Howdy Neighbor

I got out the door this morning much later than I had planned.  The sun was already fully up, runners were running up and down the city streets.  This was going to be a problem.  It’s summertime now – and heat is building.  I REALLY need to get out there under darkness if I want to do long runs in the mountains

Okay, it is what it is.  So, I decided to cut my run about five miles short.  This way, I’d arrive back home about the same time I originally planned. I think what’s most important to me is not what time I leave, but what time I arrive home.  

I drove to Modjeska Canyon not at all in a hurry.  I even stopped at the tiny community park in the canyon to use the outhouse.  There were some bags of stuff like vhs videos and paperback books free for the taking at the entrance gate.  One book stood out to me – My First Summer in the Sierra, by John Muir.  I grabbed it as I hopped back into my truck and headed off for Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary.  (It wasn’t until later at the Laundromat when I began reading this book, that it felt that someone left it specifically for me!)

It was after 7AM when I began that wonderful-terrible climb up Harding Truck Trail.  I felt sluggish, but didn’t let that get me down.  I mean, how could I with a view like this:

Catalina Island looked like a mountain range.  Sometimes I can’t even see the island.  Today, cloud cover was gone.  Today, views were immense – the San Gabriel Mountains behind me, the Pacific Ocean in front of me.  I had to stop and stand at the edge of the trail and revel in the vastness before me.  I felt at one with the land during that moment, as if time didn’t move, when suddenly the loud rattling awakened me.  Wow.  Talk about ferocious.   I don’t know why anyone’s afraid of whether or not they’d hear a rattler.  Their rattling is so unbelievably loud, there’s no missing it.  It doesn’t sound like an insect or anything else except the loud, fierce rattling of a poisonous snake.  I immediately turned off the music on my ipod, focused in on the noise, and moved away from it.  I didn’t even bother to locate the snake.  I’ve seen enough rattlesnakes, and I had some time to make up on today’s run.  So, instead, I trotted away (UPHILL some more) on my way to Four Corners (where Harding Truck Trail meets The Main Divide). 

It was a struggle, a great struggle running up that gigantic switch-back.  I’m not talking about a mental struggle.  Mentally, I was there.  I knew eventually I’d make it.  And just because my abilities sucked this morning, didn’t mean that I’d flat-out fail come The Harding Hustle in two weeks. 

Several hikers made their way down Harding Truck Trail as I made my way up.  A few runners came down too, which is utterly unusual in my experience on this trail.  I rarely see runners on Harding Truck Trail.  Several cyclists raced down Harding as well.  Then with about three miles remaining to “Four Corners,” I passed the last hiker I’d see.  He was hiking down.  We both did a little wave, and just as I passed him, I realized that I knew this man.  I stopped in my tracks, looked back at him and said, “You look familiar.”  I thought that he was probably one of my students, someone recent, or a student that had been in my class more than once – he looked that familiar.  I’m not sure if he recognized me immediately of it if just donned on him, but he said, “I’m your neighbor.”

Doh!  My neighbor!  My next-door neighbor.  Can you imagine?  I don’t know my neighbor!  My husband does.  But, I’m rarely out front.  And in my defense (a little anyway), he has only been our neighbor for a short while.  I can’t even tell you how long, but less than a year (I think).  We chatted a bit for the first time today on Harding Truck Trail, and I found out that he was doing the same 19 miles as I.  I had to laugh that we have this huge common interest, live right next door to each other, and for the first time really, spoke on this mountain. Howdy neighbor.

After our quick chat, I stopped at this scenic view to phone my hubby and tell him who I met on the trail:

Well, I finally made it to “Four Corners,” in just about the worst time I’ve ever ran it.  I sat for a bit and re-packed my hydration pack (had empties to tie on), and then I took off for that long, hot, exposed nine plus miles down.  I came upon several hikers making their way up in the extreme heat.  Thank goodness for a slight breeze.  I tried to power run it down, and hoped that I’d catch my neighbor.  No such luck.  I was lucky to maintain a 13 minute mile, so sluggish and worn out was I.  I tripped really hard once, slightly several times.  And I ran out of water with a little over a mile remaining. 

Last time I made this run (last week), I came in thirty minutes quicker than usual.  Today, I came in forty-five minutes slower than usual.  I’ll take it.  18.76 miles on trails is pretty much great any way I look at it. 

I Hate Horsethief

I may not look like it in this picture – but I HATE West Horsethief.  I really do.  That trail is a vampire.  It sucks the blood right out of me and leaves me there in the dirt to die.  So, ask me this:  Why did I decide to take on Horsethief in the middle of the afternoon during the summertime?  I have a good explanation for that.  Well, I don’t know how good.  To make it quick, I needed to pick up our youngest son in Wildomar on Sunday.  Just so happens that The Saddleback Mountains separates me from that destination.  Normally, I would have driven around the mountains.  On Sunday, I thought, “Heck – I’ll take a short cut.  I’ll drive to the top of the mountain.  AND, while I’m at the top of the mountain, I’ll run back down into the canyon . . .  then run back up to the ridge – via Horsethief.” 

What the heck!!!

What. Was. I. Thinking?

I knew right away that I was probably in trouble.  I felt miserable at 1:30 PM climbing up The Main Divide in 100+ F degree weather.  And I felt pretty miserable running down Trabuco (because the terrain was so rocky I couldn’t get a foothold!!!).  But it certainly was GORGEOUS.  Trabuco is awesomely beautiful.  Enough to forget about the potential hell that awaited. 

