The Calm Before the Storm @ Beek's Place

Just before my family's (and much of my entire country's, and others') routines and plans for the next month or so came to a screeching halt, and just before this week or so of rains, I made it out to Black Star Canyon up to Beek's Place for a little over 16 miles (2,339' elevation gain). That was Sunday, March 8.  It was a cold day, but not freezing; it was perfect. I kept bundled the entire trip (aside from taking off the beanie). And the skies, they were spectacular -- blue with giant puffy clouds. There were dozens of us out there on the trails that day: mountain bikers, hikers, runners. I was out there getting in some hiking and running on these lovely trails before the rains set in. I was oblivious to how the next week would turn out with the coronavirus (COVID-19) beginning to make its way through various cities in the U.S. Since then, all three of my sons various events, music and such, have been cancelled. Two of my sons will be home for the next month because their public high school has closed. My oldest son's university has gone online, and my teaching has gone online too. Much to my surprise, the shelves are practically empty at the grocery stores. Business establishments have very few people in them. There's fewer people driving the roads. Right now people are getting ready to shelter in place. And its eerie and surreal. 

I am grateful for those hours up Black Star Canyon on March 12. I love Black Star Canyon still! The fields were green and blooming with purple lupin. The breeze was reinvigorating. As usual, I spent far too much time up at Beek's Place. Instead of coming in at 5 hours, it was more like 5 and 1/2 hours. All well worth it. Black Star Canyon was a great way to spend the calm before the storm -- the literal and the figurative storm. As soon as the rain breaks, I'll be back out on the trails. I figure that I'll be safe from viruses there, perhaps the only place for now. 

Making my way alongside the creek, before the climb begins:

Looking back at the dreamy plateau I just passed through:

On The Main Divide @ Beek's Place

Heading Back:

Laurel Springs -- Check.

Last Friday, February 21,  I got out for some much needed trails (so few and far between!). For this hike (& run), I was fortunate to have a friend come along and so my goal was to finally find Laurel Springs. I have passed the trail marker along Harding Truck Trail dozens of times. And I have even taken the Laurel Springs trail down a short ways, only to turn back because of the heat.

We took off out of Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary in Modjeska Canyon at about 9am and headed up the huge climb, passing Flores Peak on the way. The climb up Harding is STEEP -- Steep and gorgeous, which helps keep your mind off the climb. Actually, good company and conversation is more what kept my mind off the climb. 

It was a beautiful clear day. Spring flowers were showing themselves along the edges (orange poppies and purple lupin). We did not see a single other person on foot. But we did see the fire department -- they were out grading Harding Truck Trail. 

At exactly 5 miles on my sports watch, we found Laurel Trail, which is no longer marked. It starts off downhill and continues that way for about a 1/2 mile (at most!).

We found Laurel Springs pretty quickly after taking the trail. It's a downhill single-track hike, no more than a 1/2 mile as previously mentioned. Overall, reaching the springs was anti-climatic to say the least -- just a dribble. But the area was overgrown which made for a cool resting place. And the trickle sound of the water was lovely. 

After the anti-climatic Laurel Springs, we hiked back up and layed back on a concrete block structure tucked off of a side trail and looked up at the sky. This was the serene view (picture below). What a lovely view to take in while listening to the sounds of silence. Great medicine! We ran much of the way back. But then we took a little detour into Harding Canyon to scout out a future hike. Looking forward to that.

Running Back with Laurel Bay Leaf in my vest pocket (love the smell!)

Flores Peak

11 miles,

2,778' feet of elevation gain (done pretty much in the first 5 miles!)

Chimera 2018 Behind-The-Scenes

Chimera 2018 is finished. First we thought there would be no Chimera ‘18. The fires burned through much of the course. And then just about 6 weeks out, RD Steve Harvey got approval for a revised course – “The Candy Store Loop”, 5 loops for 100 miles (approximately). Difficult course, perhaps not as difficult as the previous Chimera courses, but difficult indeed (and what 100 miles wouldn’t be?). On a good day, when I am fit and have lots of miles on my belt, it takes me 6 hours to complete a slightly longer version of this loop (my version is 21 miles). Conceivably, it could take me 30 hours to finish five loops, but there’s no way that I would be able to keep the 6 hour pace after the first loop. The cut-off for Chimera 2018 was 34 hours. There were very few 100 mile finishers (7 completed).

