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I'd like to tackle a big hike this summer—I've already summitted Mt. Baldy, but I might do that one again or maybe somewhere even farther north. I'm not sure where yet, but first I need to get back in shape. Over the past year, I really let myself go: not exercising much, eating junk food, and drinking daily. I still enjoy good food and drink, but too much of a good thing is, well, bad.
Recently, I’ve been working to break those habits and get back into exercising, and I can already feel the difference. A few weeks ago, I hiked Monserate and have been alternating every other week between that and biking the Santa Rosa Plateau.
The Plateau is a small mountain preserve just south of Temecula. It peaks around 4,000 feet, but I think the elevation gain from the trailhead to the summit is only about 1,000 feet—Temecula itself sits fairly high, maybe around 2,000 feet. The loop takes about two hours if you go the whole way. It's a popular trail, often filled with hundreds of hikers of all ages. Some of the older regulars clearly walk it every day—and they often give me a run for my money.
This morning, I woke up around 6 a.m. I had planned to sleep in until 8, but my neighbor was loudly walking his dogs with my window open, so I got up. Breakfast was an egg white sandwich. I heated a bit of olive oil with minced garlic, salt, and pepper in a small frying pan—roasting the garlic a little. Sometimes I’ll toss in some dill or turkey bacon. Then I add the egg whites, cover the pan, and toast a brioche bun. This morning I threw on some Muenster cheese and ketchup (no sriracha today—I’ve regretted that choice before while hiking or biking... ouch).
The first 15 minutes are always the hardest. My lungs burn, my knees creak, and I question all my life choices. The terrain is rocky and often steep. The first checkpoint is a fork in the trail: left takes you straight up to the summit, while right leads you down an old service road that loops around the back side of the mountain. It drops you nearly to the base before climbing again. That road technically leads to a water tower and isn’t part of the official park trail.
Behind the water tower, the trail picks back up and follows a ridge. It’s not steep and has relatively gentle drop-offs on both sides—nothing like Devil’s Backbone. For some reason, I always try to jog this stretch. Last time, that’s when I really felt how out of shape I was. It used to be manageable—not easy, but not hard either. This time I was out of breath and dizzy. I didn’t even make it to the stairs.
Oh, did I mention there are stairs?
This time, though, I’ve been riding more regularly and feeling better. So the climb to the stairs was relatively easy. Yes, actual stairs are built into the mountain at one point.
At this point in the hike—like many mountain trails—you’re effectively on the top, but not the top. The frustrating part is that each "top" looks like the summit until you reach it, and it dips slightly before rising again to yet another “summit.”
Eventually, the trail splits again. Right takes you to the actual summit. It’s a bit steep, but not far. There’s even a sign-in box if you want to log your hike. These days, I rarely bother going all the way to the summit.
Left takes you down the mountain.
And here’s where I become one of those weirdos—I jog the whole way down. I even did this on Baldy. It just feels natural. It constantly feels like you're about to fall, but if you pick your feet up as soon as they touch the ground, you’ll be fine. Sometimes my foot catches or my ankle twists, but I just lift it quickly and land on the other foot like nothing happened.
I tend to run in what I call the Asimo stance, mostly because my gait looks a lot like Honda’s Asimo robot. I read somewhere that it’s actually the most efficient way to run downhill and reduces stress on the knees. You keep your palms turned up and imagine you're carrying something delicate. Works like a charm.
