tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26506548647031629572023-11-16T08:50:34.964-08:00California Coastal Trail Self-Supported Fastest Known Time Report Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-66829587793826916192017-10-07T23:45:00.000-07:002017-10-26T22:36:31.073-07:00Intro, Route, Gear, Stats <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Often I felt like I had fallen into an episode of The Twilight Zone. There were so many miraculous coincidences, there was so much beauty, and also so much crazy danger. I met former JMT unsupported FKT holder Reinhold Metzger, ultrarunning and ultrarunning statistics legend Ken Young, a friend of a close ultrarunning friend, and ran into an ultra running friend who had no idea I was doing the trek! I met many souls who seemed to have a similar heart for travel. A man who had spent years sailing the ocean, another who had spent years traveling Asia (I met him on his 72nd birthday), and a two backpackers who were doing the CCT together from north to south, we met at approximately the halfway point! At the beginning of one trail I discovered I had lost my coat, and by the end I had a sweatshirt, a hat, and two granola bars. I saw headlamps from afar that led me to water in the middle of the night. I found a woman's purse complete with driver's license, credit cards, sunglasses, from the 70s. I found my way out of a sandstorm on fifty-foot high dunes (just in time to make my hotel reservation, which would have expired at 4am -- that was a 40+ mile day), scared away a mountain lion by screaming at the top of my lungs, climbed over slippery rocks, raced along the beach to beat the incoming tide, escaped the grasp of a farm worker who grabbed my arm, swam across a river carrying my gear on my head (twice), followed footprints when I couldn't see through the beach mist at night, tripped, fell, and passed out from the pain along the highway. I dealt with poison oak, an infected blister, and glasses scratched by sandy high-speed winds. I slept under trees beside the road, on the beach, and in campgrounds where I shared food with the homeless. By San Francisco I had started to resemble a homeless person and the homeless recognized me as one of their own, asking me for gear tips and warning me that the police were "on the war path."<br />
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Many mornings I woke up to breathtaking sunrises on the beach (if I wasn't too tired and sleeping in from a long night trek, taking advantage of the cooler temperatures and reduced traffic). Nearly every night I saw an awe-inspiring sunset over a deserted beach. I followed the trail through ocean caves, to the tops of mountains, through fern-filled forests with towering giant redwood trees. I saw beaches with soft white sand, course black sand, pebbles, and cliffs. I found a giant turban shell (which I mailed to my parents), starfish, sand dollars, and lots of seaweed. I heard reports of a beached whale and a human skull. I took two public ferries on the route, and an Uber through Camp Pendleton, since they wouldn't let me walk through, or traverse the highway on foot. I was stopped by four policemen who asked if I was okay, and countless drivers who offered to give me a ride. I was offered food on an almost daily basis, was under-charged, received free meals at restaurants when the owners heard what I was doing, even had someone pay my bill without asking any questions at all. I think he might have been frustrated I was taking too long to find my money. I was occasionally offered shelter, or told of a place to find good shelter (a heated art gallery in a 24 hour honor system payment organic farm stand!), got a free night at a deluxe suite in a hotel, an upgrade at another hotel, was able to book a room at 3am at a B&B in the middle of nowhere, where they said I arrived like a fairy out of the mist (their hotel was a fairytale for me). Near the end of my trip a couple offered me a free boat ride at 10 o'clock at night, and then a free cabin and food, all of which saved me a ten or more mile detour and allowed me to power through the last two days of the trek without sleeping.<br />
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At the end, my parents were there to meet me. I was too tired to be emotional, I had already cried days earlier when I knew they were in Oregon waiting for me, the pressure was on for me to finish my trek. I wanted to see them and be able to take a break. The next morning I awoke with a terrible headache and couldn't stop vomiting, I had to cancel my flight and reschedule for the next day, it appeared my body had been fighting something off. I was grateful I hadn't gotten sick during the journey itself.<br />
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I noted that I felt much better on the segments of the CCT that were on the coast, in the mountains, or otherwise in nature, than on the highway segments. I felt myself connected with the ocean and with the planet and contemplated the ways in which humans are a part of the earth -- the circadian rhythm, the way our bodies become part of the earth when we die. And I saw myself as prey for wild animals in a way I hadn't before. I encountered an elk, mountain lions, a wild boar, whales, sea lions, elephant seals, lizards, snakes, skunks, deer, and many varieties of my spirit animal, the squirrel. The wild blackberries and fennel of mid to northern California were always there to sustain me. Nature, the ocean, the wild, all were immensely beautiful but at times terrifying.<br />
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I was surprised how many people seemed to be inspired by my journey. A couple I encountered said a prayer to "Dr God" for me, praying that I would inspire others to take a leap of faith the way I did. <br />
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I began the trip knowing that I may have to stop at some point if the injuries I had been dealing with bothered me enough. Only a couple of weeks before I started my trek I had tried running with the running club in my hometown in Iowa, and was unable to do so without severe pain.<br />
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However, I had to start immediately and couldn't be too slow. I have been waiting for a security clearance for two years to start a job with the Navy as part of a scholarship I had in graduate school and in August found out that I would need to be available for an interview in October. I knew that if I wanted to complete the California Coastal Trail before mid-October I would need to start right away. So, I grabbed a few things and got an Uber to the Mexican border.<br />
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Luckily I was able to complete my trek injury free (with the exception of a few blisters, some shoulder pain on one side, and a rash), and finished in time for my interview.<br />
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Looking back at my SPOT and FitBit GPS data, I began the run on August 20th, 2017 at 12:10:58 and ended the run on October 4th, 2017 at 06:51:07. This works out to 44 days, 18 hours, 40 minutes and 9 seconds.<br />
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The trail is approximately 1,200 miles. Wikiloc says the route I took was 1,171 miles with 61,273 ft elevation gain and 60,016 ft elevation loss, a minimum elevation of -2 ft and maximum of 2,524 ft.<br />
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This works out to 26.1513 miles per day, almost a marathon.<br />
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My route data visualized on Wikiloc, the start and stop tags are backward, as I started at the border with Mexico:
<iframe frameborder="0" height="400" scrolling="no" src="https://www.wikiloc.com/wikiloc/spatialArtifacts.do?event=view&id=20129823&measures=off&title=off&near=off&images=off&maptype=S" width="500"></iframe><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #777777; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;">
Powered by <a href="https://www.wikiloc.com/" style="color: #0066dd; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;" target="_blank">Wikiloc</a></div>
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A Google Maps map I made of the route using my SPOT data:<br />
<a href="https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1Y24QKJTSnzyF3fX_Oim8edmGr6Y&ll=37.17948836194591%2C-120.76228000000003&z=6">www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1Y24QKJTSnzyF3fX_Oim8edmGr6Y&ll=37.17948836194591%2C-120.76228000000003&z=6</a><br />
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A link to my SPOT data from August 19th to October 4th, provided to me by SPOT. Note that I restarted the run on August 20th, so am using August 20th as my official start date. The SPOT timestamps seem to be seven hours ahead of Pacific time.<br />
<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0ByHLbwinI0Rcd0U3Zl9jdi1URjBxbnhaTVZvY0RwdDA1UUVF/view?usp=sharing">drive.google.com/file/d/0ByHLbwinI0Rcd0U3Zl9jdi1URjBxbnhaTVZvY0RwdDA1UUVF/view?usp=sharing</a><br />
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A link to my Strava page, which shows my FitBit GPS data. My FitBit stopped charging about three quarters of the way into the run and I abandoned using it.<br />
<a href="https://www.strava.com/athletes/2326452">https://www.strava.com/athletes/2326452</a><br />
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Some notes on my particular route:<br />
When I had to cross rivers I usually took the official alternate route so that I wouldn't have to hire a boat. If I encountered a section during high tide I sometimes also took the alternate route. A couple of sections of the trail were closed, so I had to take the highway. I had to get an Uber through Camp Pendleton because they wouldn't let me run through, and I couldn't run on the highway -- I figured this would be an issue every runner would encounter and Uber/Lyft are available to everyone for this section. I swam across one small river near the border with Mexico, waded across another, and took public ferries across two others, I also hired one private boat as the trail recommended. There were small sections that were not well marked where the trail seemed to disappear, I did the best I could to follow it. There was also one section where the trail markers differed from the official trail maps, I followed the markers.<br />
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I used the maps on the CCT website: http://californiacoastaltrail.info/hikers/hikers_main.php<br />
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And in the two volume book set, Hiking the California Coastal Trail by Bob Lorentzen and Richard Nichols: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0939431246/ref=ox_sc_sfl_title_1?ie=UTF8&psc=1&smid=A1ZJFHN599NNW3, and https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/093943119X/ref=ox_sc_act_title_2?smid=ATVPDKIKX0DER&psc=1<br />
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The day before I left on my trek I found the company 1DollarScan (http://1dollarscan.com/), which turns books into searchable PDFs, and mailed in my guidebooks so that I could have the PDFs on my phone. The PDFs were crucial when internet was unavailable and I couldn't access the CCT's website for maps. It turns out that my ultra running friend, Kawai Tatsuya, owns 1DollarScan! I happened to find this out as I was running through Santa Barbara. Kawai noticed that I had put in an order and reached out to me. We met at the Santa Barbara 100, a very tough race with 24,000 feet of elevation gain. SB100 was the 5th 100 mile race I had done in seven weeks and I was crying in pain around mile 80. I came to Kawai and he was so kind, he lifted my spirits. We talked of the monks in Japan who run. We ran the remainder of the race together, except a small section at the end -- I ran ahead to see if the finish line was indeed around the corner. I will never forget that race or how kind Kawai was. And, having those PDFs proved crucial to my success as more often than not I did not have cell service. I am not sure I would have been able to complete the journey without them.<br />
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I did the trek solo, self-supported. I did not meet any family or friends along the route, with the exception of one person I knew who I happened to run into at a Whole Foods in Santa Cruz, she thought I had moved to the area and had no idea I was doing the run. I did not get in any vehicles with the exception of those mentioned above. I had to make detours along the route to buy supplies, shoes, a jacket, etc. and when I did this I tried to leave from and return to the same place on the trail. I accepted gifts from trail angels I encountered, so if offered supplies, free meals from restaurants, or free housing/hotel rooms I sometimes took these offers. Nothing was pre-planned and I had never met any of these people before.<br />
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My initial gear:<br />
Nathan backpack<br />
Nathan handheld water bottle<br />
Three pairs Drymax Socks<br />
External battery pack<br />
Solar charger<br />
Visor<br />
Patagonia long sleeve shirt<br />
Two pairs compression shorts<br />
Two quick-dry t-shirts<br />
3/4 length inflatable sleeping pad<br />
Emergency bivy<br />
Two sports bras<br />
SPOT tracking device<br />
Money<br />
Checks<br />
Credit cards<br />
Debit card<br />
Driver's License<br />
Contacts<br />
Glasses<br />
Ponytail holders<br />
Micropore tape<br />
Tissues<br />
Alcohol wipes<br />
Earplugs<br />
Eyemask<br />
Phone and charger<br />
FitBit and charger<br />
Four extra AAA batteries for SPOT<br />
AA phone charger / flashlight and two extra AA batteries<br />
Safety pins (turned out to be useful for drying clothing on pack)<br />
Small brush/comb<br />
Toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, retainer<br />
Caffeine pills, Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Sudafed, Immodium<br />
Shampoo<br />
Mace<br />
Altra shoes<br />
Luna sandals<br />
Small AA flashlight<br />
Bose headphones<br />
House key<br />
Custom insoles<br />
Disposable razor<br />
Sticky gauze bandage -- did not use<br />
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I love my RunGoo but figured it would get gummed up with sand with all of the barefoot beach running. Later on I wished I had brought it as I got a small blister between my pinky and second to last toe that lasted until the end of the trip. I got an extra small jar of Tiger Balm and some Tea Tree Oil chapstick to put on it. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBaCkeBa5eye2V2WHhQKdglw2Nfvqne6e6zdh7p46olVEMPFmYO-jgJFR1uo6FDwKZXAQSuxwxGrGPajD3nrJhxhG9MTXPpfZ03STuW-px9FQW-HTbxgzLJpneBfwrs2Vg8zVgYVj2bSU/s1600/IMAG1104+%25282017-08-18T18_19_21.000%2529.jpg"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBaCkeBa5eye2V2WHhQKdglw2Nfvqne6e6zdh7p46olVEMPFmYO-jgJFR1uo6FDwKZXAQSuxwxGrGPajD3nrJhxhG9MTXPpfZ03STuW-px9FQW-HTbxgzLJpneBfwrs2Vg8zVgYVj2bSU/s640/IMAG1104+%25282017-08-18T18_19_21.000%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Along the way I picked up melatonin, NyQuil, and Tylenol PM to help me sleep, along with Turmeric and tart cherry packets from Whole Foods, and astaxanthin pills to help with inflammation and my sunburn. I also found a tiny all natural stick of sunscreen that I carried with me. It was crucial in southern CA but I didn't seem to need it by the time I got about halfway up the coast, either my base tan was dark enough, the sun wasn't intense, or the astaxanthin was working, maybe a combination. I also picked up a pair of nail clippers but discarded after using them as they seemed heavy. At one of the hotels I picked up a pair of sewing kits, and later used the sterile needles to lance blisters. Late in the trip I picked up neosporin to treat a blister I worried was infected. I also picked up a waterproof small notebook and Fisher Space Pen, which I used to take notes on upcoming sections.<br />
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After the first day (!) I left behind the solar charger and my Luna Sandals, as they were too heavy to carry on my back, using a shoulder pack. If I had been running in the sandals they would have been great and in fact, had I been more accustomed to wearing them they might have been perfect for the CCT, with all of its barefoot sections.<br />
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As the trip progressed and I moved north food and water sources began to get more scarce. I decided to order another solar charger online and have it delivered to a mailbox up ahead, in case I encountered a section without a place to charge my phone -- which had all my maps. Along the way I also tripped on a bump in asphalt on Highway 1, hit my elbow, and passed out from the pain. My small flashlight had died and I had reverted to using the one LED light on my AA phone charger, which turned out not to work very well at all for charging my phone in emergencies. So, I also ordered a rechargeable Petzl LED headlamp online and had that delivered to the same post office box, in San Francisco.<br />
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The emergency bivy turned out to sweat a lot and make me cold and the inflatable pad didn't seem to offer much more than the soft sand and I grass I was sleeping on already, so I got rid of the pad and stopped in at the nearest REI -- which turned out to be Santa Monica, to look for a replacement for the emergency bivy. I found the SOL "breathable" emergency bivy and grabbed it! --This turned out to be the perfect piece of equipment. I also bought a thicker coat for the upcoming colder northern temperatures, and a pair of tights -- which I later returned, so that I could get a pair of Patagonia mid-weight tight pants instead.<br />
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Somewhere along the trail (will have to look back through my notes to pinpoint where) I encountered a camp store and purchased a second emergency foil bivy, emergency blanket, and straw water filter -- which was absolutely necessary for many parts of the north section. I would put the SOL breathable bivy inside the foil bivy and use the emergency blanket for another layer of warmth when I needed it.<br />
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I'm not sure how, but I managed to lose my expensive coat... it could have been the high winds, or my sleep deprivation induced forgetfulness, but I went to put it on as the sun was going down one evening, and it was gone! As I got to the end of the trail I met Kim and Andy and told them about my trek. They thought I looked cold and offered to give me a hat and sweatshirt! I took both. They told me about a great restaurant up ahead, where I went, and went on to meet Elliot, who was having his 72nd birthday! We all had food, cake, and wine. Elliot insisted on giving me a fleece jacket. These layers were wonderful and I was so touched by the kindness of these trail angels. However, they were heavy for me to carry. I had to give away the sweatshirt and fleece and was able to mail the hat back to myself. At a glamping site where I stayed (glamorous camping), which charged a relatively high price to use the tent sites and showers, the owner gave me a more technical jacket and rainproof shell. These were great for a short time but again too heavy. I ended up giving them away and invested in a waterproof Kuhl jacket and fluffy coat that were perfectly my size. Later I realized the fluffy coat was also too heavy and mailed it home to myself after I found a kids' sized North Face puffy jacket.<br />
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I also bought a rain poncho at a supermarket along the way, which I used during both of the two times it rained on my trip.<br />
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I picked up the headlamp and solar battery in San Francisco, and got a new pair of Altra Olympus shoes at a store there, my old shoes were worn way down on the back outer corners. The headlamp proved invaluable, it made an amazing difference and allowed me to get through tough trail terrain at night. I don't know what I would have done without it, I should have had it all along. The solar charger got me through the Lost Coast portion of the trail, and when I got to somewhere near Petrolia I decided to mail it back to myself, it wasn't worth the extra weight anymore, I knew there would be towns close enough up ahead.<br />
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My external battery stopped charging partway through and I had to buy a new one at a cell phone store. The new one was actually lighter and lasted longer, so that was a plus.<br />
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Late in the trip I bought new socks because I had not been able to sufficiently wash my Drymax socks and was worried about the infection in my blister. I saved one pair of my beloved Drymax and bought two pairs of thicker socks -- all that was available at the store I happened upon. These socks turned out to make my feet sweat -- terrible!!! The only redeeming quality was that they were longer, and I used them to protect my legs from the pampas grass and other elements that cut up my shins terribly on the Lost Coast section. In retrospect I would bring a pair of high-top trail Drymax socks in addition to the low cut versions I brought with me.<br />
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After running through a huge amount of poison oak I decided to mail that outfit home, and for nearly half the trip only had one set of clothes.<br />
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I will try to enumerate the gear that I ended with -- Final Gear:<br />
Nathan backpack<br />
Nathan handheld water bottle<br />
Drymax socks (one pair, plus two pairs of other socks I had to buy on the way, next time would have Drymax socks mailed ahead and bring a one pair long socks and two pairs short socks)<br />
External battery pack<br />
Visor<br />
Patagonia long sleeve shirt<br />
One pair compression shorts<br />
One quick-dry t-shirts<br />
One sports bra<br />
SOL emergency bivy - breathable cloth-like version<br />
Emergency bivy -- metallic version<br />
Space blanket<br />
SPOT tracking device<br />
Money<br />
Checks<br />
Credit cards<br />
Debit card<br />
Driver's License<br />
Contacts<br />
Glasses<br />
Ponytail holders<br />
Micropore tape<br />
Tissues<br />
Earplugs<br />
Phone and charger<br />
Four extra AAA batteries for SPOT<br />
Safety pins (turned out to be useful for drying clothing on pack)<br />
Small brush/comb<br />
Toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, retainer<br />
Caffeine pills, Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Sudafed, Immodium<br />
Altra shoes<br />
Petzl headlamp<br />
Small notebook and pen<br />
Extra small Tiger Balm<br />
Small sunscreen<br />
Triple antibiotic<br />
Water filter straw<br />
Dual USB charger and extra cable (two USB slots, one double prong for outlet)<br />
Bose headphones<br />
House key<br />
Custom insoles<br />
Disposable razor<br />
Extra pair of Altra insoles (my arch on one foot bothered me at the beginning of the trip)<br />
Sticky gauze bandage -- did not use<br />
I was not able to get a precise weight on the pack but would guess around 5-8 pounds.<br />
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After meeting none other than JMT Reinhold aka Reinhold Metzger -- the former unsupported record holder on the John Muir Trail -- on the first day of my trek, in the middle of the night in downtown San Diego!, I carried nuts as my main source of backup fuel. Since towns were usually less than 30 miles apart I could get by with eating a lot in each town and carrying minimal additional calories. I believe the longest stretch between food resupply was roughly 60 miles, before and during the first segment of the Lost Coast. A 5oz package of macadamia nuts has 1,000 calories, this was my favorite source of fuel. Other times I carried standard dried fruit and nut trail mixes, whatever was available at the small convenience stores I encountered along the way.<br />
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I always carried one handheld water bottle of water and sometimes carried an additional repurposed softdrink bottle full of water in my other hand. Most times one bottle was sufficient. In southern CA there were parks with water fountains galore and in northern CA there were plenty of creeks.<br />
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Here I am after picking up my gear at the REI in Santa Monica, thanks Zachary Jubie for this photo!!<br />
