With Focus, But Without Fear

If I had remembered our recent big rains, I would have jumped out of bed this morning to head for the mountains.  Instead, I woke groggy, sorely tempted to call off today’s run, or at the very least, postpone it to later in the day.  As it was, two of my boys are spending the night away.  I wanted to be back from my run before they left.  And so, I set off preparing for my mountain run at 5:00 AM.  (It wasn’t 5 minutes later that I felt fully awake).

I’ll cut to the most important aspects of today’s run along my 14 mile loop.  First off, the wind strongly blew in and out of the canyon in long, cool bursts.  The sound of it rustling through the trees was delightful and moved me onward nearly effortlessly.  Also, the water roared along Trabuco Creek, which was brim full (well, not actually brim, but a heck of a lot fuller than bone-dry, like it’s been for so long).  It was all very fair-tale like.  I didn’t really begin to “feel” the run until I got out of this forest and headed up the giant switchback named Holy Jim.

The five mile trip up Holy Jim was peaceful.  It was cool.  And the time flew by after a fellow adventurer caught up with me from behind.  (Mark, whom I have met before – once on The Main Divide on my way to Santiago Peak, and the first time many years ago, in my house at my oldest son’s five-year-old birthday party).  Today, I marched up much of Holy Jim exchanging fun (often hilarious) wilderness stories with Mark.  It’s amazing to me how the major themes among endurance runners/hikers are so similar among us (injury stories, getting lost, encounters – so much fun to learn). 

We continued on at the same pace on the Main Divide.  Just before reaching Santiago Peak, Mark took off ahead to close up the same loop that I was running – Holy Jim/West Horsthief.  I didn’t see him again after that.  But I did see his footprints.  That’s something I notice nowadays – footprints – mine and others.  (More than once I’ve needed to rely on footprints to find my way back).

 The Main Divide Overlooking Lake Matthews:

Running alone down West Horsethief, I came upon two or three groups of hikers struggling up that wretched climb. I also fell not once, BUT THREE TIMES during the rockiest portions.  Each fall was more like a slow motion slip.  Each time, I landed on my rear.  And each time, I fell at the exact moment where I grew timid and slowed on the rocks.    The best way to traverse down tricky hills is with tiny steps and loosely.  Loosely is the key for me – I must run West Horsethief carefree, with focus, but without fear.  Actually, this plan will work best for any trail. 

Happy trails. 

Today’s route:  Holy Jim/The Main Divide/West Horsethief, Trabuco.  14.06 miles.  Weekly goal of 45 miles:  Achieved!

Real or a Dream?

Some time ago, I can’t remember when, I heard about some remnants of a mining company that used to be located in Trabuco Canyon.  I completely forgot about it.  Then some time later, I can’t even remember when, perhaps a month ago, maybe 6, while driving through Trabuco Canyon, I caught a glimpse of stone ruins in the canyon wall.  Perhaps I was in a hurry, probably having just finished up a run.  I don’t recall.  But I never saw the ruins again.  Not that I looked for them.  I kind of thought I didn’t really see them.  I actually wondered if perhaps, I was dreaming, and no such ruins existed. 

Now it may seem odd that I might not be clear on whether something was a dream.  Believe me.  I have a vivid dream life.  I dream every night, and recall lots.  Often I need to think twice whether something was real or a dream.  Still, this morning, I decided to go for a run in search of the mining company.  Imaginary or real ruins, I wanted to know.

I drove the first three miles into the canyon.  I parked next to another parked car and set off up the canyon road with a warm wind blowing against my face.  I really had no idea where these ruins would stand, except for the fact that I knew they were after the 3 mile mark.  At least they were in my dream.  

I ran up the lonely canyon road, hair blowing in my face:

My eyes scoured the canyon wall to my left, and when I reached the Holy Jim Fire Department, I knew that I had either missed them, or the ruins did not exist.  In the Holy Jim lot, I ran down to the creek to wash my hands.  The creek was still, like a dark piece of glass reflecting the barren winter forest:

Off through the trees, I spied the two cabins that I read recently had burned to the ground.  It was a sad sight.  And it still smelled of smoldering fire:

Exploring the fire remains renewed my interest in searching out the mining company.  Careful to kick out the back and not drag my feet, I concentrated even harder on the canyon walls on my trip back.    I stopped for anything that looked unusual.  I did spot something deep within the trees.  After some bushwhacking and heavy stomping through foot deep leaf litter, I came upon this tree house:

Yes, I considered climbing up into this tree house, but moved onward instead, keeping on track with my original plans.  The brush grew thicker and the scratches on my legs multiplied when I decided to cross the creek back to the canyon road. 

