Cool Down Hours

Last Monday (June 22), I headed out to Las Flores for a hike along the Great Suburban Trail – Arroyo Trabuco. This wonderful suburban trail, if you’ve ever been to this blog before, you know that it stretches from San Juan Capistrano to Trabuco Canyon (O’Neill Park). Of course I didn’t make the entire trek –I parked in the lot of a small local park and headed out down Antonio Parkway at 2:30 pm to take a bike path for a bit and then a turn onto Tijeras Creek Trail. After crossing Tijeras Creek, which was pretty dang full for dry Southern California in the early summer (see here), I headed up toward Arroyo Trabuco Trail. Oh, the joy of my feet hitting dirt!

It was definitely hot out there, but it can get much hotter. Those trails can see 105 Fahrenheit. I’ve been on them when they’ve been that hot (& I don’t ever intend to again!) On Monday’s hike, the temperature began in the low 80s, and fell from there (I’m guessing to about 75 or less at the end of my hike). Living on the coast (and we’re in June gloom, which means socked in days) 80s in the sunshine is hot for me. But I know how to handle hot. Years of training. The key is this: don’t ever get overheated – take time to cool down! I bet you thought that I would say that the key is to stay hydrated. Hydration is good, yes, but hydration doesn’t prevent sun stroke (or even at the minimum heat exhaustion).

Heading Down Tijeras Creek Trail

Crossing Tijeras Creek

The creeks were flowing indeed, which is super lovely in the summertime, especially when hiking during the cool down hours. There weren’t many others on the trail this time of day. In fact, I recall seeing only cyclists, except in O’Neill park were there were people strolling about the meadows. Arroyo Trabuco Creek was flowing as well, and there were some spring flowers still in bloom. Spring is longer this year thanks many days of rain well into April and even May.

In all, I lackadaisically hiked about 12.5 miles with minimal elevation gain (750’). The absolutely delightful thing about taking a hike into the evening hours is the noises. The wilderness comes alive. The birds amp up their singing, frogs croak at the creek side. There’s all sorts of rustling going on along the trail. It’s exhilarating!  With just about a half mile left to the bike trail near Antonio Pkwy, I got spooked from all the noises, and hurried off, feeling relieved when my feet finally hit the asphalt. (I also felt comfort by the sudden presence of other people about taking their dogs out for a walk in the last hour before sunset.)

A wonderful hike!

And now I know what I need to do, especially since the evening is so lovely. Screw trying to wake early when it’s just not in me right now. Sleep in til 7:30 or  8 am, then mosey around the house with coffee in hand, do some gardening, some chores, some work . . . And then wander aimlessly on trails in the afternoon to take in the exhilarating cool down hours.

Marching Back Up Tijeras Creek Trail

Lonesome Road

June 17, I didn’t wake early as planned. Surprisingly, that didn’t stop me from heading out to Black Star Canyon. I looked at weather reports first, and seeing that the high in Silverado Canyon was 73 Fahrenheit, I was good to go. My feet hit dirt at 10:30 am.

Though the base of the canyon was full of hikers, once I turned off to the left, away from the creek, up toward The Main Divide, I travelled a lonesome road. What a lovely lonesome road it was. Sure, it was warm, but the occasional cool breezes rectified that. Black Star Canyon is still comfortable in June, which is why I chose it for the day’s hike. Soon, it will be too hot, and I haven’t been into that in a long time.

Once in a great while hiking up that lonely dirt road, I would come upon a mountain biker, and once I caught up with a man heading up Black Star Canyon Road for the first time. He was looking for a place to rest, and I told him that he wasn’t that far from the Indian Village site that he was hoping to come upon. We were just about to enter the Mariposa Reserve during our chat. Mariposa Reserve is my happy place. I call it that right now because just the mere thought of the plateau that makes up most of the reserve soothes my soul and brings down my heart rate.

My first stop in the reserve was to take a single track, about a half mile down to the creek. There’s a little bush whacking, and lots of incline, all to arrive at a lovely shady spot at the creek.  It was still flowing, though slowly, which means there was a trickle at the falls. I came out at the single track in fact, very close to the top of Black Star Falls, so close that I could hear the voices of hikers hanging out down there. It’s exhilarating of course to sit there in that shady crevice of giant boulders above the falls without a soul around. It’s a bit spooky in fact. You can understand my surprise then when I saw four young men hiking down stream toward me.

Headed down to creek just above Black Star Falls

Wow. I didn’t expect that. And they didn’t expect me. When I made eye contact with the lead guy, he hollered back to his 3 friends, “Oh man, I think we’re back at the road.” Nope, I told him, the road’s up there. They were all delighted to learn that they had reached their destination, the top of Black Star Falls. Soon after that, I scurried back up to the trail, but not before urging the guys to be careful! My next destination: Beek’s Place.

Beek’s Place was lonely and lovely as usual. Though it was a bit hazy out, I still had views of San Gorgonio and the San Gabriel Mountains, not to mention Orange County and a socked in view of the Pacific Ocean. The Beek family had a wonderful location for their 1930s mountain retreat. I hung out at their place on this particular day for about thirty minutes before heading on.  There is much to take in from this spot – faraway views and ruins to rummage about. When I finally did head out, I climbed just a little bit further for one last stop before the long down hill. My last stop: the doppler tower.