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-31271041743018536572017-10-07T23:30:00.000-07:002017-11-07T15:18:18.141-08:00Day 1 - Aug. 20 <!-- He had threatened to have police give me citations if I didn't camp in designated areas, and had criticized my planning. I was doing this trip for myself, not for anyone else, why did anyone else care how I planned? It was my adventure. Still I cried as I exited the ferry from Coronado Island. His words had hurt me. A woman said I looked very fit and asked what I was doing, when she saw my tear streaked face she asked if I was okay. -->
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">Mexican border to Sunset Beach</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">I had to restart because I spent the night at a friend's house the night before -- a no-no for a self-supported run. I figured if I was going to carry everything on my back for the trip, I should get credit for a self-supported run. Luckily I learned this lesson on Day 1 and easily re-did my 25 or so miles for the day, Aug. 20th. Unfortunately I also had to repeat swimming across the Tijuana River with all my gear on my head...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYBe-JAFWyq/" style="color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-decoration-line: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Take two. I didn't realize staying at a friend's house would disqualify me from a "self supported" fastest known time on the California Coastal Trail. In retrospect it's obvious. But this gave me the opportunity to drop a few things I realized immediately were weighing me down, namely my solar charger. While it is a nice insurance it is really heavy. Thank you to my friends @ffcccompetetor_erlyell for taking my excess things for me, now I know that even giving extra things to a friend is considered support! So I plan to start my journey again this morning at the Mexico Border. I had also considered making this a vegan trip but wasn't vegan yesterday. This morning the uber driver by chance dropped me at an all vegan coffee shop (was on the way to the border but asked him to drop me at a coffee place first so I would be well fueled). So I can restart the vegan part too. Hopefully second time's the charm. #instablog #cct #californiacoastaltrail #vegan #fkt</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-20T16:59:34+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 20, 2017 at 9:59am PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">Here I am, about to begin the journey on Day 1. My Uber driver took this photo, he also gave me a pen, because he said he thought I might need it, to write down my experiences. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD322uF-4T/" style="color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-decoration-line: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#instablog</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:15:31+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:15am PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">The Uber driver:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJPKKBoMVpwohuGFcc4fZpI4wIhzScz6Nhj1WbNWl8IWTCRn4ArF22J3IKW2_nDVYGk82cc-M4hgOB_E8kbED8SMnmv1Cjt9sLZDU6vvGTzU350-614hOa08gWcSaJNNuFrhedl0Fzwk/s1600/IMAG1187+%25282017-08-20T12_04_26.000%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJPKKBoMVpwohuGFcc4fZpI4wIhzScz6Nhj1WbNWl8IWTCRn4ArF22J3IKW2_nDVYGk82cc-M4hgOB_E8kbED8SMnmv1Cjt9sLZDU6vvGTzU350-614hOa08gWcSaJNNuFrhedl0Fzwk/s320/IMAG1187+%25282017-08-20T12_04_26.000%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">I took this picture the day before but had to swim across the same river again when I restarted Aug. 20th.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">At the beginning of the trip I tried to use the #instablog hashtag to automatically post Instagram photos to my blog. After a few weeks I realized that I wouldn't have time to put anything other than Instagram photos on the blog, so it was superfluous. Don't mind the tags...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BX_LlkAF5ZD/" style="color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-decoration-line: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Survived swimming across the river, held my gear on my head and it all stayed dry, had to make two trips #instablog</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-19T19:31:43+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 19, 2017 at 12:31pm PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">When I had to re-start Aug. 20th a friend of mine asked whether I had considered the way "fkt" could also stand for "fuck it" in a carefree sort of way! I made a post with the fkt hashtag and hangten hands, then later that day saw this hangten sticker in a convenience store, I considered it a good omen.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD5n3glxaN/" style="color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; text-decoration-line: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#fkt 🤘</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:30:57+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:30am PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD5rLDFHZV/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:31:24+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:31am PDT</time></div>
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I ran through Coronado Island, took the ferry across, and then ran through the shops near the Star of India downtown, a place I used to run frequently when I lived in Banker's Hill in San Diego. <br />
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An acquaintance had taken his anger out on me through a text message I got on the ferry from Coronado Island and it upset me. But, just after my first trail marker, just past Seaport Village, I ran into Ernesto Mendoza and his children, who live in Mexico but were in San Diego for the weekend. He was so excited for my journey that he asked to take a photo with me. His energy lifted my spirits. And I felt good about my trip again.<br />
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Later on, seeing the ocean calmed me further. I had an overwhelming feeling that the ocean is bigger than my problems. Like an animal, the ocean doesn't know about my missteps and mistakes, and it is so much bigger than I am.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD5yuBFcpV/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#instablog #californiacoastaltrail</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:32:25+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:32am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD6FtYF6Dg/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#instablog #californiacoastaltrail</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:35:01+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:35am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD7G-mlU55/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#instablog #californiacoastaltrail ferry from Coronado to SD</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:43:56+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:43am PDT</time><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></div>
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An amazing coincidence, I ran into hiker legend Reinhold Metzger in the middle of the night on an empty city street in San Diego! I didn't get a picture of him so posted a picture I took the next morning:<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYD7tmVlC-a/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Last night around 10pm, on a residential street in San Diego, I ran into none other than Reinhold Metzger, aka "Jmt Reinhold," former unsupported fkt record holder of the John Muir Trail. He was hiking with a backpack full of weights, training. . . . . #instablog #californiacoastaltrail</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T15:49:12+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 8:49am PDT</time></div>
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Here is a real picture of Reinhold, we talked for about an hour, the neighbors complained we were being too loud late at night! He gave me some great tips, one in particular being that I should have a daily mileage goal. I set my goal at 30 miles per day. I wasn't always able to meet that goal, but it definitely helped motivated me. I am extremely grateful to have run into Reinhold, and that he shared his wisdom with me.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4a6Li8MmWXmx5dLwaKPw-vNGOcXyovLNLGCY7dFvhT4RDsEqC0qNlPB6BjJvrdslGZMWpvuRqGkAxOCX9tLF84DqT_J6m9q5lpHas7R8sBLD8Wc6POVXxS1zA73JM1-VozrfGG6FSps/s1600/Reinhold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="234" data-original-width="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4a6Li8MmWXmx5dLwaKPw-vNGOcXyovLNLGCY7dFvhT4RDsEqC0qNlPB6BjJvrdslGZMWpvuRqGkAxOCX9tLF84DqT_J6m9q5lpHas7R8sBLD8Wc6POVXxS1zA73JM1-VozrfGG6FSps/s1600/Reinhold.jpg" /></a></div>
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An article about Reinhold: </div>
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<a href="http://legacy.sandiegouniontribune.com/sports/outdoors/20030929-9999_mz1s29outdor.html">http://legacy.sandiegouniontribune.com/sports/outdoors/20030929-9999_mz1s29outdor.html</a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small; letter-spacing: normal; white-space: normal;">Reinhold had told me to take a certain street to get to the beach but I was trying to follow the trail as closely as possible. Unfortunately Reinhold knew better than the trail map. I arrived at a gate that looked like private property. I walked down the street and took a detour to get back to the trail. I tried to go through a college but the night guard said that I had to have an ID, he confirmed that the gate I saw was private property and told me the best way to get to the beach. Finally, I made it to Sunset Beach, where I crashed for a few hours, only interrupted by a couple hiking at night who I startled. I thought they were the police, they thought I was the police!</span></span>Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-49340639243803405012017-10-07T23:00:00.000-07:002017-10-09T10:57:37.718-07:00Day 2 - Aug. 21<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">Sunset Beach to San Elijo State Beach</span><br />
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I awoke to a man walking his dog and hurriedly gathered my things. Only a few miles down the road I stopped in at a beachside coffee shop where a woman recognized me from my Uber dropoff at the border the day before! I enjoyed a San Diegan acai bowl and large soy latte while charging my devices.<br />
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Heading out, I ran though San Diego, passing places I often ran with my running friends -- the West Coast Road Runners and Trail Crashers when I lived in San Diego, during graduate school. I still miss this running regularly with the Trail Crashers, we shared so many miles, and so much pain together. Now that I live in Riverside it's been harder to make the 6am runs 3 hours away from me. I still join them occasionally and think of them often. They are part of my inspiration for running. I love that group. Robert was there for me on many long runs when I went through a hard breakup in graduate school. I asked him if he wanted to run the San Diego 50 with me, my first 50 mile race, we trained together -- my training fell off with school -- and both completed the race! Now we've both graduated to 100s, Robert to 200s. Gloria gave me the backpack I used during this trek, years ago. I thought of her often during the run. She cheered for me the whole way through and prayed for me every day.<br />
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I ran through the bay, the harbor, through Torrey Pines, Black's Beach (a nude beach where a nude man grabbed my calf!), and Solana Beach. I knew there would be ample water via drinking fountains, and food along my miles today. It was nostalgic. Today was also eclipse day, I tried to take a photo with my phone but was unsuccessful.<br />
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I made it to San Elijo State Beach, which had a designated camping area. I was late getting in and all the regular sites were full, but there was still room for hikers and bikers! The hiker/biker sites were also only $10, as opposed to the regular $35. The woman at the window looked skeptical that I had run from Mexico, but took my word :) She let me charge all of my devices in her office until it closed.<br />
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My site was right next to another man's site, who offered me a tortilla with beans cooked over a fire. I obliged. It turned out he was homeless and lived at various campsites with just a tent and a few belongings. He had just gotten a job at the gas station across the street. He rushed out to get me toilet paper to clean my hands with, and maps from the ranger station. And then he told me about how it could be difficult to get through Camp Pendleton. We did some mental math concerning my running and arrived at the same answer about the same time, he was bright, kind, and somehow still homeless. He did say he liked surfing, that was his passion. <br />
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I had trouble sleeping that night and got up early to start running again. The homeless man had warned me about ants near my site but I didn't want to sleep on the hard picnic table as he had suggested. I awoke to ants crawling all over me, and my gear. Over the next two days I would continue to find ants crawling along the brim of my visor as I ran. I left the man my shower tokens.
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-21T22:23:25+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 21, 2017 at 3:23pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-22T15:47:42+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 22, 2017 at 8:47am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYGg5zqFkEg/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#instablog #californiacoastaltrail</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-22T15:52:40+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 22, 2017 at 8:52am PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-22T15:56:37+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 22, 2017 at 8:56am PDT</time></div>
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-41580000205859331332017-10-07T22:30:00.000-07:002017-10-09T10:57:46.408-07:00Day 3 - Aug. 22<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">San Elijo State Beach to San Clemente</span><br />
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I ran on, past Carlsbad and Oceanside, familiar places from my time in San Diego. Carlsbad was where I ran my first marathon in California and where I had gone to see a number of concerts.<br />
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I stopped in a cafe to recharge my phone and get a vegetable sandwich, bagel with peanut butter, and coffee. I put in ten or more miles in the early morning but was feeling fatigued from the lack of sleep. I had a talk with my parents on the phone to check in. My left arch was hurting me, it seemed the extra foam the technician had added to the custom made insole was too much. I tried to shave it down by rubbing in against the cement. Every opportunity I got I would run barefoot on the beach.<br />
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I made it to the gate for Camp Pendleton. The guard directed me to the visitor center, where I had a long conversation with the woman behind the counter. She said that bikers with bikes and helments were allowed to cross the base, but not pedestrians, a new rule. She said that I would need an in-person escort with base access to be allowed through the gate. I told her I had had a DoD SMART scholarship in graduate school and was waiting for a security clearance right now -- that didn't matter. Thinking about the spirit of doing a self-supported run though, I figured that base access is something that might not be available to every person trying to do the trail. So, it made sense not to try to use anything specific to myself or my friends (I did have one friend who had offered to help me through one of his contacts at the base) to gain access. The woman behind the counter was nice enough to Google whether highway running was allowed and couldn't find anything prohibiting it, she directed me to some restaurants nearby.<br />
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I backtracked to the Denny's and ate a big meal of hashbrowns, fruit, and toast, with lots of coffee, in anticipation of another 20+ mile segment on the highway. Finally ready to go I jogged over -- only to find a large "no pedestrians allowed" sign!<br />
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With no other recourse, I decided calling an Uber/Lyft was my only option. I had run the idea of Uber/Lyft by a moderator on the FKT proboard site and they had said it would make sense if that was the only option, and if the car service was available to everyone. Within minutes my driver arrived and I directed him to take the first possible exit. The woman at the visitor center had told me where the base ended and I triple checked my maps to be sure I wouldn't miss any segments of the trail / would have the shortest possible car ride.<br />
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Things seemed to work out well, he dropped me off at San Onofre State Beach, where I made my way down to the Ocean. It was a 20 mile car ride.<br />
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I was relieved to be hiking along the calm beach again. There were hardly any people, unlike the beaches I had come through in San Diego that were filled with crowds day and night. I saw many shelters made with large branches along the beach, and a group of surfers, which made me feel somehow at home. The Camp Pendleton experience was jarring. I hiked a few miles down the beach, and opted to take a half mile detour into the town of San Clemente to stay at a hostel, where I had booked a room earlier, thinking I would run the twenty miles of highway. I had been tempted to cancel my reservation and put in more miles, but the sun was setting and I was ready to be around some free spirits. The hostel, House of Trestles, was filled with surf paraphernalia and graffiti artwork done by LA street artists-in-residence. It was a welcome haven complete with a washer and dryer where I happily washed my clothes.<br />
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I talked to one of the employees who was formerly a professional/sponsored surfer and shared a room with a German backpacker who planned to take surfing lessons at the beach nearby in the morning. The group had gone on a bar crawl the night before, missing it was bittersweet, it would have been fun to meet the interesting people associated with the hostel, but would also have taken time and likely left me with a hangover. Probably good I missed it. I thoroughly enjoyed all of the artwork though. It refreshed me and I thought about how doing my artist residency at the Vermont Studio Center two years ago after my series of six 100 mile races in eight weeks and subsequent injuries had similarly renewed me, and led to my comeback 17:24 100 mile race. Maybe a mental break from running, experiencing something in a completely different realm, like art, renews the body somehow too. I remember reading that the king of ultra running, Yiannis Kouros, had a number of hobbies outside running.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYJx5W4FQQp/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-23T22:18:52+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 23, 2017 at 3:18pm PDT</time></div>
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-78410295857881798032017-10-07T22:00:00.000-07:002017-10-09T10:57:55.669-07:00Day 4 - Aug. 23<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">San Clemente to Newport Beach / Santa Ana River</span><br />
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In the morning I waited for the complimentary bagels and fruit to arrive before heading out. Showering, sleeping in a real bed, and being around all of the artwork and open-minded people had refreshed and inspired me.<br />
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I headed out, running past Capistrano Beach, a beach I had driven to from Riverside once to explore and run, then Dana Point, and 1000 Steps Beach, where I got a picture looking down at the Ocean many steps below. I was moving into territory familiar to me after moving to Riverside two years ago. The beaches I passed were the sites of fun day trips I had taken alone to run the trail next to the beach, or with friends on vegan restaurant and new-age boutique or running outings.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYJydl2lHlY/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Water and food have been ubiquitous so far #californiacoastaltrail</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-23T22:23:49+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 23, 2017 at 3:23pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYLlLv-FW7e/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-24T15:06:16+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 8:06am PDT</time></div>
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I ran past Laguna Beach, where I had met with the director of the Laguna College of Art and Design about an MFA the year before. He had liked my work and wanted me to join the program but I decided to fulfill my obligation to the scholarship I had and wait for the clearance. Luckily I navigated the trail correctly through Laguna. At the beach I thought I needed to climb up a ledge, I almost got stuck, luckily there was a man down below who helped me off. I decided to hike up to the sidewalk -- which turned out to be where the trail really was! Soon I came to a huge CCT trail marker inlaid in the sidewalk with an arrow pointing to the left that said "Mexico 102," and an arrow to the right that said "Oregon 1,128."
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYLk2tlFMLA/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-24T15:03:24+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 8:03am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYKH1N7Fasw/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Mexico 102, Oregon 1,128</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-24T01:30:33+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 23, 2017 at 6:30pm PDT</time></div>
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I ran on to Crystal Cove, a little wooden resort town on the beach. I paused to charge my phone in a public restroom. Night had fallen and the restaurant looked to be closing, I made a beeline. All of the food was expensive and I felt out of place sitting in the nice dining area, so I grabbed a seat at the bar. The bartender was exceptionally nice. She was impressed with what I was doing. I ordered a beer, which I drank quickly. As I was getting ready to go the bartender returned with a paper coffee cup filled with a hot creamy soup -- it might have been clam chowder, and a handful of oyster crackers, which she put in a bag for me. She told me not to drink from the cup until I was off the property, that there were cameras and she wasn't allowed to give out free soup, but she wanted to help me out. As I walked out into the night, having run approximately twenty miles earlier and still hoping to get in another ten, I sipped the hot soup. I was hungry and the soup was divine, especially in the cool night air. I decided my policy for the trip would be vegan with the exception of free food offered by trail angels.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYLpqy4FIjQ/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Ended up here around 9:30pm last night, nothing else open and not serving food, so I got a beer. This is a cool little community on the beach.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-24T15:45:27+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 8:45am PDT</time></div>
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I meandered through trails in a park, then made my way toward Balboa Island. Closing in on Balboa I realized I would need to get a ferry. I doubted it would be operating at 1am and so mentally prepared for a night crashing behind a building or staying awake and waiting for the ferry office to open. When arrived, however, I was overjoyed to find that the ferry ran until 2 am!!