Continuing to run, I found another spot to cross the creek:

I tromped through more brush and leaf litter when I eventually came upon a small foot path.  I ran that for a bit.  It took me up into a clearing, and off to the side, there they were!  The retaining walls of what looked like a three story building.  I worked up a good sweat confirming that these ruins were real and that I did not see them in my dreams.  

Passage way from first floor to second:

Looking down from third floor:

View from 3rd floor:

I LOVE it when I search out something in the wilderness and find it.  Turns out I found the remains of The Santa Ana Tin Mining Company (incorporated in 1901).  Funny thing, I located a road right out of there directly to the canyon road when I left.  Even funnier, directly across the creek, standing on the canyon road, I could not see even a hint of these ruins. 

Fun day running. (4.75 miles logged)

Split Shift

I drove to the trailhead under darkness.  The last five miles is off road and took 30 minutes to drive.  I waited for the sky to lighten before venturing out of the truck.  I was ready.  I was ready to run up the mountain.  A ranger drove up just as I made my first steps.  He told me that they had a dozen rescues over the weekend.  I’m so glad one of those wasn’t for me.

A half mile into my run up Holy Jim gnats swarmed my face.  “Embrace the gnats,” I told myself.  That’s what I always tell myself.  And it works. 

Embrace the gnats!

As the forest thickened, the gnats doubled, tripled.  I breathed them up my nose.  They flew into my ears.  And they flew behind my glasses and into my eyes.  I swiped at them just so that I could breathe freely.  Then I changed my plan.  I’d just run up to the top of Holy Jim and come back (as opposed to running to the peak). 

Those tiny flies were relentless!  They followed me even when I ran higher up the trail.  Soon, my ability to embrace the gnats disappeared. 

At about mile two a bee stung my head.  I must have taken off my hat at one point, then put it back on over a bee.  Well, I didn’t know for sure if the sting came from a bee or a hornet.  A bee only stings once, a hornet can sting again and again.  You can understand why I wanted that thing off my head in a hurry.  I tore my hat off and grasped at the flying insect that was tangled in my hair.  I pulled at it again and again until I finally loosened the thing.  And I flung it to the ground.  (I couldn’t find it, but I think it was a bee).  Well, I had enough of this.  I turned around and ran back to the truck for a total of a 4.12 mile run. 

Second Shift

About 3:30 PM I took off in my truck headed for trails in San Juan Capistrano that run alongside Trabuco Creek.  I do believe, can’t be sure, but I’m pretty positive that when I ran this trail last June or July, I said that I would NEVER run this trail in the summer again.

For good reason!  Arroyo Trabuco trail was hot as hell today.

Yay!  Some shade:

Though a tiny portion of the trail looked like this --

Most of the time the trail looked like this --

And most of the time, I looked like this – utterly miserable:

I managed to run 8.28 miles in the afternoon with a split shift total of 12.40 miles.  The best thing about today’s runs was that I was running (oh, and that I didn’t die). Other than that, they pretty much sucked (excuse my language).  I’m ready for summer to end.

Palm Sunday Run

I was fortunate enough to spend all of my morning and some of my afternoon running trails in the Saddleback Mountains this Palm Sunday. This week the ultra running world lost a legendary runner. I didn't know him, never met him, but today I dedicate this run to Micah True, whose body was found on New Mexico trails yesterday. R.I.P. Caballo Blanco.

I began my morning running up Holy Jim Trail which used to be a terrible trail.  It’s still the same trail.  But now, I can run all of it.  That’s a huge deal for me.  It’s no longer terrible.  It’s a beautiful joy.  Really!

A couple hikers kept their pace up ahead of me, amazingly fast.  They marched in such perfect unison, I had to ask, “Are you in the service?”  They (a young man and woman) told me that they were training for a Mount McKinley hike this summer.  No wonder they were wearing hiking boots, long pants and sleeves.  I would never go up Holy Jim in pants unless I was preparing for something warmer in the summer – even then, I’m not sure I would do it.

As customary, I broke my run into segments.  Just get through one segment at a time, that’s my motto.  Holy Jim was my first segment.  And though I took it running at a relaxed pace, I conquered it feeling good.

