Moulton Meadows Loop

May 23 I finally got in some trails. (And I haven’t been out since.) With a lunch in my pack, I headed out early afternoon for a little known park in Laguna Beach named Moulton Meadows. From there, I caught Mentally Sensitive Trail into Aliso Canyon for some cave hopping in Wood Canyon. And I took my sweet time going about it.

I scraped up my legs a bit hopping around on the rocks. And the wind kicked in for some lovely times on the cliffs. In all, the Moulton Meadows loop covered about 9.5 miles. I still haven’t got the data off my “smart” watch for the stats that I so enjoy. For weeks it still read Eastern Standard Time.

Much needed medicine but too far in between.

RockIt:

The Headlands

Two huge things happened in my life during this pandemic, and neither of them have anything to do with the pandemic. But if it wasn’t for the pandemic, I would have been able to deal with these two huge things in the way that I was able (and I thank God for that).

Because of the pandemic I found myself teaching remotely. Therefore, I was able to live in the hospital for ten days when my youngest son became critically ill last summer (God Bless Miller Children's Hospital!) And then there’s the after-hospital stuff that I am able to manage because of the great flexibility that comes with teaching remotely. In addition to this, my oldest son, who studied in Washington, DC his last semester in college, decided to make a go at it out there. And so, I spent another 10 days away from home, visiting him in his new home (oh the joy! seriously, one of my greatest seasons!), which would have not been possible without the pandemic.

Wow. I just don’t know what to say about this. I’m a little awestruck. This is not to say that working remotely has run smoothly. Nope. Can’t say that. I was extremely behind in my prep when I returned from the East Coast – heck, who am I fooling? I wasn’t only behind in my prep. I was behind in EVERYTHING. I was behind in getting my taxes filed (alas, I made it by the extended deadline!), I was behind in my reading, in my emails, and I was behind in my writing (I’m also taking a creative writing class taught by long time friend and college professor of my Freshman Comp class way back when, and it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve submitted – also btw, this enriching class  wouldn’t have been possible without the pandemic.)

I am certainly not grateful for the pandemic – my God, what I’ve seen in the past year I would have never predicted in my youth. I am really just grateful that during this pandemic I was given so much grace.

While, I’ve been scrambling to catch up on everything, I did get in two quick hikes in my hometown, in an area that we call The Headlands. I’ve been hiking the Headlands since I first relocated from LA county (Covina) in 1988. We discovered it pretty quickly, the beach bums that we were in our 1 bedroom apartment across the street from the Pacific Ocean. The Headlands is an area in between the Dana Point Harbor/Marine Institute and Dana Strands beach.

On the first of my two hikes since returning from the other coast, I took my youngest son hiking – the one who was dropping ten pounds a month and couldn’t move without pain last summer – and showed him one of my favorite secret places in town, which of course is in that little spot called The Headlands. What makes this hike so terrific, is that you must wade through the ocean to complete it. If you make a loop of it, you only wade through the ocean once. An out-and-back of course means two times into the ocean. Now, wading through the ocean could mean knee deep or or could mean thigh deep. Any higher, I would advise against the hike. On this day, my youngest and I made a loop back to my truck parked at the Marine Institute, totaling about 4 miles.  (Since then he’s gone back often, returning home with details of the area that I’ve never noticed. Now, I’ve got to plant the seed about seeking God’s face in the secret place . . . in time, because right now he’s going to laugh in my face. .)

But how can he deny the existence of God with scenes like this?
First of 2 hikes. 4 mile loop around The Headlands
(Around April 20, can’t be sure of date, because I’m still out-of-sorts)

At a about .75 of a mile, the trail ends, and you must make a sharp right turn and walk through this cave:

And when you come out on the other end of the above cave, you are here, which is the area we must wade through to get to the other side. Timing is key. I like to wade out to a large boulder, stand on it so that I feel grounded, and wait until the tide goes out. That’s when I drop down into the water and make haste around the corner where I can stumble upon the boulders back up to dry land. Sometimes, but not on this particular hike, the waves rush in sooner than I can get to dry land. I’ve done it so many times since 1988 that I know to find solid ground and brace myself (preferably with some arm strength up against the cliff wall) and wait until the waves rush back out before continuing on:

This is the area that most casual day trippers don’t get to because of the “wading” I described above:

Hike 2 around the Headlands (out and back, approx. 2.5 miles)
Mother’s Day 2021

Soon after returning back from the East Coast, my oldest flew to the West Coast to walk his graduation ceremony. One of the things he did on his short trip here was take a hike around The Headlands with his youngest brother, his father, and his mother (me) on Mother’s Day. Yes, we raised our three boys in a beach cottage (which means a tiny home) but as a consolation prize, this was out our front door -- even on a cloudy, eerie looking day, it’s awesome:

Yes, I am behind on pretty much everything. But I feel more peace than I have in a long time.