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The ferry was operated by Captain Bruce Pierce, who had spent years sailing the ocean! and assistant Quiotee who lived out of his van near San Diego, went to school, and travelled. We talked for an hour, they were kindred spirits.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYLqk37l-L6/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Had to take my second ferry, lucked out that it goes until 2am. I arrived around midnight, thought I'd have to wait/sleep in an alley on Balboa Island until morning. Instead I met two amazing kindred traveler spirits -the ferry captain and first mate, and ran five more miles on the beach.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-24T15:53:23+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 8:53am PDT</time></div>
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I ran past Newport Beach, where I had once left my car in a parking garage next to the Whole Foods so that I could run up to Long Beach some 20+ miles ahead and take the bus back.<br />
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And I made it to the mouth of the Santa Ana River. This was an emotional moment for me, as my favorite place to run in Riverside is the Santa Ana River Trail. It stretches ten miles north and ten miles south of Riverside. On the south side it breaks for the city of Corona, then restarts at the golf course at the edge of the city and goes all the way to the beach. One night I parked my car at the Corona golf course and ran the thirty miles to the beach. Arriving at that point on the Santa Ana River Trail, the mouth of the river, meant a lot to me, and I took a photograph to commemorate the occasion, even though it was blurry.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYLq9aCFtWb/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">This picture sucks but it's the Santa Ana River Trail. The same trail I train on at home in Riverside!!! I've run here from my house!!! #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-24T15:56:44+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 8:56am PDT</time></div>
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Exhausted, I saw a tent set up in front of a shallow cement wall along the beach, near a bathroom, just on the other side of the trail, and decided to lay out my bivy bag nearby, also in the shadow of the short wall. I saw a woman on a bike who had too much energy, she must have just been waking up for her 4am ride. I crashed for a couple of hours, sweaty and cold in my emergency space-blanket type bivy.<br />
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<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-43426734152500612042017-10-07T21:30:00.000-07:002017-10-09T13:34:09.328-07:00Day 5 - Aug. 24<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">Newport Beach / Santa Ana River to San Pedro</span><br />
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I awoke with the sun and ran a few miles, down a bike path I had run in training and with a friend a couple of times, to a group of stores and restaurants that were just opening. Google Maps told me there was a Starbucks less than half a mile away so I made a short detour. I saw no Starbucks, but there was another coffee shop, so I stopped to put up my feet, charge my phone, and have breakfast -- two large soy lattes, bananas, and packaged vegan protein cookies.
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I looked for a jacket at a nearby store but couldn't find what I wanted. An employee told me about an outdoor store up ahead and I planned to look for it in Long Beach.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYLpNbSltYK/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Do my legs look stronger after ~120 miles? Didn't sleep well last night so putting my feet up at a coffee shop while my devices charge.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-24T15:41:27+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 8:41am PDT</time></div>
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I ran a few miles further to Bolsa Chica State Beach and stopped at The Secret Spot for a large salad with vegan faux chicken. I used to come here with my trail and ultra running buddy Isaiah, I had to stop in. When I told the owners what I was doing they said my meal was free!! I was overjoyed.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYMQSVWl_u7/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Made it to the vegan restaurant I go to with friends in Riverside! It's right on the route!</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-24T21:22:54+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 2:22pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYRDpWllqAF/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Trying to commune with my spirit animal</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T18:08:39+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 11:08am PDT</time></div>
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I ran on toward Long Beach. I was listening to music and in the zone, running. I didn't notice that I made a wrong turn. I ended up running two miles out of the way, and had to run the same two miles to get back to the trail. I half considered this my karmic payback for something that had happened in Long Beach a few years ago. The outdoor store appeared to have been shut down. I did find an REI not too far out of the way in Santa Monica and planned to stop there. The Vitamin Shoppe was on my way back from the detour and I stopped to buy some vegan protein bars. As I was checking out I told the woman behind the counter about my run. She gave me a handful of free womens' vitamin packets.<br />
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I made it to a section of bike path I remembered well -- I had won a half marathon there. It was also where an ultrarunner friend used to live, we had run there together a few times. And it was the site of an all night training walk/jog I had done with Ed Ettinghausen "The Jester," and friends. Ed holds multiple world records in ultrarunning, including "Most 100 mile races in a year." He lives in a neighboring town and I see him frequently at races, he was at the first 100 mile race I ever ran and he and has been a great mentor, he and his wife great friends and supporters. I had Thanksgiving with them one year, and Christmas another, when I couldn't get home for the holidays. Ed was training a group to run their first 100 mile race, the EC100. I vividly remembered that training run because I had been looking at artwork at the Getty Museum and drove over when I heard about the run. All I had were sandals, but friend Andy lent me his oversized shoes and socks. Maureen and Andy and I talked about the angelic experiences she had while running, a man who pointed her to the trail in a blizzard and another who gave her ice water in a desert.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYMnvG1loTl/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">I remember this section, I won a half marathon here (my best half marathon). And walked through the night with a group training for their first 100. I didn't have running shoes but was nearby so @noisecruenation let me borrow his. A memorable 20+ miles :) #cct #californiacoastaltrail</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-25T00:47:49+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 24, 2017 at 5:47pm PDT</time></div>
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I ran on through a portion of bike path I had never run before, past a few homeless and a few people on bikes, as the sun was setting. The trail took me into the city of Los Angeles, across freeway entrance/exit ramps. The CCT is definitely diverse! I stopped at a gas station to buy sunflower seeds and gum, my walking staples at home, and a mexican peanutbutter candy that I assumed was vegan. As I was looking for my money the man in line behind me told me just to go, that he would pay my bill! He had no idea what I was doing, I can only speculate that he knew I was on some kind of quest by the way I was dressed, thought I could be homeless, or was frustrated that I was taking too long to find my money. In any case, I was grateful, and went on my way...<br />
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I used a port-o-potty at a late night Mexican restaurant and ran through an industrial section that looked like a cityscape by itself.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ4a6KF6SD/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">LA factory lights look like a cityscape #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T16:30:34+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 9:30am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ4zDOF97-/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">The California Coastal Trail is diverse! #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T16:33:51+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 9:33am PDT</time></div>
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I ran on, knowing that the Sunset Hotel awaited me, if I could just make it there... it was a long mileage day (41 after my 4 mile mistake), and my legs hadn't yet adjusted to daily high mileage. I got to the hotel late that night and felt like I had just run a fifty mile race. I bought a few items from the vending machine, cheese puffs -- I realized too late that they weren't vegan. After running through downtown LA at night I was so relieved to be here, taking a shower, watching TV (I don't own a TV). I laid down and put my legs in the air, resting my feet on a wall to let the blood drain out of them while I reveled in a mindless gameshow.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ5n9Tld3k/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Boy was I happy to find this hotel right on my route, after doing (FitBit tells me) 40 miles that day. Legs felt like I had run an ultra, was hobbling around. But woke up a new person and put in 30 more miles. No time for a good selfie.. was out the door.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T16:41:05+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 9:41am PDT</time></div>
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-45092593576323341502017-10-07T21:00:00.000-07:002017-10-09T10:58:12.754-07:00Day 6 - Aug. 25<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">San Pedro to Dockweiler Beach</span><br />
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In the morning I had multiple oatmeal packets at the hotel's continental breakfast before heading out. I followed the online CCT map, which differed from the route the two women who had done the trail the previous year had taken. Perhaps it was high tide. The trail was right next to the ocean, a small ledge of rocks that went on and on. I saw a couple other people out on the rocks and then CCT trail markers! So knew I was on the right track.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ65HLFGi3/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">One of my favorite parts of the trail so far, it went on like this for miles hugging the cliffs.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T16:52:10+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 9:52am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ7VSCl7Of/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Have to prove I was here!</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T16:56:00+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 9:56am PDT</time></div>
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Eventually I came to a high end golf course. I bought a few snacks at a small shop and the boy working there told me I should check out the coffee shop on the golf course grounds. I made my way there, it was a little further out of the way that I had anticipated, but I could see why he said I should make a stop. They had a make your own trail mix bar and smoothies with hiking related names. After ordering a few expensive vegan side dishes while charging my phone I decided to grab some of the trail mix, mostly nuts. Though Reinhold had told me nuts are the best fuel to carry, aside from pure oil, as they are mostly fat, and fat has the most calories per gram.<br />
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I filled up a bag with various kinds of nuts and brought it to the counter. The checkout person asked if I'd like it charged to my room -- wasn't it obvious I wasn't staying there? I said no... He didn't weigh the nuts and charged me only $3. I think I should have paid $40, they were going for something like $20 a pound. Thank you kind barista!!
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ9yzwFz3X/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Looking back at what I accomplished today #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T17:17:31+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 10:17am PDT</time></div>
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I ran on through Palos Verdes, where the trail turns were extremely well marked, though sometimes different from the online trail map.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYQ8EZwlLFC/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">And a 5th kind of CCT trail marker! The section through Palos Verdes was extremely well marked, nearly every turn. The directions didn't completely match either the online trail map or the girls' GPS. But I followed the signs.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-26T17:02:27+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 10:02am PDT</time></div>
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I ran on... night fell and I scared a group of teenagers who were hanging out beside the trail, in a residential part of Palos Verdes. I apologized for startling them and kept running. I saw a police officer who asked if it was my car parked up ahead, no, it wasn't. I saw the police detain someone for having the car parked there. The trail marked on the map led to a locked gate at a swimming pool, right next to the police scene. I sat down on a bench to figure out another way down to the beach. I found a path that wasn't too much of a detour, though navigating with my cheap flashlight would be tricky, I started to realize.<br />
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In the first beach section of the day I had been looking for a special shell, I found a small turban. As soon as I set foot on the new segment of beach that night I spotted a giant turban shell, bigger than I had ever seen before. Amazed, I picked it up, determined to carry it to the nearest post office and mail it home, or to my family. We have a tradition of looking for shells on the beaches of Florida, where we would often go for vacations. A few years ago my parents got a condo in south Florida, near our regular vacation spot -- Sanibel and Captiva Islands. I had not had much luck looking for shells in California and was overjoyed with such a find. It again seemed like a good omen for the trip.
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That night I ran through Redondo Beach, Manhattan Beach, and El Segundo. A young guy on a bike offered me a beer, I said no... I didn't feel completely safe running through these beach towns at night. I passed a motel and considered staying, but wanted to get in a few more miles, so ran on. By the time I made it to LAX I was exhausted and looking for a place to crash. There were a few homeless staying on the beach there. I ran on, until I saw a set of fire pits, Dockweiler Beach, I figured it might be okay to camp there, or at least safer than camping in the open, so laid down my bivy bag and got a couple hours of sleep.<br />
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-38013597470797000952017-10-07T20:30:00.000-07:002017-10-09T10:58:21.575-07:00Day 7 - Aug. 26<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">Dockweiler Beach to Malibu Lagoon State Beach</span><br />
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<!-- 0-3009579 34.03241 -118.68529 27-Aug-2017 7:31:31 EXTREME-TRACK SPOT3 -->I woke up to a park service worker driving a vehicle around the beach, presumably cleaning up the area. I packed up quickly, worried that I might not be allowed to camp there.<br />
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I ran down the beach, following a bike path into the city. I stopped at a Starbucks to charge my phone for a couple of hours and get coffee after another night with little sleep.<br />
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Caffeinated and well fed I headed out, soon running by a UPS store, where I was able to mail my parents the large turban shell. I tried to mail my brother the small one but couldn't find his address in my phone. I held onto the shell.<br />
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Running on, I made it to Venice beach, filled with shops and people. Allen Cohen's wife was doing a reading of his poetry.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWje9AFxYe/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Allen Cohen's wife reading his poetry</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:23:03+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:23pm PDT</time></div>
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I bought cut fruit from a vendor and wondered on, enjoying the music, poetry, hula-hoopers, and tourists. I stopped to say hello to a man with a stand about veganism, since I was trying to be vegan on my trip. He said his name was "Jingles," and that he had been in Venice Beach supporting veganism for twenty years or more. I bought a pin from him and he encouraged me to get the three pin deal. I picked out a peace sign with flowers and asked him for help choosing the other two. One said "Be a Superhero for Animals, Go Vegan," and the other said "No to War, No to Racism."
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWj1Talb3F/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">I stopped to talk to Jingles since I'm going vegan on this journey. He gave me a few buttons for the road, and a jingle bell</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:26:06+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:26pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcJRD0F6Zo/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">I walked through Venice Beach and came out with these</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:29:25+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:29pm PDT</time></div>
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I ran on to Santa Monica and made a detour inland to look for some warmer clothes at the REI. I bought an expensive coat, on sale, tights, a sturdier bivy bag, Fisher Space Pen, small waterproof notebook, and a host of bars. As I walked out of the store I noticed that I was missing my emergency foil bivy, I must have lost it at the REI... I retraced my steps and realized the new bivy was really weighing me down... I asked if I could return it and look for something else. The clerk obliged. An employee helped me look over my options, I selected a breathable SOL emergency bivy, along with a new emergency foil bivy and emergency blanket. <br />
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I met an employee there, Zach, who was almost more excited for my run than I was! He took my picture and posted immediately on the REI employee Facebook group. It was inspiring. He told me that the breathable bivy I had selected was invented by an ultrarunner wanting to do fastpacking expeditions, the only difference in the one I bought was the color -- orange instead of green. It sounded like I had made the perfect choice. And indeed, that bivy, which I put inside the foil bivy for extra warmth, turned out be a great sleeping arrangement.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWj6biFPl6/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:26:48+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:26pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWkDluFN_P/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:28:04+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:28pm PDT</time></div>
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I headed up the coast, towards Malibu. I walked past a truck selling fruit and asked if he sold anything for $2, all the cash I had. The vendor said that he never sold the small baskets individually but that he would make an exception for me... I got a delicious basket of farmer's market strawberries for $2. <br />
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As I passed a residential area a man stepped out of a car to ask me if I could run ahead and look at the house number. He had reserved an Air BnB room but couldn't find the house and his ankle was badly swollen, he showed me. He said that I looked smart. What a compliment! I was happy I could be of service and ran ahead to tell him the house number.<br />
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On I went, thinking of my favorite podcast host, Rich Roll, who lives somewhere in Malibu. The trail took me to Topanga Beach. As I rounded the point at the end of the beach, stepping around a metal fence embedded in the sand, I looked up and felt as though I had entered another world. A fine mist covered everything, huge mountains loomed in the background and the beautiful ocean stretched out in front of pristine houses on stilts. I wondered who had the privilege of living in such a place. A topless woman danced in the surf in front of a male companion. I said hello to a man walking his dog and asked if the tide was coming in, he confirmed it was. As I ran down the beach, the waves drew closer and closer, beginning to lap at the stilts beneath the houses. Trapped, I ran for the nearest set of stairs. They went up to a private residence and I prayed the owner had left the door unlocked.... they had! I was able to get out and join the highway.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYSKQwAl_Av/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-27T04:25:42+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 26, 2017 at 9:25pm PDT</time></div>
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I ran along Highway 1 into the city, stopping at a gas station to get protein bars. The clerk said I should try to find a place to stay and offered the bench near the bus station. I had tried to secure a hotel earlier, when I had had an internet connection, but was unsuccessful. I ran by a hotel I recognized from my internet search that had a vacancy sign, so I stopped in. Unfortunately there was a defect in the neon light, and there were no rooms left. Every other hotel in the area appeared to cost upwards of $300 a night, so I kept running. I stopped in a McDonald's briefly to charge my phone.<br />
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I made it to a small park and then followed the trail to a beach in front of another residential area. Unfortunately the tide was very high and I knew I couldn't make it down the beach, I retreated to the park. I wasn't sure what to do. I sent a message to the FKT board moderator and asked if I could make a detour for high tide. My phone battery was low again and I tried to charge it with my AA emergency charger, it gave the phone a boost long enough that I could contact my friend Johannes in Germany who was up at that late hour, to express my distress. I decided to camp in the park and try the route in the morning. First I tried the beach, but a police car showed up at the gate to the residential street nearby, and I wondered if it was because of me, so I moved to a trail that was more secluded and parked myself beside a trash can. No sooner had I gotten into my bivy than a man walked by, I felt so embarrassed, for some reason, and apologized to him. He looked startled and confused, didn't say anything, and continued walking. I went back to a picnic table near some bushes, and waited... no one came by for half an hour. Finally I calmed down, and was able to set up camp, and sleep, albeit in plain sight of the houses overlooking the park.<br />
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-34485007295048229692017-10-07T20:00:00.000-07:002017-10-09T15:06:01.884-07:00Day 8 - Aug. 27<!-- start: 34.03245 -118.68542, stop: -->
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">Malibu Lagoon State Beach to Point Mugu State Beach Campground</span><br />
