The COVID19 Disruption

March 26 was the last time I hit the trails. I think that I didn't blog it because I'm too sentimental about it. To write a blog post means to miss my old life. My life before the COVID19 pandemic. And I don't really want to think about it. I don't want to think about the medicine that I've been missing since shelter-in-place was ordered. (It makes me sad; I'd rather not be sad.)

The last day I drove to work was Thursday, March 13 -- my last day of teaching before spring break. It was raining. We were in strange times, masks and gloves on about a quarter of the people on campus, but malls were still open, as were bars and restaurants. Still on that last day on campus, March 13, I was so naive to how things were going to drastically change. I remember it was cold, and I was wet from the rain even though I had an umbrella. The mood about campus was anxious. I filled my truck with gas a couple days after that. More than a month later, I still have a half tank. In my old life, I filled my tank about every 5 days. Now, I work from home, recording lectures and holding a computer "lab" online. I no longer drive 50 to 60 miles a day. 

My husband has worked from the home office for years now. And other than not having to drive the boys to their stuff in the afternoon, his life has not changed much. My parents' lives have not changed as well, but most everyone I know, my 3 sons, a freshman and senior in high school, and a junior in college, included are experiencing a major disruption.  

I have not been having that great of a time working from home, especially with trails out of reach. This is not to say that I don't enjoy all this extra time with my family. I do. It's wonderful, and there are lots of great talks and strolls around the yard. But my classroom is my kitchen. And there are unique challenges to Zoom lectures and email correspondence. To top that, the first week home my computer crashed. I had to purchase a new one, which was not in the budget. A few weeks later, my iphone was stolen out of my purse while I shopped for groceries. That hurt.

People are anxious. I am anxious. On the good side, as of now, everyone in my family, both immediate and extended are well. California has been on "shelter-in-place" since March 20. The moods have been tense since. At first, we were allowed to take hikes in the mountains and bike rides and such on the beach. Eventually, all those options have been shut down. I stopped hiking well before the local governments and forest service made it impossible by closing down roads, parking lots and trail heads. I have not hit the trails for nearly 4 weeks! I've had some small walk-abouts in the neighborhood. But that's it. And this is my greatest suffering point. It would help me a good deal to have the medicine that satisfying wanderlust amply provides. I don't have it; I look elsewhere for refuge.  Some good and some not so good.  I have since washed all the hardwood floors of our beach shack and then moved onto shampooing carpets (they were disgusting.)  I washed the walls, the bookshelves and cabinets. I weeded the planters and washed out the bird feeders (Oh, did they need it!). I began purging papers from the office/library. I haul out a garbage bag full every week. I really have neglected these things for so long, it's shameful. Normally, I'd go for a hike and process that with a positive note. I haven't processed my neglect with a positive note yet.

I suppose to remedy the minor existential crises this shelter-in-place order brought on, I force myself every day to make my surroundings better.  I cut flowers in the backyard for a kitchen bouquet. I have the boys sweep the porches and mow the lawns. I prune plants and remove wilted Calla Lily, Camilla and Birds of Paradise blooms. I feel oddly driven to do these things. I am driven to do them because it covers up how I feel that I'm failing intellectually, physically and spiritually right now. I've assigned myself some exercises. Not physical exercises (where I am drastically lacking), but instead intellectual and spiritual exercises. Aside from beautifying my surroundings, I began reading (once my great love) -- one book of fiction and the other non-fiction. Every morning I begin with my reading (and a cup of coffee). And after that, I make my bed. 

I have done all these things to try and substitute the medicine that trails provide (which too, is only a temporary remedy to the anxious-spiritually-struggling life that I keep finding myself at). I have always had this need to feel that I am moving forward. Shelter-in-place is perhaps as close as you can get to the opposite of moving forward, thus the manic reaction to beautifying my surroundings at home. There is a lot of beauty here at home too. Aside from the small little seaside yard and a peek of the ocean from the front porch, there's my family. It's good to be with them. (Though I still await seeing my oldest son who is in Ventura County.) I guess that I am rambling now, and really should get back to the purpose of this blog overall -- trails.

