Downtown

I believe it was Saturday, March 5, that we got a huge downpour. I’m so behind now, facts are leaving me. The next day after our rain was blue, bright and sunny, but still a little chilly, which is always good for me – the cooler the better. But the coastal hills were all closed due to “wet and muddy conditions,” and I wasn’t much in the mood for sneaking in. And I was getting such a late start, that I really didn’t want to make the trip to the mountains. And I really didn’t feel like chancing getting stuck in the mud either. Boy. Dilemma, dilemma.

Finally, around 11AM, I decided to do something I have not done in a long time. I ran down to the beach, where San Juan Creek meets the Pacific Ocean, and ran the bike path (which I call the river walk) into downtown San Juan Capistrano.

Where San Juan Creek meets the Pacific Ocean:The Bike Path:Lots of runners, walkers and cyclists made their way along the bike path. As usual when I run that route, I ran right along the edge of the path. I’m not sure why. A misstep could send me plummeting down the cement slope into the creek. Perhaps that’s what I want. Maybe it’s because I’m closer to the water and the myriad of sea birds when I run along the edge. I noticed that here and there, there’d be someone else right on the edge. But most people went smack down the middle of the path.

The creek was loud, roaring almost. It sounded lovely to my ears. I have missed the sound of flowing water for so long. I really think it’s one of the best noises on this planet. The Los Rios District was booming with people. Little kiddies rode horses at the petting zoo. Trains arrived and departed with floods of people mingling about. The streets were crowded with cars, lots of them tourists, as Swallows Day was just around the corner, and the city was gearing up.

After making my way through downtown, I picked up Trabuco Creek Trail. It follows Trabuco Creek, which had split off from San Juan Creek a few miles back.  The creek was so full, I couldn’t wait to get to the train tracks where it flows down the rocks into a giant pool. For so long, those rocks had been bone dry. But not today.  Trabuco Creek rumbled and crashed down on the rocks. Spray splashed up on my face. And the roar was so loud, not a single other thing could be heard. I took a seat there on the rocks and sat for a good twenty minutes before heading back.

12.57 miles run / 20.23 km

Harding Truck Trail

I am so behind. So, here goes another: Sunday, February 28, in an effort to ward off some anger, I changed my original coastal hills plans, and headed for the mountains at around 11 in the morning. I chose Harding Truck Trail because the drive into Modjeska Canyon is easy. There is no off-roading.

The day was warm, as I headed out of my seaside town. As I approached the freeway, a seagull took off from the asphalt in front of my truck and flew into my windshield. I kid you not! I nearly swerved into traffic to avoid the bird. And the only reason I I think that he didn’t crack my window was because the radio antenna slowed his crash some. That got my attention. With all the traffic, I couldn’t see if the bird survived.

The parking lot was full at Tucker Wildlife, which is at the bottom of Harding Truck Trail. I had to turn around and find a place back toward the mouth of the canyon. I had a little walk therefore to the trailhead. I was fine with that, just happy to be out there. When I’m out in the wilderness, I don’t have to feel. I just have to be. Of course, I can feel, if I struggle to hold onto anger or sadness, or whatever. But I find that the mountains is the easiest place for me to just exist and stay in the moment.

Anyway, it was a lovely day trudging up Harding Truck Trail. At 7.25 miles, where the road makes a giant you-turn, I turned back and ran back down to my truck. I found myself so totally zoned out, that I seemed to forget that I was running, though so very fatigued I was. At one point, I looked down and saw a that I was stepping right over a snake. That gave me a start, but in an instant I noticed that it was a harmless gopher snake. Such a cute thing. so dainty.

I love Harding Truck Trail. But it’s hard as hell.

14.55 miles,  3,086’ gained

A Perfect Loop

I’ve been working many hours lately, and runs are stacking up without posts. Yikes. If I don’t write up my runs, they crowd my head. This is not good.  I get this overloaded feeling, like my mind is getting too full. (Reminiscent of David Bowie’s words: “My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare,” ).

In an attempt to lighten the load in my mind a bit, today’s entry goes back to Saturday, February 27 when I ran a perfect loop in Aliso/Wood Canyons. I call it perfect, not because I ran it perfectly, but because the topography of the route was perfect. It began on a slight down hill through Wood Canyon that lasted about three miles. The major climbing of the run came about a third of the way in. So, I had time to warm up some, and I didn’t have to climb back out at the end. Instead, the last three miles of the run entailed mainly rolling down hills along West Ridge where I spotted the gorgeous rattle snake pictured below. I had to sprint up to her to catch a series of pictures before she slithered off into the brush. After West Ridge, I ran a final descent down Cholla Trail which was sporadically lined with bright yellow prickly pear blooms. Spring is definitely in the air. The weather was on the warm side, but with a cool breeze, the skies were blue. Definitely a perfect loop.

The gate into Wood Canyon:View of Saddleback Mountain from Meadows Trail:Looking back while climbing Meadows Trail:On West Ridge:

9.85 miles (16k) , 1,236’ (377 m) of elevation gained.

Route: Wood Canyon, Meadows Trail, Top of the World, West Ridge, Cholla Trail, Wood Canyon.

Right Where I Want to Be

Being that I’m only running coastal hills when I run alone nowadays, on my one day this past weekend where I got to run, I headed off to Newport Coast to catch some trails. Not wanting to spend $13 in tolls, I drove Coast Highway through Laguna Beach and into Newport Coast, and then not wanting to pay $15 to park, I drove up Newport Coast to Ridge Park. This of course meant that I once again started my run at the top, which in turn meant for a hell of a climb out.

My route: From Laguna Wilderness -- Bommer Ridge, Emerald Canyon, Old Emerald Falls (or possibly Emerald Falls, I can’t remember which is which), then an unmarked trail to Moro Ridge in Crystal Cove Park, East Cut Away, Moro Canyon down to the crowded winter seashore. From there I took the ever so creatively named trail No-Dogs, to an even more cleverly named trail called No-Name for the final climb out. Whew. I was beat. But I was not broken.

The best part of it all . . . well, there were two best parts. First, as I ran down into Emerald Canyon, I ran beneath a red hawk as it soared high above, dipping here and there with the breeze. She was magnificent. And secondly, taking the unmarked trail was a thrill. It took me straight up the canyon side right onto Moro Ridge where I wanted to be. Actually, I was right where I wanted to be the entire time.