Yesterday was the promised end to another week of hot weather. The air felt think--a strange sensation against the dark sky. As we crested our first hill, the sunrise seemed to radiate heat.
The topography of our trail climbs, drops, twists and turns to create pockets that hide both warm and cold air. As Kona and I dropped to the bottom of the next hill we were greeted by a blast of cold air. I welcomed the goosebumps.
I let Kona run on the side of the trail. She prefers running on ledges, fallen trees and other precarious paths to the wide fireroad. I enjoyed watching her perk up as she balanced along the raised sand ledge. I kept a close eye on Kona, making sure she didn't contemplate a pounce.
By the time we reached the base of our longest descent, ridges and valleys emerged from the shadows of the mountains. Our forest is still a giant sand dune from the fire that burned a year ago. It's a sight I haven't gotten use to.
We met more hikers than the last time we were here. Kona took it in stride until three mountain bikers inched their way in our direction, up a steep hill. I've always been amazed at how unfazed Kona is around cyclists but the zig-zagging (slow) pace of this trio proved to be too much.
We finished our last hill in solitude. I tried to ignore the bottles and cigarette butts that littered our lookout point. The accessibility of this trail makes it a hangout spot for local kids. I was suddenly grateful that all local schools would be back in session soon.
Kona sat perched on the green bench--our favorite picture spot during our winter runs. She sat relaxed, ate treats and seemed to soak up the morning. I followed suit.