Why I Love the Rain

We got quite a few days of solid rain recently. We even saw snow in our local mountains (which summits at about 5,400’). I love the rain. It wakes us in the middle of the night in our little  beach shack. And it soothes us with the sound of raindrops on the skylights throughout the day. They say it never rains in Southern California. But I know the truth. I’ve lived here more than 57 years. I know that it rains. You just have to have patience and wait. And the rain comes in abundance. I recall as a child in the 1970s, sitting at the kitchen table looking out onto the flooded streets, wondering if it was ever going to stop raining!

I’m still a bus commuter, and the rain didn’t bother me in the least. I’ve got a couple of good pairs of boots, warm coats, an umbrella and an awesome backpack for the trip. But best of all with the rain, the hills and mountains are covered in green, the creeks are flowing and the falls are falling. I don’t mind getting my feet wet one bit.

This past Friday, a few days after the rain stopped (and it has not since returned), my husband and I headed up Ortega Highway (Hwy 74) for a lovely, ten mile, technical hike to Chiquito (Aka Chiquita) Falls. The creeks were strong and the falls flowing. It was an awesome hike. Lots of boulders to climb over, and erosion crevices to maneuver. The skies were blue and the views far. The return was quite difficult because I was so dang tired. Much of the return is downhill, except for the climbing out from the falls and the last leg, San Juan Loop, which climbs back up into the parking lot across the street from The Ortega Oaks Candy Store. I felt wiped out (not quite trashed) on that final stretch.

San Juan Loop:

Heading up Chiquito Trail:Chiquito Falls:

Along last leg of the trip, on San Juan Loop

Ten tough miles. Afterwards, we ran across Highway 74 to The Candy Store. My eyes teared up as I crossed the threshold. It’s been a while. I purchased a nice cold carbonated soda and a couple pieces of fudge for my youngest son back at home. Felt good to be back.

Giving Chiquito Falls Trail Another Try

Tuesday, March 16, I took another trek to Chiquito Falls. They are still dry, even with recent rain  but the trail, as usual, magical. 9.5 miles with 2,500' of elevation gain is pretty tough hike for the distance. I HIGHLY recommend this one -- technical single-track the entire way. Most likely, especially on a weekday, you will have the trails entirely to yourself. It’s a little spooky sometimes. But I get over those episodes quickly.I try to remain always alert in desolate areas. Funny though that these trails are so desolate. The parking is super easy in the big lot across the street from the Candy Store on Hwy 74.  I did see one biker on this trip. After I had hung out at the falls for a good long while, maybe half an hour, a guy on a bike rode in. As I hiked out, I looked back and could see that he took the exact same seat that I always take right above the falls.

On San Juan Loop:On Chiquito Trail:@ Chiquito/a Falls

Ortega Falls (Oops, Not Ortega Falls, which is about a mile further up Hwy 74)

Thursday my husband and I had AGAIN planned to hike Caspers to the hot springs. However, the trails we planned on taking were still closed. So, we drove up Highway 74  to the lot across the street from the candy store. There is a lovely short-short hike up called the San Juan Loop that takes off from the parking lot and winds around to end in back in the lot. It's only 2.2 miles long, but you can add more by hiking down to the falls. Our total hike ended up at 2.7 miles, and boy did we see some falls. It has been quite some time since I have seen Ortega Falls flowing -- can't recall the exact date, but it's been years. This hike is a must do after the rainy season. The added bonus is that it is short, so you can do it as one of your first hikes working up to longer ones. The trip down to the falls is a bit tricky, but definately can be done. Just do it with care.

The first sight of some falls -- looking down from San Juan Loop

 Hiking down & getting closer

 Arrived!

 After hiking back up to San Juan Trails, we spotted this one a little further in

The Great Struggle

On the 7th day of my streak I drove up Ortega Highway, the main road into our local mountains for one of my favorite runs – The Candy Store “Loop.”  It’s a twenty mile route, and though I referred to it as a loop, it’s mostly out-and-back, with just two loops in between.  Basically, it’s 10 miles uphill, 10 miles downhill.

I easily found a profile from my historical stats (see below, since my garmin is broken).   I begin this run in Blue Jay Campground and run back down to the highway, across the street from “The Candy Store.”  Sure there’s some uphills on the way out, and a tiny bit of downhills on the way back.  But it feels like 100% pure uphill for those last ten miles

First things first, I stashed some water off Ortega Highway, at the turnaround point.  I wondered (fleetingly) whether I could pull off today’s run after a relatively tough eleven miles yesterday.  I didn’t dwell too much on my doubt.  That’s how I am.  I just do it, whether I think I can or not. 

The skies were gray, the weather cool and humid.  The ground was rocky, but I can do it now – run that rocky San Juan Trail.  I took the whole trail to Viejo Tie without tripping.  AND, I saw my first tarantula of the year.  This one was a lovely black velvety creature.  I’ve only ever seen brown tarantulas.  As a young girl, I once allowed a ranger in Joshua Tree to put one of these spiders on my arm.  I was the only Girl Scout to volunteer.  The other girls screeched as the tarantula crawled up and down my arm. 