So, back to  my original intent for this post, it was March 26, as I have already mentioned and we were 6 days into shelter-in-place, but exercise was clearly allowed and even encouraged. I had read that amenities and parking lots would be closed at Aliso/Woods Canyons but that the trails would be open. Lack of parking lot has never stopped me. And so, I set out in the late morning, to a lesser known entrance to Aliso/Woods. Turned out, the city of Laguna Beach had closed all trail heads in the city, and I had to sneak into the park (which was open). It was not difficult by the way to sneak in. The person patrolling the closed trail heads, (I heard a city volunteer) had driven away by the time I made it to Meadows trail head, and by the time she returned, I was already well into the park (but I am fairly certain she had to have seen me from her vantage point upon return).

I hiked more than 10 miles, beginning in Moulton Meadows Park, down Meadows Trail to Wood Canyon, Cholla, West Ridge and Top of the World. At first, the trails were empty and I began to doubt the legality of my presence.  But once in Wood Canyon, I counted thirty or more hikers, runners and bikers over a 5 or 6 mile stretch. The park mind you is 4,500 acres, so even with 30 plus people, I had much time alone. About three-quarters into Wood Canyon I hiked off trail to the ladies room in a wooded area. And there in the deep shade, I stumbled upon a bob cat who froze for a second and promptly took off further into the brush. Back on the trail, about a 1/4 mile later, I spun around abruptly with hunch I was being followed. Sure enough, I spied a coyote trotting in my direction! Once he realized I had stopped, he was off the other way.

My last hike was a lovely one and much needed. When I arrived to Alta Laguna Park, I found myself fenced in and had to climb out. A few others were doing the same. The road was crowded with cars since the lots were locked shut. There were were a couple of police squad cars driving about, and city workers were posting "No Parking" signs. I enjoyed my last couple of miles back to my truck like I would a last cookie. I knew this would be my last hike in a while. As I made my way back down into the park, near Meadows trail, I could see the city truck patrolling the area right in my path, "I'm in for it," I thought and plugged forward ready to face the music. But the truck thankfully, had just driven off before I arrived. I was relieved to not have a confrontation. I haven't been out since, and that is not a good thing. Who knows though, maybe in the long run, it will be.

A View of Saddleback Mountains from top of Meadows Trail, Laguna Beach

View of the Pacific Ocean, Near West Ridge (Laguna Beach)

Looking down onto Meadows Trail, Aliso Viejo

 

 10.41 miles, 1,731 ft of elevation gain

Empty Grocery Shelves & An Order To Social Distance

This past Tuesday, March 17, we got another break in rains. We were not in a statewide shelter-in-place order yet, but practically everything had closed down: schools, libraries, bars, dine-in restaurants, theaters, gyms, sports, concerts, etc. From what I see around me, no one is in a panic -- no one I talk to, none of my family members. But there is a lot of public discourse if you have any of the apps or belong to your community's social media pages. People are posting angrily and want everyone to stay inside of their homes. Hunker down! On Tuesday, "Social Distancing" was the order of the day -- that is don't meet in groups, publicly or privately, and stay at least 6 feet from one another outside of your family. I thought local mountains were the perfect place of course, to social distance myself. 

I decided to take drive up Santiago Canyon Road and turn off into Modjeska Canyon. That took about thirty minutes. I was aiming for a shortish hike, so I was in no rush and could enjoy the drive -- I found it calming. I parked off to the side of the road along Modjeska Grade, which was a short uphill distance (about 1/4 mi) away from Santiago Truck Trail. It's an asphalt hike to the trail head with this gorgeous view overlooking the homes off of Modjeska Grade and Santiago Canyon Rd:

Santiago Truck Trail (STT) is the perfect trail when I want short distance (as in about 7 miles). Of course, STT is good for long distances too, as there's Joplin Trail and Old Camp off Yonder! It's a beautiful trail and it never gets old. My heart sang on Tuesday the moment my feet hit the dirt. I  was very much in the mood to toughen it up and didn't hesitate to take the higher, more difficult single track that backbones up above Santiago Truck Trail.  What gorgeous views!

Meeting back up with STT the views did not disappoint. I took it to the flags across from the vulture crags. It's mainly uphill on the way out, except for this one grand sweeping downhill that meets up with The Luge Trail. There were no more than a half dozen mountain bikers over those 7+ miles (but I really think the number was more like 4). Either way, STT was a tranquilizer, and a easy pill to swallow at that. What a contrast it was up there to what's going on down here. Up there (on Santiago Truck trail) there's beauty surrounding. There's majesty. There's history. There's respect. What a great escape to what's going on down here. Down here, need I say, there's a disruption, a major disruption. There's empty grocery shelves and an order to social distance.

