Back on the East Side

I just returned to DC from CA where I joined Rich at a conference for campus ministers. The weather was beautiful and an inviting break from the icy DC junk we have going on here. It took them about an hour to de-ice our plane. So, as you can imagine, the 50-70 degree weather in CA was amazing.

Most of the time I was in San Juan Capistrano, I was actually working. However, there were a few hours that I had to myself while the sun was still shining. One of the afternoons, I was able to slip away and go exploring on the trails that led through and over some mountains.

It was earlier in the day and I was conversing with some of the conference attendees.

"If you go up to that mountain, you can see the ocean from there," he said while pointing to a ridge about a half mile away.

I stored the nugget of information and knew that seeing the ocean would be my free-time excursion goal.

I had to wait a day, but on Friday I had some time to myself and the sun was high in the early afternoon sky. I put on my shoes, tied my room key to my shoe lace, and departed by myself. I checked my watch and aimed for an hour of hiking/ running. Besides, I hadn't been able to do any running since arriving to CA. It had been rainy and cold the first two days.

I reached the top of the first ridge within 20 minutes or so. As I approached it, I could see a kite flying, but it wasn't until I got to the top that my heart warmed. It was a father and his two young daughters, whom I learned were Sydney and Cameron. Cameron nervously sucked on a water bottle the whole time I talked to her. Sydney was the big sister and steered the kite. I chatted with them about five minutes. We watched the kite dance a little, but it seemed to crash and hug the ground more than anything. I snapped some pictures.



"Can you see the ocean from anywhere on this trail?" I asked.

"Nah," their father replied. "It's just beyond that tall ridge over there," he pointed (westward I'm assuming). The ridge was quite far from where I stood and there was no easy way to get there. I guess he picked up on my dismay. "You know, the trail continues over there," he pointed to some tall grass that hid the path. "If you follow it, you'll go to the top of the other ridge there and it's another great view."

I followed his finger along the pointed trail and saw the other ridge. It did look like it would have a great view. I said goodbye to him and the girls and set off for the next sight.

It was quite a hike. The trail was defined, but the grade was unforgiving. As I hiked, I'd catch the white tails of bunnies before they disappeared from view into the bushes. They were everywhere. Fifteen minutes later, I reached the top and it was worth burning my muscles. The view was pretty and the wind felt invigorating.

To my left I saw two dogs that looked to be retrievers. A second later, their owner approached me. He had come from one of the houses nearby that was tucked onto the mountain.

"Hope they didn't scare you."

I assured him that they hadn't and we chatted about the view. He said, "if you hike to that ridge over there, you can see the ocean." I looked to where he was pointing... just ahead of me and down the trail about 1/4 mile.

His direction and information conflicted with what Sydney and Cameron's dad had shared. He'd pointed to a different ridge.

Since I was feeling pretty high from my views, I decided to explore his suggested ridge. I checked my watch. I had another three hours and nothing else to do (besides maybe a nap). So, off I went... in search of the ocean.

My legs were really starting to scream and there were a few moments I was nervous about being alone. However, the trail had seemed relatively populated so far and I figured that it was too cold for snakes to be poking around.

I could see the top of the third ridge... twenty yards... then ten... finally, only a few feet.

I bounded (well, maybe not bounded...) over the ridge with hope and enthusiasm that the ocean was sparkling and beautiful.

To my chagrin, there was no ocean. Only three water towers. haha.

What irony!

I had to smile because the setting sun bounced brightly off their tops, just like it would reflect off an ocean. So, I myself even. I took out my camera and snapped my pretend ocean.

Then, I turned around and went back to the retreat center.

Here are some pictures that I haven't included in my story. I love the purple flowers and the lush trees and plants.