An Extended Fast (& finally a hike!)

I wish it wasn’t so hot, and it’s not even that hot! But it is for me. So heat sensitive I am in my older years (though I’m still in my fifties), I’ve been off the trails much of August. Just ten years ago I was exploring trails in 105 F degree weather. Right now it’s in the low 80s at most on the Southern California coast. Just a few miles inland the temperatures climb double digits. I walk here and there around town, and it’s lovely, but it’s also the middle of summer which means this seaside town is crowded with tourists. I’d rather stay more to myself these days. We are after all, still in a pandemic.

Last week I felt that the time was right for an extended fast. It had been a while, and so I was excited leading up to it. My eagerness was similar to anticipating an ultramarathon or a long difficult hike. I felt excited because I knew that I was going to come out of it a little more grounded and a little more focused on what’s really important. But at the same time, just like with ultramarathons, or long difficult hikes, I felt some anxiety – anxiety because I knew that the feat takes some suffering – it’s kind of a joyful suffering really (just like with ultras or crazy difficult terrain). But suffering is suffering, whether or not it’s joyful, it’s hard.

The first 24 hours of the fast was relatively easy, as it is usually (because I’ve practiced). The first day is a day of excitement, a day I begin a journey. It’s like a fresh start. It’s also like a day of reckoning, a day where I focus on prayer, reading, listening to music, working (because I have a job ) and some chores. One of the first things you will notice if you fast is how much time you have on your hands. There’s no meal prep, there’s no sitting down to eat, ever. That adds hours to the day. And then, I have even more time because fasting for some reason causes me to rise from bed one to two hours earlier than normal.

The second 24 hours was the most difficult mentally as it always is for me during a 72 hour fast. Day two is like walking past the scaredy-cat gate while in line for a roller coaster. It would be so easy to go ahead and satisfy my hunger and just do this some other time. During this second day, mornings aren’t a problem as I never eat in the morning. By the time afternoon comes around my stomach grumbles here and there. The stomach grumblings are surprisingly short lived. It’s evening that is most difficult on this second day. I feel physically strong but mentally weak. I try to wear myself out with my focuses. Day two is actually  ideal for a hike. But I didn’t that this time. Instead I added a good deal more focus to my work, as I’m coming to the end of Summer semester.   

The third day is no longer mentally challenging because it’s the last day of the fast. It feels somewhat akin to running that last third of a race, barring anything disastrous, I’ll be finishing this race. I can look ahead with relief.

The hours really drag on in day three. And while I feel mentally strong, I begin to grow physically weak in the final fasting hours. The third day is not a good day to go for a hike or even grocery shopping (because of the heavy lifting), though I’ve done both. This time I took it easy and eased on into the finish line. I completed in the evening, with 72 hours ending around 7pm Friday evening, August 6. I broke the fast with chicken bone broth (with ginger and tumeric). A little later I consumed scrambled eggs and some cucumber pasta salad my husband made. I should have probably ate a banana or some electrolyte pills because as usual, my legs and feet cramped while I slept that night. Ouch. That needs to be avoided. During this fast I drank lots of Propel water which has electrolytes but obviously not enough. Aside from the slight electrolyte thing (I’ve placed an order for SaltStick), I didn’t have any adverse affects. The next day, I felt renewed and a little more grounded by the fasting experience. I was primed for a hike – what a perfect day to hike!  And it was (except for the heat).

Originally I planned to hike Black Star Canyon. Imagine me thinking that I could handle Black Star in the August heat. But then something came up and I wanted to stay where I had cell service. I drove up the coast and continued on up a windy road to Top of the Word in Laguna Beach. It was late morning when I parked my truck at the park up there. The weather was chilly. We were socked in even on the ridge overlooking Laguna Beach. Yes, I’ve been complaining about the heat, but sometimes our mornings are pretty chilly, even in August (we’re lucky that way.)

I hiked down to the bottom of the canyon from Top of the World. And then I made a small climb up to a great little secret place. The clouds had dispersed by then and boy did it warm up, especially during those rocky uphill sessions with no shade. I hung out at my spot in the nice cool shade, enjoying the views for a good 90 minutes before heading back out. The climb back up to the ridge and then to my truck was hell but well worth the excruciating trouble. (A little bit of that joyful suffering)

In all, I hiked a little over five miles in these hot coastal hills. Upon returning home I noticed that for the first time in a long time, my skin was crusted with salt. I told my husband, “If you hear me say I’m going to Black Star Canyon, and it’s still summertime, don’t let me go!” (As if!)

Looking forward to summer moving on!

