Coldwater Trail

The head of the Coldwater Trail. Looking back toward Upper Holy Jim, the Saddleback Valley and the Pacific Ocean. You can see the trail running out the ridge. The I-15 corridor and Lake Matthews are in the distance
Happy Birthday to me. On Friday the 19th, one day after I turned 47, Ron, Chris, Carl and I ventured out to the east side of Saddleback. The mission: to ride the Coldwater Trail. That would be one of the few trails I hadn't ridden in the Santa Ana Mountain range. The mission was an overwhelming success. Scratch that one off the to-do list.

We headed out about 10:30. The temperature was cool but manageable. After a couple errant turns, and despite our guide, Chris, we managed to find the Indian Truck Trail. The initial climb switchbacks gradually above a verdant canyon. It's hard to believe this is Corona (although I'm sure it is blazing hot in the summer and fall). We continued to climb, and after 3.5 miles we were afforded panoramic views of the I-15 corridor and beyond.

The Indian Truck Trail is perfectly maintained, there were a couple landslide sections, but the road is generally smooth and not too steep. After four miles, the scrub brush gives way to shady pine trees. This is definitely not Corona.

The sun greeted us when we hit Main Divide. It was fun to look back toward the west, our usual climbing direction on Saddleback. We rode a short distance on Main Divide, then did a short, intense hike-a-bike along Upper Holy Jim. Carl enjoyed the HAB so much that he wanted to do it again. We denied him the pleasure. Carl is only allotted one grueling HAB per ride.

After a short, chilly lunch, just below Santiago Peak, we started down Coldwater. It is really a magnificent trail. Many of the upper sections are canopied with gorgeous red-trunked manzanita. The surface of the trail is covered with leaves and decaying vegetation, giving it an almost pillow-like texture. No, I don't want to sleep up there, but it was quite fun to ride. We headed down through tunnels of vegetation coursing along ridgelines and around tight switchbacks.

I had a slight mechanical - a broken chain - at about the three-mile point on Coldwater. I caught up with the others around four miles and we rode and walked the last section of the trail. Walked parts because Coldwater gets super steep at the end. Too steep to walk almost, it would've have been easier to ride if I could have. But it is difficult to keep the bike under control on the extended steep sections.

The trail ends near a massive rock quarry. I think we took the wrong route out. Ron did an amazing seat-of-his-pants slide down a graded berm. He has the scraped calves to prove it. He survived, but didn't seemed super stoked about trying it again ( I wanted to tell him that YouTube was calling). When we got back to the car, everyone agreed that the ride was epic. We vowed to ride the Coldwater Trail again before spring. I suggested we start on the Holy Jim side and do an up and over - climbing both sides of the range. The other guys quickly changed the subject.

Phantom Limb

I went on a solo night ride last Wednesday. The air was warm and still. As I reached the the top of Bommer Ridge, I could see lights from Avalon to El Toro. I headed along the ridge, not even thinking about being alone in the dark...and predators. I never worry about predators, but sometimes I think about them. Wednesday was just too perfect for distractions. I kept on to Fenceline and rode the series of rolling single tracks across the back of Crystal Cove State Park. Then I dropped down Lizard Trail, edging into the dark canyon. Lizard follows a serpentine path beneath a canopy of scrub oak and live oak. I whipsawed through the lush and shadowy undergrowth. Lizard is a perfect night trail, completely engrossing, it is easy to lose one's time, one's place and completely succumb to the experience - diving through a sea of dark leaves and branches.

I continued down Laurel Canyon, rolling over rock slides and loose soil. My reservations about riding alone, if I ever had them, seemed distant. I was in my own space, my own time and it seemed impenetrable. It was impenetrable until something from the dark void (that would everything directly outside the beam of my light) protruded into my path. A small, or not so small, branch prodded me. The unseen stick, the phantom limb shoved me off the trail into rocks, boulders, sage and lots of things I couldn't see (ticks?). I wasn't wounded beyond the surface of my skin. I don't like to crash, but I don't stress from scratches. Perhaps I'm in this venture for the scrapes and nicks - my temporary tattoos, reminders of where I've been, what I've seen.