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I awoke with the sun and gathered my things, grateful I had found a safe place to sleep, for nearly seven hours according to my SPOT data. My maps were all on my phone, the PDFs of the guidebooks and the maps on the CCT website, my battery was low and I knew I needed to find a place to charge ASAP. I headed down the beach, now passable. <br />
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I met a woman walking her dog and said hello, explaining my quest, she was blown away! She said she lived in one of the houses on the beach. I didn't get her name, she must have been some kind of superstar, or married to one. She pointed me to some restaurants down the way where I could charge my phone. She said that she would let me charge at her house except that her husband was just getting up (it was around six am). He came out to wave at her. She took down my name so that she could follow my journey. Meeting her boosted my spirits.<br />
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Continuing down the beach I overheard a couple who appeared to be practicing lines for a movie. A lot of the beach was in front of private property, but I had heard, according to California law, all beaches are public up to the high tide line, if you're just passing through. I felt privileged to be able to walk here, seeing the same ocean views that celebrities and the super wealthy saw from their houses just to my right. I marveled at the beauty of the beach. This was by far my favorite place on the trek so far. And after covering the entire coast, I would still say the segment just after Topanga State Beach, and Malibu, are my favorite.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYTmCEEF2T_/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Keep hearing Belinda Carlisle's "Heaven is a Place on Earth"</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-27T17:47:36+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 27, 2017 at 10:47am PDT</time></div>
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I said hello to a young man walking his dog, he looked familiar, maybe another movie star. I was in awe of the architecture of some of the houses, huge columns of marble. These houses were artistic masterpieces.<br />
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The restaurant the woman had mentioned appeared to be too far out of the way, so I stopped at a gas station near the route. Luckily they let me charge my phone at a hidden outlet near the fountain (I wonder how many gas stations in the US have fountains!). I bought extra batteries for my SPOT, and some breakfast -- coffee and vegan bars, and ate while my phone charged. There was another cafe on the map, a few miles ahead, I just needed to make it there, and then planned for a longer charging session. <br />
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Things definitely would have been easier if I wasn't so tied to having a charged phone. If I could have spent every night in a hotel and charged while I slept that would have been ideal. <br />
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After a few miles of pristine beach I arrived at the cafe, which was more a restaurant, a happening place with a full parking lot. The hostess directed me to sit at the bar to order my smoothie. A man sitting alone at the bar, eating his breakfast made a joke about ordering me a vodka drink. I laughed. Someone asked me if I lived there, I said no, and asked him if he lived there, also no. I asked the vodka man if he lived in Malibu -- indeed he did! He said his house overlooked the beach and was just around the corner. He would drive his golf cart to get from his house to the restaurant. He offered to let me charge my phone with his quick-charge external battery, which I understood was in his vehicle. While he ate his breakfast I found an outlet by the door and charged, waiting for him. Finished with his breakfast he said, "let's do this!" I thought it kind of odd that charging my phone at his car merited such a response. We walked up a flight of stairs to get to his golf cart, but it turned out his charger was at home... he offered to give me a ride to his house and let me charge my phone there, but I told him I wasn't allowed to get in any vehicles. I thanked him and returned to the restaurant to continue charging. It was perhaps a once in a lifetime opportunity to see the inside of one of those beachfront Malibu houses but I didn't want to make a detour for it, and didn't feel entirely comfortable with the situation either.<br />
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I walked on. A few miles later, a young, arguing couple asked me for directions. I had arrived at a public beach. I told them what I knew. A man up ahead turned around to correct me, and then explained more about the history of the beach in front of us. He told me about the movie stars who lived there -- I told him about my cafe experience. It turned out that he lived in Beverly Hills, he was in the hotel business. He said that he came to those beaches almost every weekend, but that this was the first time he had stopped to talk to someone. He was a kind man. I bid him farewell and ran on.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWkR8FFgCU/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:30:01+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:30pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWkYLoFNBd/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:30:52+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:30pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYUDmv_lcVr/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-27T22:06:01+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 27, 2017 at 3:06pm PDT</time></div>
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I ran on, coming to the end of the beach I remember encountering a wall or other structure that prevented my passage. The women who did the trail last year went up to the highway at this juncture too. I made my way up, and found a Whole Foods like grocery store and Starbucks nearby. I loved that supermarket. They had so many vegan options! I got locally made vegan wraps and some fresh produce and vegan chocolate cupcakes filled with white frosting, and moon pies, made by Karma Baker, a name I had heard often on the Rich Roll Podcast. I was excited to finally try their treats. They were delicious, I would say my favorite sweets of the entire trip. I saved some for the road ahead.<br />
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Continuing down the shore, cupcakes secured in a large brown grocery bag, I was once again walking in front of residences. The scenery continued to stun me. The trail meandered through a couple of small public beaches, pockets of people on the otherwise deserted shoreline. At one such beach the trail went into the water and through a cave. Luckily the tide was low enough, I waded through. It wasn't as easy as walking on the shore, but the views made up for the trouble. I saw the rainbow sky created by the setting sun through an arch in the cave and was in love with the CCT. What a magical trail. What a diverse trail!<br />
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On the other side, large rocks jutted out from the sea, and I spotted a photo shoot. A beautiful model wearing a bikini was posing against the ocean sunset backdrop. It was breathtaking and crowds gathered to watch.<br />
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Heading down the beach, now alone again, the sound of the surf increased. The beach disappeared and I found myself climbing over rocks to get around a point. High above me there appeared to be a dinner party and I hoped that I wasn't disturbing the guests, I wondered who they might be. I was determined not to fall and get hurt, I didn't want to interrupt their party.<br />
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:31:32+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:31pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:32:26+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:32pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWknDKFvBZ/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:32:54+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:32pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWksykFLDI/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:33:41+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:33pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWk5WDF1f_/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:35:24+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:35pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWlMi2l_il/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:38:01+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:38pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWll0DFHGj/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Trying to follow the trail completely, including wading through this cave to get to the next beach. This trail is so diverse, has such beautiful views, I love it. #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:41:28+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:41pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWlu86lmRE/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Trail goes through the cave</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:42:43+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:42pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWl33nlp_6/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:43:56+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:43pm PDT</time></div>
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Not much farther down the beach I came upon a beautiful woman dressed in a long white flowing gown, doing yoga. It looked like something out of a movie and I thought perhaps she was rehearsing. A huge Saint Bernard greeted me. The surf was so loud I didn't know if I could talk over it. I motioned to her that I wanted to cross what was presumably her property. "What?!" she yelled, breaking the serenity of the moment. I asked if it was okay if I continued on. "The tide is going out, you should be fine," she said. I thanked her and went on my way.<br />
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The beach continued to present rocky patches that I had to climb over and by now the sun had set completely. It was dark and I had only brought a small handheld flashlight that occupied one of my hands. It was scary, climbing over slippery rocks in the dark, without a good light, having only one free hand, while the threatening waves lapped close by. I had to run through water, my feet had gotten soaked, but I had enough adrenaline to keep me going. I remember getting to one section of that beach and finding all the rocks covered with live turbans. At first I thought, "this must be a sign that everything will be okay!" And immediately I slipped and fell. Earlier I couldn't stop singing Belinda Carlisle's "Heaven is a Place on Earth" to myself, but now I wondered if this was hell. The ocean's immense power incited thoughts of God, but also great fear, it could be deadly.<br />
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Finally, I came to a way off the beach. I headed up what I thought was the correct (according to the trail) way back to the road. After a long staircase I headed up a winding driveway, where a picnic table awaited me. I sat down, finally I could rest away from the treacherous ocean, and ate the last of the decedent cupcakes, which had been somewhat dismantled by my battle with the rocks and tide. I continued up a quarter mile or so, and checked the map again. ... I had made a mistake, there was more beach to go! I had come up too soon! I had no choice but to walk back down, head north on the beach, and look for the correct path up, which is what I did.<br />
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The trail turned from beach to Highway 1, back to beach, then back to highway. The road closely paralleled the beach here though, and I did my best to follow the trail. I made my way up the coast uneventfully as night fell, and stopped to sleep at Point Mugu State Park, which had a designated camping area. I arrived too late to check in at the kiosk but found an open campsite next to other campers, and gratefully set up my bivy.<br />
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-34005519736055743542017-10-07T19:30:00.000-07:002017-10-09T14:40:27.834-07:00Day 9 - Aug. 28<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 12px;">Point Mugu State Beach Campground to </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ventura Beach</span><br />
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I woke in the camp and asked the kiosk agent where to find water. I filled up two bottles, I knew that many barren road miles awaited me ahead. Luckily I still had decent cell reception, soon it would plummet, limiting my Facebook and Instagram posts to Wi-Fi oases.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWmh_MFglA/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Not a bad view to wake up to</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:49:41+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:49pm PDT</time></div>
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The morning was misty, I enjoyed views of the ocean from Highway 1.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Soon the sun came out, and it became intensely hot. I ran past large farms and felt a connection to the workers who like me were out in the hot sun. I ran through maybe ten to twelve miles of highway before coming to an unexpected fruit stand before the upcoming city. A sign said small baskets were $2, all the cash I had. I went to make my purchase, but the woman said the price was $3! She hesitated, then said that I could buy a day-old basket for $2! I was overjoyed. The stand also had a large Gatorade cooler with a spigot, and I filled up my water.
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYWnnlhl-Z8/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Entering Ventura County</a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-28T21:59:11+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 28, 2017 at 2:59pm PDT</time></span></div>
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Soon I was on the outskirts of the city -- Oxnard. I stopped in a Mexican grocery store and bought some fifty cent fruit. In town, I stopped at </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anacapuccino and Wendy's, where I charged my phone and dined on lentil soup, salad, a baked potato, and french fries before heading out again. I stopped for one final Starbucks coffee before making it to the beach.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sun was just beginning to set as I arrived at Oxnard Shores. Another beautiful, surreal, beach landscape. This one scatted with smooth stones.
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcHZqml6lX/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:13:07+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:13pm PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcH3qRlCvL/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">About half of this trek is barefoot running on the beach, a nice break for my feet. Although the camber is always the same. Would be nice to run it all in reverse when I'm done to make it even. :p</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:17:12+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:17pm PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcIGrNFveO/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Turbulent water #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:19:15+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:19pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcIjt3F9_b/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:23:13+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:23pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:25:11+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:25pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcI4S0lg7o/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:26:02+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:26pm PDT</time></div>
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I spent way too much time following the trail's contours along Marina park, I was also beginning to get sleepy. The trail followed the beach, and then a bike path that ended near a group of businesses. Up ahead loomed the glimmering Crowne Plaza... there was a cheaper hotel half a mile away, I had done my research at Wendy's. But I was exhausted, and slightly scared by the Ventura night dwellers, so opted for the closer of the two hotels. Unfortunately the Crowne Plaza turned out to be $50 more than advertised online, but I took the room anyway, and told the man behind the counter about my run. Impressed, he upgraded my room to a suite overlooking the ocean, for free.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The room was grand, and I happily washed my clothes in the sink, arranging them on the luggage rack to dry while I slept. </span></span></div>
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-10381504143581446432017-10-07T19:00:00.000-07:002017-10-10T00:14:26.887-07:00Day 10 - Aug. 29<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white;">Ventura Beach to Santa Barbara</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And sleep I did -- a little longer than I had hoped, it was nearly noon by the time I got going, perhaps I had taken one of my NyQuil pills to help me sleep. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Downstairs I printed maps from the CCT website -- this was before I had received the PDFs of the guidebooks from 1DollarScan, around Santa Barbara. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was a breakfast buffet, but it cost $12... I decided to go for it, I would take in a day's worth of calories at breakfast to save money. The bagels tasted homemade. I had fruit, decadent oatmeal, and coffee.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">From Ventura to Carpentaria the trail stayed mostly along the beach. I stopped to talk to a lifeguard at one private beach who assured me that it was legal for passersby to walk across the property. I saw a family on a day hike, which in the future became a common occurrence, it was interesting to think about taking a weekend to do a section of these beautiful trails, what an opportunity to see the entire CCT in one trip.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have in my notes that part of the trail was closed for the California Seal Sanctuary, so I took a trail next to the beach, as the women who did the trail last year had done.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Around Carpentaria the trail headed inland and I stopped at a convenience store for a protein cookie and coconut water -- breakfast hadn't lasted me all day! After a few turns on city streets the route led to an open field with a gate in the distance. Luckily, behind the gate I found a thin trail next to train tracks, the CCT path on the map. I ran down the trail, I remember being filled with energy during this section. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Earlier I had called a hostel in Santa Barbara, about thirty miles away (although it was hard to calculate exactly with the trail's twists and turns, this was before I had the PDF to look at for exact mileage on each segment), the hostel said they would be open until 10pm and that I did not need a reservation, I could just show up. I had made it my goal to reach the hostel by 10pm that night, I was determined despite my late start. I reasoned that if I headed out at noon I only needed to do three miles an hour for ten hours and I would have my thirty miles by 10pm.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">As it turned out, my burst of energy perhaps saved my life, just as I left the path near the train tracks for the beach a train came barreling down the tracks.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The beautiful beach in the setting sun gave me even more energy and I ran with zeal. I think I even saw a man take my photo. Continuing on my runner's high I didn't notice the waves were coming in. Before long the beach had turned to a thin sliver. The waves ahead were lapping at the private railing of a residence's porch. This was scary. I needed to get away from the ocean, and fast. I headed for the nearest exit, a set of private stairs and again hoped I would be able to exit to the street. I found myself climbing among the weeds under a house, and got to the front yard only through a break in a wire mesh fence. At least I had made it to a street. I ran to where Google Maps showed me the exit was, but there was a locked gate. Distraught, I ran back, looking for a resident who could open the door. I saw a parked car in a driveway with illuminated headlights and knocked on the window. I think I startled the woman inside, who appeared to be hired help at the house. She said I should follow her out of the gate. Luckily this worked out, and I was back on the road. With high tide, my only recourse was to take the CCT's alternate/bike route as I moved north.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I ran on into the night, making a half mile detour to arrive at the hostel, at 9:45, just before the 10pm deadline. To my distress, they said that since I did not have a foreign passport and was not a student they could not accommodate me! All of the other rooms were sold out. They had a list of nearby hotels and I began looking at maps to see how close each was to my current location. After fifteen minutes of this the owner walked in, I introduced myself, and he said he would allow me to stay in the foreign and student dorm that night. I was relieved. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I plugged in my phone, then took a shower. When I returned, I noticed that someone had unplugged my phone.. a little disconcerting. The man who had showed me the room said I was welcome to either the top or bottom bunk, and I noticed that the bottom bunk hid a set of four outlets. I moved my bag to the bottom bunk and plugged all my devices in with abandon.
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcJlxjFXud/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:32:14+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:32pm PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcJ73kF7S0/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:35:15+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:35pm PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYcKBX7FpsO/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:36:00+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:36pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:40:27+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:40pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:46:17+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:46pm PDT</time></div>
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-81382883960808267892017-10-07T18:30:00.000-07:002017-10-10T22:24:21.062-07:00Day 11 - Aug. 30 <span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Santa Barbara to El Capitan State Beach</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unfortunately the free pancake breakfast at the hostel was "serve-yourself," and I didn't want to take the time to make my own pancakes, plus, I figured they likely were not vegan anyway. So I headed out, and stopped at a gas station for some vegan bars and coffee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I ran along the beach, after a few miles coming to an unexpected restaurant, where I stopped to charge my phone and order french fries. I spotted a CCT symbol on a post leading to the ocean. I ran on, hitting a few patches with thin beaches and I worried about the incoming tide, luckily I made it alright, but I was running scared. I went on down the coast, but when I made it to More Mesa Beach I was unable to get around the point, the waves were too high. I could have perhaps climbed some rocks but doing so looked dangerous, and I didn't know whether I would be able to get farther once around that part of the protrusion. Per precedent, I retraced my steps and looked for a way off the beach so that I could take an alternate route. It cost me some ground, backtracking, and I was running out of water in the hot sun. I spotted a group of boys who looked like they were having a surfing lesson, which led to a path up to the bluffs above. Once there, I located a trail along the bluffs, and followed it. I saw a few trail runners along the way and smiled.
