Into the Mist

A year ago today I woke up in a strange apartment in an unfamiliar neighborhood. I had just moved to California. I had no car, no job, and only a duffel bag of possessions. Little did I know, I was about to embark on one of the best years of my life thus far. From the redwood forests to the gulf stream waters California deserts, I’ve seen a lot of spectacular things. But enough of that. What have I actually been up to the past few weeks?

Owen and I pulled off another one of our epic driving stints through the night over Memorial Day Weekend. When most normal people were just settling into REM sleep, we dragged ourselves out of bed and began the seven hour trek up to Redwood National Park. It was worth the wake up though, as we got to the park just in time to snag a coveted backcountry permit to camp for the weekend. We catnapped in our car for the better part of the morning, then hiked out to our backcountry site. Later that night, just as I was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong, Evan showed up at our campsite as planned. We celebrated with some beers and a greasy, cheesy, pasta dish.

I could go on and on about the towering redwoods (they were awesome) but the park had so much more than that. Like the elk herd we watched bed down for the night in a coastside meadow. Or the rutted dirt road and river crossings that our little Yaris somehow navigated. Or the fire (and s’mores) we shared with a group of Mormon, Intel employees from Portland. 

As you may have heard, this was the wettest winter in Northern CA history. Which created the perfect storm (no pun intended) to see some epic waterfalls in the Sierras. Earlier this month, we headed east to Yosemite National Park to do some waterfall hunting. I had my sights set on doing the Mist Trail to Vernal and Nevada Falls, since I read that it was a good hike if you wanted to get wet. I was picturing some mild mist, and that was about it. Honestly, I was worried that we’d waited too long and the waterfalls would be mere trickles. The raging river we started our hike along gave me some clue to how wrong I’d be, but it wasn’t until Owen and I were shouting at each other as buckets of water drenched us that I realized they were serious about getting wet.  After getting soaked down to our underwear, we spent the good part of an hour drying out and lounging in the sun at the top of the waterfall. Views from the rest of the hike were insanely amazing. Yosemite is this utopia place that I never want to leave, but alas, we did drag ourselves away. Til next time. 

Looking down into Yosemite Valley

In the midst of the mist

Gorgeous views no matter which way you looked

Though I’ve been running for a long time, training for my first ultra has made me realize I still have a lot to learn. I’ve known for a while that I need to start eating during my longer runs, but I hadn’t quite mastered how to do that. A few weeks ago, I was doing a loop in Huddart Park and Purisima Creek Open Space Preserve called (I kid you not) the Beautiful Butt-Kicker. For some insane reason, I thought ONE granola bar would be enough to sustain me through 22 miles and 3500+ feet of elevation gain. By the last couple miles, I had bonked so bad it was all I could handle to stumble down the trail back to my car. I promptly inhaled several granola bars and ordered a dozen wings to pick up on the way home.

The Beautiful Butt-Kicker lived up to its name

Lesson learned. On my next super loop run, I ate about 1000 calories worth of goos, chews, gels, and the like. As a gel newbie, I ended up getting it all over my hand. I looked a mess. I also had dirt streaked over my legs from falling, and I was covered head to toe in spider webs that had been built across the trail. And my legs were itching like crazy from running through a bunch of tall grass. Thankfully the trail crossed a few streams and I cleaned myself off so I only mildly looked like a wild animal.

This makes the 5am weekend wake up all worth it

Found this gem in the middle of the forest 

Made it all the way from the Santa Cruz mountains to the Pacific!

As much as I like to rant about trail running, I really am lucky to live in a place so close to so many trails. When Dusty, my running partner, and I sneak in workweek trail runs, I feel like I’m getting away with something.

Peaceful post-work trail run

Hiking, running, and now one more hobby to add to the mix…a few weeks ago, Owen decided he was ready to let me ride on the back of his motorcycle with him! I quickly secured a borrowed helmet from a coworker, and we went on two rides up to the Santa Cruz mountains near us. I fell in love, so much so that I recently plunked down a small fortune for my own motorcycle jacket and helmet. I have a feeling this is going to provide for many adventures in the future...stay tuned. 

View from our ride