Let 2015 Begin

We got a cold winter storm here in California last week. The snow level was down to one-thousand feet. 1000 feet! I didn’t get out to the trails until three days after the storm (Friday). And I chose Trabuco Canyon since I wouldn’t have to do any mountain driving. Pretty safe choice, or so I thought.

About a mile into the canyon I spotted snow at the sides of the road. And about a half mile later, the shady road turned icy. Well, I was determined to make the five mile drive into Holy Jim. But somewhere around mile 3, my tires started spinning and I found myself stuck in a rut before a large boulder on the ice. After attempting to drive out of the small whole and up over the rock, I decided to exit the truck to see to survey the situation. I could see that if I backed out of the rut, and cut the wheel sharply to the left avoiding the boulder up front, I would hit a patch of dirt. This I did, and continued driving slowly onward on that sloped canyon road. Very soon, I saw a truck driving toward me. The driver hung his head out as he passed and said, “Be careful in there – we had to turn back because it was too icy.”

I REALLY wanted to get to the Holy Jim lot. But quite quickly, I decided that this was not a very smart move. The mountain sides covered in snow, the road was pretty much solid ice and slanted in a direction that if I slid, I’d slide right off the road into Trabuco Creek. Last thing I wanted to do was hike back out of the canyon for cell reception to call for help. Hubby would not be happy.

And so, I began the harrowing task of turning my truck around on the ice. The road is thin, and being icy, made it even more difficult to turn around. I also had another problem. Turning the truck around put me nearly face forward with a giant ice puddle. Now, when I drove in, I hugged the mountain side of this puddle, avoiding it completely. But now, I could not get my car back to that side of the road – the space was too tight and too slippery.

So, I just sat there with my car perpendicular to the road, trying to think up a plan when two men came hiking up. “What do I do?” I asked the gentlemen. One of them had blood dripping down from his knee from a fall on the ice. He told me get the truck in the lowest gear then turn my wheel a little to the left. I followed his instructions. "A little more to the left he said." And then, "Now, just drive and momentum will get you through the puddle.” With no other options, I drove, with my wheel turned as directed I went down into the side of the puddle on the far edge, and then back up on the other end.

Whew! I drove back to the closest lot, parked and pushed in the emergency brake. And as I sat there prepping for some outside time, my truck began sliding. Turned off and with the brake on! Determined to get out there, I started the my truck back up and drove further out of the canyon, found a flat spot in the snow, parked, and with my heavy coat hiked back into the canyon. 

I hiked back to the Holy Jim lot, saving myself from a spill on the ice many times.  During my hike back out, cars were sliding all over the road, ice chips and rocks flying at my legs.  Eventually, I figured I would be safer off the road, so I hiked down to the creek and made my way back to the truck slushing through the snow all by myself.  (2.31 miles hiked)

A nice flat place to park:

Tuesday, I made it back to the trails for a 10.63 mile run in Aliso / Wood Canyons that kicked my ass.  Yup.  Chewed me up and spit me out.  

Let 2015 begin!

A coyote bolts off the trail that I’m stumbling upon:

Setting the Clock Back to Zero

Welcome 2013. It’s nice to meet ya!

I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions.  I like to look back, but only briefly.  And I like to look forward, but not too far – it freaks me out, makes me anxious.  What I do like is starting over, setting back my running log to ZERO.  I REALLY like starting over.  Monday has always been “start over day” for me.  But in reality, every single day is start over day (in that sense, every single hour is start over hour, every second is start over second.)  A new year though, brings out the strongest sense of a new beginning. Starting a new running spreadsheet with zero recorded, really makes that hit home.   I feel I have a blank slate, not only with running, but in life.  I have more lessons to learn, opportunities to grow.

This morning I woke for the first run of the year.  It took me five days to get out a run in 2013 because we are still in “celebration” mode here.  The boys are on Christmas vacation, as am I.  We took in a few hikes, some good food, etc.  It seemed so long since I ran, it almost felt like I wasn’t a runner.  Nah.  I knew all I had to do was get those feet moving and I’d be on my way up the mountain.  That’s how I did it this morning, one foot in front of the other, up Maple Springs Road, then The Main Divide to Modjeska Peak, for an 18+ mile out-and-back.  And what an adventure it was.  The mighty mountain taught me a few lessons, and beat me up quite a bit in the process.

What fun!

