Dealing with Corona Virus

I was surprised, as always, by how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility. -Jack Kerouac-

I saw a great viral post today on FB about how we are all not in the same boat but we are in the same storm.  Let me tell you about my boat.  I have seen enough in the news to be terrified of this latest version of the Corona Virus - Covid 19.  Doctors and nurses dying while treating myriad cases of patients with serious pneumonia is enough for me to want to keep my body and its asthma history at home.  Knowing that the virus has now become a top killer in our country has to get one's attention.  Otherwise, I can't complain.


My line of work is directly tied to the massive governmental relief operation, so I am fairly certain I'll have a job.  Our grocery store is struggling with inventory, but my family has found a way to stock not only food but fresh produce (and toilet paper).  We've used a number of restaurant supply options and brought home entire boxes of avocados, bunches and bunches of bananas, asparagus, broccoli, yams, and other produce.  So, we are doing relatively well compared to folks in Texas who line up in cars for blocks and blocks awaiting food distribution, or the 20 million folks who've had to file for unemployment.


And I'm doing well in exercise too.  Freed up from the daily commute, I've picked up about two extra hours in each day.  I've been using this to log 20+ miles per week in trail runs, some track work, and jogs on my favorite local footpath.  I've also made sure to go for walks even on my non-running days.  I'm slowly working my way into better shape, but it gets harder with each passing year to recover from months of sloppiness.


My Corona Virus passage is not unique.  I'm in a boat that is skipping across the biggest waves but has a defect that may, at some point, cause it to sink.  Not taking on water, but still subject to peril.  It is unnerving to think about things like whether a will is updated, or whether my wife would have a copy of the password to my IRA.  We're managing, but we have to be vigilant.  This is our current lot.

Even in this moment of "social distancing" and shelter-in-place, we still have freedom if we choose to find it.  Mary and I bolt for the doors and walk a quick 1-2 miles during our lunch breaks during the week.  This merely holds serve and keeps us at something like the level of activity we would normally have.  We don't want to be those folks in the FB memes who talk of gluttony, substance abuse, and obesity as being a natural reaction to our current constraints.  We want to get out, stretch our legs and expand our limited horizons.  We strive to make the most of this trying time.


So, I've been hitting the trails.  King Canyon loop is probably getting sick of me.  This stretch of East Bay Municipal Utilities District land has felt the soles of my shoes for years now.  Beautiful spring wildflowers, turkeys, deer, coyotes, and other fauna are my familiar friends.  But I'm not sure if they are getting used to the other folks coming through in this time of shelter-in-place.  The trailhead parking lots were so crowded that they were closed off, folks still line the nearby streets and walk to gain access to these open spaces.  I used to pass 4 or 5 people in a run, now I pass 4 or 5 people every ten minutes.  It is good to see them out there, and I wonder how much time these same people would be spending in the outdoors if nature was more of a priority in their lives. 


I got a new pair of New Balance trail running shoes and I love them.  They have Vibram soles and felt dreamy in their maiden voyage, a 9 mile run through the Redwood Regional Park.  My biggest complaint was that the soles had such good traction that I actually think they caused more right patellar strain on the downhill runs because they stuck so good in the dirt.  I think my legs were used to a little slippage.

Yeah, that right knee has always been a little more sensitive than the left knee, but here's to hoping it will keep me moving for a few more years before I have to settle for yoga or swimming.  I plan to keep motrin' along until it gives out on me.


Today, Mary and I explored a trail that runs on private ranchland above our house.  The hill has looked down on us for 7 years and we've never thought of challenging it.  Our boys have made the hardscrabble climb up the steep landslide scarred slope that faces their middle school.  They call it the "flag hill" because the rancher used to keep an American flag up there.  But there is a long trail that runs the whole ridgeline to nearby Orinda and has great views in most all directions.  Today, Mt. Diablo was in full view and we could actually see across the great Central Valley of California all the way to the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  The trail was lined with California poppy and other wildflowers.  A bottle of wine and some beet salad made for a great lunch.  The desert was rock hopping with my 10 year old daughter.