The course: Start in lower Blue Jay campgrounds and run up Old San Juan Trail near the outhouses at the top of the road -- from there, quickly cut left to San Juan Trail. Run San Juan Trail past the Chiquita trailhead and turn left at The Viejo Tie, then turn right at Chiquita Trail and take that to San Juan Loop to the left to end up at the parking lot across the street from the candy store on Ortega Highway (Ortega Oaks Candy Store). The way back is the same, except runners take the other half of San Juan Loop back to Chiquita.

After weeks of prep, show time began Friday, November 16. I got up to the campgrounds around noon, partially set up camp (mainly the tent, pillows & wood). Steve had the shelters set up at the start/finish line. Stoves, heaters, lanterns, canned goods, tables, cooking utensils and such were unpacked. Whitney S. (AS captain at The Candy Store) was down in Lake Elsinore buying the food. It felt good to be back in the Cleveland National Forest. There were quite a few campsites available in “upper” Blue Jay. People weren’t really in a rush, I suppose, to campout here 3 weeks into November. Even at 3 pm, the weather was quite cool as I waited for Chris D. He and his friend Bill H. are regular volunteers and they always request the most remote station. One awesome perk about that is Bill is a licensed HAM operator. But this time around, Chris’s truck couldn’t drive to the most remote station -- they had to pack it in to Chiquita Falls. It would take runners about six miles to reach the falls. By cutting the course, you can get to the location in about 3.25 miles. And for weeks we had been doing that -- stashing water (about 90 gallons total) near that site.

Friday afternoon Chris, myself  and Ace (a Wisconsin who was camping with his wife and baby, volunteered on the spot, and remained with us until the end) hiked out to Chiquita Falls with the remaining gear: a small table, two sleeping bags, a lightweight tent, lanterns, extra batteries, glow sticks and other essentials. I must mention that the terrain to Chiquita Falls is technical and difficult in places. The last three-quarters of half mile coming back into camp is the most difficult with a terrible incline (or great incline, depending on how you look at it). We were all really pushing the pace Friday afternoon, having left the camp a little after 3:00 pm. We got caught by darkness with about a mile remaining which was not a bad thing. But I wasn’t sure if my text had gone through to my husband saying where I was when he arrived and I was not back. The company was delightful. I hardly had to talk at all, instead listening to interesting tales, occasionally chuckling and feeling glad to be out on the trails even though I hadn’t felt like going out originally.  The sunset was striking -- set against pinkish-orange wispy clouds. We could see the ocean from of the higher points. And that transition period between light and dark was eerily beautiful. The weather was still and the weather and growing colder. Eventually, I had to switch on my headlamp (which I held in my hand because it was too dark to figure out the adjustments -- and I didn’t want to stop because we were on THE MOVE).

Back at camp at 5:40 pm, I had dinner with my husband and two of our boys. Then I worked on setting up the start/finish line for registration early the next morning. I finally lay down to sleep at about midnight, and it seemed that I did not sleep a single wink the whole 5 hours that I lay there. I wore a long sleeve thermal shirt, flannel pajama pants, socks, a knit a beanie, and zipped all the way in my sleeping bag, I still froze. Damn was it cold! I could hear the zombies panting outside my tent.

I was happy to bounce up Saturday morning when my alarm rang out at 5:00 am. It meant that I could move around and get warm. Volunteers were already busy checking in runners at the registration table. Whitney had packed up and was at The Candy Store. Mike E., Noel S., and Steve’s daughter Kate were directing parking along Long Canyon Road. Chris and Bill were down at the start line, ready to head out to Chiquita Falls for the next 24+ hours. And the Hailey, Christine and her friend were ready to hike out to the San Juan Trail aid station.  All of the stations would have at least three shift changes, except for Chiquita Falls which would not change shifts until Sunday morning at 7:30 am.

