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.

Test Run

I did not take a new pair of shoes out for a test run today.  Unfortunately, no.  I took my feet out for a test run today, more specifically, my right ankle.  I’m done wearing the boot.  But still, I wore one of those stretchy braces beneath my socks.  (I got it filthy with dirt.)

My ankle felt fine running the uphills and flats.  It was those downhills, especially on the way back that added a bit of pain.  My ankle may or may not have been ready for today (I’m going to be optimistic and say it was).  But dang it, I missed the trails badly.  I was actually having dreams that I could not run trails anymore, that I had to turn back on certain trails (that I’ve never seen in my waking life) because they were too hard.  Too hard!!! 

Aside from testing out the ankle, I also worked on a bit of form today as I ran the rolling ridge overlooking Laguna Beach.  One problem with my form has been that I lean my shoulders forward and look to the ground when running up hill.  This posture makes for tense sore shoulders and a reduction in speed.  During this afternoon’s run, I focused on keeping my head up, even with my hips.  And though I occasionally found myself looking down, I was convinced to keep looking forward when doing so I spotted my first rattler of the season.  She was a beauty.

Ready to run myself back into tip-top shape!

It seemed that I actually made eye contact with this rattler as I ran toward her to snap this photo.  She appeared annoyed. (On the way off this single track, I came upon two lovely young, very young ladies, making their way up.  I warned them to be aware, “I just saw a rattler.”  Upon hearing this, they both SCREAMED, and ran back down the single-track.  I felt badly for scaring them and gave the ladies a quick lesson in rattlers, ie, keep aware, give them their space, etc.  I was glad to see the two turn around and make their way back up.

West Ridge:

Top of the World:

The Profile:

Getting Over The Hump

I’ve been in a slump ever since I somehow managed to injure my shoulder.  Not sure how I did it, but I pretty much couldn’t move it on Monday.  Nursing my arm, icing it, applying heat, I wallowed in fear over my physical abilities for a couple days.  I watched athletic videos, growing more and more worried over whether I could get my act together and REALLY work.  I mean, push myself like a champion.  I feel like I can’t.  Though I have in other ways throughout my life, for example academically.  But never physically.  And that worries me in this whole training processes.

Today, I set my alarm early (AGAIN) and went out on the couch and went back to sleep (AGAIN).  My husband came out about 7:00 AM and asked why I wasn’t running.  I didn’t have anything positive to say.

He came out again at 8:00 AM and begged me to run, “Get back out there,” he said.  “Get over this hump.” 

I still lay there on the couch with no intention to run.  Then finally I couldn’t live with myself any longer worrying, worrying, worrying.  So, I raised myself up off the couch, dressed into some shorts, my Marine Hard Corps Marathon shirt, and trail shoes.  I grabbed a handheld full of water, got into my truck and arrived to Wood Canyon for a hilly, out-and-back run to the Top of the World in Laguna Beach

I made good time, though I found the run difficult.   Best thing for me was 1) I saw a rattlesnake, snapped a picture, then stomped the ground for it to coil so I could take another picture (but it quickly slithered away), and 2) I ran full-out the last hundred yards of this run.  That little ending sprint made me feel strong when I had been feeling so weak.

Socked-in at Top of the World this morning:

Meeting up with a Rattler on an unmarked single-track off of West Ridge:

6.36 miles run this morning (approx. 10.24 km)

Recovery

Recovery seems a blur now.  I couldn’t sleep much at all the first night after the SJT “50K.”  Every inch of my body ached.  My arms especially ached, so too did my calves.  A simple touch hurt.  I walked down stair steps sideways to avoid aches. 

I slept better the next day.  Monday after dropping the boys off at school, I slept until 1PM.  Every chance I got, I slept.  Every time I laid my head down my mind went through the race.  I found that pleasurable.  And then when I slept I dreamt strange or disturbing dreams, dreams of my life passing before my eyes, dreams of family members who have died, or dreams of running, running, never-ending-running. 

I didn’t even think of actually running those first two days after the race. Though I did some upper body weights, some hip and glute strengthening, a little foam rolling, even a bit of ab work. I kept wondering why my elbow hurt, then I’d remember the fall on that boulder. 

Tuesday, was EMO day – emotional wreck day.  My hubby said, “Recovery!”  Perhaps.  I went to work Tuesday so emotionally wrought it took great strength to put on “the act.”  I managed.  Then I got the call to sub a night class.  I took on that job with my eyes aching from sobbing.  Still, I was able to put on “the act.”  And glasses, they do wonders for sobbing eyes.  When I finally arrived home that night I went straight to bed.  (Does anyone else go through this emotional day after a huge race?) 

