The Headlands

Two huge things happened in my life during this pandemic, and neither of them have anything to do with the pandemic. But if it wasn’t for the pandemic, I would have been able to deal with these two huge things in the way that I was able (and I thank God for that).

Because of the pandemic I found myself teaching remotely. Therefore, I was able to live in the hospital for ten days when my youngest son became critically ill last summer (God Bless Miller Children's Hospital!) And then there’s the after-hospital stuff that I am able to manage because of the great flexibility that comes with teaching remotely. In addition to this, my oldest son, who studied in Washington, DC his last semester in college, decided to make a go at it out there. And so, I spent another 10 days away from home, visiting him in his new home (oh the joy! seriously, one of my greatest seasons!), which would have not been possible without the pandemic.

Wow. I just don’t know what to say about this. I’m a little awestruck. This is not to say that working remotely has run smoothly. Nope. Can’t say that. I was extremely behind in my prep when I returned from the East Coast – heck, who am I fooling? I wasn’t only behind in my prep. I was behind in EVERYTHING. I was behind in getting my taxes filed (alas, I made it by the extended deadline!), I was behind in my reading, in my emails, and I was behind in my writing (I’m also taking a creative writing class taught by long time friend and college professor of my Freshman Comp class way back when, and it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve submitted – also btw, this enriching class  wouldn’t have been possible without the pandemic.)

I am certainly not grateful for the pandemic – my God, what I’ve seen in the past year I would have never predicted in my youth. I am really just grateful that during this pandemic I was given so much grace.

While, I’ve been scrambling to catch up on everything, I did get in two quick hikes in my hometown, in an area that we call The Headlands. I’ve been hiking the Headlands since I first relocated from LA county (Covina) in 1988. We discovered it pretty quickly, the beach bums that we were in our 1 bedroom apartment across the street from the Pacific Ocean. The Headlands is an area in between the Dana Point Harbor/Marine Institute and Dana Strands beach.

On the first of my two hikes since returning from the other coast, I took my youngest son hiking – the one who was dropping ten pounds a month and couldn’t move without pain last summer – and showed him one of my favorite secret places in town, which of course is in that little spot called The Headlands. What makes this hike so terrific, is that you must wade through the ocean to complete it. If you make a loop of it, you only wade through the ocean once. An out-and-back of course means two times into the ocean. Now, wading through the ocean could mean knee deep or or could mean thigh deep. Any higher, I would advise against the hike. On this day, my youngest and I made a loop back to my truck parked at the Marine Institute, totaling about 4 miles.  (Since then he’s gone back often, returning home with details of the area that I’ve never noticed. Now, I’ve got to plant the seed about seeking God’s face in the secret place . . . in time, because right now he’s going to laugh in my face. .)

But how can he deny the existence of God with scenes like this?
First of 2 hikes. 4 mile loop around The Headlands
(Around April 20, can’t be sure of date, because I’m still out-of-sorts)

At a about .75 of a mile, the trail ends, and you must make a sharp right turn and walk through this cave:

And when you come out on the other end of the above cave, you are here, which is the area we must wade through to get to the other side. Timing is key. I like to wade out to a large boulder, stand on it so that I feel grounded, and wait until the tide goes out. That’s when I drop down into the water and make haste around the corner where I can stumble upon the boulders back up to dry land. Sometimes, but not on this particular hike, the waves rush in sooner than I can get to dry land. I’ve done it so many times since 1988 that I know to find solid ground and brace myself (preferably with some arm strength up against the cliff wall) and wait until the waves rush back out before continuing on:

This is the area that most casual day trippers don’t get to because of the “wading” I described above:

Hike 2 around the Headlands (out and back, approx. 2.5 miles)
Mother’s Day 2021

Soon after returning back from the East Coast, my oldest flew to the West Coast to walk his graduation ceremony. One of the things he did on his short trip here was take a hike around The Headlands with his youngest brother, his father, and his mother (me) on Mother’s Day. Yes, we raised our three boys in a beach cottage (which means a tiny home) but as a consolation prize, this was out our front door -- even on a cloudy, eerie looking day, it’s awesome:

Yes, I am behind on pretty much everything. But I feel more peace than I have in a long time.