Doormen, Jaywalking and The National Mall

So, I have been away (but away much longer from this blog than from my home!) For 10 days in April, I left this lovely, yet chaotic,  seaside town of mine and travelled further east than I have ever before. The furthest east I’ve been is East St. Louis, Illinois. I was in my thirties. This past  April 10 (2021), I took a flight out of LAX for Ronald Reagan Airport on a long awaited trip to see my oldest son. And what a joy it was to see him! Also a joy: to be in part of the country so different than mine. I finally got to see the national monuments up close. I finally got to see my brother’s home that he shares with his lovely wife and 4 children. (Bittersweet though was that part of the trip; my brother is currently deployed in Afghanistan.)

Within an hour of landing  (about 4:45 pm EST) I had already dropped my luggage off at my son’s apartment, crossed the street, hoped on the Metro and was in the heart of DC, The National Mall. I felt a little overwhelmed, in a strange place (yet so familiar!). I hadn’t eaten for the day (normally my first meal is around 2 pm PST and it was coming up on that time). There was a lot to take in at this new place. I had never ridden the Metro, or any other mass transit beneath ground. I bought us a couple of sandwiches from the food trucks near The Capital Building for my first meal in DC. It felt surreal. I ate a sandwich with my oldest son in front of The Capitol Building with The National Monument in sight, and just past that, The WWII Monument and The Lincoln Memorial.

We got off the Metro near Rosslyn on my way back from my first visit to The National Mall. I could see the Capital lit up across the Potomac River. And before me as I stood on this great lawn, the Iwo Jima War Memorial, lit up under darkness, looming above me higher than I imagined it would be. We took an Uber back to my son’s apartment my first night, my first Uber in fact. 

My son showed me the ropes those first few days, mainly, how to load up my card and ride The Metro. I must say that he did a great job teaching me the way (I taught him well ). I’ve always oddly overly enjoyed mass transit. I certainly have never shied from it with my children. I taught them how to use our buses, trains and trolleys. But wow, we’ve got nothing on the East Coast. I could get anywhere I wanted to go in the DMV (DC, Maryland, Virginia). And if I made a mistake and got on the wrong line, it was easy to fix (I got on the wrong line once when I forgot that the Blue line was closed). You can transfer as often as you like – you don't pay until you leave the station.  I rarely had to wait for “my” line for more than 5 minutes. I suppose this is the best place to write that I love The Metro. Truly. I loved the being amongst so many travelers underground – the Disney Space Mountain-like ceiling. I loved figuring out my route, transferring trains, coming up to the surface and crossing the Potomac River. The Metro was very cool. But I think I liked it most of all because it was my son who showed me how to ride it.

Oh, the places we went. Much was closed due to COVID, the Smithsonian for example, and the National Monument. Of course, we saw The National Mall. We ate dinner out a few times. We walked around Georgetown University where my son’s lovely girlfriend attends as a sophomore. We saw The White House (what we could through the barricades), we walked through cemeteries, and explored Fox Hall and Ambassador Row. We ate sandwiches in Georgetown, had Texas barbecue in DC and shopped at an underground mall beneath the streets of Arlington. My son also showed me “The Waterfront” and we drove over to Maryland to take in The National Harbor. 

The skies were often grey. And it rained some. All the lawns were green. But that’s only the beginning. The first thing that I noticed about this area is the trees – trees everywhere. In fact, when flying in, I looked down and saw what looked like a carpet of trees beneath me. Being the tree lover that I am, seeing this absolutely thrilled me. The trees, shrubs and seasonal flowers were in full bloom—nothing like I ever see on the West Coast. Tulips of all colors bloomed in nearly all of the planters. Rhododendron bushes covered in pink, purple or white blossoms showed off many of the  landscapes. 

Georgetown University:

Vietnam Memorial:@The Waterfront (DC):Food Trucks @ The National Mall:

After those first few days, I was on my own for the next  few days. You can be sure that I rode The Metro all over Arlington and DC. I spent much time at The National Mall, and made my way over to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. I walked about sculpture gardens and browsed gift shops. I spent some time in Dupont Circle and ate lunch at Kramer’s Bookstore. And I visited every one of the war memorials, and also Arlington Cemetery (from the outside – more on that maybe later, but probably not – if you personally know me, ask & I will tell).  During these excursions I put in tens of thousands of steps. One day I glanced down and saw 14,000 steps on my watch, on another day I glanced and saw 22,000. (I never remembered to look down at my watch at the day’s end for a total count. I guess I was just too exhausted).