The picture below, right before I had to turn back at More Mesa Beach. That tar was on various beaches throughout southern California and it was difficult to remove from my socks.</span></span><br />
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:52:12+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:52pm PDT</time></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The trail skirted the UC Santa Barbara campus. An alumna of the UC system </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">(I was in a PhD program in computer science at UC San Diego though left with a Master's, and was admitted to UCLA's PhD program in computer science)</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I felt at home this close to a UC campus. I hadn't applied but had heard they had a quantum computing program at UCSB. A girl I had met at MIT's Quantum Information Science for Undergraduates summer program had gone to UCSB for her PhD. I had pictured the UCSB campus as nicer than UCSD's and had wondered in the past how my life might have been different if I had gone to UC Santa Barbara, maybe I could have studied quantum computing, maybe my relationship wouldn't have ended, maybe I would have gotten a PhD. But I was grateful to be where I was too, on a magical journey, running the California Coastal Trail. And all my previous experiences had somehow led to this moment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I saw a sign that seemed to prohibit non-school affiliated people and asked nearby surf instructor about it. She said the beach was open to the public and that I should go ahead and follow the trail. Not long after I spotted CCT markers. The trail led to the outskirts of Santa Barbara's downtown. The woman at the beach had said I should make a stop at her favorite coffee shop, Coffee Collaborative, so I took a quarter mile detour to stop, I needed to get food anyway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />The owner of Coffee Collaborative happened to be filling in for an employee that day. She had apparently bumped into him while he was holding a hot cup of coffee, and got burned. She quit immediately. The owner felt terrible about the girl, her boyfriend rode over on a bike to talk to the owner while I was there. I charged my phone and had a latte made with tea, then a regular latte as the the sun went down and I realized I would need to run through the night to get in my miles, I might as well run at night -- low tide was approaching, the best time to do the upcoming beach section. The owner was so impressed with my quest, and so inspired -- he had wanted to travel himself, maybe this is what would make him take the leap!, that he didn't charge me for anything thereafter and gave me a bag full of free bagels to take with me. We had fun posing for pictures in the shop. The photographer, another young woman, was biking down a segment of the coast. </span><br />
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-08-31T01:59:43+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Aug 30, 2017 at 6:59pm PDT</time></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A young man offered to let me stay in his yard, it was filled with couches, but I had to decline, Robert Frost's poetry (modified) stuck in my mind: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: normal;">"The <i>waves</i> are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: normal;">miles to go before I sleep</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: normal;">, And </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: normal;">miles to go before I sleep</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: normal;">." </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I ran on, into the night, eating my bagels as I went -- carrying them in my stomach was easier than carrying them with in my hand! </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The trail went by some large architectural features that a man at the coffee shop had said I shouldn't miss, unfortunately they were difficult to see at night. The old men playing chess at the coffee shop had thought my story was interesting, one insisted on giving me lengthy directions while another told him I needed to be on my way. They were all very nice, and the owner had given me his phone number in case I ran into problems. This actually became a recurring theme, people would offer me their phone numbers and I would take them down, knowing full well that there was a 1% chance I would have cell service. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ocean looked high despite it being low tide and I navigated over some rocks, and under a pier. I ran along the beach, finding it necessary to climb over a set of slippery rocks. A wave rushed in, taking my shoes, flashlight, and food, which I had set down beside me as I helped myself over a rock. With a rush of adrenaline I grabbed my gear and bounded over the rocks to the beach, running again as fast as I could.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Far off in the distance, I could see a lone light on the beach. I ran toward it, probably for a mile or two. As I approached, I could make out figures around a fire, their shadows made it look like a cult gathering. I stopped to say hello, it was a group of three young men, drinking. One of them stepped up to talk to me, and I told him about my trek. Everything he said seemed profound, there in the middle of the night on the deserted beach. "What devil possessed you to do this?" he asked. I told him that for some reason, unlike other people, I wasn't content not doing things like this. I wasn't sure why, it's just the way I'm built. He ended the conversation with, "I hope you find what you're looking for."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I headed down the beach, eventually coming to an official beach campsite. I headed a quarter mile inland to the proper camp where I met two women, it was roughly 4am. They walked with me to the bathroom, where they were headed. They told me at this hour I shouldn't need to pay for a site and told me to camp across from them in an empty lot. I followed them out, and set up my bivy. I slept soundly for a few hours until the sun woke me, knowing I was in a safe place, and that those women were nearby. </span></span><br />
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-78736790504063310322017-10-07T18:00:00.000-07:002017-10-10T16:21:43.244-07:00Day 12 - Aug. 31El Capitan State Beach to Lompoc<br />
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I wake up in the camp, and meet Danielle DuGre in the bathroom. She has been hiking all her life and looks much younger than she is. She is inspired by my journey and afterward will ofter to drive over five hours to give me a ride home. She tells me that if I keep up this hiking habit I can look as young as she does. And says that I should write a book when I'm done, that others will want to know how to do this.<br />
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-01T19:00:23+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 1, 2017 at 12:00pm PDT</time></div>
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There is a small store at the camp and I buy peanut butter and bread, diet coke, and some energy bars. I've got my calories for the day. Looking at the map I see that I might not have access to food for thirty miles or more, until I reach the town of Lompoc. Luckily, there are a number of cheap motels in Lompoc and I figure that if I can make it there one of them will have a vacancy. Finding a warm bed and shower to look forward to was always good motivation to put in a few more miles.<br />
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The CCT website said that the shoreline from Gaviota State Park to Canada del Cementerio was passable only at tides below 3 feet, and from there to Canada San Onofre pass only at tides below 2.5 feet. From Canada del Molino to Canada de la Posta only at tides below 2 feet. At 12:30pm, when I set out, the tide was at 2.7 feet, and rising. The two women who had done the trail the previous year also took the highway on this section, so I opted for the alternate route.<br />
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After today I reflected that I wasn't sure which was scarier, running on the highway, or on the beach at high tide.<br />
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In my notes I see that tonight was the night I realized why people find running at night scary, maybe it was the desolate highway that made me feel this way. In Riverside I always run at night. I've been chastised many times by friends, neighbors, and other people out at night. The one time I felt I might be in danger in Riverside at night, the man approached me to give me his can of mace, he thought I might need it more than he did. I kept it, and carried it with me on this trip.<br />
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After completing the beach portion of today's run, I turned to the highway. I had fun looking for interesting items by the roadside. I prayed that the universe might send me some money to help me with the trip. I began to find change, I think I might have found twenty cents by the end of the day, but I figured change was extra weight, so I didn't take it.<br />
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The lyric, "God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too!" from "It's Raining Men," kept echoing in my head, and made me laugh. Was mother nature like me? I'm a single woman. I had a lot of time to contemplate Mother Nature on this trip.<br />
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After a number of miles, and hours, I arrived at another camp, which I knew had a store with supplies. It looked to be about a mile off the route, however, and I didn't want to make such a long detour. So I kept going. Only a mile up ahead there was a rest area. No food but a drinking fountain and a place to charge all of my devices. I remember this was when I realized that my external battery pack was having problems charging. I tried wrapping the charging cable around the battery to hold things in place, I got it to work in the rest area bathroom, but knew I would need to buy a new battery pack. This was also when I took the time to write down notes on the previous days of the trip. My mother had suggested I keep a daily log to look back on. I tried to take daily notes going forward and for the most part succeeded in writing down the basics, though I may have gotten off by a day or two.<br />
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After my downtime at the rest area I headed out again. Today's highway mileage was the most treacherous of the entire journey. I tried to walk along a ledge on the other side of a railing separating me from traffic, but soon the land fell away from the ledge in a steep slope, leaving me no choice but to run on a highway that had no shoulder, semis rushing toward me.
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-01T19:08:38+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 1, 2017 at 12:08pm PDT</time></div>
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I was on high alert through the highway segment, relieved when I made it to a stretch of trail. Walking up to the trail's gate I noticed a sign warning of mountain lions. My ultra running friends were scared of mountain lions but I never had been. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the fatigue from running, that I was alone in an unfamiliar place without direct access to food, water, or cell phone service... for whatever reason, the thought of mountain lions worried me as dusk fell that night, and I tried to run fast through the trail, now looking forward to the next highway section. I had begun to feel like this run was some kind of epic saga, with a new obstacle to overcome around every corner. I recalled an "Are You Afraid of the Dark" episode from my childhood, when a kid gets stuck in a scary real-life video game. My trek suddenly felt just like that, a human video game.
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-01T19:05:01+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 1, 2017 at 12:05pm PDT</time></div>
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I ran on through the night. A man I didn't know had started meticulously following my journey on Facebook and I half worried that he would jump out of the bushes. I checked in with my parents, they said, "now if I car pulls over for you, be wary." I encountered this situation later that night. A van coming toward me pulled over and stopped ahead of me. I ran into its headlights, trying to get a look at the driver as I passed. It appeared to be a woman, and I was relieved. Nonetheless, thoughts of serial killers continued to haunt me as I made my way toward the city.<br />
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It was around 1am when I reached Lompoc. I could smell food what must have been miles away, I had done over twenty miles fasted. I bought food at a gas station and looked for the nearest motel. Ahead was the Red Roof Inn, which I had seen on the map. I told a couple who tried to get into a closed gas station about the open one down the road. They asked me if I was okay -- I guess I didn't look okay? My imagination had tormented me since I had got on the highway and I must have looked ragged. I went for the Red Roof Inn. A little more expensive than I would have liked and something about the boy behind the counter rubbed me the wrong way, it was as if he enjoyed charging me so much money. I got to my room and breathed a sigh of relief, taking off my pack. Luckily the first thing I did was try to take a shower, because the shower didn't work, no water came out, and I had to get my things and go back to the front desk. At first the boy said that his maintenance man was unavailable at such a late hour, I went off -- "how is this possible, a room without a shower?!" He got me another room.<br />
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I washed my clothes in the sink again, and slept soundly.<br />
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-80037513972580259712017-10-07T17:30:00.000-07:002017-10-10T16:45:57.233-07:00Day 13 - Sept 1Lompoc to Guadelupe<br />
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Taken the next morning but written about today:
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I have in my notes that after my run on the exposed highway the day before my arms were blistering with sunburn. My calves had already blistered early on in the trek.<br />
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I used the route the girls used the previous year to get around Vandenberg Air Force Base, instead of Highway 1. I assumed their way was efficient and that the maps might not have been updated recently. I didn't want to have to backtrack. I wrote that Brown Road goes through the base, so I took the alternate bike path, as the girls had done.<br />
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I wrote that, "sometimes this trip feels like a dream, sometimes like a nightmare."<br />
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I headed out of Lompoc, I had slept late after my late night. I tried to buy a diet coke at a doughnut shop but they only took cash. The man in line behind me offered to pay for my beverage, so I gratefully let him. I ran past a post office and stopped to mail my sleeping pad -- the pump had gotten a hole in it already and it seemed relatively useless anyway, with the sand and soft grass I was comfortable, and my extra sports bra, unnecessary. I was starting to wish I had my solar charger, having to depend on outlets to charge my phone. The postmaster said I should look at the cell phone store across the street. No solar charger, but they did have a nice looking, light, external battery, which I purchased to replace mine. It turned out to have an odd plug mechanism, which worried me the entire trip, but carried a good deal of battery power and charged my devices fast.<br />
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A little further on, I stopped at a Starbucks (I should have had a Starbucks sponsorship for this trip, at least in southern California the place was my go-to.). I charged up and left my old battery in the baristas' tip jar, I figured they could throw it away if they couldn't get it to charge either. I had to take some time to make phone calls regarding my health insurance -- it turned out I was losing my current coverage and needed to arrange a new plan, this had to be done immediately. I found a smaller solar charger online and ordered it to be delivered to a post office up ahead.<br />
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Already, by day 13, I noted that I was using the "x more miles and then break!" tactic on myself. Compared to some of my ultrarunning friends, who run 30 miles a day in training, while holding down a full time job, or 50-70 miles a day for 50+ days during competition, I felt like my goal of 30 a day was quite conservative. I didn't want to aggravate my existing injuries.<br />
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Up ahead, in Santa Maria, I knew my trail and ultra friend Isaiah was working in his new hospital, he had just moved from Riverside to start a residency there. I couldn't meet him, and the route didn't even pass through Santa Maria, but just knowing he was nearby made me feel safer.<br />
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My day of errands had cost me, and night was falling already. I might have only put in five or ten miles before the sun began to set. In the future I remember consoling myself with the thought that there had been days I had only done ten or twelve miles by five o'clock. This was likely one of those days.<br />
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I ran around mountains in the dark, a car stopped to ask if I was okay. I ran past fields of crops and made my way to the highway. Another car stopped to ask if I was alright and the woman inside offered me the hamburger she was going to split with her dog :) I said I was okay, but appreciated the offer. It made me smile.<br />
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The town of Orcutt was apparently seventeen miles ahead and I looked forward to stopping at the gas station there. The town itself was a half mile detour from the road, but I wanted the break. When I got to town I could see there were no lights on at the gas station. The only business that appeared open was the bar. And I made a beeline.<br />
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After stopping at the restroom I unabashedly sat down at the bar. I ordered two bags of Fritos, they reminded me of my grandmother, who used to give me the chips in my school lunch and for snacks when I stayed with her. The young man next to me was friendly and I told him about my trek. I ordered a beer he recommended. His friend on the other side heard me and was blown away. He worked at a lodge in Mammoth and had the hat to prove it. He was all about hiking, and spiritual things. Somehow we got to talking about vortexes and Sedona. I've never been there but he told me that the spiritual feeling there is undeniable.<br />
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I headed out again, after only a mile or so a police officer stopped me to ask if I was okay. This would be the first of four police officers to stop me. I told him about my trek and he offered me water, said to be sure to run facing traffic, that way I could see the car coming toward me and jump out of the way if need be. He warned of drunk drivers, and said that he and the rest of the police there were on my side, they were watching out for me and if I needed *anything* I should call 911 and they would be there in an instant. He offered me water too, but I was still well hydrated.<br />
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I ran on to the town of Guadelupe. I was exhausted but couldn't find a place to sleep. I saw a cemetery and briefly considered trying to hide amongst the graves, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, it was also in the middle of the town, and would soon be surrounded by people, I assumed. I laid down for a few minutes on a bus stop bench. I felt tingling in my legs and looked up to find ants crawling all over me (again). I couldn't stay. On I went, I found an open Subway restaurant, the only business open in the early morning. I stopped and ordered two veggie wraps and two coffees, then later realized if I ordered a fountain drink I could get unlimited refills. I charged my phone and watched blue collar workers come in to order breakfast. At least I had escaped the 100+ degree temperatures by running at night.<br />
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-4909251957046257212017-10-07T17:00:00.000-07:002017-10-10T18:09:10.099-07:00Day 14 - Sept. 2Guadelupe to Avila<br />
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While at Subway I checked my Facebook messages and discovered that the company I had mailed my CCT guidebooks to, to be turned into PDFs, was owned by my ultra running friend, Kawai Tatsuya! He had seen an order with my name come through and asked me if I had placed it.<br />
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The night before I left for my CCT expedition I was Googling how to turn a book into a PDF, I didn't want to carry the heavy guides with me. I had thought that FedEx or some other office supply company could do it, but I was wrong. I did find 1DollarScan. It had gotten good reviews, so the next morning, before I left, I ran the books over to the post office and mailed them in, hoping that my PDFs would be done soon so that I could use them on my journey. I didn't realize how little internet service I would have and how important those guidebooks would be.<br />
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There I was, in Santa Barbara County, the same place where I met Kawai, and in a way, he was saving the day again. I had met him at the Santa Barbara 100 mile race, around mile 80. I was crying in pain after just having completed four other 100 mile races in the previous six weeks. SB100 was also notoriously difficult, with over 24,000 ft of elevation gain. Kawai told me that everything would be okay and we talked about the monks in Japan who run ultra long distances. We ran most of the rest of the race together, save for a small section at the end, when I went ahead to make sure we had made the correct turn toward the finish line.<br />
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The PDFs I had ordered were ready soon after that and I relied on them more and more as the trip went on. They had the mileage for each segment, and gave forewarning about upcoming river crossings and showed the trail's alternate routes if arranging a boat wasn't possible. They gave information about services and towns nearby and whether water was available at the trailhead or via creeks on the trail.<br />
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My Facebook posts from that day:<br />
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After my long charging session at Subway, having missed some of the cooler morning air, I headed out. The sun was strong even in the morning and people kept talking about how hot it was, over 110 degrees high for the day, it might have even been 110 in the morning when I started out. I grabbed a few snacks, including multiple big bottles of electrolyte drink at a small grocery store. I could've moved faster had I not been carrying so much hydration. In retrospect I should have carried less. Maybe I subconsciously wanted to move slower, given that I hadn't slept the night before.<br />
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I ran past fields, saying hello to the farm workers. It the middle of the day, when the sun was probably at its hottest, a woman driving by stopped to ask if I needed a ride. I told her about my quest. It turned out she had done the Camino de Santiago. She was a devout Catholic and prayed for me. She gave me two cards to carry with me, one was her personal angel car, which she told me, she had never given out. I told her about my time as a Carmelite nun at the monastery Our Lady of Guadalupe, it was funny to be having that conversation in a town with the same name. I told her about the big and small turban shells I had found, and how I kept the small one with me. She told me that attaching a shell to your pack is part of the Camino experience. I didn't realize the next town I would stop at was Avila, the name of one of my favorite Carmelite nun's hometown, St. Teresa of Avila, Spain. The woman gave me the phone numbers of two groups of monks I would pass up ahead and said they would be happy to have me stay with them if I needed a place.<br />
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My Facebook post a few days later:<br />
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Eventually I came to a small collection of restaurants and shops. I stopped at the gas station for portable snacks and had a vegan burrito at a nearby restaurant while my phone charged. I ran again until I came to a fruit and vegetable stand. The clerk was wearing a UCR shirt, it turned out he was a college student at UC Riverside, where I have my gym membership. I love the UCR gym and outdoor pool. He was originally from that town and let me use the bathroom, even though I don't think he was supposed to.<br />
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I ran on until I got to Oceano. I stopped at a convenience store -- every time I saw a convenience store I stopped! I wasn't always sure how long it would be until the next one. And I welcomed a break from the hours of jogging and walking. A little way beyond, I reached the beach. I remember being so happy to be back on the coast, after the long inland highway section. It renewed my spirit.<br />
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The Oceano Dunes Beach is the only beach in California to permit vehicles.<br />
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I had considered camping here, but there were big illuminated signs warning of hefty fines for camping without a permit on those beaches, and everything was sold out that night. So I ran on. I needed the extra miles anyway.<br />
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I saw on the CCT website that parts of Oceano Dunes are closed through September for the Snowy Plover. It was a Saturday so I couldn't call to double check. Thus, I took the alternate route for part of the day.<br />
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I ran on to Pismo Beach, which reminded me of my familiar southern California cities. I tried to find a hotel but things seemed to be booked. My SPOT's power light was blinking red for the first time so I stopped to change the batteries. The battery change was successful but somehow I didn't turn the tracker on again, and didn't realize until five or so miles later. My FitBit GPS watch was still working then, so I have a log there.<br />
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Night had fallen and I was getting tired. I stopped at a gas station for some sunflower seeds I could eat to keep me awake. I was walking now. I started walking through a narrow park overlooking the water, with large houses and apartments behind it. There was a young man looking over the railing at the ocean in the moonlight, a parking lot, presumably for the park, behind him. He said that he and his friends were on a road trip and had tried to get a hotel, but everything from there to LA was booked for the holiday weekend. So, they had decided to park their van sleep in it. He just couldn't sleep. I was glad I hadn't wasted more time trying to secure a hotel for the night. I half wanted to ask him if I could camp there, it seemed like a safe area and he was on guard for his car of people already. But I wanted more miles.<br />
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I only made it a little further and fatigue set in, I backtracked, thinking I might ask him about camping there, but I couldn't find him, maybe he had overcome his insomnia and retired to the van. I walked north again, through the park, looking for a good place to sleep. I spotted an area behind some bushes that was matted down, stepping stones leading to it, I couldn't figure out why. This looked good enough, and I set up my bivy and caught a few hours of sleep.<br />
<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-23341836822747427442017-10-07T16:30:00.000-07:002017-10-10T22:39:00.699-07:00Day 15 - Sept. 3Avila to Morro Strand Campground, Morro Bay<br />
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I woke with the sun and ran toward Avila Beach.<br />
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The closest coffee shops on the map weren't open yet, so I opted for one a little bit further out of the way. It was expensive, I had a latte and oatmeal, but I was able to charge my phone and plan the day ahead. Once the rest of the town had woken up I got a wrap and some fruit, and bought a pair of flip flops, my left arch was still bothering me.<br />
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The trail followed a bike path through a golf course with a cool covered bridge.
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-04T17:06:49+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 4, 2017 at 10:06am PDT</time></div>
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The end of the trail was a winery, complete with a grape-covered fence. I figured they wouldn't mind if I took a bunch for the road. They were delicious!