STT never gets old. And I think it even gets better in the midst of a pandemic. 

7.12 miles, 1,409' elevation gain.

Social Distancing

Social Distancing

With my teaching assignments going online, and my children all off from school (2 youngest @ home and oldest still in college dorm), life has been altered (quite disrupted) to say the least. All events, rehearsals, lessons, everything has been cancelled. The state of California and much of the nation (as well as the world) is practicing "social distancing." No longer do I need to wake by 7:00 am to get my boys off to school. No longer do I drive 60 miles a day. Nowadays, I try to sleep in as late as I can possibly stand it (which is between 8:00 and 9:00 am). I feel like I need the rest. Most of the businesses in my town are closed and with the off and on rain, the streets most days are empty. The shelves in the groceries stores are empty as well. Every single store. It’s an odd thing. Surreal. I’ve never experienced anything like it.

We are not in a literal “shelter-in-place,” though there’s cities in San Francisco County that are, and probably even more areas in California by now too. In my county, there’s an order against gathering publicly or privately. Church services are cancelled. Bars and restaurants (except for take out) are closed. Gyms are closed. Theaters are closed. It’s a screeching grinding halt to the economy. We can’t find grocery essentials (like toilet paper, eggs and rice), but on the other hand, I just paid $2.85 a gallon to fill up my gas tank. I can’t remember when fuel has been that low. It's been years. 

On the 16th (Monday, the first day of my official “spring break”), we got a break in the rain. Much to to my surprise, I was living my spring break in a surreal world. I knew that I needed to get out and put some miles beneath my feet. (I believe my husband even pleaded with me to do so 😅) But I didn't feel like it; in fact, I dreaded it. I watched the weather reports, and they said rain, rain, rain for the next several days. And here I was on March 16 with a break in the rain. I felt I just couldn’t chance it. I feared that I may not see another break in the rain for a while. So, I took off locally, with pavement beneath my feet (and a new pair of road running shoes -- yay!). My left foot injury felt very faint, and it fared no worse, I am grateful to say, from this run. Even though I dreaded it, within 15 seconds of my feet hitting the ground, I was glad to be out pounding pavement. My spirit felt lighter. I don't think I enjoyed the running as much as I enjoyed the freedom. Running does that; it breaks the chains between you and everything that is. Running down Pacific Coast Highway toward the ocean gave me something else to focus on, something other than the coronavirus (COVID 19). All of that was kept at bay. And that was lovely!  

What started out as a 5 mile out-and-and back to where the sidewalk ends in Capistrano Beach, grew as I made my way back through Doheny Beach. The weather was perfect, the clouds were majestic and awesomely eerie at times.  I ran through the campgrounds which had just a few campers. There were a couple of other runners out. A few people strolled about on the sand. After making my way back through Doheny Beach where I would have normally made my way back to Pacific Coast Highway, I decided to head on off to the jetty to get a good look over at the marina, a spot that I always enjoy taking in. 

After running out to the jetty and back, I was already at about 6 miles in my run, and I thought, well, heck, push it to 7 and see how that feels. By the time I hit 7 miles, I was so close to 10, in my warped mind, that I thought heck, just do three more miles -- you can do that! 

And I did. And the land and skies out before me were beautiful. It was a tiresome journey for sure. And I didn't quite come in at 10 miles. My sports watch AmazFit read 9.61 miles, but uploaded to Strava, the data read 9.5 miles. Either way, I had no more energy to run around the block a couple times (like the old days) to make sure I hit the intended mileage. 😂 9.5 or 9.61 was good enough for me. Left foot is still a little sore, but I don't think that I re-injured it. I think I will try and stay off the pavement for a bit, just to be safe. 

"Baby Beach" in the Dana Point Harbor pictured left, during what is Spring Break 2020 for many. I know many local community apps and social media pages are showing pictures of groups of teens gathering publicly, and there's been quite a bit of discourse on these matters. This is what I saw. Barely a person around. A few runners here and there. A couple people on the sand, a couple eating a Jon's Fish Market (this was before the restaurant closures). A few people at the wharf. A few people in Turk's Bar. That was about it. We are "social distancing".