Just a short distance from Beek’s Place, I have never visited the doppler. The reason being that I am always behind on time. And on this day, it was business as usual. I was behind on time. But it’s nearly summertime now, and it doesn’t get dark until after 8:00 pm – and so I went for it and headed up to the doppler tower where I hung out for a good fifteen minutes or more. As I headed back, I could see a helicopter hovering about in the far distance, somewhere over the Mariposa Reserve.

For the next few miles down, the helicopter continued to hover over the reserve. Eventually,I made a stop at the Indian Village site and ran out to the edge to get a closer view of the helicopter. I could see the red and white design of OCFA (Orange County Fire Authority). A person walked along the outside right edge. The pilot had his door open, and I could see him looking out the door below to the forest floor – precisely, it seemed, where I had been earlier, where I had met that group of young men, just a small ways from the top of Black Star Falls.Then all of a sudden, the person on the edge stepped off and was lowered down to the ground where the trees and brush swooshed in the chopper’s prop wash.

As I continued my way down Black Star Canyon Road, I lost sight of the scene. And then I came out again where the helicopter had landed just off to the side of the road. The wind it’s propeller made was fierce, though far enough away from myself, I could see all the brown summer grass swirling and whipping about on the mountainside. The chopper eventually left, only to return again as I approached the final stretch on the canyon floor. (I have found nothing online about this rescue, except for a blurb on the OCFA Twitter page confirming a rescue of a female with a leg injury in Black Start Canyon).

In all, I put in 17 miles and of course was so much better for it, though fatigued was I. Still love Black Star Canyon. It’s never too lonely.

17 miles, 2,700’ elevation gain

Time to Move Along

June 9, 2020 – Rock-it  / Meadows Lollipop Loop

Much needed late afternoon hike – didn’t begin until around 3:30 pm. I took my sweet ole’ time, taking time to cool down in Cave Rock. I finished up the lollipop loop at dusk, which is after the park closes. Aliso/Wood Canyons closes  at sunset. The lot was empty but I wasn’t the only one getting out of the park a little late. There were cyclists returning as well, and the rangers had not yet closed up the gates.

11.53 mi, 1,424' elevation gain. The route @ Aliso/Woods Cyns: Aliso Cyn to Wood Cyn to Cave Rock to Wood Cyn to Mathis to Coyote Run to Rock-It to West Ridge to Cyn Acres to TopOfTheWord to Meadows to Wood Cyn to  Aliso Cyn (Aliso Viejo & Laguna Beach CA).  

 

June 12, 2020 – The Big Loop (Cholla / Meadows Lollipop Loop)

Local once again, mainly because I have gotten used to sitting around for a couple hours drinking coffee and answering emails, reading news, etc. every morning. By the time I’m usually ready to go, it is much too late to drive to the mountains. I didn’t  wait as late this time, but I still started late (around 11 am). What a lovely warm afternoon with spring still in the air and cool breezes on the ridge!

Soon it will be time to change my routine and move along out of Aliso/Wood Canyons. For now, the Big Loop @ Aliso/Wood Cyns is a great go-to loop. 12.05 miles, 1,434' of elevation gain.

 

The “Big” Big Loop

June 5, I still choose to hike locally, especially since I’d rather sleep in a tad, til about 7 am, then sit around drinking my two cups of coffee with stevia and heavy whipping cream. Of course that gets prolonged because I need to pack my stuff and do a walkabout on my property to look at things like the blackberries and wildflower seeds planted beneath the Orange tree. By the time I head out, it’s already at least 10 am!

June 5 was hazy and gloomy and even rainy in the early morning. We call that June gloom on the coast in southern California. It’s this way every year. Sometimes it seems we barely see a day of sunshine in June. It rained, in fact, the day I gave birth to my oldest son, more than 20 years ago, June 3, 1999.

June 5, 2020, I decided to go for The Big Loop, V. 2, as I have often called it, which is a longer extension of The Big Loop. I parked in the church lot across the street because the parking lot at Aliso/Woods ranger station was closed (although the park was open). That didn’t seem so odd to me since we live in weird times right now, and parking lots are constantly being closed. Then as I was climbing out of my truck, at least 50 motorcycle policemen (& women too, I’m sure)  road down the road toward the boulevard. And that’s when I suddenly heard the shouts and cheering from afar. And amazingly, from my viewpoint, I could see protestors out near the federal building in Aliso Viejo. There have been protests daily in my area. All have been peaceful, so I was not necessarily alarmed. But the event felt a little surreal.

The Big Loop (the first version), is actually a lollipop loop, going up Cholla Trail, going down Meadows (or vice-versa), just under 12 miles. The Big Loop, V. 2, on the other hand, is just under 13 miles, replacing Meadows above with Mentally Sensitive Trail. Of late, I’ve been calling V. 2, the “Big” Big Loop. I think I like that name better. But that’s neither here nor there. What’s is here and there is this (despite all the depressing news out there – in the U.S. and even in the world, you know what I mean):

Spring is still out there on the southern California coast!

And this:

The forest is spooky and awesome

And this:

The California Riviera