Saturday (11/17) early morning check-in:Chris & Bill getting ready to head out to Chiquita Falls:Part of the Blue Jay AS morning crew:

Chimera 2018 Aid Stations:

1. Blue Jay (located at start/finish line in lower Blue Jay Campgrounds off of Ortega Highway)
2. Chiquita/San Juan Junction (around 2.4 miles on first trip for the runners).
3. Chiquita Falls (about mile 6)
4. Candy Store (mile 10)

Once race day arrived, my job was actually much easier compared to prior years when I needed to coordinate pick-ups and drop-offs on The Main Divide. This year, the weeks leading up were much tougher (stashing water, clearing the trail). But this year, race day was much easier for me. I made sure I was down at the start line to greet shift changes, draw up maps, go over things with the volunteers, and coordinate equipment drop off. The Blue Jay station was so well-staffed though, that after I showed the various shifts where everything was, the station was up and running without me. Head chef was Steve’s daughter Kate (her vegan chili, burgers and tomato basil soup were superb). 

At the homestead:Freezing our asses off Saturday night (11/17):

So, were there mishaps in the volunteer coordination and logistics? Of course there were. There always is. Maps can be drawn, but under darkness, or other conditions (like cold!) turns are missed, directives are forgotten. But no mishap was detrimental, and in the long run, everything worked out great, and the volunteers went above and beyond (again and again). Case in point: the so-called Chiquita/San Juan Junction aid station was set-up at the wrong location -- it was actually short quite a bit, and nowhere really near Chiquita Trail. I think the best thing about this error was that the volunteers got to be in a much more comfortable area (especially during the cold of night) because of its close location and tree coverage.  And I did not learn of this until Sunday afternoon. Ignorance is bliss. There was nothing to fix, the runners found their way, and the volunteers got a much cozier location.

But the poor guys at Chiquita. We had radio contact with them, and on 3 occasions they were told that hamburgers from the grill were on the way. All 3 times, they were delivered to the wrong aid station (which was also in the wrong location). And then, the replacement crew (bless their hearts!) got lost on the way to Chiquita (I drew maps, I did, but I don’t think anyone looked at them.) When I heard that the Chiquita Falls replacements hadn’t showed up by 8am, I grew quite concerned, but later learned that the two volunteers figured it out and made it. Whew! Chris and Bill finally made it back to the start line from 24+ hours at Chiquita Falls. And the first thing that Chris joked was that he had lost all faith in humanity (being told on 3 occasions that burgers were on their way out to them, only to never arrive!). To top that off, it got damn cold out there deep in the valley -- Chris claimed that the sleeping bags we hiked out the day prior saved their lives! I can imagine how cold it was. We all froze that night at the start/finish line. Really, it was damn cold! (About 39 degrees at the candy store, and I believe we were probably colder).

Todd V with Chris and Bill, & Ace between them (after returning from Chiquita Falls):

As usual, the help we received from volunteers was immeasurable. They put in countless hours in sometimes uncomfortable circumstances. It was just more of “what can we do to get it done?”

It really does take a village to get this race done. In no particular order (except RD Steve and wife, Annie, are first), here is a pretty complete list of the actors who put Chimera 2018 on the books:

Steve and Annie Harvey, Ace and Shannon, Mike E, Noel S, Cat O (& spouse), Yen D, Tom and Minerva B, Tom T, Kat, Christine H (& friend), Hailey A, Joyce L (& four friends), Walt H, Stefan B, Chris D, Bill H, Rob N, Jessica, Whitney S, Leon, Ryan B, Chris F, Tracy K, Nancy I, Dave T, Colleen S (& 2 friends), Todd V, LT, Jean, Laura, Kate, Lexi (& hubby), Lucas M, Leonard Z, Victor, Mark, AND AT MININUM TEN MORE! (I wish that I had everyone’s names) 

Looks like I have a little time off for now. Happy Thanksgiving!

Santiago Truck Trail

While packing for last Friday’s hike (10/12), I noticed a leak in my pack’s bladder. It was hard NOT to notice; the outpour, though small and thin, was forceful. My cat did it. My husband had warned me that he had seen him swatting at my pack here and again. So, there I was, my day off Friday, ready for a hike with a leaky bladder. Fortunately, I had planned a relatively short hike, and could spare going off to the store for a new bladder. I was calm and I was collected because I almost always plan my trail adventures days in advance and knew I had time to spare. Note: calm and collected I am not always, which is why I try and plan things out in advance. (Planning is one of the best remedies for anxiety).