Lunch Hike

I took a lackadaisical lunch hike on Wednesday (June 9). Lackadaisical, because I feel like I need to ease into things. Spring time’s still in the hills (though the tall grass is now brown). And I have fallen out of shape. It’s so hard to get an even balance with mental and physical health. Just when I feel like I’m zoning in on the mental health, (which really is just spiritual health to me), then I start slipping on the physical health. Suspiciously, at the top of my physical health (in my adult years anyway, but probably in my youth as well), that’s where I saw a saw a big decline in my mental health.  Hmmmm. So off into the hills I go anyway, because that’s what I do. But nowadays it’s not just for physical health.

Look, it’s still spring!Wood Creek:

I hiked into one of my secret spots and took a seat up on a cliff. It was a weekday, as expected, the trails were practically empty. Yes, cars were parked in the lot. Some people lingered about at the ranger station. Plenty of people rode or hiked and/or ran up Aliso Canyon. By plenty I mean less than a dozen. But I lost everyone somewhere around Wood Canyon while making my way to a awesome spot that I notice in the distance and wonder how many others see. There’s only 3 places that I know where you can see this spot, and of course there’s a trail to it, so other’s know about it (I just never see them). Let’s just says it’s the road less travelled.

Here at my spot (@ the 3.5 mile mark) I ate my first meal of the day – a tuna sandwich (with provolone cheese, black olives, green pepper, red onion, & dill pickle). I wasn’t really feeling the sandwich and smashed half back into my pack to throw away later. I wasn’t really there for the lunch though. I was there for the company.  If I could upload my “smart watch” I could report how long I spent in the spot (and also my heart rate and elevation). My watch hasn’t figured out yet that I’m in Pacific Standard Time. A few weeks passed before it finally updated that I passed through Central Standard Time. And CST it has remained. This of course seems to be related to,  or at least coincides with the fact that I can’t upload to the app at the moment. I’m guessing that one hour passed sitting in this lovely spot.

Time doesn’t really matter here on this particular day – I felt I had all the time in the world and wasn’t rushed in the least:  

Total miles on this lunch hike: 7(ish)

Horsetrough Spring (Black Star Canyon)

March 26 was a lovely day to take a long hike with my husband in search of Horsetrough Spring. The skies were blue, it was sunny, but not hot. It was a perfect spring day. My husband pointed out Horsetrough Spring on the map months ago when he spotted it on his Life360 app while I was hiking in Black Star Canyon. Pinpointing its location, I knew that we were headed for some heavy duty bushwhacking, which is not only physically challenging, but mentally as well – which is why we made a long day of it.

The canyon was practically empty on this Friday afternoon. We packed in a wonderful lunch and snacks and enjoyed them at the village on the way up (and the way back). Before moving off trail in search of the spring, we explored the Hidden Ranch area – the location of a terrible battle/massacre between American trappers and Tongva Indians who had stolen horses from Spanish landowners in 1831, and also the location where Henry Hungerford shot and killed James Gregg in a dispute over a pasturage bill in 1899. I always stop at the village when I’m in Black Star Canyon. This day was the first time I had hiked down into and explored Hidden Ranch.

The Village:Hidden Ranch Now:Hidden Ranch in 1966 (Courtesy of Santa Ana Public Library):

Not too far from Hidden Ranch, we stepped off the trail to our right at a dry creek bed. We remained with the creek bed for a while but eventually made our way across the meadow to the first of a series of rundown barbed wired fences. Following these series of fences, which all headed toward a line of sycamore trees in the distance, we came up on a trough with water being fed to it by a pipe. Well, that definitely confirmed that we were headed in the right direction. And so we headed off toward the line of sycamores where we encountered more barbed wire. Eventually the meadow disappeared and the vegetation had growth so thick that we separated. I headed up a slope where I could look down into a lush green area that we were certain the spring originated. My husband made his way through that terribly thick vegetation until he was finally beneath the green lush covered area. Though we had separated and I was standing on a slope up above him, he was still close enough that we could still speak to each other. He searched for the spring’s origin for some time. Looking at the lay of the land, I’m pretty convinced he found the location but couldn’t see it because the vegetation was so thick.

We paid only small prices for this wonderful day. My husband had to get a Tetanus shot due to a nasty cut from the barbed wire, and he also had a mild reaction to poison oak (he’s had much worse reactions in the past). As for myself, I got 3 tics! Three. I hate tics. I would much rather come up on a rattler than a tic. You can see rattlers, they make noises. Tics, not so much so. They are silent and sneaky. I found one behind my ear, one crawling on my scalp, and another attached to my scalp a whole day later!

The spring is somewhere in that clump of trees about mid picture (we believe):13.5 miles, 3,621ft of elevation gain.

