STT

Saturday, March 13, I got out early for some trail time after two days of rain. The storm brought snow to our local mountains. Though I love hiking through snow (a light snow), my only possibilities of hiking in the snow were: 1) Maple Springs out of Silverado (which was under voluntary evacuation due to mudslides), 2) Trabuco Canyon/Holy Jim (which is still closed from #HolyFire), or 3) Drive to the top of the mountain to Blue Jay campgrounds (which was not a good choice for a few reasons, mainly because I kind of hate driving the windy Ortega Highway, especially the part when I’m right up against a cliff and the driver behind me is riding my tail, pressuring me to drive faster!) All other locations, if it got any snow, I figured most likely would have melted by morning.  And so I chose a location that few people would choose mainly because there’s so few places to park – Santiago Truck Trail (STT). What a lovely, lovely desolate trail.

I was on the road early enough to find parking in a turnout up Modjeska Canyon not too far from the trailhead. Having checked the weather ahead of time, I expected cold. I didn’t quite imagine though that it would feel this cold. The weather reports said 38F in Silverado, so I’m going to go with that (but it seemed colder!)  I know 38F is not so cold for a lot of people. For this native Californian, it’s pretty cold. And I wasn’t prepared, so I had to walk back to the truck for more warmth. (I guess that means I was prepared being that I had warmer accessories back at the truck.)

And so, with an insulated beanie and much warmer buff (doubled up with my thinner buff), my journey continued to “Old Camp” via STT. It makes my heart glad to even think of the loneliness of this trail. From the start, I took the high single track, though it had been bulldozed and was difficult at first to locate. It’s important that I take this high trail on the way out – it’s my habit, and I love, love, love the “backbone” portion pictured above (first picture).

Talk about quiet. I saw only a couple of people in those early hours. They rode bikes. Through the clouds that covered the peaks, I could see snow on the slopes. The Main Divide I am certain was covered with snow. As for STT, a few small patches of melting snow dotted the shady side of the road as I approached my turnoff point at Joplin. That was it as far as snow. I could hear the creek flowing strong far below my trail and in the distance across the canyon a small waterfall flowed over the boulders (@ approximately mile 5) that I plan to try and reach some day soon. 

At times the weather grew so cold and the clouds so dark that it felt eerie. Hard to explain really. The word “spooky” comes first to my mind. Nature is surreal even more so during these eerie times. I was happy to see anyone that I met along the trail, as first, they were a confirmation that I was not so crazy to be out on this lonely trail by myself, and also because it was comforting to see the face of another person after travelling in silence for some miles. After mile 4, human sightings became rare. I came upon a group of several young men headed down to “Old Camp”. A lone male hiker with poles passed me at one point on Joplin Trail.

The turnoff to “Old Camp” @ Joplin Trail is at about mile 6 on Santiago Truck Trail. At that point, I’d already hiked some significant hills, so the joy was instant upon reaching this junction. The relief of finally reaching this point was short-lived however, because after a short descent, the ascent begins once again. It’s two and a half miles to “Old Camp” at this junction. A very long 2.5 miles. But the last mile, so delightful it was, doesn’t really even count. On that final mile descent into “Old Camp”, the moss appears in thick mounds beneath the trees which are also covered in a moss carpet. Lush green ferns fill in the spaces between rock and moss and the wonderfully aromatic Bay leaf trees begin to appear on the landscape in abundance. I stopped to cut a small branch of the Bay Leaf to take home with me, as I always do.

Heading Down Into “Old Camp”

By the time I arrived to “Old Camp”, the cyclists who had passed me along the way had already passed me on their way out. As expected, I was completely alone down in this little shaded paradise next to the stream. I remained in that general area for quite some time, knowing that I was pushing it as I always do time-wise. I ate breakfast, unpacked and re-packed, explored some, took pictures and I also just sat. I sat and waited. Waited for what? Nothing. I just waited. And I listened. And I prayed. It was spooky down there I admit. But it was also peaceful and a little magical. I will say that I was quite pleased when a young couple rode in on their bikes and set up their spot not too far from me, closer to the stream. It was nice talking to people after being silent for so long.

Total miles for this adventure: 17 with 3,000’ of elevation gain

The remainder of the story in pictures:

Down By “Old Camp”:

The long hike back:

The Need to Wander

My summer vacation (17 days total, plus there were some weeks that I only taught 9 hours) is grinding to a halt. I am grinding to a halt. That’s what it feels like anyway, like I have little energy or incentive to do much of anything. That is why I keep a list of the top thirty or so things that I need to do. That way, in my lethargy, I will manage to get something done -- because of my neurotic need to cross things off a list.

