Chiquito/Chiquita Falls are Falling

The last time I hiked out to Chiquito Falls I said that the next time I visited they’d be falling. AND THEY WERE. Monday (Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday) I was off from work, so I drove up Ortega Highway and into Blue Jay Campgrounds. Due to the government shutdown, the campgrounds (and all the bathrooms) were locked (because you know, the peasants might go out and play on the king’s land).

I parked outside of the campgrounds on Long Canyon Road and trekked through the grounds to see at least 3 people camping. They parked outside too and hiked in their gear. I mean, who was going to enforce the closing if the government was closed? Nobody, that’s who, and good for the campers too who made the trip all the way up the mountain to find it closed. I do not believe that the actual trails were closed (that would be absolutely unenforceable), but all the campgrounds were for sure.

Despite the government locking us out from the people’s land, the trails were gorgeous on Monday, and they were empty too (until I reached the falls). I took Old San Juan Trail to San Juan Trail. And then, instead of getting right onto Chiquita Trail like I usually do, I opted for The Viejo Tie, which takes a bit longer. I was missing the tie, it had been years. And The Viejo Tie did not disappoint. It was just how I remembered – single track winding between giant boulders arranged on sandy desert-like dirt and then shady, lush areas with moss and shrooms. 

It got even better – Chiquita Trail was lush and green from all of our rains, and the creek was full. The trail was like an enchanted forest with green moss covering the rocks, and a lace like canopy meeting above. At one point, I noticed an animal running toward me on Chiquita, and as usual, it took a couple of seconds before I could determine the animal. It’s a strange thing that when I see an animal coming toward me my sight and thought are not synced. It takes a few seconds for my brain to register what type of animal I’m looking at. My brain registers the picture, but naming it comes a few seconds later. On Monday, it was a gorgeous gray fox. At first, after registering the longish snout and the big pointy ears, I thought coyote. But then my brain settled down and I registered its short legs and the creature’s closeness to the ground. Definitely a fox, and unfortunately, by the time I got my camera out, the fox realized that he was running straight toward a human, turned around and darted off the other way. I do not believe that I have ever caught a picture of a fox. I have perhaps seen a  half dozen on the trails, some in California, others in Texas. 

The falls were falling, and they were crowded with people who had hiked up from The Candy Store on Ortega Highway. There must have been a half dozen hikers laughing and having a good old time as they feasted on fruit at the top of the falls. There another guy playing a ukulele in the high grass right next to the pool, and a male/female couple sitting on the rocks a little further down. After about 15 minutes though, everyone left, and except for the water, it was silent. I had the falls completely to myself. (I posted a 50 second video of the falls here)

I loved this hike. It totaled 9.82 miles with 1,654‘ elevation gain (though that gain was really over about half of that, 1,654' feet in about 4 or 5 miles). I also ran a bit because I was falling behind on time. I took San Juan Trail all the way to the end (or beginning) which I haven’t done in years. It was delightful. It felt good to have dirt beneath my feet. And I didn’t even feel clumsy along that pretty technical trail.

Clearing Chiquita

We are still in prep mode for Chimera (11/17-11/18), hiking out to the trails every weekend to clear fallen trees and stash water. It’s been fun, and at the same time. I’d like to clarify something before continuing though. Is the trail off of San Juan and San Juan Loop in The Ortegas called Chiquito or Chiquita. Well, for years I called it Chiquito Trail because that’s what all the official maps read. But everyone, and I mean everyone, calls it Chiquita Trail. I felt a little foolish being the only person I know who calls it Chiquito Trail. Well, it turns out, and this is pretty funny, that the sign at the San Juan Junction reads: Chiquita Trail. But the sign at The Viejo Tie junction reads Chiquito Trail, and the sign at the San Juan Loop junction, reads Chiquito Trail also. That’s pretty dang hilarious. So, I decided I’m going to call it what everyone else calls it, Chiquita Trail, even though 2 out of 3 of the signs read Chiquito Trail.

Anyway, I ended October (10/27/18) with another trip to the Chimera trails. We stashed water, and did some trail clearing. It’s looking pretty good now, and we have about 72 gallons of water hidden. That is about 70 gallons short of our goal. It’s tough getting volunteers to hike that those technical trails weighed down with water. But thankfully, we have a few hearty souls every weekend. It’s a fun, hard workout, and also thankfully, we have nice breezes being that we are fully into autumn. Gotta love, love, love that autumn.

And so does this baby tarantula:Taking selfies while the boys work :

Total miles: 7

Elevation gain: 1,151

Beauty Vs. Brawn

Sunday, we got a good downpour here in the land that seldom sees rain.  I know that we need the rain, but rain spoils things for me, especially since Mondays are one of the few days that I can get out and run.  As expected, all my local tails were CLOSED “due to wet and muddy conditions.”