Church Social Distancing Style

The world’s gone crazy. It has, hasn’t it? I mean hasn’t it? Confusion and chaos has run amuck. And it looks like my generation got caught asleep at the wheel (What generation is that? Well, I’m 55, so that generation). No matter what side you’re on in this global argument (yes, this is a global discussion, to put it mildly, not an American only discussion), it’s all occurred on our watch. Perhaps you don’t know what I’m speaking about. Many people know exactly what I’m talking about. But at the same time, I don’t think my own children know what I’m talking about. They don’t see it. (Boomer!) 

So, what does a trail wandering American girl do in times like this? We’re still technically in a lockdown here in California. Take out food only, yet all of the restaurants are open with outdoor dining. The beaches are crowded, as are the stores and malls. We’re mostly all home, but that doesn’t mean we know our neighbors and local grocery store workers more. We’re all masked, and we don’t talk to each other, because it’s too difficult to hear from behind the masks and plastic barriers. On a nice note, you can tell the people who are smiling beneath their masks. You can see it in their eyes. So, I keep trying to smile at people behind my mask, hoping too that it shows in my eyes. And so, I ask once again, what does a girl like me do in a time like this? There really is only one thing to do and that is what I always do, what I’ve always done. Wander. I strap on some shoes, put on my pack and set out for the trails. Nowadays though, I do my wanderings with the specific intent of seeking the face of God.  

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Black Star Canyon up to the historic “Indian” village site, Sunday, January 10, 2021, 12.4 miles, 1,657’ of elevation gain.

Take me to Church, Social Distancing Style

 

Eight Miles In

Monday, June 20, I put myself on a schedule, written out the night before on a steno pad that I always have with me (except when I’m wandering). I really needed to do this – without a schedule I have no structure in my day. I get things done whenever I feel like it, which sometimes means never.  Without structure, I am nowhere near as productive as I desire. In fact, without structure, it seems every aspect of my life (mental health, nutrition, sleep, exercise) suffers. So, from 8:30 am to 1:30 pm yesterday, as per my schedule, I answered students’ emails and troubleshooted a couple student projects, did several household chores, chatted over the phone with my oldest son (not on the schedule) and then shot over to the closest grocery store to pick up vanilla ice cream for the blackberry pie my middle son had baked the night before. (The blackberries were fresh, picked from a bush in my backyard.)

This structure came just in time. I could tell that my mood was declining the longer I held off. After my five hour block of work, I scheduled a hike that was obviously long overdue. The state of everything (and I mean everything, but in particular: COVID19, politics, unrest, etc.) was really weighing on me. And I felt  particularly down after reading details in the news about some recent murders, one in New Jersey, the others in Florida. I should never read the details in cases like these. The details haunt me. Haunt. Me. When I finally set out into Aliso Canyon for the Big Loop a little after 3 pm I was trying to shake the haunting images of what I had read. I guess if I could pick only one word to describe what I was feeling it was this: fearful. I was able to drift in and out of this funk as I strolled through Aliso Canyon and its brown summer glory. But I kept returning to a place where my thoughts were dark.

Hiking, running, wandering always gives me peace. Sometimes that peace is immediate -- I feel it with my first step. Other times, it takes a few more steps, sometimes a mile, sometimes two. This sense of peace that I talk about is not necessarily a feeling of “happiness”. It is more a feeling of weights being lifted off my shoulders, a feeling of acceptance and perhaps hope coupled with a joyful kind of lightheartedness all at once. I feel like I can breathe easier and think clearer with this peace. It’s the whole goal.

At about three miles in, I sat on The Rock in Wood Canyon, just past Wood Creek Trail to break my fast with some cheese and beef sticks. After another mile of winding trail beneath a shady forest canopy, I took the steep incline up to the ridge chatting with my mother over the phone. And then I hiked much of West Ridge listening to a Youtube interview.  All of this was wonderful for my soul: food then grinding out Cholla Trail  while talking to my mom, which made the difficult work much easier, toping it off with a hopeful interview overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

My Breakfast @ 4:30 pm

View of Saddleback Mountains from West Ridge in Laguna Beach

I barely saw anyone in the canyons on the way out – one or two cyclists and a couple runners. West Ridge had one or two hikers as well until I neared the Top of the World at Alta Laguna Park. By then we were well into evening with a cool ocean breeze. It was no wonder that the top was crowded with people either taking in the views or heading out for evening hikes. Practically everyone was masked. But as crowded as the place was, we were all easily able to keep our distance.

The playground was taped off in the park, but the restrooms (real restrooms with sinks, soap and running water, a luxury I don’t often have on hikes) were thankfully open. As I hightailed it out of the park into the neighborhoods (finishing up about 7.5 miles), more and more cars pulled into the park emptying people with masked faces headed out on their evening strolls. 