I continued to the flat part of Laurel Canyon, perhaps a bit dispirited, but happy an unseen branch didn't push me into a gully. For now, nature, even unseen, seems to be friendly. Seems? In the lower part of Laurel, I heard large footsteps. Probably deer. This time my mind turned to predators. I kept peddling through the dark, pushing out to the main canyon. I was happy to have some remaining battery, some remaining light, and enough energy to push on home.

Snow on Santiago

Santiago Peak has been shrouded in snow for the last two weeks. So last Sunday I finally managed a trek to the top. I rode up Maple Springs with Josh and Richard, hiked over the saddle and then rode alone down upper and lower Holy Jim to Trabuco Road. I descended alone because Josh, Richard and I did an odd scramble after we passed Modjeska. It is too tedious to explain here, but I spent plenty of time waiting near the peak. To pass the time, I hiked up to the towers -tromping through the snow. The snow above the saddle was about a 8" deep, cornlike and impossible to ride (uphill). Josh reported some snow along the canopied section of Joplin as well.

Upper Holy Jim took a small hit from the last series of storms, but Lower Holy Jim rides like butter on hot biscuits. There was also plenty of water in Trabuco. I splashed my way through the culverts and arrived at my car wet and happy.

I wish I had my own photos, but my camera has been busted for some time. Josh took the nice Leni Reifenstahl-esque photo of Richard as he stood on a rock below Modjeska Peak (see above). We don't support Leni here on MBOC, but we like pictures with clouds. Shortly after posing for the photo, Richard floated back to his car. Josh and I reconvened at my car after a bit more waiting (by me) and a bit more confusion. Nobody spent the night on the peak. Next time, hopefully, we will manage to stay together.

Introducing Josh Wolff

Monday through Friday he may be a mild mannered attorney, a hard-working family man with a two-car garage, a Viking BBQ and a fridge stocked with mayo. But come Saturday, Josh roams the hills like a wildcat. He's the weekend warrior's weekend warrior. Nothing can stop this guy. He's been known to ride all day, spend the night on the trail and keep on riding come morning. Give him a couple Power Bars and he's good for the entire weekend. A trooper. A charger. And a pretty nice guy. Josh Wolff.

Happy Holidays - Card 2009 (click to enlarge)

How Not To Hit Your Head On Doorways

First of all, if you do hit your head, pound your fist into the doorjamb. Pound it hard. Pound again. Yell at the doorframe. “Leave my head alone, you big bully.”

Always duck. Bow your head. Pretend the Emperor of Japan is always waiting in the next room, but in general, avoid Asian countries where structures tend to be built for smaller people.

Avoid caves. Avoid castles. Avoid beach houses. Avoid trailer homes. Avoid cozy lofts.

Be vigilant when wearing a cap. The cap won’t protect your head. The bill will impair your vision. The little button atop the cap will tattoo your pate.

Don’t grow so tall. Refuse milk as a child. Avoid hanging from ledges. Live in a cold climate. Malnourish yourself. Tell your parents you want recessive genes.

Don’t wear heels. Even when such shoes are fashionable during disco and glam rock periods, insist on flats. Express your fashion sense with large belt buckles and jade jewelry.

Under no circumstances should you ever let your friends convince you to wear a Mohawk.

Insist on living in Wilt Chamberlain’s house. Vacation in Norway. Walk through archways. Visit marble buildings with enormous entranceways. Visit museums. Visit train stations. Visit monuments.

Stay outdoors.

Bell Ridge

Ron, Chris, Carl and I rode up Trabuco and down Bell Ridge last Sunday. What a day! The climb up Trabuco was tough but doable. My pre-holiday legs just couldn't spin up all the loose sections, so I walked a bit. When we reached the top of Trabuco we made the familiar climbs to Pinos Peak. This is where we geared up for the descent and - oh my gosh - what a descent. Bell Ridge is amazing. Many thanks to those who worked on this trail. It is in such good shape. I can't say enough about this trail. It begins with an out-of-this-world descent through the trees, then climbs and drops along the exposed ridge for several more miles. There was one gut-busting hike-a-bike. Then there were several controlled slide sections, followed by shorter climbs and a couple steep, on the verge of, uncontrolled slide sections. It was truly on out of body experience. We finished on the super steep BGR trail, which is sort of like luge riding on a 30% grade. Wow. I've been buzzing all week about this ride.