Today, Wednesday, was the day.  After dropping our boys off at school, I had the morning all to myself.  I set off for “sixish” “easyish” trail miles at about 10AM wearing my latest race t-shirt.  On my drive there, a bird (yes a bird!) flew into my windshield.  And the creature kind of flopped through the air toward the ground.  I thought I had probably killed it – I was travelling about 40 mph and add that to the bird’s momentum – I don’t know how it could survive.  I felt terrible. 

I continued on driving, determined to get in a trail run.  I wasn’t going to let a poor dead bird deter me.  And I don’t believe in omens.  I felt that if I didn’t get a run in today, I just may slide into a slump. 

This is how it went:  The weather was warm, almost hot as I ran down into Wood Canyon.  My shoes felt too tight.  I stopped twice to loosen the laces, questioning why my shoes would feel so odd.  I also felt sluggish, as if my legs weighed 50 pounds a piece.  I thought to myself, “What the heck am I doing?  Maybe I don’t want to be an endurance / trail runner anymore!”  (Sound familiar?  Does to me.  I go through this after almost every tough race.)

Then I hit the trails to the loud sound of a rattlesnake’s rattler.  I only caught a glimpse of its tail end.  I stood there on the trail with a male and female mountain biker, all of us trying to get a better glimpse, the guy attempting to get it to do some more rattling by beating the brush.  Then we started exchanging rattlesnake stories, and afterward, I set off, my legs still heavy, but my heart lightened by the trail.

I headed up Cholla Trail sweating profusely, not only because of the heat, but because of my recovery.   I always sweat much more than usual on my recovery runs.  I ran to the top of Cholla not thinking, but more feeling that I did want to be a trail runner after all.

A Quick Pose on West Ridge Trail (top of Cholla Trail):

Running Park Avenue Nature Trail for some Extra Elevation:

I made the trip up only slightly slower than usual.  I also spotted another snake in the distance crossing the trail.  Picking up my pace so that I could get a closer look, it slithered into the brush.  I got a close enough look at its tail end to know that it was not a rattlesnake.  Stopping for a minute, I searched the brush so that I could i.d. the critter.   It was a lovely, nice size garter snake.  I’d say at least 4 feet long.

I took the side trails for additional elevation.  Why?  Because I’m crazy.  Also, so that I could see the Pacific Ocean sooner than later.  But I couldn’t see the ocean at all.  Instead, I saw this – a lovely, “pillowy” soft-looking layer of clouds covering all that water:

Top of the World:

I ran back at a faster pace.  And I didn’t think about anything.  Nothing.  Nada.  I did hear the sound of shuffling feet behind me and I picked up my speed some on the uphills so that I could leave that runner behind me.  I wasn’t in the mood to let a runner pass me.  Usually I don’t have a choice.  But today, I could tell from the sound of his feet that the runner was tired, so I kicked it in (I know he was a “he,” because I peeked a glimpse behind me when I turned to run down Cholla). 

I didn’t get much mileage in today.  I didn’t get much training in today.  But I got some trails in today.  And that was lovely. 

I don’t even know how to do a recovery run. How long do you wait before running? How many miles do you run?    Ahh.  Who cares.  I got out today, finally, and ran trails again.  That’s really all that matters for this recovery run..

Retro Run

Hubby dropped me off in the coastal hills today.  I asked him before departing, should I run through the canyon and up Cholla?  Or should I go up Meadows?  He knows both of those trails, Cholla quite well. 

“Through the canyon,” he said.

“What????” I exclaimed.  (I wanted to climb and climb hard!!)

“You already know how to run hills.  You need to work on speed.”  True.  True.  He definitely knows what he speaks of.  But I love running hills.  I hate working on speed.  And I’m just not ready to get back to working on speed.  I promise myself that I will – just not yet. 

Today was a “retro-run.”  No, I wasn’t wearing Dolphins shorts, nor was I wearing Nike’s (that was the first running shoe I recall – though it was actually probably Adidas).  Today was a “retro-run” because I wore my husband’s ipod again.  And since I (we) grew up in the seventies (though he is OLDER than I ), I got to listen to lots of “old” music like I did on yesterday’s run.  And boy, did I enjoy myself.  I found myself actually acting goofy running up Meadows (and that’s quite a climb) as I ran “march-like” to the tunes of Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick.

“The Poet and the painter casting shadows on the water -- as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.

The do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other -- as the failing light illuminates the mercenary's creed.

The home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling -- but the master of the house is far away.”

Entering the House of Meadows (Oh No!!)

It all seems so innocent enough – lovely orange flowers growing along the trail’s edge. 

Last chance to look back as I cross bridge on Meadows Trail.  I pause to look over onto the dry creek bed (Yes, those are my feet : ) And that silvery thing on my laces is my identification.

Though much of the coastal grass in the meadows is brown, still, lovely spring flowers dot the climb up.