So, why so lethargic and down? Well, first off, my diet has not been that great lately, with birthdays and other summer celebrations. When carbs were increased in my diet, my energy levels decreased, right on cue. But there have been other things too: the heat, the #HolyFire, some trouble for one of my brothers, and just overall worry about the near future. And I also recently attended my 35th high school reunion, which as is always the case with reunions, was bittersweet. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed the night, and it was great seeing so many people from long ago. But events like these are draining, mainly so because I begin to think about the past, and really, the past is not the ideal place to be. Even to spend a little time in the past, though the past is by no means horrible, is stressful. (I don’t want to remind myself what a stupid kid I was!).

Today started off as a particularly lazy day. After accompanying my oldest son this morning to bring his car in for repair, I lay on the living room couch for about 3 hours. I don’t think that I slept. I just closed my eyes and pondered what I would do for the remainder of my day. I found that I had absolutely no ambition to do anything whatsoever as my days off from work slipped away. Some time after noon, I grabbed my middle and youngest sons and dragged them off to buy new shoes. They also start school next week. And shoes meant that I could cross something off my list. But then I found myself at home again with absolutely no ambition to do a single thing. Though I did some reading, and also checked emails (answered a couple). Finally about 4 pm, wearing flip-flops, I took my dog for a walk around the neighborhood. I loved the fresh air. I loved moving one foot in front of the other. And that’s when it dawned on me what I really needed. I REALLY needed to wander. The heat and the mountains on fire have deterred me from wandering lately, and I’m guessing that is helping with my low ambition. Wandering is part of the medicine that keeps me even, or rather, balanced. Wandering is like a sifter – it sifts out much of the unnecessary burdens that I’m carrying on my shoulders.

I took off out my front door at about 5:00 pm and headed down PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). And then I wandered. I wandered for 7.25 miles all the while making my way into Doheny State Beach, Capistrano Beach, and the Dana Point Harbor. I didn’t get much elevation gain (about 450’) and the terrain was not at all rugged. But I caught glimpses of pelicans nose diving into the ocean for fish. I watched the waves crash down while others enjoyed the surf. I saw the destruction that the tide had done to the beach parking lots at the southern end of town. I looked at the faces of many people. I smiled or at least grinned or nodded my head when eye contact was made. A rabbit crossed my path, and at least three trains powered by. I saw squirrels and seagulls and reflections in the water. And best of all, I got my feet moving in that robotic manner that I find so comforting. One foot in front of the other.

So, as mopey that I am, or as anxious that I am, at least I got to do that. I got to wander.

The journey (though it was dull, it was wonderful, because dull is wonderful, aside from the fact that nothing is ever really dull):

PCH -- Pacific Coast HighwayS. Doheny Beach, torn up parking lot:Capo Beach:

I Understand the Lure

I have been yearning for Maple Springs Road for a while now. And then the Silverado fire happened (which wasn’t in Silverado) and Santiago Canyon was closed for travel. I was afraid that I would miss the Maples turning yellow this year, which would definitely be apropos with how things have been going.  But I did not miss the Maples turning yellow – I finally made it out last Saturday (November 14). I think that it was perhaps the most crowded that I have ever seen Maple Springs Road. With much of The Main Divide still closed due to #HolyFire, this is one of the few ways up the mountain. Being that the gate was open, I was able to drive the asphalt portion of the road. I parked at a bend in the road where the road turns to dirt. From there I hiked up Maple Springs Road (about 4.5 miles and all uphill, but not excruciating uphill). In all, the trip was about 9 miles with 1,500’ of elevation gain.I didn’t see another person on foot. But I talked to one guy in a truck parked at one of the turnouts on the way up and another on a bike (as in bicycle) at Four Corners where Maple Springs Road ends. Both of them expressed their shock that I had hiked “all that way.” This of course puzzled me. I must look really old and out of shape.

Maple Springs Road

The weather was perfect. I could see the San Gabriels capped with snow. They are calling my name as well! I recalled my first trip up Maple Springs Road (with Tom Fangrow and a group of other runners). I remembered a tunnel of Pine forest that signified we were near the top of Maple Springs Road. That Pine forest burned down soon after that, and now it is bursting back with young pine trees as as tall as me and even taller.  I did a little running on the way back for no reason at all, in other words I wasn’t running late or anything. A running urge just came over me.

I really didn’t mind the crowds so much. I understand the lure. Even with the multitude of vehicles, motorcycles and cyclists travelling up Maple Springs Road, there were many moments of solitude on the way up. And I was almost completely by myself on the way down.

It felt good to be back, even with all of the crowds. I am optimistic about fall! I have not been optimistic in a long time. I am also looking forward to some winter snow on Maple Springs Road in 2021 – stay tuned because I will be there clicking my camera like a fool.