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:

Harding Hustle 50k

I never really thought that I had it in me to run The Harding Hustle.  I was never going to even try.  This was the race that I worked, not ran.  It was too hot.  It was too steep.  And I would have to summit not once, but THREE times. 

That is, until 2014 when I registered for this race.  A momentary lapse of reason, I suppose.  I wanted to use this as a training run. 

I woke at 3:30 AM, left my house at 4:00 AM, arrived in Modjeska Canyon at 4:30.  I took off up Harding Truck Trail at 5:00 AM.  I elected an early start with two other runners, one of them my friend Emmett Rahl.  At the start line, Emmett gave me a laminated pace sheet with cut-offs, and pacing for a 7:30 finish and a 10:00 finish.  Considering that I doubted that I could even finish this race, I hoped for the longer finish.  On the backside, he had printed a group photo of my three sons and husband. 

Early on in the dark, I turned my ankle going up that mountain, but not terribly.  But, I have to admit that I thought to myself, “I really wouldn’t be that upset if I twisted my ankle.”  I had about thirty-one miles to go at that point.  An unbearable thought, so much so, that I didn’t think about it.  I just plodded one foot in front of the other.

I considered the  first “leg” of this 50k the almost entirely uphill trip along Harding Truck Trail.  It measures about 9.3 miles.  The first mile is the worst mile.  And it doesn’t ease up until about mile 6.5.  At that point, the road levels out some, and there’s even a slight down hill.  Only slight.  Normally, it takes me about 3:15 to make that nine mile trip.  Yes that long!  I am excruciatingly slow during that first leg.  Quite amazingly, I made the trip on Saturday in under 3 hours, something like 2:50.  To make matters quite pleasurable, the skies were cloudy and the breeze was cool. 

Trying to catch Emmett (which I never did) going up Harding:

Views from Harding TT:

First Leg complete:

The second leg of this 50k was the trip up to Modjeska Peak, which measures about 3 miles.  Also entirely uphill, there’s quite a few rocky portions which I found more than annoying.  But the views were so gorgeous and the breeze was still so cool, there was no getting me down, even as numerous regular starters began passing me. 

I found great solace in seeing a few runners that I know as I ran up to Modjeska Peak.  One of my running friends, Randall Tolosa,  manned the post at Modjeska where I turned around and ran back down for the third leg of this 50k. 

On The Main Divide onward to Modjeska Peak:

Shoe Tying at Modjeska Peak:

Coming off Modjeska Peak:

The third leg of this race entailed running down Modjeska into the saddle and up to Santiago Peak – a trip totaling about 3.5 miles.  Somewhere in the third leg, I met a reader of my blog (thanks for saying Hi and telling me you read Laurenontherun!!!).  Running down into the saddle I teared up, as I knew at this point I was truly committed to the 50K.  I was on my way to Santiago Peak, and there would be no turning back for a 30k race.  It was a finish or a DNF for me – just as I wanted.  I took out my phone and texted my husband, “in the saddle.” 

I found the third leg tiring and hiked a bit of that switchback up to “Talking Towers,” (AKA Santiago Peak).   Some of the runners powered up to the peak, others walked for more strength later.  I saw Emmett as he came back down, and he shouted out words of encouragement, as he knew all about my doubts.  I looked at my family’s picture quite a few times and smiled wide.  And I used the pace sheet to move me on quicker.  So far, I was coming in with times under the 10:00 finish, and well above the cut offs for the race.  I felt fine.  I was enjoying this adventure.  And even more amazingly, I kept the demons at-bay.  There was no negative self-talk, no “I suck,” or “Who am I kidding?”   It was more, “Look how beautiful that is!”  or “I am so lucky that the breeze is cool today.”

I meet several other runners at Santiago Peak, and familiar faces working the aid station.  I took a little more time at this peak, filling my hydration pack and talking a bit with the other runners.  I took off for leg four well within the race cut-off times.

The fourth leg was back to into the saddle and back up Modjeska Peak.  I teared up again in the saddle, this time because I knew that I would probably finish this race.  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” I warned myself.  Still, I felt confident.  I texted my husband, “back in the saddle.”

At the base of Modjeska Peak, I found myself weary of making that climb again.  You could have shot me at that point and I probably would have been fine with that.  I REALLY didn’t want to summit again.  But I drudged up that switch-back alongside the other runners who dragged along with me.  I noticed one guy sit down to rest as I finally quite happily made my way back down for the 5th leg back to Harding Truck Trail.  Keeping a foothold on that rocky terrain was difficult.   

Back in the Saddle:

I left the Maple Springs aid station for the final leg of this 50k at about ten minutes past the pacing for a 10:00 finish.  I felt fine with that.  But I had energy still, and I had run this 9.3 downhill on many occasions.  I knew that I could run it quicker than I thought that I could.  And so I took off with the intent of a 12 minute mile all the way down.  I did very well, felt strong, met other runners.  I was going back and forth with another runner who looked familiar.  He finally caught me again with about 6 miles to go, and we ran side-by-side silently for a bit.  So I pushed a little harder when he finally said, “Gosh Lauren, put down the hammer!” 