I didn’t see any runners on Meadows.  The trail was also void of hikers.  A mountain biker politely passed me on his way down.  I nearly jumped out of my shoes because I was so much in another world that I didn’t see him (good thing he wasn’t a rattlesnake!).  I apologized profusely for not noticing him ahead of time.  But he said, “no worries,” he had seen me from a ways up the hill.  (I need to run smarter than that – and usually I do, mostly anyway :)

At the top of Meadows Trail, I didn’t even pause to snap a photo.  I kept on running.  Running up the next incline (it was oh so tough), I met a hiker that said, “I’m impressed!” 

I love people with positive words.  I mean, I was struggling pretty well, and she said, “I’M IMPRESSED!”  Little phrases like that make a world of difference.  And I learn from little phrases like that, and try to pass them on.  I don’t always remember to pass them on, but hikers like this lady, without even knowing it, do a world of good helping me to remember.

At Top of the World I reward myself with coconut water

I finished my coconut water running up and down West Ridge Trail.  I felt high, giddy.  That’s what running up Meadows to Top of the World does to me.  (That’s what running to Top of the World does to me period, no matter the route). 

From there, I took Rock It Trail down.  After Sunday’s run down Horse Thief, I figured some technical downhill practice was a good idea. 

Rock It Trail -- trails like this gave me the bad habit of looking down.

At the end of Rock It, I took a right onto Coyote Trail run.  I knew I was going to be about ten minutes late meeting my husband.  I picked up my pace some, relishing the shady areas and quiet creek below. 

Out of the shade I suddenly heard the loudest unmistakable rattling.  You wouldn’t believe how loudly I could hear this rattler, even with headphones on (really, no need to take off headphones to hear a rattlesnake – though I don’t play the music super loud).  I knew the snake was extremely close, and that it was to my left.  There is no way I could mistake that rattling sound.  It doesn’t sound like a single other thing, except a rattlesnake!  I used to think cicadas were rattlers.  Their little creaking doesn’t even compare to a rattlesnake’s rattle. 

Upon hearing this, I didn’t really think.   Letting instinct take over, I simply ran as quickly as possible, to my right, AWAY FROM THE NOISE.  That of course lead me off trail into the dry grass.  I thought, “Oh great, I just ran into tick land and there’s probably another another rattler a few feet away!”  Mind you, this all occurred in about a half of a second.

Well, I flung off the earphones and the sunglasses and searched for the rattler.  Aha!  There she was, across the trail, rattling like mad, coiled up, prepped to strike. 

Well, they can only strike half their body length, so I crept on in and did a photo-op.  She looked REALLY pissed off.  So, I decided to stop the pictures and took off running (but be sure to scroll down for picture).  A couple minutes later, a mountain biker came up from behind.  We excitedly relayed our encounter with the rattler.  He was a little freaked out how close to the trail it was coiled up ready to strike.  “I like to give them their space,” he said.

So do I.

And then a few minutes later, I came across a hiker.  He was wearing full length sweats with a zipper sweat-shirt to match, chatting on the cell phone (I can rarely get service in the canyon).  I said, “There’s a rattlesnake off the trail a bit back.”   He seemed annoyed with me and said, “I’ve seen them before!”

Hmph.  Just trying to be helpful.  Well, actually he would have heard her.  I just wanted to talk, I guess. : )  Seeing a rattler close up and personal excites me a little. 

I ran strong all the way in.  Thirteen minutes late I was, according to my husband.  He was not amused.  But then again, he hadn’t made the trip to our son’s school from that park EVER.  And I knew we had plenty of time.  I told him “No worry,” and for some odd reason, he didn’t believe me.  And I swear, he drove slowly on purpose (really, though, he’s a swell guy : ).  Still, we made it in plenty of time to pick up our cheerful kindergartner and his friend.  All was well.   I don’t know about the snake though. 

Miles run today:  11

ps.  I bought a new ipod shuffle today.  Thankfully, they are not that expensive.

Time To Run Again

I rested Sunday.   Monday I visited the gym and cycled for 17+ miles, did some core work.  Wanting to gradually get back into it, I rested again Tuesday, then back to the gym I went on Wednesday for about 6 miles on the elliptical, weight training and more core work. 

Today, came the day to run again.  Due to time constraints I ran this 9.5 mile loop at Aliso Wood Canyons, the one I’ve been timing lately:

I felt fatigued early on and thought maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.  The weather was quite hot and the wind blew at my face.  Thankfully, the wind was cool.  But it was still the kind that chaps your skin.  I hit Meadows Trail a couple minutes late.  But then as I began running that climb, I felt amazed at my strength.  Still, that sun blared down and the wind continued to blow at my face.  Nearing the top, I glanced at the garmin to see that I still ran a couple minutes behind.

I kicked it up some heading toward the trail marker at the top.  Grass grew waist high in the meadows at my side.  And then, as my feet pounded harder toward that trail marker, I glanced down.  There was something stretched across the trail, something as long as my arm span. 

