn’t run up that mountain quickly at all.  In fact, I met a two hikers again and again on my giant switch-back, as they made their way straight up the mountain, bushwhacking their way.  I didn’t stress over my inability to pick up my feet any quicker however.  I enjoyed the the lush mountainsides and little creatures along the way. 

I arrived at “Four Corners” quicker than I figured I would.  And I thought to myself, “I can do the loop.  I can, I can!!”  But alas, I had already stashed my extra water on Maple Springs.  I didn’t dare make my trip across the “desert” without reserves.  “Four Corners,” by the way, is a junction of four trails: 1) Maple Springs, the trail that I came up, originating in Silverado Canyon, 2) Harding Truck Trail, a 9 mile uphill battle beginning in Modjeska Canyon, 3) The Main Divide heading north (I think) and 4) The Main Divide heading off toward Modjeska and Santiago Peaks.

View from “Four Corners”:

My breakfast at “Four Corners”:

In all I travelled fifteen miles during this wonderful mountain out-and-back.  The back was all downhill, with plenty of wishes at my disposal along the way.

Day 26

Rain began to pour down well before midnight Friday.  Still, I set my alarm for an early morning wake time, hoping to get in a mountain run Saturday.  Wind howled throughout the night as rain pounded down upon our roof.  At times, it sounded like our roof was being ripped apart.  6AM my alarm rang out.  I reached for the floor and picked up my phone while focusing my hearing on the outside world.  Eventually I could hear that the rain still poured down.  I went back to sleep.  7AM, I woke again and nudged my husband.  “Is it still raining?” I asked.  “It’s pouring,” he said.  And so back to sleep I fell.

I didn’t wake fully until 9AM when my dog awoke me as she ran about the yard and barked.  The wind was still howling.  My youngest son was awake in the “Man Cave,” (Our video game/terrarium room).  I called in the doggie and caught a glimpse of the skies.  Surprisingly, even as the wind howled ferociously, the skies were blue and bright.  Perhaps I can run today, I thought.

I did not get into my truck until 10:45AM.  I had no choice but to run in the mountains (that is, if I wanted trails).  Yay!!!  After the rains, all trails in the lowlands (the coastal hills and foothills) are closed.  I picked a route that was quick so that I would get home at a decent hour.  Still, my drive time was over an hour.  I did not park my truck on Maple Springs Road until 12:00PM. 

When I set off running up Maple Springs Road in Silverado Canyon, the air was cold, the skies were blue with puffy clouds that casted giant shadows on the terrain below.  I had a lovely uphill run to “Four Corners.”  Occasionally, I needed to run up the trail side to avoid a large puddle.  Off-roaders and dirt bikers also passed me on the way up.  Some stopped to chat with me, oddly curious as to why I was running up this mountain.  It doesn’t seem so odd to me that someone would run up a mountain.  It also doesn’t seem that odd that someone would drive up a rocky dirt road.  Just being in the mountains high above the cities, seems reason enough to endure whatever it takes to get there.

I reached “Four Corners” feeling comfortable.  And so I headed off for some extra mileage toward Bald Peak.  Of course, the run to Bald Peak was longer than it looked from afar.  And it was more uphill.  But, I can do uphill, right?  Yup.  I can.  Especially if it means I can add in some power hiking, which I gladly did.  From Bald Peak I took some photos, then headed back for the long downhill trip to my truck.

Views from Bald Peak:

I made excellent time (for me) on my trip back down.  I felt strong, even on the rocky terrain.  I was able to hop over the gulley’s left by the rains.  I was able to quicken my pace with just a thought.  I felt satisfied with my progress when I finally reached my truck.

10.71 miles run (17.24 km).  Day 26 complete!