So, I'm sweating off a couple pounds, trying hard to keep a diet that is somewhat close to vegan, and enjoying springtime in Northern California.  Feeling about as unnerved as one can be as one who "can't complain."  I want to say "this too shall pass" but that is the unnerving thing, will it?  I hope.

Mt. Diablo Redux. Father's Day on a Hot and Dusty Trail.

Mary offered to go with me on a hike for Father's Day.  We've been trying to be a bit less materialistic and giving each other only intangible gifts is a great way to make the change.  Beginning with George Carlin and the deliberations of other famous philosophers, the idea that a home should be more than merely "A place for my stuff" resonates with me.  But I am a gear junkie, so while I am not as convinced that the loss of physical objects in our life will bring us closer to inner peace, I do marvel at the amount of shit we've accumulated and wonder what it would be like to live with less.  A home is where the heart is, not where a bunch of items are stored.  So, Mary's companionship on a hike is a great Father's Day gift; I'll take it!

I was still sour from failing to even get out on the trail on our last time up this towering inferno.  I was so close!  I have been staring at this hill for years now, and never bothered to venture to the top.  While I have never been much of a peak bagger, this mountain's time had come.

Because of the heat we knew we'd have to start early.  Alarms went off at 5:00 a.m. and we were saddled up at the trail head by 6:30.  [Note to self, if you are going to get up early then earn your own sacrifice by getting out on the trail sooner!]  The South Gate Road into Mt. Diablo State Park was locked overnight.  Even though overnight camping is allowed, the Park is otherwise closed to vehicles.  But that doesn't fairly account for the summer heat and the longer days, so we resolved to make our hike happen.  We parked in an upscale residential area outside the gate, where I suspect "The Real Housewives of Danville" was filmed.  Was my car parked legally?  I wasn't really sure.  It was well beyond the last of the "No Parking" signs, but in an area where the properties had "No Trespassing" signs.  Was I parked on a road shoulder or somebody's yard?  Would the locals be irate at the sight of another tourist vehicle on their land?  For out of state readers, just know that California is the kind of place where everything is crowded and nothing is free.  I couldn't really be sure if my car was good, but adventure called.

By the time we finally got out on the Summit Trail we were greeted with cool morning temperatures, but what I would describe as the warmest cool morning temperatures I have felt so far this year.  Felt like temperatures in the 70s.  And that would be a tell of what was to come. The day would be the hottest this calendar year in our area.

Mary lead the hike at first.  I had run 8 miles the prior morning and my legs were a bit stiff.  I had to remind her to slow down or we would risk having two concurrent but solitary experiences in the woods.  Climbing up through groves of oak and bay laurel, we arrived at a campground.  Kids were running around and the park was coming alive for the day.  We mulled hitting the shower and refilling our water bottles on the return trip.

At some point after an hour or so, my new boots were wearing on my feet.  The back of my heels were feeling the friction from climbing continually, which caused my heels to pull up and down within the boots.  Noticing the "heat" I stopped and applied my usual gold standard - duct tape.  After another mile it wasn't working, so, Presto!  I pulled out my trail running shoes, which I crammed into my small backpack. I put them on after applying another layer of duct tape and my feet were once again functional.  I continued, only experiencing slight discomfort and one small blister on each heel.

Between trail switchbacks and road switchbacks, we crossed the main road several times during our ascent.  At each crossing we noted more bikes than cars.  It would appear that more than a few dads were given a get-out-of-jail-free card and allowed to go peddling on this Father's Day morning.  Mt. Diablo provides good vertical climbing opportunities for area cyclists.  The trail we were on is also open in sections to mountain bikes.  From top to bottom the Summit Trail could be described as 65 percent single track, 30 percent maintained dirt road/firebreak, and 5 percent pavement or other.  We climbed up into burn areas, which reminded me of a lot of western hikes including Yellowstone.  Young pine saplings struggled to grow up among burned logs and scrub brush.  We learned about history and geology with the signs along the way.  Apparently, angered by tourists driving up a new toll road in the early 20th century, local ranchers were suspected of setting a fire that burned the platform at the top of the mountain.  That explains why the observation deck on top is now made of concrete and stone.