I didn’t really think the following, I more like felt it in my mind in the SPLIT SECOND that it occurred.  Is that a snake?  Why, yes it is?  A rattler?  Becoming disoriented, I couldn’t quite figure which was his tail end as I searched for rattles, when suddenly my mind felt, remember, not thought, “Why the hell are you looking for rattles?”

At that instant, the same instant that the snake coiled up, I ran backward as fast as I could.  Faster than I would have imagined I had the energy to run (and backward to boot!)  I didn’t not stop until I was probably five times his striking distance.  That snake had whipped itself into a coil so amazingly fast, I’m very fortunate that I backed off not a second later. 

He stayed like that in the middle of the trail, his head high, poised to strike.  His rattle was unbelievably loud.  I took a couple steps closer (still safely far away) to snap a picture.  Then I phoned my husband, because I just had to tell someone about this amazing sight.  He could hear the snake’s rattles over the phone!

Well, that dang snake stayed there for quite some time.  There was no way to run past it, except to run through the grass.  And last thing I wanted was a tick latching on.  And so I waited.  And I waited, until I eventually called off my “timed” run.  Several minutes later, my rattling friend uncoiled and slithered off into the grass.  I ran past when I could still see his tail.  I wanted to be absolutely sure I could still see his tail when I finally made my trip to the ridge.  I wanted to be sure he didn’t turn around coil up, and wait there for me.

The Snake I Almost Stepped On About To Slither Off Into The Meadow

Well, let me tell you!  That little event sure awakened me.  Though this was no longer a timed run (it shouldn’t have been anyway, I should have planned a nice and easy recovery run), I couldn’t have felt more alive and excited after the ordeal.  I ran along the ridge feeling elated.  I ran all the way back in, joyfully, full of the running spirit that I sometimes lose, and reassured that rattler season is here, and that I should never stop looking.

Miles logged today:  9.5

Moments After Running Past The Snake

Spotting Snakes

I didn't want to run this morning, especially not hills. I did anyway. Why? Because, I ran flat easy miles on Tuesday, and I'm planning on runs Saturday and Sunday. So, today was the only day to fit it in -- I don't want to run Friday, because that would make runs three days in a row. I'm a two-day-max-in-a row-runner (so fearful I am of injury.)

Aliso/Wood Canyons wilderness park has five trails that lead directly to the top. 1) Meadows, 2) Mathis, 3) Rock-It, 4) Lynx and 5) Cholla. It's difficult to say which is hardest to run. Different days I'd give you different answers. Today, I didn't want to run up Cholla, because that meant a 4 1/2 mile run to even get to Cholla. And I wasn't much in the mood for Meadows and its steep, steep switchback. Rock-It didn't sound too bad -- less mileage than Cholla to arrive at. But Rock-It actually leads away from Top of the World, which means some back tracking. I WAS NOT INTERESTED IN BACK TRACKING.  And Lynx was out of the question, first because I might as well run all the way to Cholla (which is easier to run up), and secondly it leads in the wrong direction too! The run from the ranger station to Mathis is approximately 2 1/2 miles.  And so Mathis it was. And tough it was. Sunny, hot, sweaty tough. 

As I ran up Mathis, not having a good time at all, I simply thought to myself, "It'll be over, it'll be over." And QUITE SOME TIME LATER . . . it was.

And then the fun began. Overlooking a brilliantly blue Pacific, I ran along Top of the World, still a little sluggish. But things were beginning to look beautiful. I headed down Meadows feeling a lot better than when I started off. And pretty much right away, I spotted a Rattler slowly slithering his way across the trail. He didn't even seem to notice me as I stopped abruptly in my tracks. I got a good look at that rattle as it disappeared into the mustard seed plants, and I was off running again.

By now everything was definately beautiful. The hills were green. Mustard seed added a colorful zing. And I had spotted a rattlesnake before he spotted me! I'm not too fearful of rattlers -- just as long as I see it FIRST. I also have a game plan, which lessens my fear a bit. My plan, should I have the misfortune of getting bit by a rattler is to stay put. I read that exerting energy makes the poison travel faster through your body. My plan is to calmy sit, preferably in the shade. I have the Ranger's station number programmed into my phone, so I will call them first because I figure they can help me fastest. Then I can call 911. Hopefully I never have to use this plan. I'll just keep my eyes open and keep looking so that I'll see the rattlers first.

I met another snake at the base of Meadows.  I stopped in my tracks to watch it slither across the road.  It had the same rich, deep brown colorings of the rattler.  But this one wasn't fat like the one up the hill.  And its tailend went to a small point, no rattler.  It was a gopher snake.  And he too slithered off into the mustard -- that is first after looking at me, sticking his head into a gopher hole, and then basking in the hot sun for just a bit.

Miles logged this morning:  9.08