The run up Maple Springs Road was lonely and beautiful.  It was cold, with spots of snow here and there.  The creek ran slightly heavier than usual.  I bundled up to keep warm, wearing two pairs of shorts, two warm shirts, a beanie and gloves, plus my new compression socks which surprisingly do a terrific job keeping my legs warm. 

A pristine creek crossing on Maple Springs:

Admiring moss covered rock along the way:

Very quickly, the road filled with snow and ice.  At first it wasn’t thick, but it was tremendously icy.  I learned almost immediately to run the trail edges, to stay in the white stuff.

white stuff (fluffy snow):  good

white stuff (chunky snow or with vegetation poking through):  good

Slushy mud: okay

ice:  bad, very bad

black ice:  (that is clear ice that you can’t tell is ice):  downright evil!

I met three mountain bikers making their way up Maple Springs.  One of them rode right up.  The other two struggled as I did, slipping and sliding, finding our way to make it through the terrain.  Two dirt bikers also passed by, and one of them slid so closely to me, I fretted for a second he was going to run me over, perhaps knock me off the mountain.

Gradually, more mountain bikers made their way up, the majority struggling.  And gradually I got my groove, having slipped several times, I made pretty good time “staying in the white.”  That is running in the fluffy snow that lined the trail’s edge.  Sometimes that meant running along the cliff, other times up against the mountain wall.  

I nearly made “Four Corners” injury free.  And then it happened.  I can’t recall exactly what occurred.  But I do know that I slipped.  And then I fell.  My previously injured right wrist slammed into the ice, as did my right butt cheek.  On impact I slid haphazardly down the road, stopping when I hit the white fluffy stuff.    I pushed myself up, brushed off the snow  and continued running up to “Four Corners,” which was full of mountain bikers, and empty of snow.

With only a mile and a half to Modjeska Peak, I figured I’d be running down in no time.  I fretted a little over going back down Maple Springs.  But my feet soon forgot that fret since I was now running on dirt, glorious dirt toward The Main Divide. 

It wasn’t long on The Main Divide when I hit snow again, ICY snow.  I’d run along, then the “white” would end and I’d need to run across a patch of dirt or carefully maneuver across ice to get to the fluffy white stuff.  I struggled, to say the least!

Eventually a man ran ran down The Main Divide toward me.  He must have seen the distress in my face, as this was all he said, “Stay in the white!!!”  Believe me.  I already knew that.  (But not well enough!)

I came across more mountain bikers on The Main Divide, some of them verbally worrying about the trip to Santiago Peak.  I phoned my husband (yes I got reception!) and I continued with one foot in front of the other, RUNNING.  A slow run, yes, but running nonetheless. 

Though only a mile and a half to Modjeska Peak from “Four Corners”,  I was alone for a long time.  A half mile distance probably took me fifteen to twenty minutes.  And then suddenly and surprisingly two other runners ran down The Main Divide toward me.  What a surprise!  We chatted trails together, exchanged names, and turned out, I knew one of them.   I am “virtual” friends with Self Inflicted.  Imagine that, we meet on a snowy mountain on a cold winter morning, seemingly in the middle of nowhere (funny thing is, I saw Self Inflicted’s run posted on Facebook and thought, “Too bad the meeting place is so far away, else I’d probably go.”)  Funny. 

Self Inflicted and Eric:

After departing Self Inflicted and Eric, the snow and ice thickened a great deal.  I ran down the middle “in the white stuff” when it ended, I found my way to more fluffy snow.  But due to a second’s loss of focus (YES, A SECOND!) I found myself running on black ice.  BAM!  My left knee slammed into that ice so hard, the first thing that crossed my mind was BROKEN KNEE CAP.  The solid smooth black ice broke and tore at my skin, drawing blood.  Instantly after the knee impact, my left wrist slammed down, allowing the ice to tear a chunk of skin off my palm. 

I could not move for a moment.  I had to get my “wits,” get some air back into my lungs.  Laying there on the ground I saw several mountain bikers slipping their way uphill, one of them straight toward me.  “I can’t move,” I said to him.  He continued heading straight toward me.  I didn’t realize that he couldn’t control his direction.  “I can’t move,” I said again (I really could not), but then realized that was moot.  I kind of slithered to the side as he slowed and made his way by me.  Several other cyclists came up behind him, all asking if I was okay.  I said that I just needed to get my “wind.”  But I stood up anyhow, so that they could see and be on their way without worry. 