My Beautiful Trabuco:

My real troubles began as soon as I set foot upon Horsethief.  I yearned for shade.  SHADE.  SHADE.  SHADE.  I felt that I could not bear the trek another step.  But I had to.  Had to.  I was in a canyon with no way out, but UP.  I pretty much hated every second of it.  But I plugged forward, else fall down in the dirt and cry.  Hell, I tell you!  Hell.  When I finally reached a bit of shade, there were no branches strong enough to lean against and hold me up.  I tried to hunch over and grab my knees.  But my hands just flew off my knees from the sweat.  Finally, I just decided that in order to cool off, to stop my insides from boiling over on this ridiculous incline, I needed to stop and  SIT in the shade.  And this is what I did.  I sat until I could feel my body temperature decline.

And then, I finally made it.  I reached The Main Divide.  I wasn’t giddy, and I wasn’t elated.  Instead, I bushwhacked my way  to the water stash.  I was so grateful to find the stash was still there.  Thing was, the tarp was thrown off and the tens of gallons were exposed to the hot heat.  After washing my face in HOT water, I poured a jug over my head.  And then I filled my pack with this hot water.  I didn’t mind taking the time to put the tarp back over the water.  I was in no hurry to continue on.  Eventually, I took off on The Main Divide in sopping wet clothes, but thankfully with a body temperature declining. 

As the gnats swarmed my face, I caught a clear glimpse of Lake Elisnore.  Not far from the lake, our youngest son played, joyfully I’m sure, with his friend at his nearby home in Wildomar.  I couldn’t wait to get there.  But move, I could hardly manage.  I ran the flats and I ran the downhills.  I didn’t run quickly though.  And I didn’t even much look at my garmin for pace.  Misery.  This is what I was training for.  How many more steps?  Don’t think about that.  Just one foot in front of the other, and then I will be done . . .

That took FOREVER.  But I made it.  Indeed I did.  

When I drove home that evening, I drove around the mountain instead of up and over.  I was done with mountains for the day! 

Thank God for Holy Jim

I got a really late start this morning, late for a mountain run.  I didn’t get into my truck until 8:30 AM, didn’t begin my off-road driving until about 9:00 AM.  My feet, ever so delightfully, hit dirt at 9:30 AM.

I decided to run my semi-usual Holy Jim / Horsethief loop counterclockwise, the opposite that I usually run it.  Oh. My. Goodness!  The climb up West Horsethief was brutal.  BRUTAL.  Instead of growing angry up that grueling climb, I told myself to use this as a learning experience.  (And it worked, I didn’t grow angry or throw a pity-party-temper-tantrum once up that blasted hill).

The views brought to me by West Horsethief:

Even after reaching the top of W. Horsethief, I still had plenty of climbing ahead.  Heat came down in abundance!  At times, I needed to stop in the shade to cool my body temperature.  I felt the heat sickness coming on, but thankfully was able to keep it at bay (experience did its job today!). 

I didn’t see any other runners out on The Main Divide, though I did see two mountain bikers.  All I can really say is that it got DANG TOUGH out there on the mountain ridge.  Thank God for Holy Jim!  Though gnats swarmed my face when I hit this giant switchback, I was oh so relieved, because Holy Jim signified a downhill, mostly shady, five mile run.  And it was glorious.  Truly glorious.  There’s nothing like downhill shade when you’ve been doing uphill sun!

Yay shade!!!

I met two hikers on this fun downhill trip.  We chatting briefly.  When I mentioned West Horsethief, they said in unison “Everybody hates Horsethief.”  Euphoria hit with about 3.5 miles remaining as a breeze hit my face and the multi-colored wildflowers swayed at my shins.  Again, it was beautiful.  Truly beautiful.  And amidst enjoying this beauty and euphoria, a thought entered my brain.  That thought was,  “This is the part when you fall.”  (Falls usually happen in the center of euphoria). Wouldn’t you know it????  Not three steps later, I tripped on a cluster of boulders.  I tripped hard, but was able to save it, and thankfully didn’t fall.  (It would have been a terrible fall).

I washed my face at the trickle spring and made the last 2.5 miles in good time.  As I ran that last mile in I approached a dry Holy Jim Creek and opted to run across a small log to practice my balance.  I was almost patting myself on the back for good balance when the log turned and dumped me onto the dry, rocky creek bed.  I hit hard, with no roll whatsoever.  I guess the “Fall Fairies” still had it in for me – they didn’t so much like my “save” earlier up Holy Jim.  They made sure that I bloodied my palm and knees before the end of today’s run.  I lay there in the rocks, bees buzzing about my head, and also my cap that lay a couple feet away.  I felt light headed as I pushed myself back upright and needed to think twice on whether or not I hit my head.  I did not hit my head, but my wounds, caked in wet dirt, ached a great deal.  I staggered a bit before picking up my run again.  With just about 1/2 mile remaining in today’s run, the “Fall Fairies” left me a treat in the middle of the trail – two nice sized chunks of ice.  Yes ice!  Can you believe it?  I iced down my knees and palm and then made my way across Holy Jim creek, this time across a board secured about 3.5 feet above the creek.  I didn’t run it, though I made it across without falling and was able to pat myself on the back for good balance.    Finally, with some fluids to spare, I made it back into the Holy Jim lot where I promptly jumped into my truck for that tedious off-road trip out of the canyon.

Oh how I love mountain runs!  I can’t wait until the next one.

Miles 14.18 (22.82 km)

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. 

My Time in Eden

Sunday:

Holy Jim / West Horsethief Loop:  14 miles (22.5k):