Micro-Adventures: Taking Advantage of My Local Area

Jagged, snow-capped mountain peaks, lush valleys stuffed with giant redwoods, and pristine coastline, my local area offers no shortage of beautiful places to visit. Each micro-climate blends into the next and sometimes it's like I'm living inside of one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books that I read as a kid just to see where the adventure would take me.

This week's further reduction in running mileage offered me the time and opportunity to explore a few of our local treasures.

Horse Mountain

Matt with his new trail buddies.

Wednesday, Matt and I spent the afternoon with Ryan and Shaina and their two pups on Horse Mountain, the nearest peak that gets winter snow. Thanks to a cold storm, her summit at just below 5,000 ft. was snowy for the first time this year.

As we climbed an old logging road, views of the Marble Mountains and Trinity Alps appeared, also freshly painted in a coat of shimmering white.

Although the snow arrive too little, too late to impact the upcoming fire season, it sure was nice to slog around in my snowshoes for a few hours.

Fleener Creek

As I ate breakfast on a gorgeous, sunny Friday morning, I came across one of those beautiful photos people re-pin over and over again on Pinterest. One that makes your heart ache to be soaked in the scenery, I admit I ooh and aah just as much as the next person. But this particular photo I recognized as my local area, part of a century bike race that traces a loop through some of the most rugged and beautiful roads in my local area. It reminded me that I live in one of those places people dream about visiting. I could experience this every day. Why was I not out there right now?

Without a whisper of wind caressing the hillside, I made the descent down to my favorite beach. Matt was at home sleeping off a midnight shift and I was pleasantly surprised by how much more easily I could connect with nature by going solo. The hillside across the creek, lined with grazing beef cattle mooed occasionally, and I dodged a dozen garter snakes, but otherwise I was alone.

Happy cows live in Humboldt.

Wild Iris

Drifting into my own thoughts and snapping photos as I went, I thought about when I bought this camera lens. The man at the store very carefully instructed me not to take it to the beach. "The salty air will ruin your lens," he said. What good is a camera if I can only shoot indoors? It's like buying a pair of expensive hiking boots and not using them for fear of them wearing out. I'm not particularly hard on my gear, but I take a small bit of joy in seeing the visible wear on my possessions, it's an indication that they're well-loved. 

Fleener Creek meets the ocean.

I shot a few photos of the jagged coastline, imagining every cliff and smooth surface beyond the one currently in view. This area marks the northernmost edge of the most pristine section of the California coastline.

My Chacos love going to the beach.

I've visited various places along the aptly named Lost Coast and am mesmerized by the fact that a place so wild still exists. There are few places in the Lower 48 that possess this degree of solitude. If perfect weather like this were a daily occurrence, I'm sure this would soon not be the case.

I wanted to continue south forever, warm sand sifting through my toes as I walked. Soon I turned back, chores at home calling to me. But for three blissful hours, it was me and my favorite beach.

Arcata Forest Run
 

"Don't go down the trails marked with an 'X'". SRRC photo credit.

All smiles chatting with Nikki and Jen before the race. SRRC photo credit.

A few years ago, Matt inherited our running club's other trail race. It's the perfect timing and distance to be a warmup run for my June race. Together, we've developed a pretty efficient system of marking the course and general race operations. While talking with Tanya at the registration table, I told her I didn't think I wanted to race, she reminded me that I didn't have to race and could just run it for fun. Then Matt mentioned he didn't want to run 10 miles with me after the race. Instead of going solo later that day, I made a last-minute decision to run the race. Without a warmup or a pair of socks, I found myself pinning on a bib number and blending into the crowd with everyone else.

Matt's race course is really tough, 1,000 ft. of climbing over just 5.5 miles, but it's organized in a way that it's a pure joy to run, climbing steeply, and descending over gorgeous twisting singletrack that I want to run all day long like a little girl going down the slide until her legs can no longer climb the stairs.

SRRC photo credit.

I played Follow the Leader with Nicolette for most of the race, pushing only as fast as my legs would let me while staying in total control. After all, the reason I had decided against this race in the first place was the increased likelihood of hurting myself a week before Boston. Even though we were rained on, I thoroughly enjoyed my impulsive decision to run the race.

Then I helped clean up the course after the race was over. Everyone loved my cookies and that it didn't rain too much during the run.


What about your local area is unique? Do you spend enough time taking advantage of its natural beauty?
I admit, I definitely neglect it during road running season even though I more than make up for it during the trail seasons. Someday I'll figure out on blending the two together more so I can enjoy it year round rather than in two three month blocks of nature binges.