Surprisingly, I was able to walk with minimal pain.  And even more surprisingly, I ran the last quarter or mile or so to Modjeska Peak.

Modjeska Peak was under direct sunlight and void of snow.  Santiago Peak from a far looked snowless, but I knew that trail up was shady and would be icy and snow filled as well.   I ran to the edge of Modjeska, past the small cluster of towers and took in the majestic views as a Sheriff’s helicopter hovered above.

View of Santiago Peak from Modjeska Peak:

Some self-portraits from Modjeska:

I headed back down The Main Divide cautiously, but confident.  Mountain bikers making their way up, questioned me about the terrain, and I honestly told them, “It’s icy, it’s difficult.”  Some of them turned around.  Some of them made the trek.  And some of them made the trek to turn around a little later and meet me on the way down.

I met some more familiar faces from today’s adventure at “Four Corners.”  They headed down Harding Truck Trail on their mountain bikes, and I ran onward down Maple Springs.  I was an expert at running this snowy ice by now.  Don’t get me wrong.  I wasn’t cocky.  I ran yes, but I was cautious, and I focused. When I ran the snow-free, sunny part of the mountain I experienced pure joy.  What would have normally been hard was a relief.  And I thought, “Isn’t this just how life is?  You go through the hard parts, then later, other times don’t seem so tough.” 

With about 4 miles remaining, my knee ached pretty badly.  I didn’t want to take any ibuprofen however (for reasons that I may or may not bore you with later).  With about three miles remaining, hikers making their way up began asking me (again and again, seriously) “How far til the end?????” 

I thought to myself, “The end?  Where’s the end?”  I didn’t want to be a smart ass, so I asked, “The end of the paved road?”  They would say “Yes,” and I looked at my garmin and told them with a smile.  And as I ran that terribly long last couple miles in, I lamented on where’s  the end?  Is it “Four Corners?”  Is it Modjeska Peak?  Santiago Peak?  Ortega Highway? Heck you could keep going around the world and end up exactly where you’re at, and that’s the end.  When the last couple (a man and woman) asked me how much longer until the end, I had the urge to respond, “You are at the end.  You are at the beginning and at the end.” But I did not respond such.  Instead, I glanced at my garmin and told them, “two miles.” 

TIPS:  Where to run in snow & ice . . .

In this picture, don’t dare take a step on the sides of the shot, run right down the middle:

The middle of the road may look safe, but beware – it’s ice.  Run the far edges here:

Don’t even touch that brown snowy stuff on the left, it may be slushy, which is okay, but you are bound to hit a patch of ice, and down you will go!  Run the right.

Stay in the white fluffy stuff:

Do not even step on this stuff (background toward edge is okay), but the rest will send you flying!:

Again, the white fluffy stuff, that is key:

Happy New Year!!

Closing In

I’m closing in on 2,012 miles for the year.  I’m getting a little beat-up and battered from falls, and I’m not dropping any pounds from the body.  BUT gosh darn it, I’m gonna hit that mileage goal.  And I’m having fun doing it.

It stormed all day yesterday.  Several runners dropped out of today’s scheduled group run for a 17 mile loop in Silverado Canyon.   Four adventurous runners did join me however, for a beautiful loop up Maple Springs Road to Four Corners, along the Main Divide, down Silverado Motorway back to Maple Springs.

The run was delightful.  Snow covered the ground in some places.  In other places, we slipped about on ice. I eventually fell on “black” ice and screamed like a little girl.  Seriously, like a little girl.  I was more stunned than anything else, and a little worried about my sunglasses as they crashed to the hard ice.

Views while climbing Maple Springs (a 7.5 mile ascent):

Time to celebrate at Four Corners:

Left to right:  Me, Janine, Hank, Dave, Conrado:

Moving on along The Main Divide:

Every time I run this loop (which is seldom), I’m always confused just when the Motorway trailhead is going to spring upon us.  It’s like that, suddenly there.  But until then, we’ve got climb after climb, plus some lovely down hills for several miles before we get there.  I think I told everyone today at least 3 times, maybe more (doh!) that “it’s just around the corner.”  New running friend Janine joked, “You say that one more time, I’m going to throw you off the mountain.” 