This Week

Woe is me who can hardly find time to get in runs nowadays.  This week I managed to get in three runs, and I am grateful for that.  Still, I need more miles.  I want more trails

Run #1, Trabuco Creek Trail (in San Juan Capistrano) to Arroyo Trabuco (in Mission Viejo) 6.0 mile (9.66 km) out-and-back:

I call these trails “urban” trails, as I could hear traffic whizzing by along Camino Capistrano and graffiti dressed the walls as I ran beneath eight lanes of traffic travelling along Interstate 5. 

I crossed Trabuco Creek beneath the train tracks where I saw these high school students walking down to the creek.  I half expected them to pull out a joint, or at the least a pack of cigarettes.  Instead, they took fishing poles out from their packs. 

Run #2, Aliso Creek Trail to Wood Canyon, up Cave Rock Trail, back to Wood Canyon, Dripping Cave Trail, Mathis, Oak Grove, and then up the big incline called Car Wreck Trail, back to Mathis Trail, West Ridge to Top of the World, Meadows, back to Aliso Creek Trail, 9.33 mile (15.02 km) loop:

I got out late as usual, as I have little time for household chores and must tend to them first when I have spare moments.  As such, the weather was warm, and I overdressed because (hark!) it still is winter. 

I stopped by my favorite places in Aliso / Wood Canyons, such as Cave Rock, Dripping Cave and even Car Wreck Trail.  Of course, my loop included Top of the World for a quick view of the lovely Pacific. 

Everything was green and beautiful. 

Run #3, ran inland from my house so that I could catch the bike trail down to Monarch Beach, to Salt Creek Beach, Dana Strands (AKA The Strands), up to The Headlands, and Highway One back home, 8.45 mile (13.6 km) loop:

Got out late (3PM) for once again some winter heat.    Fortunately, I got some of that coastal breeze that keep so many coming back.  I had really hoped to get in at least fifteen miles for my last run of this week.  That was not possible – there were clothes to wash, bags to pack, floors and dishes to wash and toilets to scrub today.  I let the dream of fifteen miles flitter away and enjoyed half the miles anyway.

And they were difficult.  I think the main reason for my struggle was the winter warmth, and the fact that I set off toward the end of the day.  Regardless, I am better for it. 

Here’s the funny thing about run #3:  according to my garmin, the elevation gain was 1,238’.  I find this absolutely amazing, especially since I only reached a maximum elevation of 350’.  There were lots of ups and downs, I suppose.  And they add up.  (I have not scrutinized the graph below to figure out whether Garmin got the total gain correct). 

After The Rain

Southern California finally got some rain.  Two days of rain!  And we didn’t drown. And we didn’t flow away.  After the rains, I got two days in a row of running. Not two WHOLE days, but some hours worth, (while struggling, suffering way too early from fatigue).  Still I got, two glorious days, plodding one foot  in front of the other, as fast as I could muster.

Day One:  Three Beaches

We have five beaches (or 6 or 7, depending how you count) in my town.  Three of those beaches, the northern beaches, are adjoined along one long sandy strip, providing a nice 2+ mile stretch to get your feet moving:  Monarch Beach, Salt Creek and Dana Strands (AKA The Strands).  I decided early on Thursday, after getting the boys all off to school, that I would run the northern beaches, as all my coastal trails were closed due to “wet and muddy conditions.” 