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-04T17:44:41+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 4, 2017 at 10:44am PDT</time></div>
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I ran on, past a tree that looked like it had cherries, but I didn't want to test my luck. Up ahead was a Whole Foods, my haven! I was so happy when I arrived. Delicious vegan food (albeit expensive)! And a place that reminded me of home in southern California. I picked up some astaxanthin -- good for preventing sunburn, and also supposed to combat the pre-cancer condition that I had found out a few months before that I had, and some packets of turmeric and tart cherry powder. I wanted to get a strong smelling essential oil to ward off the ants and other bugs, and cover up my increasingly smelly feet, but I couldn't bring myself to carry a glass bottle. An older woman with dyed hair handing out free samples struck up a conversation, I told her about my trek. She called it a pilgrimage, I was beginning to see it that way myself, and said "God Bless."<br />
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I spent a couple of hours there charging my phone and trying to figure out how to get through the road closures due to mud slides in Big Sur that everyone kept warning me about. I talked to police who told me blankly not to use a closed road, and suggested I get a helicopter or a 100+ mile Uber to get around the slides. The idea of hiking in general seemed foreign to the person on the other end. Reading an article online about the closures and its impact on the local economy I had an idea -- who would be most motivated to get people through? the hotels! I called the Ragged Point Inn, which was close to the closure. The attendant there, Chris, was full of energy, enthusiasm, and positive energy, he said that bikers had been getting through the closed road and that there were also trails through the mountains that I could use to get around it. He looked at his map on the other end and gave me the names of the trails I would need to use. He told me it was 100% possible and I shouldn't let this interfere with my run. Wonderful news! I could continue on without worrying that my run would have to take a major detour.<br />
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I headed out again, vegan doughnut in hand, making one last stop for a coffee at the gas station. I remember listening to a Rich Roll Podcast episode during this segment that resonated with me, he interviewed author and speaker Jon Gordon. The title of the podcast was, "What's Your North Star? Jon Gordon on the primacy of vision and why positivity is paramount." I first heard the idea of following your inner "north star" via author Martha Beck. Her book, <u>Finding Your Own North Star</u> is still one of my favorite books. She talks of the miracles that can occur when we listen to our inner selves. This trek and its magic felt like I was following my inner north star, for the first time in a long time. For the last year plus I had been dealing with a series of injuries, brought on by a bad massage therapy experience. Only a couple of weeks before I began the trek I had tried running with the group in my hometown in Iowa and was unable to do so without severe pain. Suddenly, on this trip, I was able to run nearly 200 miles a week with no pain at all. This must be the path that my inner self truly wanted to take.<br />
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I ran on through the night, and it began to rain, slightly. I stayed warm by running faster -- this seemed to be the case with my running every night, as the temperatures cooled my pace increased. I love my night running, there are so many fewer cars on the road, and I can see their headlights approaching far off in the distance. I also love the calm and quiet of the night, although I don't so much love the fatigue that comes with pushing your body outside its natural circadian rhythm.<br />
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After ten or so miles, I arrived at my planned stop, the city of Los Osos. I was greeted by multiple bear statues. I had hoped to stop at the Starbucks in town but they had already closed. Instead I opted for the Ralph's grocery store, a good thing, because I found a lightweight rain poncho that I carried with me the rest of the trip. One of the checkout girls was memorized by my trip, she asked if I was drinking my own urine.
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYoH3AHFHbU/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-04T17:08:00+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 4, 2017 at 10:08am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYoIBXhFm2q/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Welcome to town, "rawrrrrr!!!"</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-04T17:09:25+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 4, 2017 at 10:09am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYoIKdsFD1m/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">I want some new age beverage</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-04T17:10:40+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 4, 2017 at 10:10am PDT</time></div>
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The official trail included a boat trip across Moro Bay, but it was a Sunday and I was unable to hire a boat. I tried calling the number in the guidebook, but got no answer. Adding outside transportation seemed antithetical to a fastest known time on foot anyway. I took the alternate route on foot, which was the same route the women who hiked the trail last year took.<br />
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Ten or so miles later I was in Moro Bay, and the environment finally seemed to be changing. Huge trees loomed above me and swarms of mosquitos pounced when my jogging slowed.<br />
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I passed a campground, then ran through a town. A white truck appeared to be following me. It drove by once, then parked ahead of me and seemed to be waiting for me. When I turned down a side street in front of it, I saw it come driving past again. Scared, I told a resident I saw nearby about it, he gave me his number in case I ran into trouble. I ran on, looking for a safe place to stay for the night, but all of the hotels seemed to be booked. At one hotel the woman on duty gave me an apple and said I could sleep in the employee restroom if I wanted to. I didn't think I could sleep on a cement floor. She told me about a place to camp, under boat, or a replica of a boat, on the beach near the bay, but I also wanted to get in a few more miles, and the map said there was another camp ground only five or so miles ahead, so I pressed on.<br />
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I saw the impressive Morro Rock, a gigantic pyramid shaped rock jutting out from the ocean, just off the beach. I think I startled a few people running in my getup at night like I was. Someone said, "what was that?!" I ran on, down the beach. Finally, far off in the distance I could see lights that I thought must be the camp. I was moving forward but the lights never seemed to get any closer and the landscape never seemed to change. I started nodding off walking. I fought through it. After another fitful half hour or so I saw new lights to my right, and decided to go for them.<br />
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They turned out to be a restroom associated with the camp, and I asked a man standing outside the structure if he knew where the check-in was. He was waiting for his wife, who was in the restroom. When she came out he insisted that both of them walk me to the registration desk... we walked over, and the camp turned out to be full. Graciously, the man offered to let me stay with them. His primary language was Spanish and his English wasn't 100%, but we understood each other, and he was so kind to do this for me... He said that there was unfortunately no room in their tent but that if I had my own shelter I was welcome to camp with them. So I very very gratefully did. There was some confusion about where I should set up my bivy bag, there wasn't much room. Their party already had three large tents and a large picnic table. I tried to go in front of the trunk of one vehicle, but they hesitated because it wasn't their car. They offered me the space in front of their own tent, but I couldn't do that -- what if they had to get out in the middle of the night! I set up by the car and hoped that would be okay... they said it was, and I slept very soundly.<br />
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After writing everything up as I remembered it, I found my Day 15 recap:<br />
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Day 15 recap: Hiked from Avila to Morro Strand Beach. Very hot day, did ten miles in the heat, found these grapes growing near a winery. Stopped at Whole Foods and enjoyed the airconditioning and plentiful vegan salad bar options. Decided I better investigate getting around the mud slide road closures coming up. Talked to highway patrol (they told me to get a 100 mile uber or helicopter...), Googled, looked at maps, and finally called a resort near the closure -- if anyone wo</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">uld be motivated to get people through that section it would be them! They were incredibly helpful, told me about a trail to get around one closure and about how locals have created their own trails to get around the second closure! Confident I should proceed I headed out again, ran through first rain of the trip, but it was warm. Made it to Los Osos, greeted by lots of bear statues, stopped at a grocery to get a rain poncho, more batteries for my SPOT, which seems to be running through a set a day... Met a cashier who was enthralled by my journey. <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="smile emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v9/f4c/1/16/1f642.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;">:)</span></span> She told me where the outlets were so I could charge before going ahead. Ran eight more miles to Morro Bay. A white truck seemed to be following me there, it parked ahead and turned lights off waiting, then followed me down another street, when ahead of me, made a u-turn and drove past again. I stopped to talk to a guy on the street about it, he gave me his number in case I ran into trouble. Kept running, stopped in every hotel I saw to try to get a room but all were booked for the holiday. Woman at one hotel let me use the bathroom, gave me an apple, and offered to let me sleep in the bathroom. Having only put in about 22 miles I wanted to keep going. Arrived at Morro Strand beach campground around 3am. Met a couple there at the bathroom who insisted on walking me to registration. When they saw all sites were booked they offered to let me stay with them, so I did. Threw down my bivy bag next to their family's set of tents and was out immediately - I had been falling asleep walking before I met him. In the morning they made me coffee and toast!!! They were so nice.</span>"<br />
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-83716825096389521462017-10-07T16:00:00.000-07:002017-10-10T23:18:37.485-07:00Day 16 - Sept. 4<!-- Stopped at coffee shop in Cayucos, then at convenience store for snacks. -->
Morro Strand Campground, Morro Bay to Motel 6 San Simeon<br />
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I awoke to children running around my bivy bag. "She's awake!" they yelled. It made me smile. The family, which actually included multiple families, gave me coffee and toast, grilled on a portable griddle. The nearest cafe was four and a half miles away, it was nice to have a hot breakfast before setting out in the cool morning air. In fact, I wrote that today was the first day I put on my pants. Somewhere along the way I had returned my REI tie-dye yoga pants and bought a pair of mid-weight tight black Patagonia pants. They served me very well throughout the trip. Today I wore them as I jogged down the beach.<br />
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Morro Rock, still in view.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYoJsJQlD1c/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-09-04T17:24:00+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 4, 2017 at 10:24am PDT</time></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I met a woman on the way to the cafe who told me how to escape a rip tide, funny I had just noticed a sign explaining how to do that right before I met her. She said, "you can't fight it, swimming directly against it will only tire you out, like a lot of things in life. You have to relax, and try to swim out of it parallel to the shore."</span></div>
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And after sit<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ting down at a coffee shop this post from one of my favorite authors, Martha Beck, was at the top of my Facebook feed: <b>"Have you ever felt your destiny unfolding, beloved? Have you<br />experienced the intensity of the hunt, the fixation of attention that only fate can explain? Have you ever told yourself your feelings were excessive, but known that something huge and pivotally important was carrying you along like a riptide? You can fight that current all you want; you know it will still have its way with you. Or you can try swimming along with it, and grow amazed by your own power— until you pause and realize that you aren’t moving but being moved. You’re not in control, not at all, and that’s what makes the feeling so exquisitely exciting."</b></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #fafafa; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.87); font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: small; white-space: normal;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: #fafafa; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.87); font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: small; white-space: normal;">From my log:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fafafa; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.87); font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: small; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Day 16: after the morning miles and coffee break did seven or so miles of trail along the coast, beautiful little trail through a yellow field with views of seals and dark green water. Had to stop to take care of a blister, used the safety pin that held my Our Lady of Mount Caramel pendant to lance it and then taped. Tried to sterilize with alcohol pad but it had dried up. Got a few feet down the trail and realized I'd lost my pendant, I said a prayer that the right person w</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">ould find it. Encountered lots of tourists on the trail, saw a couple napping and thought that sounded like a good idea. Not sure if I slept, got back up after half an hour or so, wanting to get on the road so that I wouldn't run out of water on the 20 mile stretch without it. I took a caffeine pill. After seven or so miles the trail met highway 1 again. It was a long slog uphill and I wonder whether itwould have been easier carrying less water and moving faster. A couple pulled over to ask if I needed a ride, when I told them what I was doing they offered me a huge bag of watermelon, which I happily accepted, and said a prayer for my safety. With a little more energy I soldiered on. Finishing the highway segment I saw signs for the towns up ahead, Ragged Point, Gorda... and signs about the road closures due to mudslides, I looked forward to these segments, which would presumably have less traffic. I completed the day with a few miles through Cambria, the first part of which looked like a mountain town with rustic A frame houses. The second segment was a boardwalk kind of wooden trail on lifts that went on for miles along the coast. The waves were huge, maybe 30 feet high, and loud. I wished it wasn't night. The final bit through the city was back on highway 1 and I stopped for the night at the first hotel I saw. After a great night's sleep and breakfast I'm off again, 18 miles to Ragged Point Inn. Then will have to deal with the first road closure.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fafafa; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.87); font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: small; white-space: normal;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I have in my notes that around 9:35pm the tide was coming in close to the trail so I took a parallel road.</span></span></span><br />
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My logs on Facebook:<br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="767" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fnatalie.larson.9%2Fposts%2F907207811336&width=500" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="500"></iframe><br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="256" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fnatalie.larson.9%2Fposts%2F907419437236&width=500" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="500"></iframe>Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-67376327426054381772017-10-07T15:30:00.000-07:002017-10-12T11:30:53.900-07:00Day 17 - Sept. 5<!-- salad from restaurant, vegan bars, guy at convenience store warns me $1,000 fine for taking the closed road, see bikers coming out of the road, say go ahead -->
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; letter-spacing: normal;">Motel 6, San Simeon to Treebones Resort, Big Sur</span><br />
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From my Facebook logs:</div>
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"My phone has no connection and Wi-Fi is scarce. When it's available it barely works. But quick update.</div>
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Day 17: Following the girls' GPS from last year I missed San Simeon beach. The CCT has a regular route and and alternative route, which is basically highway 1. The girls took the highway. I found a trail tocut down to the beach for a final segment, it was much better than walking the highway. I made sure not to miss the next off road segment, a trail that led tos secluded black sand beach with a secret lake. The trail wound around through a rock arch near the water. The moss covered rocks were beautiful but slippery and as soon as I made it around the point I was searching for a way to the top of the canyon surrounding the beach, the tide seemed to be coming in. Off in the distance I spotted what looked like a path up and ran for it. It was a slide of sand that I had to run up. It felt like a stair stepper, with every step up my foot slid down a little. I was happy to have escaped the waves. At the top I was greeted with small dunes covered with green foliage as far as the eye could see, and more ocean cliffs. I followed the path, which skirted the cliffs, around and down to a second beach (I made sure there was a path back to the top at the end). Another deserted gem, everything was covered in fog, then suddenly the sun came out and I was simultaneously enamored with the views and scared about my water running out. I headed back to the road. After a few miles i saw what looked like a trail leading to the coast, where the official trail should have been. I followed it and for a half mile or so it was wonderful,more breathtaking views of the ocean from high cliffs, but then it abruptly ended at the top of a large gully. I took what appeared to be a trail leading back to the road, but it soon became overgrown with thorns and poison oak. Having no other choice I went through. I vowed then to simply follow the alternate route through the highway until Ragged Point.</div>
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At the Ragged Point Inn I met Chris who had told me onthe phone of an alternate route to get around the mud slide, he also said bikers were getting through the closed road at night. After dinner, device charging, and lots of debate (and meeting an interesting fellow traveler, by car, who didn't know theroad was closed!) I decided on the alternate mountain route which was actually an alternate route for the CCT.</div>
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Wanting to get more miles inthat night I set outfor the trail. Chris had triedto warmme it was gnarly but I wanted to try. After about 10 feet I saw what he meant. I couldn't even findthe trail in the dark or else I needed to dosome climbing. Taking the closed road seemed safer, so I did. I was relieved when after 8 miles I was on the other side.</div>
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I ran by a resort I stayed at on my way to Western States last year. Then made out to Treebones, a glamping resort where residents stay in yurts and share a bathroom, they had said I could join for $10 breakfast. But it was 4am. The bathroom was unlocked so I charged my phone and took a shower. I had burst into tears the nightbefore at motel 6 when the receptionist said there was nothing she could do for me when I had no cash for the vending machine shampoo. She did give me some shampoos after my tears, she told me it was a small thing not worth crying over, i told her notwhen you haven't showered in for days, don't know when you'll shower again, and pay $80 for a hotel. So... finding a free shower complete with shampoo was a miracle blessing, especially after the poison oak"<br />
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While in the bathroom a woman graciously gave me the Wi-Fi password and I did some planning for the next leg and enjoyed my connection with the outside world. After the shower I found a flat patch of dirt amongst the bushes, out of the way of the glampers, and slept for a couple of hours before joining the $10 breakfast.<br />
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There were fences and signs prohibiting access to the coast after I went through the patch of poison oak and thorns. I have in my notes that the road was closed near La Cruz Rock for habitat restoration. I tried going down the road a little ways but headed back to the highway, didn't want to violate the law. There was a sign for a Sea Otter Game Refuge from Carmel to Cambria west of Highway 1. I wasn't sure if I could take the trail there so stuck to the highway. This was near the section overgrown will thorns and poison oak. <span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Perhaps following the highway here, as the girls last year did too, is the only option right now.</span><br />
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I have in my notes that I missed a part of the elephant seal path, a small path that takes tourists by elephant seals. I was on the less scenic highway instead but saw the seals from the road. There was a section of trail near the lighthouse that was roped off so I didn't take it, later there was a sign saying that the beaches in that area are closed because of the seals.<br />
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Photos not in chronological order - hope to fix later<br />
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<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-version="7" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYwPn-WlYrf/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Black sand beach #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:49:47+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:49pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:48:44+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:48pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:47:50+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:47pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:47:11+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:47pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:46:38+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:46pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:31+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:29+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:25+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:21+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:14+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:10+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:43:07+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:43pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-06T16:38:50+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 6, 2017 at 9:38am PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-06T16:30:40+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 6, 2017 at 9:30am PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-06T16:23:31+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 6, 2017 at 9:23am PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-06T16:21:18+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 6, 2017 at 9:21am PDT</time></div>
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I learned later on this is where local monks congregate:
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-06T16:19:29+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 6, 2017 at 9:19am PDT</time></div>
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My original Facebook post:</div>
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Photos from Day 17, 18, 19:
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<br />Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-78738786801006126142017-10-07T15:00:00.000-07:002017-10-12T14:10:38.181-07:00Day 18 - Sept. 6<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; letter-spacing: normal;">Treebones Resort, Big Sur to 36.17263, -121.68997 -- side of Cabrillo Highway, Big Sur</span></span><br />
<style type="text/css"><!--td {border: 1px solid #ccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}--></style><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">This is what I wrote in my log for the day:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><br /><i>"Day 18: almost stopped at monastery but it was two miles off course. Today found carmelite monastery whose patron is Teresa of Avila on my route. Many beautiful view of ocean, walked until too tired, crashed out of the way roadside. Comfy grass. Longer stretches without food and water, more planning required."</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I awoke in my bivy bag either from the sun, a groundskeeper, which I saw upon waking, or my alarm. Likely my alarm as I didn't want to miss a $10 gourmet (camping there cost upwards of $300) breakfast buffet. The Treebones owners were exceptionally nice on the phone and I hoped they wouldn't mind my sleeping on their property for a little while, I also hoped none of the paying customers had seen me.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">At breakfast, I sat by myself but a few people noticed my gear and came over to ask what I was doing, they guessed I was doing a long-distance trek. One of the women I had seen in the bathroom, around 4am, told me she was glad to see me at breakfast.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPM6sYICtf9-qQIwUbjstfFeuZW_fy5dhCmmqIhuyyAQU_4Ml4_YPJgkQldgXawAES6fipd0deR8ACiCypmL5YZAFKvsLeOs9LBxmVMOGWODeSNxIM4h_YjzwtyqfYySzrjghYY3cWwos/s1600/IMAG2627+%25282017-09-06T08_12_19.000%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPM6sYICtf9-qQIwUbjstfFeuZW_fy5dhCmmqIhuyyAQU_4Ml4_YPJgkQldgXawAES6fipd0deR8ACiCypmL5YZAFKvsLeOs9LBxmVMOGWODeSNxIM4h_YjzwtyqfYySzrjghYY3cWwos/s640/IMAG2627+%25282017-09-06T08_12_19.000%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">The buffet had ample vegan options -- bread with natural style peanut butter and jam, house made granola (very good!) with soy milk and blueberry compote, oranges, juice, tea, and coffee. I went back for a few servings while trying to get the Wi-Fi to work. No luck. I asked the staff for assistance and they let me use their own tablet! I was trying to plan out the next leg of the journey. When I told the staff what I was doing they offered to make phone calls for me, and returned with a list of various lodging options. Unfortunately they were all outside my price range. Planning lodging in advance was difficult as I always wanted to get in the maximum number of miles possible. I called the monks the woman in Guadalupe had mentioned. Their rate was half the others' but they had a two night minimum. So I gave up, and figured I would find a camp on the way, there looked to be a number of campgrounds on the map, or crash somewhere if I had to. It was already getting to be afternoon and I hadn't put in any miles.