I don’t think I would have let this one crawl along my arm today.  But I was eager to get in close for a good picture:

I felt a bit anxious running without a garmin today.  I should have at least worn a watch.  I had no idea how I was doing for time.  But I felt okay running along San Juan Trail.  From there, I hopped onto the Viejo Tie, a wonderful up and down, single track.  I came upon two trail running acquaintances on the Tie, as they took my route, but in the opposite direction.

Going out – view from San Juan Trail: 

I hit Chiquito Trail in seemingly decent time.  I took Chiquito up until I hit the San Juan Loop.  I felt good, strong in fact on the entire trip out.  I got a bit of rain.  I handled the technical trail with stable feet.  I took San Juan Loop for the climb up into the parking lot.  The climb was tough.  But it was NOTHING compared to what awaited me. 

The Viejo Tie:

Chiquito Trail:

Feeling good on Chiquito:

I could not, and I mean COULD NOT face up to the run back.  It has always been a struggle for me.  I can do it.  But the upcoming struggle produced much unwanted anxiety today.  As I took out my breakfast bar, which I ate on the run, I came up with my plan.  I couldn’t think about what I had to run.  I needed to CONQUER THE GROUND.  That is, continue to get trail behind me.  This mantra, “Conquer the ground,” took away my anxiety as I ran San Juan Loop back to Chiquito. 

San Juan Loop:

I ran much of the uphill, though slowly.  Several times I needed to hike.  I pushed myself off from giant boulders.  I grabbed at branches for support.  I knew as long as I could see the highway, I still had a heck of a long way to run to my next point, Chiquito Falls (which are dry).  Every time I thought that I couldn’t see the highway any longer, I would look behind me or to my left, and sure enough, there was the tiny road, way down there.  It was killing me!!  Finally, I decided I must not look for the road. 

Somewhere on my way to Chiquito Falls, I abruptly stopped.  I don’t recall why.  I just stopped.  A second later, I heard the rattling, and at that moment saw the snake coiling up in the middle of the trail several feet ahead.  I stepped forward for a closer picture.  The snake slithered toward me!  Stepping back, I took my picture further from the poisonous snake.  Then I waited until it calmed down and slithered away.  He rattled during his entire exit.  Well, that added some excitement to my run.  It actually helped take away some of the misery of this great struggle back to my truck.

The Rattler:

FINALLY, I made Chiquito Falls.  “Conquer the ground” wasn’t working for me anymore.  With a few more miles, a few more long miles, I told myself, all you have to do is “Do the time.”  A song by rapper T.I. came to mind where he sings, “Do the time, don’t let the time do you.”  He’s talking about prison time.  But on my run, that line seemed much more apropos to the few miles left on Chiquito.  I had to take the trail, not let it beat me up.  Just “do the time,” and it would eventually be over. 

Some of the boulders that litter Chiquito:

Just do the time.  Just do the time.  “Do the time, don’t let the time do you.”  After about a mile, I made the mistake and began looking forward.  I looked forward to the next point, the Viejo Tie / Chiquito intersection.  I knew I needed to cross over the dry creek bed twice, before I was even anywhere close to the tie.  Even then, it seemed unbearably long to meet up with the Tie.  I hiked often.  I breathed in a gnat through my nose.  Then when I took a deep breath through my mouth, I swallowed one of those dang gnats.  It wasn’t pretty.  No, indeed.  I was no lady.

I continued on with flies buzzing about my ear with a wanting, an unbearable longing for the Viejo Tie.   Finally, through the thick green forest, I saw it – the post!  The post!!!  I flew on past the Viejo Tie/Chiquito post, then hiked the uphill to the next flat.

“Two more deserts, just two more deserts and I reach San Juan Trail.”  Still looking forward (it was just too difficult not to – I was tired, I was hot), I had a lot of uphill before my next destination.  In between me and that spot are two stretches of trail that remind me of the desert.  They are dry.  They are brown.  And they are hot. 

The first desert felt miserably long.  I must have been delirious when I began to wonder if perhaps I had already traveled through the first desert without realizing it.  No such luck. 

Desert #2:

FINALLY, out of the desert, ready to run San Juan Trail back to my truck:

I began to see hikers making their way about on San Juan Trail.  I tripped semi-frequently on the rocks.  And I met a friendly group of teens who told me my pack was unzipped.  As a young girl zipped it up for me, one of the males asked, “Where did you run to?” When I told him “The Candy Store,”  he shook his head.  “The Candy Store???  That’s about ten miles from here!!!” 

To this I groaned, “I know.”  I got a good chuckle out of the teenagers.  My heart did not lighten when they shouted, “You’re almost done!!!”  Though it was great to meet a group of smiling faces.

I COULD NOT stop looking forward.  Just do the time.  Just do the time.  Don’t let the time do you.  But I did let the time do me.  The time chewed me up and spit me out.  I finally made it back to my truck, chaffed, and dirty.  My eyes stung terribly from a dribble of constant sweaty salt.  The best part was, I was finished.  The great struggle was over.  I had done my time.  I did the deed.  The last step was my prize (not to mention the adventure along the way).  And I was glad.  So very, very glad.

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):