I parked on Camino Del Avion, and ran down the bike trail to Salt Creek State Beach.   It’s over a mile along that bike path that runs adjacent to Monarch Links, a golf course with green belt views and memories of our early life in The O.C.  My husband and I lived on the other side of this golf course, across the street from Salt Creek Beach for our first ten years here.  It was easy living back then, though we didn’t know it.  We should have known it – I mean, come on, though we both worked 40+ hour weeks, and I was working on my bachelor’s degree for some of those years, evenings consisted of walks on a lonely beach, and solo dips in the community pool.  Weekends, well  . . . after laying around in our sun-drenched living room, we’d pack up our back packs, and head down to the beach for the entire day – THE ENTIRE DAY.  Hubby would fish in the surf, catching the nights’ dinner.  I’d write letters on pink stationary, write in my journal, read a novel, or better yet, work on my novel.  Occasionally, we’d jot off to the headlands, which seemed so far away (but is only about .75 of a mile away according to Thursday’s garmin recording).  Back then, we didn’t head back up to our apartment until nearly every beach-goer had gone home.  I’m not gonna say, “Those were the days,” because I wasn’t a runner then (I was a roller blader, a swimmer, a jazzersizer and OMG a smoker!), so I was missing out on a bunch – but they were wonderful days nonetheless. 

So there I was this past Thursday, trotting (yes trotting) back down to the beaches that I spent so many countless hours in the early years of my history in The O.C.  I wasn’t missing those days.  They just occasionally kissed my mind as I took in new times on these same beaches – this time, approaching 50 years old, with three sons and a wild-crazy home, downtown in the same beach resort. 

As soon as my feet hit the sand on Salt Creek Beach, I took a right and headed toward Monarch Beach.  Problem with the recent rains – Monarch Creek flowed heavily into the ocean.  There was no hopping this without getting my feet wet.

With my heart intent on running Monarch, I took a seat in the sand.  There were few people on the beach – a thong-bikini clad lady ran barefoot along the sand.   A gentleman did pushups up by the dirt trail.  I unlaced my shoes, shoved my socks inside and not so gingerly trudged across Monarch Creek.  My feet sank into the wet sand, as my mind relished the cool rushing water. 

On the other side of the creek I was free!  Free to conquer the remainder of Monarch Beach.  Birds barely flinched as I trotted up on them barefoot in the sand. 

I did some boulder “running” to practice for Calico which is about a month away.  These rocks however, unlike the ones that don’t seem to move in the desert, wobbled like teeter-totters when I pounced on them.  I only fell once – it was a hard solid fall, with the ground giving no resistance.  I pushed myself back to my feet happily unscathed. 

The rocks along Monarch Beach:

After Monarch, I ran back across the creek (taking my shoes off again), ran along Salt Creek, and then The Strands.  I stopped when I hit The Headlands where I photographed some sea anemones and watched the waves crash up on the rocks. 

7.25 miles

Day Two: Mentally Sensitive / Mathis Loop

The coastal trails in Aliso/Wood Canyons opened back up on Friday.  Grudgingly, I had to come to terms with a nagging ankle problem that I believe is not really an ankle problem, but a heel problem.  My hunch is that the stiffness and low-level pain that I’ve been denying is related to my on-going plantar fasciitis.   Frequent calve stretching along Aliso Creek Trail alleviated the situation within about the first mile (which further points to a plantar fasciitis problem).

Anyway, the trails were muddy, and my climb up Mentally Sensitive proved quite strenuous.  I worked up quite a sweat, as I slid back three feet for practically every foot of progress (fun!). 

In all, I covered 10.7 miles, with 1,274’ of elevation gain.  Felt good.  And I was tired.

Mission Unaccomplished

First mission unaccomplished was my original plan to wake at the crack of dawn and go for a mountain run.  I did wake at the crack of dawn (actually before dawn).  I could not however, walk due to the pain in my foot.  I pushed myself from wall to wall to move about the house.  Even though I knew my foot would probably get better (it’s always the worst when I wake), this disheartened trail runner went back to sleep.

I woke again several hours later feeling way, way down in the dumps.