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-06T16:18:55+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 6, 2017 at 9:18am PDT</time></span></span></div>
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Lethargic from lack of sleep and the high calorie breakfast I set out. I welcomed a stop at a park with bathrooms four or five miles north. Another mile or so and I came to a police or fire station. I laid down in a patch of grass in front of the building -- it seemed like a safe place, and closed my eyes for fifteen minutes. Getting up again I started to debate whether or not I should stop to see the monks, they were two miles off course, up a mountain. I decided that I didn't need to see the monks to have a religious experience. I wrote in my notes, "God is with you everywhere." I looked at large grasses blowing in the wind and could see God there. "You don't have to go to a monastery to be with God." Nature, this trail, were my way of being with God.</span></span>
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I still made it my goal to reach the monastery by 4:30pm, in time for the evening Vespers service, just in case I changed my mind about visiting the monks when I got there. While I had an internet connection I had also found a Carmelite monastery, the same branch I had joined briefly fourteen years ago, </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">near the city of Carmel right along the CCT</span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">, and decided I would stop in when I passed it. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I turned on my Gregorian Chant and Kundalini yoga music, and listened to it as I covered the next few miles. Most of it was in another language, either Latin or Punjabi. The Gregorian Chant I knew from my short time as a nun, and the yoga music I had downloaded from a teacher at the yoga studio half a mile from my place in Riverside, my second home. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">This place did seem holy, the scenery was breathtaking, and I pictured the groups of Catholic and Buddhist monks I had heard lived in the area, as I ran.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Since my initial injury by a massage therapist and the ensuing cascade of other injuries last year, Jennifer, Michael, Michelle, and Marlene, Kiyomi, and Mohara had all tried to help me heal. Jennifer with raw vegan juice and food, Michael with herbal elixirs, many Pranic Healing sessions, and gifts of his own salt lamp and jewelry with special stones, Marlene with gentle massage, Michelle with her wisdom, Kiyomi with her essential oils, and Mohara with yoga and various rubs. At the studio I attended a Pranic Healing session one weekend and the teacher told me that she kept seeing water, that water was the way to my healing. A few weeks later, Jennifer and Michael were selling juice at a health expo and I stopped by. They said I should have a session with a Reiki healer there, so I did. After her session she too told me that she kept seeing water, that my path to healing would involve water somehow. Already by San Clemente I started wondering, "could this be the water to which they were referring?" Two weeks before I started my journey on the CCT I had been unable to run with the group in my hometown of Muscatine without severe pain, and somehow, I had covered hundreds of miles on the CCT already, pain-free.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="background-color: #fafafa; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.87); font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; letter-spacing: normal; white-space: pre-wrap;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:54:23+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:54pm PDT</time></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "times"; letter-spacing: -0.12px; white-space: normal;">I came to a patch of construction work, apparently there had been a small mud slide and only one lane on the two lane road was open. A worker told me that I would have to wait to be driven across the construction zone, but after I explained my run, he said that I could do it on foot, with the condition that I run at a fast pace, so that the cars wouldn't have to wait too long. And run I did! The sun was beating down by this time but I had been moving slowly until now and had the energy to zoom ahead. I pretended I was running a 100 mile mountain race. The workers at the other end were impressed, but I knew most of my running friends could easily have run the same speed over that segment. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fafafa;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">In fact, I knew that most of them could cover the 25-30 miles a day that I was covering, too. Some ultra runners did that much in their daily training, while holding down full time jobs! Pete Kostelnick, a fellow Iowan whom I had paced at Western States the year before, had run over 70 miles a day to set the world record for fastest crossing of the United States, and regularly ran thirty miles a day in training. Yolanda Holder, a nearly sixty year old ultra runner who lives in the neighboring town of Corona had just walked nearly 60 miles a day for over fifty days to complete the Sri Chinmoy Self Transcendence race around a single city block in New York. And I knew the AT, PCT, and other long trail records had FKTs with averages of nearly 50 miles per day. But, I didn't want to aggravate my injuries, my first goal was just finishing. Navigation and trying to follow the trail as closely as possible turned out to take a lot of time too, and keeping my phone charged necessitated that I either spend the night at a hotel or sit in one place for a few hours each day. This was also my first long distance hike and I had grabbed a few things and went, without much planning. I have in my notes that today I listened to another Rich Roll podcast episode in which he mentioned that naïveté can be a good thing. If you don't know the real risks you can be bolder and more confident, aspiring to achieve things that the more knowledgeable might see as out of reach.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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I made it to the monastery just in time for Vespers. Pausing to consider my options, I again decided that I should keep moving forward, this journey was my lot and my work. A few steps down the road was the Lucia Lodge and Store. I stopped at the store to buy dinner and snacks for the road (over $40!). I should've checked the price tags. The man at the store, Tony, was friendly. We talked while I ate my dinner of canned beans and cereal with soy milk and charged my phone as it dangled from an outdoor outlet high above. I had bought a couple of Big Sur stickers, I liked the artist. He said I should put one on my water bottle, and brought out a scissors to help me carve the stickers into shapes that would fit the molded plastic. He also offered me a free postcard. When I told him I couldn't carry it with me he said he would mail it, and when I arrived home it was there.<br />
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-08T18:44:11+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 8, 2017 at 11:44am PDT</time></div>
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As I left Lucia the sun began to set. I was grateful for the road closures as this made the traffic thin. With the towering cliffs in Big Sur the CCT generally stuck to Highway one. Tony had told me about the upcoming water and food stops and I had made notes in my waterproof notebook, which I consulted as I ran. He had said I might get water at the Esalen Institute, about ten miles up the road. By the time I arrived at Esalen night had fallen. I saw a man with a flashlight directing visitors in one of Esalen's parking lots. I asked him about the water. Unfortunately they couldn't offer me any, but he said the park up ahead had water and a bathroom and said that if I was looking to camp there was a site just down the road from the park with big boulders where he often saw people camping. It wasn't strictly legal but the police seemed to let people stay there, it was on the ocean side of Highway 1. I asked the man what Esalen was about, he said, "everything, you should look it up." The next day, sitting in a bar charging my phone, I found a placard about Esalen right in front of me. What a place I had run by! It was the birthplace of the "Big Sur Folk Festivals," which featured many 60s music legends. In 1964 Joan Baez held a workshop at Esalen, "The New Folk Music," which was the start of the series. Wikipedia says that Esalen "<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">became the center of practices and beliefs that make up the </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Age_movement" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration-line: none;" title="New Age movement">New Age movement</a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">," and holds workshops on </span></span>yoga, spirituality, meditation, organic food, and psychology, among other things.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I found the park, it was a short detour inland but as promised had water and bathrooms. I refilled my two bottles, then trekked back to the highway, looking for the boulder landmarks that the man at Esalen had told me about. After a few miles and no boulders -- it was by now completely dark and my cheap flashlight did little to illuminate my surroundings -- I resigned myself to simply looking for any reasonable place to lay out my bivy bag. I came to a dirt road leading off the highway and followed it for a little while, I worried that some vehicle could come barreling down the road and run me over, so went back to the highway and continued looking. I was growing increasingly sleepy. Every place that looked like a good place to camp had a sign prohibiting it. Finally, I spotted a flat patch of grass under a tree, just off the road, and took it. The grass made perfect bedding and contentedly I fell asleep.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">My Original Facebook posts:
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-64254553808638077592017-10-07T14:30:00.000-07:002017-10-12T18:30:24.455-07:00Day 19 - Sept. 7<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">36.17263, -121.68997 -- side of Cabrillo Highway, Big Sur to Garrapata Trout Farm Road</span></span><br />
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<i><span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">"</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Behind on my updates, hopefully can write more when I get the chance.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Day 19: Hiked from Big Sur to </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">8 miles outside Carmel. Got a mile up the road I was supposed to use and found it closed for fires. Went back and took highway instead. Very windy, cold, misty. Crossed Bixby Bridge, was glad it was night so there wasless traffic. A woman stopped on the bridge to ask if I needed help, we talked for a few minutes and she said she saw herself in me that wehad a connection. I do feel the people I meet on this journey are special. They are part of this unique experience I'm having out here."</span></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I awoke to a crowd of men on bikes racing past. I overheard one of them say, "look at that guy, sleeping right there [in plain sight]!" I hadn't realized how conspicuous I was. Oh well, I had slept through another night and was awake now. I gathered my things as fast as I could and got on the road. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:56:03+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:56pm PDT</time></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I had packed a brand of trail mix that was slightly more natural than the brand carried by every gas station in California. It didn't have added sugar or oil, just dried fruits and nuts. This particular "womens' mix" also contained chocolate pieces. There was no milk in the ingredient list, but upon closer inspection I saw a warning that the product contained milk. It violated my vegan vow but it was too late, I had already bought it. So I finished off the bag as my breakfast.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I began to see people on bikes with puffy wheels so figured I must be getting close to some of the resorts with food and water on the route. After a few miles, I arrived at Nepenthe, a resort with an outdoor coffee shop overlooking the mountains and a gift shop, the Phoenix, full of exotic new age gifts. I took a picture in the Napenthe bathroom, which was covered in paintings. And sampled some of the perfumes in the shop, I was still looking for something to ward off animals and make myself a little more presentable. The bottle were all too big though, so I declined buying anything. I wondered up to the coffee shop, where the barista offered to steam me some soy milk for free, to add to my plain coffee. The views from the coffee shop's terrace were amazing, and I read later that writers retreated here, I could see why.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Interestingly, "Nepenthe" was the name of a fictional drug used to forget sorrows cited in ancient Greek literature and mythology. The resort Nepenthe was built around a house that Orson Welles and Rita Hayworth had bought together to celebrate their affair. The Nepenthe restaurant opened in 1949 and was visited by Clint Eastwood and Man Ray among others.
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYyl809Ffl9/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-08T18:43:21+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 8, 2017 at 11:43am PDT</time></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYwQxuQlcYt/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Gift shops here are great, paintings in the bathrooms!</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T20:59:51+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 1:59pm PDT</time></span></span></div>
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A few miles down the road I arrived at the Big Sur Deli and Tap House. I ordered a vegan sandwich at the deli and charged my phone in the bar, making use of the free wireless Internet and planning out my next stopping points. As I was packing up to leave I heard someone call my name. Who could it be out here in the middle of nowhere? Tony, from the Lucia Store and Lodge had just walked in. He merrily greeted me. I told him I was just heading out and he proceeded to list the next water stops, and told me that I should buy a water filter at the camp store a few miles down because after this group of resorts there would be a long stretch without civilization <span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">(until Carmel By the Sea), and I would have to rely on streams. There was one restaurant on the way, but it would be closed by the time I arrived, in the middle of the night.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">My original Facebook post:</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYwQ8vZFj6I/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Listening to The Grateful Dead, enjoying my vegan sandwich. Just had to buy this Big Sur pin with my spirit animal on it.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-07T21:01:21+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 7, 2017 at 2:01pm PDT</time></div>
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*I heard the The Grateful Dead from Big Sur to Shelter Cove, which reminded me of my childhood. They are my dad's favorite band and he often had their music on growing up. I finally understood the band's magic when I saw the documentary "Long Strange Trip," just before I left for the CCT.<br />
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I stopped at the camp store as Tony had instructed, and bought a straw water filter. You put it in your glass and as you suck the water through the straw it filters out pathogens. This was my first such device, it was relatively small and lightweight though, perfect for my trek. I also bought a tiny tin of Tiger Balm to lubricate and sterilize (I reasoned the camphor and menthol would work as an antimicrobial) the blister I had lanced a few days before, it was still bothering me. The Tiger Balm turned out to do a great job alleviating the pain of the blister, although it would persist until the end of my journey.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">After the Valero gas station in Big Sur, the last outpost before the long stretch without services, I wrote in my notes that there was a section of the trail I couldn't do because there was a sign stating that the road was private. I don't believe the two women hiking the year before did this section either. I took the highway instead. This was a small trail segment.</span><br />
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I approached the second mud slide. Here the locals had taken over an existing trail and were using it to get around the impasse. Groups of school children on their way home for the day lined the trail.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BYymRUSFlTA/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Locals walking the trail to get around the road closure die to mud slide #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-08T18:46:09+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 8, 2017 at 11:46am PDT</time></div>
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I ran down the highway until I came to Old Coast Road, which connects Big Sur and Carmel. It was the route used to travel between the two cities before the iconic Bixby Bridge was built in 1932. As I started down the road a truck with a dog chasing it passed me. A little while later it passed me from the other direction. This pattern continued until I reached the top of a mile-long climb, this was apparently the dog's exercise. The driver yelled, "you should run as fast as my dog!" And then headed down the hill one last time. At the top of the hill there was a sign stating that the road and National Forest were closed. So I backtracked one mile and headed out on Highway 1 again. Perhaps pedestrians were allowed? I wasn't sure what to do so erred on the side of caution, already having traversed one closed road and not wanting to have to cross any others.<br />
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Night fell and I couldn't quite make out my surroundings, but there appeared to be high hills to my left and whatever the terrain was it acted like a wind tunnel. I kept my head down, ploughing forward. After an hour or so the landscape changed, I had passed the Sea Otter Game Refuge, and the wind wasn't so strong. Many miles later the road began to climb and I was running along the edge of some steep drops. The wind was strong again, and cold. A car stopped to ask if I was okay. No one else was out and she parked on the highway. She said that I reminded her of herself, that we had a connection. Her name was Avalon, the legendary island associated with mystical experiences and people in Celtic lore. She warmed me of the wind up ahead on Bixby Bridge. I felt a connection with her too. This journey was special and the people whom fate chose to cross my path would forever be part of it.<br />
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I made it to the closed restaurant, and considered camping there so that I could have breakfast in the morning. It didn't open until 11am, so I decided to run on and look for an out of the way place to crash for the night. A few miles down I turned onto a side road, what looked like a private road for one family farm, and laid my bivy out under a tree sitting on a raised plot of land.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Original Facebook posts:</span><br />
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</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">"</span>Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-69289098984261058702017-10-07T14:00:00.000-07:002017-10-12T19:08:39.282-07:00Day 20 - Sept. 8<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Garrapata Trout Farm Road to Monterey Beach Dunes Inn</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px;">From my logs:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px;">Day 20: woke up under a tree on a side street where I had crashed the night before. Ran down the highway a little way and then cut down to the beach. Met a man with his dog there, he didn't know how to get up from the beach on the other end. I found a way to climb out on what looked like a trail built into rock. It led to the top of a waterfall. More highway miles, and then a beautiful rainbow over the ocean. One more highway section and then two residential loops with huge houses on the coast, I wondered who lived in them. Made it to Carmel and refueled at a gas station I remembered from a previous trip. Just after I left, met the guys hiking the CCT south, funny we should meet at the halfway point. Ran through a long loop at a nature park, cool views of cliffs, seals, trees.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px;">Wanting to stay in a hotel I booked a room. I didn't realize with all the little curves it would end up being a marathon away... I started jogging faster to make the 4am cutoff for check in. Stopped by another hotel on the way, to see if I could buy food, a guest standing nearby handed me his cookies. The hotel was giving them out for free. The woman at the desk offered me a free coffee and I took it, filled up my bottle with lemon water and went on my way. Running down a bike path I was moving well until about 1.5 miles from the hotel. I was supposed to cut to the beach, run a stretch, the woman had said the hotel was right near the beach. I went thru a lonnnnng corridor flanked with huge sand dunes on either side to get from the bike path to the ocean. After half a mile running down the beach my phone died. Worried I would miss the hotel I climbed up one of the dunes, holding onto roots to help myself up. It led to a huge crater surrounded by even bigger dunes! Could not see anything,dunes blocked my view. Luckily was able to climb down again, it would have been a great place to camp up there, protected from the wind. But I had my reservation. Distraught I asked for help finding my way in this alien landscape. It was foggy and dark but I could make out a wire demarcating a protected area. Holding the wire I followed it, thinking at least itwas a signof civilization, until I saw another wire on the other side, a path! I followed the path, which led over a few dunes, and lo it ended at a parking lot, what I had hoped. Off in the distance I saw a hotel, luckily it turned out to be mine, and I made it with 45 minutes to spare.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Also from my logs for today:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">And the man with the purple jacket. To avoid walking through a wedding party on the beach I climbed up some rocks to get to a landing. There was a middle aged man sitting on a bench there and I apologized for disturbing him, said I was just trying to avoid the wedding. He said it was beautiful, that it made him wish he was getting married. I had been thinking exactly the same thing. We had a moment. He said he had a front row seat, he had been watching it. When he said he lik</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">ed my colorful cloths I told him about my run. He seemed to well up with tears. He was so happy for me. "Will you be on the news?" he asked. "This is something you will remember your whole life. You have my complete support." He was so kind, I wish I had gotten his full name. He had the most interesting first name, that started with an "A" just like the girl who stopped on the highway.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">I saw this rainbow and thought, "maybe my trials are over?"</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifp5zmZ4pmO0cu-F8t6_8kqlCRiKlTl74gSqqjDNAKjEA9Z33n4-U_EwjQnjvpqRNDVBhnKIEaa4W3kyxRT1eLqcQ-s9mnt9dHyVOjGROS8X5LJo6T4TO_ts2fJUYDQThY52mq6vpsRss/s1600/21458034_908175626826_6515505554436345716_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="1600" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifp5zmZ4pmO0cu-F8t6_8kqlCRiKlTl74gSqqjDNAKjEA9Z33n4-U_EwjQnjvpqRNDVBhnKIEaa4W3kyxRT1eLqcQ-s9mnt9dHyVOjGROS8X5LJo6T4TO_ts2fJUYDQThY52mq6vpsRss/s640/21458034_908175626826_6515505554436345716_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Route notes:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trail closed for construction around Garrapata State Park</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Took alternate route instead of beach because no trespassing sign and construction vehicles</span><span style="font-family: "roboto slab" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-08T18:47:22+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 8, 2017 at 11:47am PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T06:20:54+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 9, 2017 at 11:20pm PDT</time></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T06:28:03+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 9, 2017 at 11:28pm PDT</time></div>
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-77734054496512050192017-10-07T13:30:00.000-07:002017-10-12T21:47:50.847-07:00Day 21 - Sept. 9<!--
Day 21
Last night running with music took bike paths, 43 mikes or do. Cookies and lattes and lemon water, gas Stein batteries razor, snacks, must be there before four am. Make it to beach. Huge dunes, long path to beach huge dunes in either side. Made it to the beach. Ran down the beach and my watch died my phone was dead the battery light on the spot device was blinking red. I thought by now I should have arrived at the hotel but I couldn't see anything because the dunes were huge. I saw a shorter do not looked like you could climb out I tried tried it I got to the top and there is a huge basin more tired dunes rising up on either on all sides. I ran up one of the dunes to get a better look but I couldn't see anything it would have been a great place to camp nobody around soft sand and huge dunes around me to protect me from the wind I almost can't but I was worried the hotel would charge my credit card anyway. Frustrated and scared I started to cry and prayed that I would find a way out suddenly. I went back to the beach luckily I was able to climb down again. After hyperventilating for a few moments I continued down the beach figuring that that was the way the trail went and eventually I would find people. Suddenly I saw a wire and a post and the sign saying that the area was protected a natural habitat. I couldn't see very well the sand in the surf clot in my glasses and it was dark at night my flashlight didn't help much. So I grabbed the wire and held it and walk along until I reached a point where they were wires on either side it look like a path I was so happy. I followed the path over more dunes and eventually there was wood on the path wish I thought my list be close to a hotel normal people don't walk very far. And sure enough time made it to a parking lot for cars I walk down the lot and to my left I saw hotel I went down to the hotel and it was my hotel. I heard this fast as I could to do all my chores but I still didn't get to sleep until about 4 a.m. luckily I was there before the hotel wouldn't let people check in. I woke up around noon check out what's supposed to be at noon I hurried luckily there were donuts in the lobby and coffee then I started walking down the beach this and makes everything slow. I realized that I missed my opportunity to pick up my packages that I had mailed to myself at loss landing sad about that I was going to have a solar charger and an iMac. Its late already and I have it covered very many miles I still want to get in 30 I guess I need to start jogging more I'm not insured anymore it seems so hopefully I can do that. I had a moment just now around the nature preserve I remember it Johnson and how everything was so great with him and it made me sad that he's me he's married now. I hope that I find someone. Its a lot colder here I hope that I will be warm enough.