As it turned out, I arrived about twenty minutes before the running store opened. I needed a way to waste time -- because I couldn’t just sit in my truck for 20 minutes (though I should because it really needs cleaning and organizing – really! It is a complete mess) Anyway, I stopped in at Trader Joes, which is in the same parking lot, for some groceries. They were sold out of the items first on my list, so with slightly growing frustration I purchased some nuts (we are a huge nut lover family) and dried salami. Finally, I was back at the running store, purchased myself a new Ultimate Direction bladder ($32) and headed off to the mountains. Santiago Truck Trail that is.

Mid October is the start of autumn in Southern California. We still have warm days, but it’s definitely cooling down. And the mornings, they are sometimes cold. Autumn is the best time to hit Santiago Truck Trail again. There’s hardly any shade, but that’s okay now, it’s all okay now. Autumn is here. And then after that we have winter, and then spring . . . summer is far, far away.

I hiked an out-and-back (with a bit of running) out to the flags across from the vulture crags. On the way, I took two detours – 1) up to a strange cross-like monument, and 2) to a second set of flags, The US flag and the California flag. The trip totaled 7.23 miles with 1,363’ feet of gain. As my hike progressed, enormous white clouds began to appear and the breeze blew cooler It was wonderful. Simply wonderful.

It did not occur to me then that the giant clouds were a hint of something good to come. That night back at home, rain began to fall. And it continued to fall for most of Saturday. And all the plants rejoiced! (As did I).

And because this was a Friday hike, the video clips put to music. 

Candy Store Run

My last run was last Sunday.  I recovered Monday.  Then my mood dipped pretty low.  I felt I needed to get my disordered life in order, so I spent much of my time organizing and cleaning and applying for more job positions. Hubby begged, “Please, go out and run!!!”  He didn’t say that because he wanted me out of the house.  The house was much cleaner after all – carpets vacuumed, floors swept, bills organized.  He just knows me.  He knows that runs would have lifted my spirits.  But it was gray and wet all week.  And that just made me more depressed.

In the interim, I did work on physical strength.  I did weight lifting, core work and general strength exercises nearly every day.  Then Saturday, I ran with my two youngest sons in the Kids Run The O.C. program.  I wore my New Balance Minimus trail shoes, which I can’t wear on the trail at all – they just aren’t substantial enough for technical terrain.  Anyway, even though the kids run was only one mile, I felt really good getting my legs moving.  The shoes were awesome, extremely comfy on the pavement.  It was all over too soon, and I couldn’t wait for today’s scheduled group run.

As many as 8 runners may have shown at 6:30 AM up in the local mountains.  Turns out, just two showed – me and my running friend, Michael P.

We started off on “The Candy Store” run on a cool morning, across the street from the candy store on Ortega Highway.  Right away I took us on a wrong turn, and we had to run back to the trail to continue onward.  Then once we got going on the correct, lush shady trail, I noticed that we were making a loop back to the parking lot.  I missed the turn off to Chiquita Trail!!  Missing the turn off added at least a quarter mile of technical uphill running (& back totaling 1/2 mile).

Back on track, running Chiquita Trail:

I found the trip up Chiquita delightful and wondered why it tore me apart so badly during the SJT 50k.  Of course, I had about twenty miles on my legs before making that trip!

The trail was empty on the out portion today.  We saw one hiker with hiking sticks making his way down.  He said this was, “The one trail that’s uphill on the way out and the way back.”  Seems so true.  But in reality it’s not.  Michael said that it’s like an Escher drawing. 

This time around, I was sure to search out Chiquita Falls, which I have failed to discover on my prior out-and-backs on this trail.  I found much less than I expected.  The falls were dry.

Chiquita Falls: 

And then we ran more Chiquita trail, now mostly in the shade.  It was lovely, lush and green.  And most of that green in the undergrowth?  POISON OAK.  I brushed against it again and again.  Here’s to hoping my apparent immunity to the plant is still intact. 

Arriving to the Chiquita trailhead, we had a choice to make.  1) Turnaround and run back, or 2) run a loop up San Juan Trail into Blue Jay Campground and back to Chiquita for the return trip.  We chose more mileage.  But first, Michael was attacked by fire ants as we tried to set up our cameras for “group” photos.  Ouch!

San Juan Trail, all ridiculously uphill and seemingly never ending was hot as well.  Mountain bikers made their way down the single track as I focused on not tripping over the rocky terrain.  At each turn I thought we were at the trailhead, only to find – No!  There was more to run in this heat.  Finally, we could see campgrounds and we simply ran right through the hillside into the campground, cutting off approximately a half mile from this run.