I didn’t have a good morning.

I didn’t have a great early afternoon.

Eventually, I laced up my shoes and ran out the door for a run along some of our beaches.  Yes, that’s right.  I opted for sidewalk and sand over dirt trails.  I felt a bit sluggish but enjoyed my time running the city streets.  One thing I noticed was that it was LOUD with all sorts of noises:  car motors, people talking, dogs barking.  But it was also beautiful.  I live in a gorgeous city.

 Beach Access:

Even though I see the Pacific Ocean every day, catching first glimpse of white water at Salt Creek Beach on my run this afternoon was breathtaking. 

After running Salt Creek’s crowded sand, I turned the corner for a run along Dana Strands.  Off in the distance I focused on the headlands, Dana Point’s famous headlands.  I’ve run on top of them, I’ve near and around them on both sides.  But it’s been a long, long time since I’ve gone around them.  It’s a daunting task, and probably shouldn’t be done alone.  The rocks are steep and jagged, and the way is very slippery.  On the plus side, there’s a private little beach where I could get my quiet solitude that I missed from trails.  I was game and a little giddy about it!  The tide seemed low enough to make it.  And I figured I’d be okay because I’d climb carefully and would certainly turn back if the tide was too high.

The Headlands:

Making my way along the base, prepared and confident for my first climb:

The First Big Climb (not so difficult, but slippery and a fall could mean a plunge into the ocean):

After making that first climb, this is where I stood – absolute bliss:

The front base of the headlands was numerous with tide pools as I remembered.  Occasionally, a wave crashed up on the plateau as I made my way across.  The work was difficult, as I needed to use both lower and upper body strength to make my way up and down the sharp boulders. 

With a water bottle in one hand, I clicked the camera in my other.  My private beach was now in view when I stopped for a few last pictures before descending down the plateau’s rocky edge.  I jumped that last step, as it was too far down to reach.  When I landed I took another step (I think) and then I don’t know what happened.  I remember realizing that I was losing my balance, and then I went down, down as in tumbled down over the sharp, jagged rocks.  My knee, my arm, my shin, they all took terrible hits.  Then on the last tumble, I flew right down into a gigantic tide pool.  I went under, fully submerged, taking my camera and phone with me and a big gulp of salt water. 

In utter disbelief, I quickly jumped out.  I stood there with my sopping wet camera in my hand and cried.  Blood streamed from a gash in my right shin.  My right knee as well ached with a minor scrape revealing itself right away.  And my right arm, specifically my elbow was bleeding.  I was most worried about my camera.

Okay, take control, Lauren.  That’s what I told myself.  I stopped crying and decided that I should not continue the journey.  I chose to carefully make my way back and call my husband for a ride home.  That is what I did.  Back at home, he cleaned me up, disinfected beneath the torn pieces of flesh on my elbow and arm. 

I didn’t break any bones.  I have worn my right arm in a sling all night.  The arm is swollen and ugly.  Ibuprofen did wonders.  So did a warm blanket.

These were two of the questions I got from my family:

My husband asked, “Were you scared?”  Funny, that’s one thing I wasn’t.  I never felt scared.  I felt surprised.  I felt sad.  And I felt angry.  And then finally relief.  But I never felt scared (too stupid to be scared ).

My middle son asked, “Did you almost drown?”  No, I didn’t come anywhere near drowning.  Even the gulp of seawater that I took in didn’t take my breath away.  Thank God I didn’t hit my head.  If I knocked myself out, there could have been much more dire consequences. 

Well, there you have it.  My missions unaccomplished today.  I did get in a 6.25 mile run.  So that is good.  My husband rescued me.  And that was good.  And I seemingly haven’t broken anything, and that is good.

Here’s one last picture, probably the last one I took.  Off in the distance is the private beach where I wanted to take in some silence.  My fall occurred probably about twenty five feet from my position.  It is beautiful, don’t you think?