Seems like a profound thought when I die I will become part of the earth to. This whole journey is making me realize how connected to this medical earth. Physical we evolve out of it.
Cleopald, not coming down song
Had to wade across river again, scary,couldn't find a sand bar, wondering around in the inlet, followed birds. Water up to waist but I didn't have to swim. Waves at moth.
Seinfeld there's a fish a rock who cares don't die! Scuba diving skit
Pop song reminds me of all bothers at Grinnell, I'm strong, I can stay up again tonight.make out to Santa Cruz. Uc is there. Exciting. Look forward to civilization.
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; letter-spacing: normal;">Monterey Beach Dunes Inn to Manresa Uplands Campground</span><br />
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From my logs for the day:<br />
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Day 21: Overslept and missed my chance to pick up the smaller solar charger waiting for me at the Moss Landing post office. Also missed breakfast, but there were doughnuts and coffee in the lobby. I made an exception on my vegan diet for the free food, my policy so far.</div>
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Another river crossing, luckily only waist deep water. Had to wander around in the water for a while trying to follow the shallowest part. Lots of birds, churning water, hardly any people on the beach. Great restaurant with vegan Mexican food and art. Have to detour inland to avoid crossing a bigger river. Would have struggled to find my way off the beach but there was a couple having a fire right by the entrance. Missed gas station closing by half an hour, maybe 20 more miles tonight. Or maybe camp, lots of campgrounds with water on the way to Santa Cruz.</div>
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I wrote my log while charging my phone on the cold pavement at the gas station that had closed just before I arrived. The attendant let me use the restroom and showed me an outdoor outlet, I was grateful. I took the alternate route inland to avoid having to cross the Pajaro River, which the guidebook warned could be impassable.</div>
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It looks like I ran 10+ miles to get to the Manresa Uplands Campground. I couldn't find the check-in and so took an empty site and slept for a couple of hours before being woken again by the sun.</div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I have in my notes that the trip sometimes felt like this Seinfeld skit:</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY2b3l4FhCR/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">This picture was taken while crossing the river today, luckily only waist deep water #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T06:32:13+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 9, 2017 at 11:32pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY2c3lGF0ft/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">The angel feels appropriate, was so happy to find this place with amazing vegan food after enduring my second river crossing of the trip.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T06:40:57+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 9, 2017 at 11:40pm PDT</time></div>
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<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-67977103830082390482017-10-07T13:00:00.000-07:002017-10-12T21:30:33.453-07:00Day 22 - Sept. 10<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Manresa Uplands Campground to Wilder Ranch State Park</span><br />
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Day 22 Journal:<br />
"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Woke up at camp where I crashed late the night before. Ran a few miles and tried to get to the nearest food/water (I hadn't had access in maybe 20 miles), followed stairs up from the beach, wrong way, followed another path up but there was a locked gate. Met a man walking his dog, he told me about his favorite coffee place down the shore. He said of my trek, "isn't there easier way to get there?"</span><span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="smile emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v9/f4c/1/16/1f642.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;">:)</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">I was just thinking how much better this is than driving!</span><br />
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Spent a long time at the coffee shop, had to upload photos so could delete from phone. Ate every vegan thing on the menu. Got out the door in the afternoon, only six miles down.</div>
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Walked through Santa Cruz, beautiful views, saw sunset. Decided to detour to sports store to get extra emergency bivy in case of rain and cold up north. Also grabbed pair on plain insoles, my left arch hurting, maybe too much support in the custom insole.</div>
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Stopped by Whole Foods nearby and ran into my friend Eileen!! I had been debating whether to take the detour, this made me feel it was the right choice. I ate a wrap and meet a woman, Jean, who offered to let me stay at her house, but I needed more miles.</div>
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Walked on and stopped at Starbucks to recharge. Then into the night. A thin man asked me if I had a lighter, I did not. He told me about getting a PhD at Stanford in aerospace engineering and we talked about my project at NASA with ADSB. He is mostly a fruitarian. He encouraged me to apply at Stanford if I ever want to do a PhD.</div>
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I walked on. Very tired I laid out my bivy to the side of the bike trail, but not long after I heard a skateboard approach, then stop near me... I yelled hello but no reply. Angrily cursing I packed up and kept moving.</div>
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A few miles later, near a cliff on a deserted park I tried again and slept a few hours."</div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY366ckF1OE/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Packed up #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T20:22:44+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 10, 2017 at 1:22pm PDT</time></div>
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I heard my name at Whole Foods and turned around to find my friend Eilieen! She had no idea I was doing the hike and asked me if I had moved to Santa Cruz.
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My glasses got scratched up from the strong winds blowing sand on the beach. I remember the night I got lost on the dunes being particularly windy. It reminded me of this Twilight Zone episode:<br />
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I was carrying about two weeks worth of daily contact lenses, in case something happened to my glasses. I ended up wearing the glasses until the end, but don't think I'll be wearing them again.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY37DIwlnxS/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T20:23:55+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 10, 2017 at 1:23pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY37TEAFQv8/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-10T20:26:05+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 10, 2017 at 1:26pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY4raaGly_y/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T03:26:31+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 10, 2017 at 8:26pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY4roxIlQI4/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-09-11T03:28:29+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 10, 2017 at 8:28pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY4rhCPltuJ/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-09-11T03:27:25+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 10, 2017 at 8:27pm PDT</time></div>
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Original Facebook post:<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="300" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fnatalie.larson.9%2Fposts%2F909102748866&width=500" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="500"></iframe>Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-419782394071066552017-10-07T12:30:00.000-07:002017-10-14T14:54:22.994-07:00Day 23 - Sept. 11<!-- I didn't know it at the time -- I thought I would be staying at the hostel -- but the food and water this couple and the woman before gave me -->
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.2px;">Wilder Ranch State Park to </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Ano Nuevo State Park</span><br />
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From my notes:<br />
"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "sf optimized" , , , , ".sfnstext-regular" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">My alarm woke me but I went back to sleep until the sun came up.</span><br />
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I ate the remaining macadamia nuts I was carrying (Reinhold had told me they are his favorite, fat in general has more calories per gram so is good to carry, but macadamias are good fat and don't have a dry texture like other nuts, he said) and got moving, I needed to find more water.</div>
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I walked in Wilder park, along cliffs, and found wild late summer blackberries. The trail skirted a huge farm with fields and fields of brussels sprouts.</div>
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I saw surfers at a beach and asked if they knew where to get water, they did not. I followed the trail and looked for the stream on the map. The stream seemed to have dried up, but near the road I found a metal wheel sticking up from the ground spouting water and filled my bottle. I used my purifying straw to drink it. I tried to follow the trail to the road but it ended in brambles. I fought through them and just as I was about to climb up the ditch I thought maybe I should check out the dusty purse laying behind me. I found a woman's credit cards, ID, hairbrush, sunglasses, tampon case complete with intact tampons... As I was marveling at the purse a farm worker approached me. I showed him the purse and left it there, worried I was on private farm property. He said I shouldn't drink the water there and said there was a house down the road with a hose. He helped me out of the ditch and said he would show me the grounds if I come back... then asked why I was doing my walk and said that I should get married instead of doing such a thing. He gave me a hug goodbye that lasted too long and as I turned to leave he grabbed my arm tightly. I told him I was doing this for religious purposes and for a contest and pointed to my blinking SPOT device. He let go. I did not stop at the house with the hose.</div>
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Following the trail I went down a private road, past a house with a man yelling in the phone about Berkeley minded people walking through his backyard. He said he's like to walk through their backwards... I kept moving...</div>
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After six or so more miles I made it to the town of Davenport, which reminded me of the Iowa town of the same name. I rested and ate the best beet salad. A couple who work with Harvey Lewis asked if i had run Badwater.</div>
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Onward I went. A few miles down the road I found a strawberry farm. The first organic fruit stand in CA, there was a sign to that effect. Everything was self serve, you made your own change, the money day or in a box. Johnny Cash played in the background</div>
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I tried to do a beach segment but the tide was too high, confirmed by a man fishing who had big stranded on a rock there during high tide once. Walking back to the highway I met a woman walking her dog who offered me her catering leftovers, she is a professional chef. She gave me huge bags of almonds and dried figs and apricots, and two cucumbers. I thanked her and had a feast!</div>
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A little way down the road a couple - the man from Portugal, the woman from Japan, offered me more food but I told them I couldn't carry any more! They filled up my water bottle instead.</div>
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Rushing I tried to make it to my hostel before it closed. It was dark, and I had to do what looked like a beach segment. I followed the trail for what seemed like forever from highway to beach. Abruptly the trail ended, and I realized I was on the edge of a high cliff.</div>
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I knew I couldn't do this section in the dark, walked back to the road, debated taking the alternate bike path, but ultimately decided I had no choice but to do the trail in the morning, and so made peace with the fact I would not be staying in a hostel that night. I camped there and fell asleep fast, even though it was early."<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY6Xb3vFfyo/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Good morning!</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T19:10:26+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 11, 2017 at 12:10pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY6XjhwFY4I/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T19:11:29+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 11, 2017 at 12:11pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY6XokLFgOj/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">#californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T19:12:10+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 11, 2017 at 12:12pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY6XueSlKWV/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Water!! Glad I had my purifier</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T19:12:59+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 11, 2017 at 12:12pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY6YQYRl3Uf/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">I might have never been happier to see Davenport! Long stretch without civilization. We have a Davenport near my hometown in Iowa! #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T19:17:36+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 11, 2017 at 12:17pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY6Y81eFOUe/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Ahhhhh civilization....</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-11T19:23:41+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 11, 2017 at 12:23pm PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BZBwWRbFUNb/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">This was a neat water/food stop. Everything is self serve, self pay - make your own change.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-14T16:02:49+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 14, 2017 at 9:02am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BZBwrCNFoTF/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-09-14T16:05:39+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 14, 2017 at 9:05am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BZBxaiXlPSs/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">This couple wanted to give me food but I couldn't carry any more, so they filled up my water bottle instead. From Portugal and Japan.</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-14T16:12:08+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 14, 2017 at 9:12am PDT</time></div>
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650654864703162957.post-30915201800576185352017-10-07T12:00:00.000-07:002017-10-26T16:07:31.549-07:00Day 24 - Sept. 12<!--
The Ritz had specifically reminded me of my time doing research at the Simula Research Center in Norway one summer and fall during grad school. I had gone on a trip with my then boyfriend from Germany to see the world cup final in Berlin. Germany won and the city went crazy. I had gotten us a free room at the Ritz Carlton in Berlin with the Marriott points I had earned during my internship with NASA, we had been housed at a Marriott for two months that summer and by the end we all had so many Marriott points we were Platinum Elite members. I was in such a different position now. Would I ever get my security clearance? Would I ever work in computer science again? Would I ever be in a position to stay at a Ritz Carlton again? Would I be more content at a job with the National Parks Service? I wondered as I ran by.
Grateful, no matter what, that my life had aligned in such a way that I was able to do this trip.
Actually, the Ritz had specifically reminded me of my time doing research at the Simula Research Center in Norway one summer and fall during grad school. I had gone on a trip with my then boyfriend from Germany to see the world cup final in Berlin. Germany won and the city celebrated. I had gotten us a free room at the Ritz Carlton in Berlin with the Marriott points I had earned during my internship with NASA, we had been housed at a Marriott for two months that summer and by the end we all had so many Marriott points we had Platinum Elite status. I was in such a different position now. Would I ever get my security clearance? Would I ever work in computer science again? Would I be in a position to stay at a Ritz Carlton?
Berghain
Luckily the people at this shop warmed me that the road signs for the only two roads leading out of town from here had been swapped! I couldn't believe it. I would have gone off running in the wrong direction.
I met a nice woman and a man here who said he had seen me running earlier that day, he told me about a couple of hotels in Half Moon Bay, but I wasn't sure what time I would arrive so didn't want to make a reservation. When I got to town I tried calling a hotel near the route but it turned out to be a B&B and the owner wasn't too friendly, he did tell me about the campground though, which fit perfectly with my timing and the route.
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Ano Nuevo State Park to Half Moon Bay Francis Beach Campground</span><br />
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From my notes:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">"In the daylight the trail was easy to follow, made me glad I had waited, it would have been easy to step off into the abyss.</span><br />
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The trail eventually wound down to the beach. I tried to avoid walking through a stream but realized there was no way around it. I was reminded of the song "wade in the water," "if you're avoiding the trouble, it'll really be trouble."</div>
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I made it to the lighthouse hostel, where I had hoped to stay the night before. Recharged. I found myself jogging again after many slow walking days. I wanted to make it to a corner store before it closed at six. It was twelve miles up and would be my only chance for food and water on the coming twenty plus miles. I arrived at 5:45. It was an oasis complete with tie dye shirts, kale salad, and a basket of pins. Sifting through them I found, "Not all who wander are lost," in the same swirling shape as the CCT symbol.</div>
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It got dark, I worried a white van was following me. A car stopped to ask if I was okay and I told the driver, Oscar, about the van. He offered to drive behind me until I got to the highway. I had a security guard. Relieved. The trail turned to a residential area and then wound around the Ritz Carlton, where there seemed to be a conference. Guests laughed in circles on staggered patios lit with torches. I smiled at the contrast with my current situation. Following the path a few miles on I finished the day with 30 miles, right at a camp."</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">At the convenience store oasis I met a nice woman and a man who said he had seen me running earlier that day. </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Luckily they warmed me on the way out that two road signs in the town had been swapped! I couldn't believe it. I would have gone off running in the wrong direction. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;">The Ritz had specifically reminded me of my time doing research at the Simula Research Center in Norway one summer and fall during grad school. I had gone on a trip with my then boyfriend from Germany to see the world cup final in Berlin. Germany won and the city went crazy. I had gotten us a free room at the Ritz Carlton in Berlin with the Marriott points I had earned during my internship with NASA, we had been housed at a Marriott for two months that summer and by the end we all had so many Marriott points we were Platinum Elite members. I was in such a different position now. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Trail notes:</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"<span style="letter-spacing: normal; white-space: pre-wrap;">High tide near Pescadoro SB, could only do little part of beach segment, girls didn't do any of it, guide book said can't do it if high tide" -- the guidebook says, "</span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Since the beach backs against high cliffs, don't
go unless you're sure of the tides. If you have doubts, don't do it.</span><span style="letter-spacing: normal; white-space: pre-wrap;">"</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BZBxkCKFZyP/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens)</a> on <time datetime="2017-09-14T16:13:26+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 14, 2017 at 9:13am PDT</time></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pUAE5jxMUZ7v1oyFh1W-OxdiUfGe7iXPXOTLRmZnjeQdoqYSMhUZaOxSIUNnzhhkkmlLYT7LHYQ_36396VciFrNeJoF4O5ZjsT48_uuGjaVb740cXGseatY8Llyd8WvM7ZfSqJBFsMU/s1600/IMAG3362+%25282017-09-12T17_58_35.000%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pUAE5jxMUZ7v1oyFh1W-OxdiUfGe7iXPXOTLRmZnjeQdoqYSMhUZaOxSIUNnzhhkkmlLYT7LHYQ_36396VciFrNeJoF4O5ZjsT48_uuGjaVb740cXGseatY8Llyd8WvM7ZfSqJBFsMU/s640/IMAG3362+%25282017-09-12T17_58_35.000%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BY_HdgKFJ6r/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">It looks just like the California Coastal Trail symbol! I had to get it #californiacoastaltrail #cct</a></div>
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A post shared by Natalie Larson (@arationallens) on <time datetime="2017-09-13T15:27:03+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 13, 2017 at 8:27am PDT</time></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: -0.12px;">Original Facebook post:</span><br />
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Natalie Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09417547617032127570noreply@blogger.com0