After climbing approximately 3,200 vertical feet, we reached a parking lot, visitor center, and observation deck/tower on top.  Mary and I always regard these things as anti-climactic.  Our primary motivation in mountain climbing is the journey, not the view.  But we're not nature-purists who shun the presence of asphalt in all situations.  It merely reminds of us of how much we enjoy wilderness.  We debated the worst such examples of "civilized mountains" we had seen.  Was it Bear Mountain, New York?  Mt. Washington, New Hampshire?  Clingman's  Dome, Tennessee?  Mt. Evans, Colorado?  Any worse than all the ski lifts on top of so many mountains now?  I guess the question is subjective and can't ever really be answered. 

The wind really picked up near the peak.  A strong warmish breeze was coming out of the South East.  It did serve to keep us a bit cooler up there than when we were lower down the mountain.  There were some bikers on the observation deck, but otherwise the parking lots sat empty.  The bikers were trying to describe some VERY distant mountains.  One of them could make out some snow capped peaks up in the Sierras, but it was just hazy enough over the Central Valley that the guesses about Yosemite and such weren't confirmed by landmarks.  But looking in 360 degrees we could see San Francisco, the Pacific Ocean, the Bay, San Jose, Mt. Tamalpais, and just about every landmark in the Bay Area.  Mary and I snapped some photos, including an image of an eyesore-quarry to the north of us.  I wonder what they are digging or mining there, and whether it is worth destroying a shoulder of this majestic mountain?  We asked the bikers to take a few shots of us and then we walked down off the observation deck.  We stuck our heads in the gift shop, which wasn't supposed to be open yet.  It was full of the usual knick-knacks.  There was a cooler full of ice cream for anyone a little more hungry than me, but I passed on the opportunity.

The descent was much easier than the climb.  We observed several hikers, some of whom appeared to be on "training hikes", schlepping large backpacks.  I felt bad for them because they still had to keep going up as the sun climbed in the sky and the mercury followed it.  At some point we came to an unmarked trail junction and guessed wrong, adding perhaps 2/3 of a mile to our trip.  Once we found the correct trail again we continued down through a lot of poison oak.  Some of it brushed my leg and I am still waiting to see if there is a reaction.  The heat was increasing, both because we were dropping elevation and because the sun was getting higher in the mid-day sky.  Dusty, hot, sweaty, and salty are the best adjectives to describe this part of our hike.

Coming back across that campground, we were happy to refill our empty water bottles and platypus.  Unlike the Juniper Campground we stayed in a few weeks earlier, this campground did not appear to have showers.  Darn, what I wouldn't have given to just hang my sweaty head in a shower for a few minutes. Oh, well, the faucet will do.

The grass on either side of the trail was full of the sound of scurrying voles and mice.  It is a bumper year for rodents, as I have also observed on other hikes.  Perhaps related to this fact, I also came upon a snake toward the bottom of the mountain.  I couldn't identify the species as it slithered out from in front of me.  I am normally very curious about such matters, but I wasn't about to wade into the grass after it on this hot day.

By the end of the hike Mary's phone app displayed 14.6 miles total, which was a little bit more than my maps and the signs indicated, but who is counting when it is 100 degrees outside?  Approximately 6 hours elapsed total, based in part on our leisurely pace.  We had each drank over a gallon of water by my estimate.  I left with a great sense of satisfaction.  Spending a morning with just Mary and getting in a good hike was worth a bit of heat and dust.

The car was still there when we got back, and there was no ticket affixed to the windshield.  Famished, we ate Father's Day lunch at Costco.  Because of our caloric deficit the pepperoni pizza never felt so guilt free.  After getting a quick bite, we proceeded to buy a bunch of stuff to fill our house with.  When we got home the kids had not burned the house down, but were uncomfortably warm because they didn't know how to turn on the AC unit.  Happy Father's Day!  :-)

Open Pit Mine

San Francisco

Mt. Tamalpais

Mary

What Species?