Eight Miles In

Monday, June 20, I put myself on a schedule, written out the night before on a steno pad that I always have with me (except when I’m wandering). I really needed to do this – without a schedule I have no structure in my day. I get things done whenever I feel like it, which sometimes means never.  Without structure, I am nowhere near as productive as I desire. In fact, without structure, it seems every aspect of my life (mental health, nutrition, sleep, exercise) suffers. So, from 8:30 am to 1:30 pm yesterday, as per my schedule, I answered students’ emails and troubleshooted a couple student projects, did several household chores, chatted over the phone with my oldest son (not on the schedule) and then shot over to the closest grocery store to pick up vanilla ice cream for the blackberry pie my middle son had baked the night before. (The blackberries were fresh, picked from a bush in my backyard.)

This structure came just in time. I could tell that my mood was declining the longer I held off. After my five hour block of work, I scheduled a hike that was obviously long overdue. The state of everything (and I mean everything, but in particular: COVID19, politics, unrest, etc.) was really weighing on me. And I felt  particularly down after reading details in the news about some recent murders, one in New Jersey, the others in Florida. I should never read the details in cases like these. The details haunt me. Haunt. Me. When I finally set out into Aliso Canyon for the Big Loop a little after 3 pm I was trying to shake the haunting images of what I had read. I guess if I could pick only one word to describe what I was feeling it was this: fearful. I was able to drift in and out of this funk as I strolled through Aliso Canyon and its brown summer glory. But I kept returning to a place where my thoughts were dark.

Hiking, running, wandering always gives me peace. Sometimes that peace is immediate -- I feel it with my first step. Other times, it takes a few more steps, sometimes a mile, sometimes two. This sense of peace that I talk about is not necessarily a feeling of “happiness”. It is more a feeling of weights being lifted off my shoulders, a feeling of acceptance and perhaps hope coupled with a joyful kind of lightheartedness all at once. I feel like I can breathe easier and think clearer with this peace. It’s the whole goal.

At about three miles in, I sat on The Rock in Wood Canyon, just past Wood Creek Trail to break my fast with some cheese and beef sticks. After another mile of winding trail beneath a shady forest canopy, I took the steep incline up to the ridge chatting with my mother over the phone. And then I hiked much of West Ridge listening to a Youtube interview.  All of this was wonderful for my soul: food then grinding out Cholla Trail  while talking to my mom, which made the difficult work much easier, toping it off with a hopeful interview overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

My Breakfast @ 4:30 pm

View of Saddleback Mountains from West Ridge in Laguna Beach

I barely saw anyone in the canyons on the way out – one or two cyclists and a couple runners. West Ridge had one or two hikers as well until I neared the Top of the World at Alta Laguna Park. By then we were well into evening with a cool ocean breeze. It was no wonder that the top was crowded with people either taking in the views or heading out for evening hikes. Practically everyone was masked. But as crowded as the place was, we were all easily able to keep our distance.

The playground was taped off in the park, but the restrooms (real restrooms with sinks, soap and running water, a luxury I don’t often have on hikes) were thankfully open. As I hightailed it out of the park into the neighborhoods (finishing up about 7.5 miles), more and more cars pulled into the park emptying people with masked faces headed out on their evening strolls. 

I left everyone behind and marched across the lovely neighborhood that runs along the ridge so that I could re-enter the park in Aliso Canyon. It was during that portion, right around eight miles in that peace finally arrived with all of its gifts. Eight miles in. And at about 8.5 miles in, I came up on these guys grazing on the hillsides and began my trek down Meadows trail:

Perfect Timing (nearing end of Meadows Trail, about 2 miles out from my truck):