Well, I had me a full tank of gas, so I thought, “Hell with it,” and headed up Ortega Highway in my beloved truck.  I know that I would have been better off staying home and putting in miles right out my front door.  I would after all, have time to get in some good mileage if I had chosen that route.  But what I wanted was beauty, not brawn. 

I pulled into Blue Jay campground an hour later, and felt calm and joyful being back to this lovely location.  The ground was still muddy, a few campfires smoldered beneath overly cloudy, cold skies.  Gosh, it had to be 50 degrees F!  (I’m so sorry – I know that isn’t cold for the rest of the world, but it is cold here).  Branches were strewn about; no trees were down, though a few widow makers hung precariously from branches above.  I felt so at home that I could have pitched a tent and stayed a week.  

I cannot adequately relay just how happy and peaceful I felt.

Since hubby had indicated that he would pick up the boys from school, I took off down San Juan Trail feeling like I had all the time in the world.  I did not see another soul on the trails as I made my way toward the San Juan / Old San Juan Trail junction.  But I was not alone.  The forest was alive with sound – critters scrambling through the brush, birds singing anonymously among the trees.  Listening to this music, I had no desire for man-made music, and kept my ear buds hanging over my shoulders. 

I spotted my destination, Sugarloaf Peak, a mile out.  It took some trial and error to find the path that leads to the entrance at the top.  Then it was climbing time, scooting over boulders, grabbing onto branches.  My legs were scuffed with scratches.  Oh the glory.  

I summited Sugarloaf Peak and took a seat on a large flat boulder. I could see Los Pinos Trail climbing up the mountain on my right.  I could see as far as the Pacific Ocean, with ridgeline overlapping more ridgelines reaching out to my left.  I had my beauty.  And it took some brawn to get it.  (The best of both worlds).

The wind picked up; the temperature dropped.  And I simply sat there on that rock and took it all in – the sights, the sounds, the chilling wind.  It was a little spooky, like the wind might swoop me off my rock.  I dug around in my pack and replaced my cap with a wool beanie, and I was good for the cold.  Then I sat some more.

Eventually, I felt that I ought to get going – not that I wanted to go (I could have stayed all day).  I just needed to get back to reality because I do have a wonderful family back at home (young sons that I desire to see, since I miss out on so much with this crazy work schedule).  And I also had a meeting with my boss later in the afternoon.  

I finally glanced at my garmin when my feet hit Old San Juan Trail.  It read 1:10.  Flabbergasted, I thought to myself, “This must be time elapsed – it CANNOT be 1PM!”  But, alas it was after 1PM (time elapsed was much greater).  One might think that since it was so dang late, that I would have picked up my step a bit.  But I did not.  Instead, I lackadaisically ran back (because that is the way roll) toward my truck. 

At the Old San Juan Trail / San Juan Trail junction, I decided to take a so-called short-cut by going straight up Old San Juan instead of meandering San Juan.  (Okay, we have two trails out here called “San Juan Trail”, not to mention an additional “San Juan Loop.”  We have an older, less travelled trail, the original San Juan Trail, that we call “Old San Juan Trail.”  And we have a new San Juan Trail that we call “San Juan Trail” or “New San Juan Trail”.  Just thought I’d straighten that out).  Now, speaking of so-called short-cuts, I know darn well that “short-cut” never really means that the trip is shorter in time.  In fact, short-cuts are usually much more difficult.  And that it was.  But it was a lovely struggle getting back to the truck.  All that beauty was well worth the brawn. 

Still Not Ready

I ran my version of The Candy Store Loop once again this past Sunday.  And once again, it kicked my butt.   But I survived.  I fell only once (just a minor scrape to my uninjured knee).  I did not experience heat exhaustion, even amidst a heat wave.  And I did not run out of fluids.  I spotted a orangish-tan colored lizard that I’ve never seen in these mountains.  And I nearly stepped on a salamander.  Fortunately, I didn’t squash the critter, as Sunday, I ran with two friends (one who noticed the critter) – one new friend and one old (Nicole and Emmett).  Wait:  I must hum the tune that I used to sing in Girl Scouts so many, many, many years ago:  “Make new friends, and keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold.”

Though the elevation gain is not extreme for nineteen miles (just over 3,000’) this is one tough route.  It’s tough because of the technical aspect – rocks and boulders, and sand, and boulders, and rocks, and overgrown grass, and rocks, and boulders, and oh ya – scorching sunlight on exposed trail.  Did I mention rocks and boulders?  