Ha!  Turns out we kind of knew each other.  He remembered me from working Chimera.  He said that I helped him at the Holy Jim Aid.  I remembered him as Jeff Higgins from Old Goat 50.  He was the guy behind me with encouraging words at the end of the race.  Well, he finally said that he couldn’t keep up and I raced off ahead of him gaining more speed as I crashed down the mountain (though I passed him, he finished with a better time, about fifteen minutes quicker because I started earlier).  It was great to see Jeff again.  And it was a booster to pass him. 

With less than 5 miles remaining, I stopped one last time, at the Laurel Springs aid station.  My eyes stung from salt dripping off my head.  So, I took the time to drench my bandana and washed out my eyes.  Then I draped the wet bandana over my head and headed down Harding Truck Trail.  I continued to pass other runners down that mountain who would beat me in overall time.  But it still felt good to finally pass runners.  I ran that last leg, the 9.3 rocky mainly downhill miles in less than 2:15.  My best from prior runs was 2:30. 

I am happy to report that I finished The Harding Hustle 50k.  It wasn’t quick.  In fact, it was slow.  But I did it.  I wasn’t pulled.  I didn’t fall.  I didn’t lose all my strength.  I never went into the dark side.  I kept my wits about me.  My garmin time was 9:25:41.  The race’s clock time had me at 9:27.  I’ll take it.  I finished.  And I am so, so, so grateful for that!

Less than 5 miles left:

Tres Dias Mas

I’ve added three more days to my Easter streak, but time is so short, I’ve had little time to contemplate on them. 

Day 19:  I got out late, though I did manage to get in a beloved mountain run.  I drove to Silverado Canyon, and then Maple Springs Road to where the asphalt ends.  It’s a single lane road, that is, not one lane each way.  No, it’s one lane period.  Carefully I drove that road even as eager as I was to finally hit dirt.  And hit dirt I finally did.  I ran up hill on Maple Springs for 4.5 miles.   A mountain biker passed me as he rode downhill and exclaimed, “You’re Awesome.”  Wow.  I never feel awesome.  I should re-state that.  I feel awesome, meaning, I immensely enjoy where I’m at and what I’m doing.  But as a person, measuring my accomplishments, I don’t think I’m awesome one bit.  In fact, I constantly fall miles short.  I am a classic low self-esteem person.  So, when this cyclist hollered this out to me, I felt blessed.  I thought, “How nice he is, and how neat that I am a recipient of his niceness.”  

From “Four Corners,” I turned the bend in the rocky road and headed up toward Modjeska peak for 1.5 additional uphill miles.  I only made it to the point however, as time ran out for Saturday’s run.  At the point, I took in the hazy view, ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then turned back for a glorious 6 mile downhill run.  With about 4.5 miles remaining, two dirt bikers flagged me down to tell me this:  “We admire you. We really do!!”  Wow.  I hope that I am a stranger that makes someone’s day once in a while. Total miles run 12.02. (19.34 km). 

Day 21 (Easter Day):  I planned on getting a run in during the morning hours of Easter.  The morning flew by however, so I was left throwing my shoes and garmin into the car as we rushed off to my parents home in Fallbrook.  After an Easter lunch and way, way too many sweets (as my no- sweets-during-lent had ended), I headed out the door for a minimum run just to keep up my Easter streak.  I ran Dinwiddie Preserve for a grand total of 1.28 miles (2.06 km).  And I was happy to do it.  Note to to self:  Don’t forget to pack a sports bra!!!

Day 21: This was not a good day.  To begin, I dreamt in great detail that I was Jewish and in a Jewish concentration camp.  The dream was heavy, too heavy and too detailed.  A couple things that I explicitly recall are: 1)  I said to myself again and again as I registered as  Jew and checked myself into the camp, “This has already been endured.  You just must endure it again,”  and 2) the utter filth in the bedding that we were forced to lay in (though I brought my own clean bedding along with me, which was promptly thrown out when I arrived). 

Among other things on this day, which I will not categorize here, I jumped off my front porch, catching my hand on a rose bush.  A thorn tore, and I mean TORE through my ring and middle fingers, leaving a bloody mess that would not relent.  Besides that and other things (like I broke my husband’s windshield!) and one of my baby brothers went into emergency surgery last night, I was worn out mentally.  (My baby brother’s fine now, but I witnessed him in a great deal of pain yesterday, Easter Sunday.  I am so thankful that he has such a terrific wife.  She got him to the hospital despite preliminary doctor’s findings that they would “monitor,” his pain.  Turns out he was diagnosed wrong and had a ruptured appendix all along, that he suffered with for EIGHT days.)   Anyway, I’m off subject.  The point of this blog is that I did manage to streak day twenty-one.  I took a short drive and ran up Aliso Creek Trail into Wood Canyon.  From there I turned off on a single track for one of my happy places, “Dripping Cave.”  I spent a little time relaxing in the cool and shady Dripping Cave, then headed back out to Wood Canyon where I finished up my run with 6.11 miles (9.83 km).  I’m not sure if this made the day better, but I know I’m better for it.  And I did get a bit of tranquil thoughtlessness.  That’s always a good thing. 

Modjeska Peak in Black and White

Sunday morning, I eventually ended up in Silverado Canyon.  I write “eventually,” because I first found myself parked in a lot up Ortega Highway.  I was sitting in my truck before the sun came up, waiting for the rain to stop.  It didn’t stop, so I drove home.  The best thing is, I was running up Maple Springs much later that morning.  The weather was cool, almost cold, the skies were big and beautiful.  I ran to Modjeska Peak, a peak I have neglected far too long all because I wanted the bigger cookie, Santiago Peak.  Modjeska Peak was delightful.  It was quiet, and it was lonely.  It was so well-worth a climb. 

My trip in black and white:  (14.19 miles, +2,464’)

Maple Springs to Santiago Peak

When I stepped out of my truck Saturday morning in Silverado Canyon, I thought I had made a big mistake.  It was DANG COLD.  I’m talking Southern California cold of course.  But that’s still quite cold to me.  I’m guessing it was about 45F (That’s around 7C).  Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Fortunately, I was layered and wore my trusty beanie and warm gloves. 

I ran without music up Maple Springs, enjoying the quiet.  Well, not exactly quiet.  Wind bursts arrived every five or so minutes, trying to rip my beanie off and dropping the temperature down about 10 degrees.  The wind made a tremendous roar, sometimes a whistle as it blew through the canyon.  About a mile in, I realized that I could hear the wind from miles away.  The leaves would rustle, the trees would creak.  The noise moved up the canyon until boom, the wind hit me.  Just like an ocean wave.  And then again, some minutes later, I’d hear it from afar, and it would travel through the canyon and blow right through me.  My smile was wide enjoying these waves.   Wide like the Chesire Cat.

I was not the only person who thought they’d enjoy a beautiful morning up Maple Springs Road.  Several trucks passed me by, as well as motorcyclists and mountain bikers.  But I arrived to a tranquil “Four Corners,” with only one mountain biker who had just rode up Harding Truck Trail.  I took in the views of several counties (San Bernardino, Riverside, LA, and Orange) and turned off on one of the “corners” heading up toward the peak, Santiago Peak that is. 

View of San Gabriel Mountains from “Four Corners”

The road up The Main Divide toward Modjeska Peak (which I only ran past, not up to) was rocky.  When I write rocky, I’m talking about those fist-sized and some a bit larger rocks covering the road.  A challenge to say the least!  At one point I heard an engine revving up this road.  It was a little, and I mean tiny, low to the ground, yellow automobile.  Rocks clinked and clanged the bottom of his car as the driver drove past me.  He wore a huge grin and sat low to the ground.  The scene reminded me of a couple Harry Potter movie scenes.  It seemed to me that this guy driving up the mountain (quite quickly, I might add) was like the bus driver of that crazy, magical bus, manically driving through the streets of London (Prisoner of Azkaban).  At the same time, I saw Ron Weasley in Chamber of Secrets when he stole his father’s car and drove wildly through the countryside.  I had to chuckle. 

That yellow car is about to turn the corner in the background of this picture: 

After I passed Modjeska peak, I ran the saddle of Saddleback mountains.   The wind blew strongly.  The views were immense.  I rarely run the saddle, which lies between Modjeska and Santiago Peaks.  A treat indeed!   While running the saddle, that little yellow car came racing down from Santiago Peak.  I snapped a picture and the driver quickly stopped on the road right next to me.  He turned off the engine.  Red-faced and smiling, he looked at me questioningly.  I grinned back and laughed, “Are you crazy?”  (Like I’m one to ask, standing in the saddle of the saddleback mountains all by myself).  “You know,” he said, “Yes.  I do believe that I am crazy.”  We both laughed and chatted a short bit, then went our separate ways.   I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole wheat bread as I made the remaining climb to Santiago Peak. 

In the Saddle:

Santiago Peak where the wind took no prisoners!

The run back down to my truck was tough.  It was after all 9 miles of downhill.  And my foot did not like it one single bit.  I did see several hikers, chatted with some.  More trucks made their way up Maple Springs and countless mountain bikers as well.  My foot ached a great deal for the last two miles.  But I still trotted in.  Arriving at my car, I found another driver parking in the best spot in the whole canyon.  It seemed like I had been the only person to discover this parking place, even though it’s so obvious.  He was a mountain biker, and agreed that we had indeed found the best place to park.  When I pulled out, he pulled into my spot, and set up to make his way up the mountain.  As one comes down, another goes up.

What a WONDERFUL morning!