Creek crossing leading to Holy Jim trailhead:

Approaching final creek crossing going up Holy Jim:

Sun coming up over the other side Trabuco Canyon:

The Fastest Hikers in The World up ahead (notice towers from Santiago Peak on the skyline):

One of the many reasons I love Holy Jim:

I knew the trip up the Main Divide to Santiago Peak would be difficult.  Knowing makes a world of difference.  Knowing equals no stress.  The Fastest Hikers in the World took off toward Upper Holy Jim, so I was quite surprised as I neared the peak, I looked back and saw that I had passed them by a pretty good distance.  Several motorcyclists drove past me on their way to the top.  I wasn’t too annoyed that I had to step to the side and stop to let them pass. 

I could hear lots of noise as I approached the towers at Santiago Peak, humming machinery noise and something much louder.  It sounded like dozens of people hammering on metal.  This didn’t seem odd to me.  I merely figured that people were working at the towers this morning.

When I got there, no workers were in sight.  But the incessant hammering and clamoring grew louder.  Clang, clang, clang surrounded me as I focused in on my surroundings.  That’s when I saw it.  Dozens, if not hundreds of icicles were melting and slipping off of the towers.  They were as long as swords, plummeting probably 30/40 feet to the ground.  As these ice daggers fell, they crashed onto parts of the towers below, making that loud  clanging noise, finally hitting the ground in several pieces the size of icebox ice cubes. 

Well, I stood there for a while, wondering how I would get to the edge for a county view without getting hit by a falling chunk of ice.  After watching carefully (and in awe) I noticed that most of the ice fell within the parameters of the fences surrounding each of the towers.  So I put my hand on my head and ran.  I figured that it would be better if an ice chunk hit my hand than my head.   

I made it to the edge to talk to a couple of motorcyclists.  I wish I would have taken their pictures.  One of the gentlemen was so extremely happy to be there he lightened my mood immensely.  It was he who took my camera and snapped the geeky photo of me below. 

The Main Divide on the way to Santiago Peak:

Gorgeous views from The Main Divide:

The towers at Santiago Peak (AKA Talking Peak):

Geeked-out:

As I ran back to The Main Divide, I ran past the Fastest Hikers in the World who were sitting at the summit.  I ran up to them and we chatted a bit.  I told them about Joplin Trail and pointed it out in the distance.  They seemed excited to try it out.  I saw several hikers making their way up The Main Divide as I ran down it.  Motorcyclists also passed going up and down, as well as mountain bikers.  I spoke with one guy who I would later see a couple times much later in the run. 

Clouds completely covered the mountain as I ran down Upper Holy Jim Trail.  My views were simply pure white, misty skies.  At this point in the run, though physically I felt I could go on forever, my brain could not.  I began losing the mental battle.

Running down Upper Holy Jim:

This run was taking way too long and I thought along the way that I might cut it short a little by running down Horsethief instead of Trabuco.  As soon as I got cell service, I phoned my husband with how I may alter my route.  (He did not like that I was running the mountains alone, so I had written out my route before I left). 

As I mentioned earlier, my body felt strong.  My mind did not.  It felt bored.  It took in the majestic views, but my mind tired of putting one foot in front of the other, again and again, mainly uphill.  Over and over I thought West Horsethief was just around the corner, and if it was, I thought, “I can make it to the top of Trabuco no problem.”  But it wasn’t just around the corner!

Well!  By the time I FINALLY made West Horsethief, there was NO WAY I was running all the way to the Trabuco Trailhead.  Instead, I trotted down West Horsethief for a shortcut to Trabuco Trail.  I passed the cyclist I met by the peak.  He was walking his bike up.  I told him that he picked a tough trail to go up, to which he responded that he had a race in a week.  Funny, I have a race in two weeks – and by this time in my run, I thought I was going to be in BIG trouble come that race.

View from Main Divide of Orange County and The Pacific Ocean:

More than ready to descend upon Horsethief:

Trabuco trail was the longest run EVER today.  Beautiful yes.  Never-ending, also YES.  The high point was giving a hiker directions to West Horsethief.  I love giving trail directions to people.  Anyway, I ran and ran and ran.  I ran over rock, I ran across a couple creek crossings.  I ran on shady, soft lush trails, and then back upon boulders and rocks. 

I was so done.  My confidence dwindled regarding my ability to complete the SJ50k.  It’s not that my body tired, oddly, it didn’t.  This may be hard to understand, especially since I’m not sure how to explain it.  But it was as if my brain grew extremely tired.  Dead-Dog tired.