But it’s all fun.  It really is.  And one of these days, I’ll finally be ready for The Candy Store Loop.

Chiquito Trail:

A Trickle at Chiquito Falls:

Salamander on the Trails:

Ocean View from Old San Juan Trail:

Chiquito Trail View:

Tired Dirty Feet back at The Candy Store (From left to right – Nicole, Me and Emmett):

Not Ready

I overslept this morning and changed my mountain running plans to coastal hills running plans.  Then I changed my plans back to mountain running.  My feet didn’t hit dirt until after 9AM.  That’s okay though.  I felt rested and strong as I started the first leg (the uphill leg) of my version of The Candy Store loop.  There many variations of this “loop” out there.  The main parts of the run however, are always the same:  Around 20 miles long, it starts or ends in the lot across the highway from The Candy Store, and goes to Blue Jay Campground, with the main trail being a long technical, rocky Chiquito Trail (which passes by Chiquito Falls, dry now for a good long while).

Fortunately, I experienced a cool breeze practically all day.  Also in the fortunate category:  I am still immune to poison oak, as the shady portions of today’s run were covered with the plant.  However, unfortunately, I was NOT ready for this difficult run.  I felt so fatigued, I experienced light-headedness and needed to force down additional calories.  I also poked my leg by running into cactus, resulting in a trickle of blood.  Then I fell flat on my butt running down a steep Old San Juan Trail.  Running the uphills on the return “downhill” portion really got my goat.  At one point, I turned a bend to find another uphill on my “downhill” route and hollered out a profanity.  

On the slightly humorous, Lauren-peculiar side, a set of hikers stopped me with three miles remaining for my run and asked, “How much longer?”  At that point, my brain could hardly form a thought.  But I did manage to sound like a ditzy broad when I replied “How much longer to where?”  (It always cracks me up when people ask me how much longer, as if I know where they are going).  The group of three looked at me questioningly until I re-phrased my question to “Where are you going?”  One of the guys answered, “Chiquito.”  Still barely able to form a coherent thought, I answered, “You’re on Chiquito.” 

Turns out they were  hiking to Chiquito Falls (which I should have guessed – duh!).  And though I figured out “how much longer” after we parted ways, I was only able to tell them that the falls are five miles from the parking lot.  I forgot to mention that the falls are dry. 

Despite not being ready for this run, I did finish it.  I finished it without collapsing and without calling 911.  I didn’t even run out of fluids.  Hooray for the fresh water in Blue Jay!  Who cares that my lower left calf aches (grocery store accident), and the plantar fasciitis in my right foot is having a painful flare-up. 

Going Up . . .

Much Appreciated Shade:

So, so, so happy to hear the cars from the road way down there – I was almost, almost finished:

Route:  San Juan Loop, Chiquito, Viejo Tie, San Juan Trail, Long Canyon Road in Blue Jay, Old San Juan, Chiquito, San Juan Loop.

Old Goat Sweep

I drove up the mountain before sunrise this morning.  My destination:  Lower Blue Jay campground in the Cleveland National Forest.  Today, I had the honor to sweep Old Goat 50 Miler.  Oh, the privileges of working a race!  First off, I was able to drive all the way to the front lot to park.  I also didn’t have to sign in or sign any waiver.  I walked around in the big tent.  I knew the race director, his wife and the race coordinator all by name.  I saw lots of running friends, both runners and volunteers.  And best of all, I got to take off running whenever I was dang ready.

The sweeper’s job: 

Sweepers run behind the last person in the race.  They pick up trash, take down course markers, and look for anyone left on the trail.  Sweepers in the first parts of the race have it pretty easy.  Runners are still relatively happy.  Sweepers don’t have to pull anyone from the race.  And the weather is nice and cool.

My route: 

I swept the first ten miles of Old Goat this morning.  It entailed a loop referred to Cocktail Loop, which consists of running San Juan Trail to Old San Juan Trail, back to San Juan Trail into Blue Jay campground.  There’s no aid stations along the route.  It’s all single-track, and technical.

I had an overwhelmingly enjoyable run sweeping Old Goat.  I felt utterly stress-free, with all the time in the world to complete this loop.  The run was so easy, I don’t think I took even one sip of fluids until about mile 8.  I met new people, some I recognized from Facebook.  I fell once, skinned my knee.  And I practiced maneuvering over ridiculously rocky terrain.   Back at the San Juan/Old San Juan Intersection, I got to help direct runners out for their second loop (The Candy Store Loop).  I wasn’t jealous one bit that I was not running this race.  I much preferred my easy-peasy, happy time over any inevitable death-march today. 

On Cocktail Rock: