Pigtail Weather

July 8, on a Wednesday afternoon, I decided to head out to Laguna Wilderness and Crystal Cove for a change of scenery. Wow, those trails are hot out there, and virtually all of them completely exposed. Pigtail weather is definitely upon us here on the southern California coast. Long hair covering my neck, even if in a single ponytail, is not a good match with hiking in the middle of July, even on the coast. Normally, I just might cut my hair shorter to get it off the back of my neck. COVID19 makes that a little difficult. And so, I’m growing it out for now. Old as I am, I revert back to the hairstyle of my youth.

July 8 returned a wonderful 11 mile loop. And I got to dip my toes in the ocean which is the very best thing about these trails in Crystal Cove State Park  (video). I got some good elevation gain too (1,677’) – all of it on the way out! My preference, if I haven’t stated it before (& I’m sure that I have 100 times), is to do the climbing on the way in, not on the way out. This is why I don’t often do what I call the El Moro Loop. Once in a while though, especially during pigtail weather, I like to get out and do this spectacular loop over above the Pacific Ocean.

I finished up this hike with a delightfully cool ocean breeze at precisely 7:45 pm. I remember because I had just 15 minutes to make it back home to watch The 100 on television with my fifteen year old son. I had to take the toll road to come close (cost: $6.75). I made it home at 8:05 pm dirty and tired and not at all resenting the huge climb out of El Moro Loop. Summer evenings on the coast will do that to you – it will make everything shine with a better light even when your hike included a climb out!

El Moro Loop (From Ridge Park: No Name Ridge to No-Dogs to ranger station to the Pacific Ocean. From Pacific Ocean back toward El Moro Cyn, but after bridge quick right onto BFI (Big Friggin’ Incline) to El Moro Ridge to Bommer Ridge back to Ridge Park.

Notice the Climb Out!

 

Emerald Canyon

Saturday I got back out for some trails in Laguna Wilderness.  Still not running, though I did run a couple of hills on this trip.  And I kept the cast splint off again, as even though I cannot straighten my arm yet, I really need to be able to swing it some.  With the cast, swinging is difficult but with it tightly wrapped I can get some movement in. 

I started off on Bommer Ridge and made it to my favorite ridge in this area, Moro Ridge with its gorgeous 180 degree ocean views.  But this time, instead of taking Moro Ridge to the end, I took an unmarked single track to my left after travelling the ridge for about a mile. 

This unmarked single track was a lovely piece of work with lots of rocks and a clear shot of Emerald Canyon, which I have not ventured to in years.   At times the trail got so steep and technical that I got down on my behind and scooted down.  I just cannot risk falling right now. 

This unmarked single track dumped out smack in the middle of Emerald Canyon, right near a bridge that I have never seen before.  Apparently, it was built about two years ago (according to a trail runner I came up on). It is a bridge to nowhere as this trail runner put it.  And indeed it is, but a gorgeous single track to nowhere.  You see, Emerald Canyon trail abruptly ends at a giant chain-link fence with an exclusive Laguna Beach neighborhood on the other side.

For the trip back, (which was a five mile uphill trek), I decided to take Old Emerald Falls, an old favorite of mine, which winds through a giant meadow and up another rocky single track to Moro Ridge.  From there, I hopped onto Missing Link, which I regretted with its constant ups and downs (I was dang tired).  But, thankfully, that little detour ended up cutting my trek short by about a half a mile.  I was ready for a nap!

Back on the Trail

For days after falling on Trabuco Trail, I had trouble falling to sleep. My mind kept returning to the moment of impact.  It seemed that just as I dozed off to sleep, I’d trip and fly into the floor, which jolted me awake.  I have not been having a great time.  Frazzled is a good word to describe my condition. 

And then we had our Christmas celebrations (Christmas Eve services, a family get-together on Christmas day), and everything came to a close.  Though I was happy to have spent an entire day with much of my family (my own children and husband, plus my parents, my sister and her family, and two of my brothers and famlies), I did not rest easy last night.  I had nightmares it seemed all night long – same theme, I was being attacked.  It was the same person that I could not see from my dream the morning of my trail accident.  I never saw him in my nightmares last night (or rather early this morning) as he always attacked in dark places, and then eventually, he started attacking me in my dreams.  Yes in my dreams, like Freddie Krueger did in those horror fliks.  Needless to say, I got little sleep, as every time I fell back to sleep it seemed that he was there to grab me. I woke the entire house with a loud scream and eventually decided I just didn’t want to risk falling back asleep again.  At 3:30 AM I surfed the internet until I couldn’t stay awake any longer.  And then I slept like a rock until 8:00AM. 

With such a big day yesterday, being Christmas Day, everyone was still sound asleep when I snuck out the door at 9:30 AM and headed for Ridge Park in Newport Beach.  The weather was cold, and the wind was fierce. I had to grip the steering wheel to avoid being pushed all over the tollroad.

When I arrived to Ridge Park, I realized that I had forgotten my jacket, and by the looks of all the runners and bikers bundled up in their jackets, beanies and gloves, I was gonna need more warmth.  Thank goodness my oldest son left his jacket in the backseat.  I was able to layer up.  (Note to self: don’t be such a hard-ass about the boys getting their things out of my truck!)

I hiked 10.56 miles with gorgeous ocean views.  My casted arm gave me little trouble, even without pain medication.  And actually, I was totally fine hiking this whole loop, as opposed to running.  Because, if there’s any chance of me doing Calico (and those chances are slim, slim, slim), I had better not re-injure the arm.  I even tripped once while hiking this loop, so I’m gonna hold off running for at least another week. (My next doctor’s appointment isn’t until January 4). 

Anyway, the park was super crowded with people, mainly hikers, some runners, some cyclists and some equestrians.  I think it’s good for now to go where people can be found.  I only found discomfort during the last three miles, and that was because I took off the jacket.  Since I had decided not to wear my sling (though I packed it), the jacket had provided much rest for my arm by putting my hand into the pocket. 

I felt good at the end of the hike, and probably could have pushed myself a lot harder. I was not even fatigued when it was over.  I think what’s most important though, was that I just got out there and moved. 

Route: Bommer Ridge, El Moro Ridge, BFI, No-Dogs, No-Name, Bommer Ridge.

Sleeping it Off

I still have not recovered from my illness.  And I take full credit for that.  I have not been eating right, nor have I been sleeping right.  Much is going on, lots good, some not good at all.  Personal life is good.  It’s the professional life that has been of concern.  (More on that later . . . if I get around to it – hopefully, I will never get around to it, but instead will bask in the greatness of family and friends and oh yes, lest I forget . . . trails).

This past weekend, I had hoped to get in some mountain trails.  I think that it’s good that I did not.  I really need to get well.  Sleep, I believe is such a good cure-all for illness (and other things too).  So, I decided to take a bit of that medicine both days this past weekend.  Saturday, slept in and hit the gym later in the afternoon.  Sunday, slept in, and drove through downtown Laguna Beach around 10AM headed for Crystal Cove / Laguna Wilderness. 

I don’t like to run coastal hills on the weekends.  Why?  Two words:  mountain bikers.  Too many of them race irresponsibly fast on the local trails.  Sorry.  It’s the truth.  All a runner has to do is trip and fall in their path, and they are dead.  Seriously.  It’s that bad. 

I was not disappointed on Sunday in Laguna Wilderness.  Bikers raced along Bommer Ridge like there was no tomorrow – and there were no apologies.  Feeling so annoyed at one point, I really wanted to take a fist full of dirt and throw it in a biker’s face.  Of course, I would never do that.  But I thought it.  Is that bad?

Thankfully, I turned off onto Moro Ridge, which was lonely, and oh so lovely, occasionally encountering a hiker or five, and hikers are always oh so polite.  Love them. 

Moro Ridge:

From Moro Ridge, I took East Cut-Away for a fast, truck-trail run into Moro Canyon.  And once in Moro Canyon, I couldn’t help but run to the seashore for some sand stepping. 

I really am a lucky lady. 

And Chimera is just around the corner.  Can’t wait!!!

Miles run:  11

Elevation gained:  1,450’

Marijuana Bust

Friday I got out by noon and drove along the toll road for a run in Crystal Cove and Laguna Wilderness.  I had forgotten that nearly every time I run there I think I will never return.  Why?  Because so dang little shade.  Somehow, I always find my way back, and smack in the middle of a summer afternoon.

I arrived to Ridge Park, the hills in Irvine/Newport that overlook Newport Coast, amidst loud and chaotic excitement.  A couple helicopters flew above dumping marijuana plants onto a pile in the middle of the road.  Police vehicles and news vans crowded the streets.  To top it off, spectators drove in and out of the one opened area, laughing and talking, excited about the smell of marijuana in the air. 

The marijuana fragrance was strong and stayed with me for a while on the dry hot trails.  I ran right through the commotion, thinking that law enforcement would stop me.  They didn’t, but I did notice a news camera following with its lens, and I thought, “FUDGE!  I don’t want to be on the news.”  (I didn’t quite use the word “fudge.”)

It wasn’t long before I was away from all the commotion.  I saw very few runners or hikers on the trails.  Understandably.  It was just too hot.  I wondered how on earth farmers were able to grow illegal crops in this mostly brown, exposed wilderness area.  How did they water the approximate 4,000 plants.  How were they going to harvest without being detected? 