Mushrooms on San Juan Trail: 

Blue Jay Campground seemed like a a 5 Star hotel to me.  A cool breeze blew.  There were trash cans to empty my pockets.  There were outhouses.  There were people.  And there was even running water. 

Well, the “down hill” trip back was not all down hill.  And when it was downhill, it was usually rocky and difficult to traverse.  On our way back to Chiquita, we came to the 4-way fork that I asked Michael to mark on our way in, because I lose my sense of direction there and have twice taken a wrong turn in the past.  Sure enough, I had no sense of direction when we arrived to the markers.  Had Michael not marked it, I would have surely chosen a wrong turn.  Funny.  Even with the markers, I began to run down the wrong trail!!

It was hot and I was growing extremely tired.  I wasn’t the only one.  Two mountain bikers (male & female) were sitting in the shade on the rocky trail, looking utterly fatigued.  They complained that they were “so hot,” and asked were they could find water.  They each had two bottles of water – one of them empty, the other with some water remaining.  When Michael pointed out the quickest way into Blue Jay, they took one look at that giant hill we had just run down and said, “No way, we’re not going up there for water.” 

It’s good the two were sitting in shade.  But they still had the trip to make back to the candy store.  I urged them to make the hike into Blue Jay.  “Just leave your bikes here,” I suggested.  They didn’t look like they’d be able to make the 8 plus miles back to the parking lot with the little water they had.  I hope the two rested a good long while and took our advice and hiked into Blue Jay.  We didn’t come across them again.

And we were off on the long, long HOT trip “down” Chiquita Trail with Michael taking the lead.  After a few miles, I suddenly came upon Michael standing on the single-track facing two hikers.  “We’ve got a rattler here,”’ he said.  I could hear its rattles from several feet away.  “Do you think I can get a picture?”  I asked and everyone laughed.  Turns out, I couldn’t get a picture.  And I was a little bummed about that.   

I really don’t fear rattlesnakes.  That’s not to say I don’t fear being stricken by one.  The best thing that can happen with a rattler is that you see it from a safe distance.  And we were at a safe distance.  As I moved in closer to see it coiled up in the brush, the two hikers nervously backed away.  I asked Michael if he could tell how big it was.  He said he thought it was about four feet long.  Well, I gave it an extra couple feet just in case, which means it’s striking distance would be about 3 feet or a little more.  The trail was about three feet wide, so I hiked up onto the bank on the opposite side of the trail as the frightened snake rattled away.  Now, not only would the rattlesnake have to strike more than three feet – he would have to strike me up hill!  (They can supposedly strike further down hill).  The two hikers looked at me like I was absolutely crazy.  Michael followed right behind me to pass the danger.  When I told the hikers that a rattler can only strike a little more than half it’s size, they too hiked up on the bank.  They looked back at us nervously.  “Just give them their space and you’ll be fine.” 

And then Michael and I continued to run – run in the heat and on the rocky, miserable terrain.  I was so dang tired, it would have felt good to walk the entire remaining miles, but with about three miles remaining, I wanted to get back ASAP.  My fluids were gone.

The “down hill” back to The Candy Store:

The last three miles were excruciatingly difficult.  We hiked some, we trotted some, we ran some.  Michael got out ahead often, but I could see him stop and look back.  It really was wonderfully miserable.  And when I thought I could no longer take it,  I looked around me to take in the beauty.  I dreamt of the ice-cold Gatorade in my truck.  And I refused to look at my garmin..  I also concentrated breathing through the nose, which worked very well since I ran so slowly.  It also helped to calm me down.  I tend to get a little anxious when the run gets super tough. 

The Beauty that surrounded us:   

The last mile was truly hellish for me.  No fluids and extreme heat, not to mention uphill terrain, was not a good mix.  But as Michael said, “One foot in front of the other, eventually we’ll make it.”  I think he was a little worried about my directions, especially since it TOOK SO LONG to catch even a glimpse of the parking lot. 

What a beautiful sight it was to see signs of the parking lot.  I actually hollared, “Woo-Whoo!” when my feet hit that pavement.

Finished (& a bit fatigued): 

Elevation Profile (19.11 miles):

And of course, the satellite (notice the wrong turn in the beginning, where the loop almost closes – LOL):