Wild on the PCT

When I got out to the San Francisquito trailhead, there were a few people already gearing up to go out onto the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). We were all there to get some miles in to prepare for next weekend’s (April 14th) Leona Divide trail race. It was a cold morning, 40-ish degrees Fahrenheit, and as I sat in my warm car, I realized I didn’t bring gloves or arm sleeves, and I wore a tank top under my Patagonia Houdini jacket.

It’s gonna warm up before I know it.

I’ll save you the suspense. It got warmer, but never warm enough where my jacket came off because I was comfy just as I was for the entire time I was out there. It was divine.

A few minutes after starting, I saw the kiosk where the signage book stands. I didn’t sign my name but took a quick look at it. Someone from Scranton passed through at some point.

These first 7 miles were rolling hills, up and down. It felt effortless. I felt like I was easily gliding my way around the mountain. Why did I feel so good and energized? Perhaps it was the cold weather. Or perhaps it’s because I was only a couple of miles into this run and usually when I’ve been on this section I’ve already had 25 miles on my legs. Whoa, what a difference that makes.

When I got to where the Spunky Edison aid station would be set up during the race, I saw a few runners hanging out there. I suspected they were going to head on back home for a solid 14-mile run because I never saw them again. I kept going.

I crossed the fire road and landed right back on the PCT.

Me and the PCT only encounter each other once a year. And that’s because the Leona Divide race is only once a year and I’ve been fortunate to have run it a few times. Well, I should say, finish it a couple of times.

But here I am, lucky that I decided to come out and get some miles on it, and I couldn’t have been more grateful that I did. Thank you, Keira!

The weather was perfect. It truly was. It was cool and breezy. The sun would drift in and out of the clouds. It was the kind of weather you wouldn’t mind spending a day out on the trails in.

As I was running, I got to thinking, which I often tend to do when I run. What if it rained on race day? What if the weather was just like it was during the Griffith Park 50K? What if the conditions are similar? 

Rain could potentially become problematic on race day. And if the trail conditions were anything like they were during Griffith Park, I would seriously reconsider running Leona, which isn’t an easy thing for me to say.

The Leona Divide course is almost entirely on a single track and there are sections where the trail runs very thin not to mention the drop-offs. On one side, you can touch mountains, but on the other side, you touch nothing but air.

There isn’t much to grab onto either and if slippage occurs, like it did during the thick mucky mud on Mt. Chapel Trail on that Griffith Park day, you could find yourself tumbling down for some time into the unknown. You’d eventually stop. Something would eventually catch you, but getting to you wouldn’t be easy. And by “you,” I mean me.

Here’s a little side note: I came across the shovel I’ve seen perched the last two times I’ve been at Leona Divide. Here is the photo I took of it last year:

Looks fairly tall, right? Or at least like what the average length of a shovel would look like.

When I came upon it again, I decided to take a photo with it. I had to dip down just so I could get in the frame. What the hell happened to this shovel? Did someone chop it down? Not only that, I was standing on the edge of where the trail slides down, and if my phone fell out of my hand, well, let’s just say bye-bye phone. And no, this photo would not have been worth it.

Anyways, that’s just a little something I observed this time around and I doubt I’d be pausing during the actual race just to get this photo.

As I ran on, I envisioned having rain in some sections, and thought to myself, “Nope. Not going to deal with this if it rains.” And I thought about what I just said to myself. Would that make me wimpy? There’d be no doubt the story would be awesome. I could talk about how I embraced the torrential elements and badass my way on the PCT during a rain storm. My ego would be so proud of me. And then I didn’t care if it made me look wimpy. I’d take common sense, gut instincts, and smart thinking over pleasing my ego. Oh, but the medal…

As it turns out, the forecast appears to be warming up with no rain on the horizon. You can kind of expect warm temps when it comes to Leona. That girl likes heat.

However, I think we all know weather and temperatures can change 1,000 times within a week, so I’ll just have to see what I’ll be dealing with when it gets closer to race day, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be dealing with warmth and sunshine.

On this particular day, I was dealing with beautiful trails and fantastic weather!

When I’m on the PCT I think about one of my favorite books, if not my all-time favorite book, “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed. For a brief moment, I feel like I’m channeling her and all the hikers who pass through. Tackling the entire Pacific Crest Trail isn’t something that’s on my radar, but I’m in awe of anyone who does.

At some point, I needed to turn around and go home, but I didn’t exactly know where my turnaround would be.

A part of me wanted to make it to where the next aid station would be set up, which would be Bouquet Canyon, but I was all alone out there and after my nice long stretch of running downhill, I was gonna have to go right back up and this part is always tough.

After realizing I was probably a couple of miles away from Bouquet Canyon, I decided I’d turn around which was about my 11-mile mark.  Within a mile of heading back, 5 runners passed me, and then I saw nobody. Absolutely nobody.

Talk about wild. I don’t think I’ve ever been this alone in such an unfamiliar area for me, and I mean ever. It wasn’t a matter of getting lost because it’s pretty much a straight shot back, but I didn’t see anyone for miles and hours. Aside from a couple of lizards, and a group of Boy Scouts (or church group) hiking and doing some sort of surveying, it was just me, and nature. And I loved it.

This was by far the most solitary trail run I’ve had, or at least the longest stretch I’ve had between seeing people, and I’m glad my fear thoughts didn’t run too rampant. Yeah, a gazillion few times, I thought about mountain lions, coyotes rattlesnakes, and barracudas coming out to attack me, but other than that I was having a fabulous time with my thoughts.

It was so peaceful out there, but I was getting tired near the end. I had water with me but I didn’t drink enough. I also had CarboPro but didn’t bring more. I also had Run Gum and that helped power me through the last few miles.

And then with about a mile left to go until I was done, a young woman came upon me and kept on running. Oh shit, where’d you come from? 

And then, less than a half mile to go I reached a female hiker I hadn’t seen in what felt like days, but it was more like 4 hours.

I ran past the PCT book signing kiosk again and I was officially done with my 22-mile training run and hike. I was thoroughly pleased. And now all I need to do is go a little bit further at Leona Divide, and with a few more people.

Thanks for reading!