What a great trip, and the irony is, I wouldn’t have been able to make this trip without COVID (and working remotely). Before COVID, I was teaching on location at two schools. It would have been nearly impossible to get away at this time for 10 days, especially since it wasn’t an emergency, just a visit because I missed my son.

The Washington Monument from the steps of The Lincoln Memorial:   @ The Lincoln Memorial:Korean War Memorial:WWI Memorial:Marine Corps War Memorial (Iwo Jima Memorial):Martin Luther King, Jr. MemorialOutside Arlington Memorial:

So, I noticed some differences between my home on the West Coast and where my oldest son chose to live – the DMV (DC, Maryland, Virginia.) I loved visiting, but it is certainly different that what I’m used to.  Some of these items on my list, granted, may be a big city thing, and not an East Coast/West Coast difference, regardless, here it goes:

1. Much more green foliage and massive flower color over there. The creeks and rivers also run fuller. It’s classic beauty on the East Coast.
2. Hardly anyone wears shorts over there. I wore shorts often and looked around to see only one or two others in shorts. Where I’m from, shorts are common attire, they are worn to restaurants, to school, even to church.
3. USAA ATM machines in CVS stores! There are none in my parts and USAA is my bank.
4. Everyone jaywalks in the DMV. Everyone.
5. Everyone also honks their car horns. Everyone.
6. Roads come out of nowhere (tunnels from underground!)
7. You are allotted much more time on the Pedestrian Walk countdown over there. I get twenty seconds to cross four lanes of traffic in my hometown – in Dupont Circle, I was allotted 90 seconds at one crosswalk, which brings me to the next difference . . .
8. Intersections often have more than four ways – in other words, you may need to wait through five or six other right aways – and don’t even get me started on the roundabouts.
9. Apartments have “doormen” (or women). The halls & apartment doors are all indoors. Consequently, no stranger is just moseying up to your door from outside like they can in my parts where apartment front doors are outdoors facing the public (I lived in an apartment 10 years like this, and felt a bit insecure about it).
10. Grocery stores and drug stores have security, all of them. It’s not like that where I live. But where I live, we cannot bring backpacks into stores—it’s pretty much forbidden, especially if you’re young (I might be able to get away with it at my old age). I noticed visiting my son that people wore backpacks into stores often—even young people.
11. It’s legal to park cars beneath bridges. That’s something that I noticed immediately, as no where will you see a car parked beneath a bridge in my parts (unless of course, that car broke down – then it will surely have a ticket on the windshield).
12. The general public does not make eye contact. Just don’t do it! Seriously, while standing in line at Walmart, or while waiting for The Metro, eye contact is not welcome. This is very different than what I’m used to – we have conversations with strangers in grocery store lines, on the bus, in public restrooms in my parts. On my trip, right away I noticed dirty looks from strangers that I made eye contact with and learned quickly not to look at people’s faces. When I mentioned this to my son, he said that this was definitely a big city thing and not an East Coast thing. He is probably right. I will say that I don’t recall dirty looks for eye contact in Los Angeles or San Diego, California. But then again, I have not been to those “big” cities since the Pandemic, so things may have changed. (When my son would say good-bye and go off to work, he’d say, “Have fun but don’t look at anyone!).
13. It is much louder in the DMV than it is in Dana Point. I already mentioned the car honking, but also remember that the subways make loud Disney-like ride noises every time they stop and then accelerate to leave. There’s also the sirens – big cities have constant sirens, around the clock (that is true also in LA and San Diego). From my home, I hear traffic from Coast Highway occasionally, but I also hear the foghorn, seals barking down at the harbor,  and the train whistle from San Juan Capistrano which is miles away. First thing I noticed when I came back was how quiet it was compared to the DMV.
14. And lastly, good luck finding parking over there. It is much easier to drive in my parts and find parking. That’s convenient yes. But I also like having things within transit and/or walking distance which the DMV definitely has. 

So happy to have made this trip. What a great adventure. The flight back was interesting as well. After walking through the medal detector twice, I was patted down. Then my flight was randomly picked to go through a second security check, requiring i.d. checks for everyone and random luggage searches. Then once boarded, the woman in the middle seat loudly proclaimed to the woman at the window and myself on the aisle that she wasn’t moving if anyone had to use the bathroom because she was going to sleep. (That’s exactly why I purchase an aisle seat – so I can freely move about). Anyway, the cabin reeked of marijuana much of the 5 hour non-stop flight. The pilot eventually got on the intercom to sternly inform everyone that smoking in the bathroom was a federal crime and wouldn’t be tolerated. I half expected the police to be waiting when we arrived in LA. They weren’t. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if they had. I would have just floated right past them – No matter how great a trip is, it’s always wonderful to be back at home. Such a mixed feeling . . . sad to leave, happy to be home.

The Awakening (@ The National Harbor, Maryland):