Seduced by Andew Molera

Running from a campsite next to a forest burned out from a major blaze less than nine months ago can prove a bit of a challenge. So I had to trade my usual predilection for mountainous trails for coastal views. I know this will sound horrible to ocean-lovers (who seem to surround me), but I sometimes find the ocean less interesting than the varied terrain of the woods. I mean, it's an amazing amount of water, with more land on the other side. Impressive, but always there, always changing, but relatively this same. This both impresses me to no end, and makes me kinda bored. The theoretical real run I wanted to do was to climb to the top of the rocky mountain peak visible behind the rolling green hills to the East. While I'm not stranger to trespassing, I wasn't sure I was up for that sort of adventure without a good topo map. So to the coast we go.

We began by heading from our campsite at Andew Molera State Park toward the beach. I was immediately excited when Cassandra (my running buddy), Robbie (on his mountain bike) and I came to the river leading to the ocean, which required fording to reach the beach on the opposite side and the trail. There's nothing like a good river fording to start the run off right. While they vacillated over the merits of crossing and the potential depth of the river, I said, "well, there's just one way to find out how deep this river is," and began splashing in. To my knees. To my thighs. Over that crucially cold spot that sends cries up my spine. My shorts are soaked. I take off my shirt. This is a bit deeper than anticipated. Yikes! My sports bra is now soaked. I am in up to my neck. I really hope this doesn't get any deeper. Shit, I am swimming to the opposite shore, finding my feet again, and slogging on to dry land, waving to my dry comrades on the other side of the riverbank. After this little performance, they decide to try their luck further upstream and hope to meet up with me on the trail. I laugh, and take off down the sandy beach. A bit down the coast and past piles of driftwood lies my first choice: Bluff Trail or to the trailhead. With a longing look at Bluff, I skim along the surface of a softly-packed dirt-sand trail, trying my luck at varying intersections until I reach the trailhead. An older couple greets me at the shores of the thigh-deep stream crossing, the woman wearing a look of excited trepidation on her face as she works up the courage to cross the waters which will tug at her ankles as she wades across. I smile and splash through, leaving encouraging words behind. In the parking lot, there is no sign of Cassandra and Robbie. Surely I missed them.

I run the mile back to the beach. No sign. Now I am worried. Me and my stupid stream crossing. I begin running the mile back at top speed. On my way, Robbie greets me zooming past on his bike. Cassandra follows behind. With relief, I turn around with her, to our new lover, Bluff. We make our way up the sandy side of Bluff to reach the top of a steep ridge running along the coast for miles. Waves crash below, the ocean roars, and we giggle. Wending our way through patches of poison oak, we work hard to evade its oily embrace. Four miles in, we look back at the cove where we began and Cassandra turns back, but makes a short detour to dally on the beach with Spring Trail. I continue on to sweat all over Panorama Trail, a winding lonely climb to the highest point in the park. I had hoped to encounter barren land with neglected dirt roads connecting this far South edge of the park with the state park a few miles beyond, but instead see the well-maintained gravel leading to a multi-million dollar dwelling with a living roof. Green and greedy.

Before turning North up Ridge Trail, who will take me on a roller-coaster ride of pounding pleasure, I breathe in the rugged ocean gales, battering my body chilled and brand the land and water in my brain. With a cry of pleasure, I begin what will be a endorphin dream back to the river, to the cold bath of the now chest-deep waters drained by the tide. Back to the campsite, tortillas, avocados and cheese. mmmmm...