I hollered with joy when we finally reached The Motorway.  From there it was all downhill (except for that one little hill – LOL).  I took up the rear as usual, then got caught further behind when I needed to duck into the bushes.  Then, as I raced down trying to catch the group, I ate it BIG TIME.  When I say “big time,” I don’t mean that I was terribly hurt.  But I couldn’t fall and roll, which would have meant a lighter impact, for fear that I’d roll right off that single track and off the mountain.  Instead, I hit sprawled-out, face down, landing first on my wrists, then my knees.  I also remember my left elbow slammed down to the ground.  The impact was hard and it jolted me a bit.  Fortunately, I recovered fairly quickly and was off again, my ankle slightly aching from a roll as I went down.

Overall, today’s run was fantastic – great company, scenic views, chilly weather.  A true delight!

Running down the Silverado Motorway:

+4,386 / -4,409’

Running in a Winter Wonderland : )

Big storm in Southern California this weekend, and I hadn’t run since Wednesday.  Rain always close the local coastal trails, and hubby didn’t want me running mountain trails alone.  I agreed with him on this one.  Last thing I want to do is get injured and trapped in the mountains during a cold winter storm.  Then my break came, I got to tag along with running friend Jeremy into the mountains on a buddy-system run. 

So, at 6:00 AM, I poured my coffee into a thermos, ran out to the truck and headed off in the wind and the rain toward Silverado Canyon.  I nearly choked on my coffee laughing over what I was doing.  I had turn my wipers onto its highest speed for goodness sake, and here I was driving to the mountains for a run.

The right lane on the freeway was flooded.  And on the shoulder, squad car lights spun in the dark where over the railing a car lay on its side.  The rain stopped after several miles.  And I was glad to see runners on the road, someone actually running up Santiago Canyon (crazy!), and a Maple Springs Trailhead lot with a few other cars.

We took off in the cold, lonely canyon, UPHILL on pavement, gingerly crossing streams to keep our feet dry.  At times, we had to walk up or down the stream a bit to find a good crossing. 

Snow appeared early on.  First it was in clumps alongside the trail here and there.  Then the gaps began to fill in and we were running in slushy snow eager for the dirt road.  Of course, the dirt road wasn’t a dirt road at all, it was a beautiful snow blanketed road with a single pair of foot prints, hiking boots, making its way up.   

We got some light rain.  We got some light snow and some light hail.  We also got plenty of wind.  Suddenly those hiking boot tracks ended and we were on our own making our way to “Four Corners.”   Up ahead lay an awesome blanket of perfect snow – below, clouds and mist.  It was very difficult to traverse that trail uphill in the snow.  Yet, it was also extremely beautiful.  I felt an overwhelming urge to lay right down in it.  Beneath the snow, the darker portions, travelled a stream of water, where we learned quickly not to step.  Stepping here meant a foot slammed down in slushy water.  The things you learn on a snowy run. 

Eventually I found that if I ran behind Jeremy, I could step into his footprints, making it much easier physically to climb Maple Springs Road.  Fortunately, I have big enough feet that we switched off here and there using each other’s footprints to lighten the struggle.  Nearing the top, I finally heard voices, then suddenly four or five runners and two dogs made their way toward us.  “You guys got rocks in your head?” one of the male runners asked.  Very cool to see other runners out there on the mountain.

The wind blew strongly at “Four Corners.”  It was cold, cold, cold, so cold, I could hardly set up a “group” photo.  My camera wouldn’t stand upright on the iced gate post and even blew off the post once.  Finally I was able to run to the railing in time for one unfocused picture of two crazy runners who ran up Maple Springs this morning.

The run down was delightful, though cold.  I gave in and finally purposely fell into the snow simply because I just wanted to see what it would feel like.  It felt cold.  My pack on my back prevented me from making a snow angel.  And that’s when I got snow IN my shoes.  My feet were soaked by now.  When we reached the canyon, we didn’t take our time crossing the streams.  Instead, we merely plowed right through them eager for the warmth of our trucks. 

Except for a tiny piece of mild frostbite on my ankle (which feels like a burn), I made it through this adventure unscathed.  I’m so grateful for a running buddy so that I could experience this winter wonderland.  Extremely grateful too that my family put up with me going out for my morning run which lasted more than a few hours.

 Jeremy running up Maple Springs Road (about mile 3):

A little less than mile 4:

Still climbing:

And climbing some more:

Quick pose at “Four Corners”:

Heading back down:

Me with iced hair:

Miles logged:  14.80 (23.82 km)