I left everyone behind and marched across the lovely neighborhood that runs along the ridge so that I could re-enter the park in Aliso Canyon. It was during that portion, right around eight miles in that peace finally arrived with all of its gifts. Eight miles in. And at about 8.5 miles in, I came up on these guys grazing on the hillsides and began my trek down Meadows trail:

Perfect Timing (nearing end of Meadows Trail, about 2 miles out from my truck):

Hiking San Juan Capistrano (Plus an initial review of Amazfit Pace sports watch)

I got a new sports watch for Christmas, and I have barely said a word about it. The fact that I haven’t said much is testament to its relative ease of use. I’m still learning how to use it to its fullest capacity, but I already know that me and this watch are going to be friends. The watch is an Amazfit Pace, and it’s battery lasts for days and days. Battery life, if I have not already mentioned before, is of utmost importance to me -- perhaps the most important. And so, Amazfit Pace hit that concern right on the mark. However, I’m not accustomed to a touch screen watch, and most of the time I cannot figure out how I got to a the menu I’m currently at (the menus can run deeper than my mind wants to go!). The good thing is that I can easily start and end a hike or run without getting lost in the menus on my Amazfit. I was also able to easily sync the watch’s data to the phone app. But, I’m not thrilled with the phone app, mainly because it’s a phone app. I prefer the large screen -- I’d like a pc app (like I had with my Garmin). The best I have found so far, is having the data upload onto Strava.com.

I somehow linked my Amazfit phone app to an old Strava account that I don’t think I’ve ever used. I didn’t even know that I correctly synced the two (it’s all a guessing game with me sometimes) until I received some “kudos” from a few trail running friends.  Also, another thing about the Strava upload, and this is going to bug me for a while, the numbers between the two apps differ slightly between my Amazit phone app and the Strava pc app.

Aside from all the usual stuff that I’m used to on a sports watch (distance, mileage, elevation, pace, etc), this watch also tells me the weather forecast for a week, records my heart rate and even tracks my sleep when I wear it to bed! Yes the Amazfit Pace tells me how much of my sleep was light versus deep sleep. And it shows me graphs with the exact timing of deep sleep cycles. Who knows how accurate the sleep data is, and I’m not sure even if that information is useful to me. I could download music to the watch too and listen bluetooth (which I probably will not do -- I’m old fashioned and still pack an ipod). Bottom line, useful statistics or not,  I’m back in the business of tracking stats.

On Friday, after a week of rain, I strapped on my Amazfit and headed out for some trails. I went as local as can possible being that I didn’t get out until the afternoon, and my son had a 4:30 doctor’s appointment. Seemed like as good a time as any to get reacquainted with the town that I so love, the town that got us out here --  San Juan Capistrano. I reminisced in my Friday video how many years ago I was travelling by train with my husband-to-be and his classmates from an urban development class at Cal Poly. As the train slowed down through the hills of San Juan Capistrano, I gaped at the beauty outside of my train window. I had never been to San Juan Capistrano but knew right away I loved it and exclaimed right there in the train, “I want to live here!” Turned out, my husband’s first job out of college was in San Juan Capistrano. We moved out here in December 1988.

Trabuco Creek flows right into San Juan Capistrano. From there the creek that I so love, meets up with San Juan Creek, and they both flow out to the ocean at Doheny Beach in Dana Point. I decided to meet up with Trabuco Creek before it met San Juan Creek. I parked my truck by the horse stables just outside of the Los Rios District.

It has been a while since I have seen Trabuco Creek flowing so forcefully through San Juan Capistrano -- at least a few years. It was flowing so well on Friday, that I could not find a place to cross. My hike came to a halt where the creeks comes tumbling down the rocks beneath the train tracks. So, I took a little detour and climbed up to the tracks, ran across the bridge then made my way back to Trabuco Creek Trail through the meadows that are dotted with orange trees. After meeting back up with the trail, I turned back off again to take the bike path beneath Interstate 5. From there, I made my way fairly easily to Arroyo Trabuco Trail, just past the golf course off of Avery Parkway in Mission Viejo. My hope was to make it to the first giant overpass (Crown Valley Parkway), but my hike came to a gradual halt when my feet began sinking down into the mud. The trail became so muddy that my feet sank down to my ankles. Pulling them back out of the mud to tredge on became tiresome, and I feared that I was going to fall flat on my face. So, I made my way back from this lovely hike in San Juan Capistrano a little earlier than planned.

7.43 miles logged
3:10:48 Total time
528 ‘ feet of elevation gain
220’ average altitude
121 bpm average heart rate