I arrived at the bottom taking No-Name Ridge and No-Dogs a little overheated.  I decided to take El Moro Canyon back up to Bommer Ridge (the shorter choice), scratching my original plans to run past the canyon and straight up to Moro Ridge.  I’m not sure the canyon route was the best choice.  I felt like I was running in an oven.  On a ridge I would have at least experienced a breeze.  

No-Name Ridge:

No-Dogs Trail:

Making my way through the canyon & stopping in the first bit of shade:

Much needed shade (& this was about all of it):

With about a quarter mile left before reaching Bommer Ridge, I konked out.  Light headed, I needed to cool off my body temperature.  It appeared that I let heat exhaustion overcome me once again.  Dang it.  Sitting in the shade, I took in a nice breeze and it seemed my temperature cooled quickly.  After about ten minutes, I finally got to my feet and slowly ran the additional 1.5 miles to the truck. 

Recuperating, waiting or my temperature to drop:

Oh!  And I was on the news – a Spanish language station.  A running friend, Conrado, took a picture of his television as I ran across the screen, and sent it to me via facebook.

Rolling Ridges

I felt at a loss where to run this morning.  I’ve had too much of Aliso/Wood Canyons, its shady groves, spring flowers, creek crossings and wretched climbs and descents to and from the ridge.  I’ve had about enough of Arroyo Trabuco trail too, with its multitude of creek crossings, lush groves and relatively flat terrain.  This morning it was, “Ho hum, where do I run?”

I suspect hubby could tell that I was approaching the door to the blues.  I’m guessing that’s why he handed over his debit card and said, “Get some gas and go run in the mountains.”  I took it in a heartbeat (I have yet to get the bank to get my own debit card).  But then I took so long getting out of the house, I opted for something entirely different – a run in Crystal Cove and Laguna wilderness.  This time though, I didn’t pay the exorbitant cost of the toll road.  I took the long way and drove through Laguna Beach. 

Wonderful Laguna Beach. 

Many, many years ago, before our three boys were born, I drove every day through Laguna Beach to get to my job in Irvine.  Oh, how I longed to be one of those wanderers strolling along the boulevard as I drove bumper-to-bumper, puffing cigarette smoke out the open window of my Toyota Corolla.  The Greeter, the original greeter, an endearing old man, stood on a corner and waved at me every single day as I drove by.  He waved at everyone.  For years.   And years. 

This morning as I drove though this town, I couldn’t help delight in the idea that I am one of those wanderers now (not exactly how I imagined, but I am).  The greeter is no longer on this earth.  But a larger than life statue stands on the road replicating his wave.  In front of that statue, stood another man this morning.  He wore a red coat as he waved at the drivers moving along Highway One.  Sure, he wasn’t the original.  But he put a smile on my face, just as the original greeter had so many times. 

Oh ya!  Lest I forget . . . I ran today.   I made a three-ridge loop (with a connector trail along the way).  Though I was still tired from yesterday, I enjoyed every perspire of sweat.

First, I ran along Bommer Ridge, high about the Pacific Ocean.  It’s a mainly downhill ridge, rolling though, with some up’s. 

Bommer Ridge:

After Bommer Ridge, I hopped onto El Moro Ridge.  It’s more rolling than Bommer, and heads directly toward the ocean.  I spied many coyote and bobcat tracks.  I explored the campgrounds.  And I stopped to photo this green meadow:

El Moro Ridge:

From El Moro Ridge, I took B.F.I., which stand’s for Big F’ing Incline.  For me it was all down hill.  I stopped for at bit at the WWII bunker.  Ate my snack there as I gazed down at the Pacific.  Then I was off again, headed for the BIG rolling climb up No-Name Ridge.

View from B.F.I. bunker:

I took no pictures (prisoners?) from No-Name Ridge.  I found the climb quite taxing.  I ran when I could.  When the ascents were too steep, I practiced my power hiking.  In all, I covered 9.82 miles on this loop.  And as usual, I believe I’m better for it. 

The Cost of Trail Running

Day 25 of my Fitness Streak, it appears I’m getting my running legs back.  Right now, I’m darn near ready to crash and sleep.  My lids are so heavy, I’m not even sure what I’m typing.

I decided for a change of scenery this morning and headed off to Newport Coast.  I took the toll road and made an effort to look at the toll cost as I drove through the sensor.  One way cost me $6.75.  Yikes!  Double that for the entire trip and that’s a good chunk to add to the cost of today’s trail run.  This hardly fazed me.  I learned early on, that despite my initial thoughts, running is not free – especially trail running.  Seems like I’m constantly forking out cash for small ticket items and large – fuel (like gels, bars), electrolytes, hats, sunglasses, athletic tape, pack, pack essentials like pepper spray, etc., etc.  The cost is worth it though – what I get in return is priceless.  

At about mile 3, heading down to the ocean:

A quick stop at the beach:

Heading back up El Moro Canyon back to Bommer Ridge to complete today’s loop:

9.67 miles of happy times: