Trip Overview
The Lost Coast Trail is a rugged 56 mile trail that runs off the coast of Northern California, in Humboldt and Mendocino County. The terrain includes long stretches of beach trekking, coastal mountains, and undeveloped trail. I plan on completing the Lost Coast southbound in 3 days as a supported run/hike with Aspire Adventure. This means the folks at Aspire will be supporting by carrying larger gear, cooking meals, picking runners up at pre-determined spots, and taking care of a million other small details. I’ll just be running/hiking with just a small hydration vest that has the capacity to carry enough water and food to last me for the day. There are 13 of us in the group that are attempting the Lost Coast Trail.
Click here for trail profile
Day 1, 6/9: 26 Miles, Mottale River to Black Sands Beach
Excitement is high in the morning van ride to Mottale Trailhead where the Lost Coast Trail begins. On the ride over, I sit next to a guy named Aku, who moved to the United States from India for college. He looks to be about my age and currently lives in San Jose, thus making him well aquatinted with trails I have been on ranging from Tahoe to Sonora Pass. “What’s the farthest you have ever run?” he asks me.
“35 miles. Did it a week and a half ago at Lake Sonoma,” I reply. He follows this by telling me he signed up for this event to see how his body would hold up in a multi-day format. I get the sense a majority of the group is not sure how their body will react to these 55 miles in 3 days. There are a few seemingly strong runners, who have talked about finishing a 100 mile races and coaching other runners. But that’s only 2-3 of the 13 of us and none of us have done this whole trail before.
As we arrive at the Mattole trailhead, last minute instructions are given by Abram, founder and director of Aspire, before we officially start our trek. The main thing is we need to make it to Mile 20 before 3:00 pm, as high tide starts to come in and makes a 5 mile section of the Lost Cost Trail impassable. We are beginning at roughly 9 am, so we have 6 hours to trek the 20 miles.
“Directions are simple,” Abram says. “The ocean should always be on your right. If it’s not, you messed up.” And with those words we are off! Sure enough, we all begin on the beach with the ocean only 100 yards or so away. Our feet sink in the soft sand, but after a little while the sand turns into hard packed trail. It’s beautiful, running on this trail with the vast blue Pacific Ocean only a glance way.
After a few miles, we begin to spread out and I’m running up front with 5 others, 4 of them female and one other male. We talk as we run, and I chat mainly with John and Jamie. John is a seasoned ultra-runner who has completed very long races and other trips with Aspire. Jamie currently lives in Mammoth where she has been training as a professional marathon runner for the past few years. It’s pretty good company to be running with.
As the miles tick by, I take a glance at my watch. 11:45. I check how many miles we have covered and it’s only been 9. I turn to Jamie, “Are you worried about reaching the high tide section by 3 pm?” She nods. “Yes, I was just thinking about that. I don’t think we are stopping for any type of lunch break.”
I think of the back half of the runners who we haven’t seen for some time. My thoughts are interrupted by a couple who are hanging out on the sand with large backpacks. “Is there a trail up there?” I ask, motioning with my head to the ledge that sits above the beach. “Sure is,” the man replies. That’s uplifting to hear, as running on the beach has proven to be very….. slow. The beach either has sand that is too soft on to run without sinking or it’s a complete rock-field, forcing you to step from rock to rock making it completely non-runnable.
Regardless, the miles continue to tick away and my only stops are to take off my shoes at water crossings that feed into the ocean. I also stop to stretch out my left leg, as I have a pain developing on the outside of my knee. I’ve had this come up before last year and it turned out to be an IT band related issue due to a sudden drastic increase in miles. I think the same thing may be happening here. I keep a mental note to monitor it further.
I’ve fallen behind the group of 5 I was running with earlier and rack my brain for what time high tide comes in. I can’t remember if it was 3:30 or 4:30. Shit, I think it was 3:30. I take a look at my phone and with alarm, I see it reads 2:40. The next 5 miles are impassable during high tide and in this terrain, I can’t cover 40 minutes in 4 miles. I recoil at the thought of stopping here and having to spend the night on the beach with camping gear I don’t have, waiting until midnight or later for the tides to go back down.
Fuck it, I’m going for it. Adrenaline courses through my body and I feel no more pain in my knee. I’m running on the rocks, jumping from rock to rock to go as fast as possible. 10 minutes into this torrid pace, I see the rest of the group! I catch up to them in no time and I ask Gabby if she isn’t worried about making it before high tide at 3:30. “3:30?”, she replies quizzically. I’m pretty sure it’s 4:30.” With that, she grabs a print out of the tide report and confirms it’s 4:30.
“Well,” I say. “That’s good. I thought it was 3:30, hence why I caught up with you guys.” She laughs, but it’s only a minute or so before I ask about the others. “So, uh, do you think the rest of them are going to make this tide crossing” John says he thinks everyone will make it but I’m not so sure. I haven’t seen them for hours and I feel the gap between us only could have grown. Also, I think of the information we received last night, that someone died hiking the Lost Coast Trail last week after being swept into the ocean. Not even just this trail, this exact section of trail that we are trying to make right next to Black Sands Beach. I hope our groups plays it safe if push comes to shove.
It’s a long 5 miles to the ending point of the day, mile 26, and I crash hard from the adrenaline that was coursing through my body when I thought the tide crossing was in question. Aurora, a recently graduated 8th grader who is Abram’s daughter and joining us for the trip, greets me on the sand just before the Black Sands Beach Parking Lot. She tells me there is drinks, food, and the van waiting just ahead.
In the parking lot, I grab an ice cold fizzy flavored water and handfuls of sweet potatoes chips, fresh fruit, and other snacks. The mood of the group is somewhere between excited with finishing our first and worried about the others. We try to piece together who we have last seen and Abram uses his pair of binoculars to scan down the beach for any other runners coming in. Eventually, two more in our group are spotted, Lisa and Aku. As tension grows, Abram announces he has received a notification from another runner on his satellite phone that the remaining 6 runners did not make the tide crossing. They are looking at hiking out of an alternative route that is 5 miles, 4,000 feet of elevation of gain and may be a severely overgrown. But the good news is that everyone has been accounted for.
Day 2, 6/10: 9 Miles, Chemise Mountain Trailhead to Needle Rock Campground
Morning breakfast is filled with news of last night’s drama. It turns out the 6 runners who didn’t make the tide crossing chose not to hike out and rather ended up waiting it out on the beach until midnight, which is when the tides become low and passable again. This put them back into camp around 3:30 am. Somewhat heroically, they all plan to run today. There are two options for today, a 9 mile or 20 mile option. The 20 mile option is essentially as Abram puts it a “way to get extra miles” and not part of the official Lost Coast Trail. No one choses the 20 mile option, it’s 9 miles for all of us.
I start off in a group of 6 runners, with an additional 2 “sweepers” who will be making sure no on gets left behind. Hey, it worked yesterday. It’s beautiful shaded redwoods and an actual trail that weaves in and out of the forest. There’s no more sand or beach running for the remainder of the trip, thank God. We are making good time and knock off the first 5 miles in just a little over an hour. The only problem is my knee is officially becoming an issue. It feels like there is a lack of cartilage in the knee and the bones are just grinding against each other. I do some stretches that give me temporary relief, but after 5 minutes of running the pain comes back.
We make our way down to a creek, marking the 6 mile point of the day. John is descending a steep part of the trail until all of the sudden he’s sliding down the side of the switchback. He comes to a stop a few seconds later. “You good?” I yell.
After a moment of silence, I hear John reply, “Ya. Watch out there, it’s slippery.”
I let John, Carol, Holly, and Gabby run ahead and take a small lunch break at the creek. I soak my legs in the cold water and pull out my little plastic container of dehydrated food. It’s really bringing me back backpacking adventures- stopping at water crossings, soaking my feet, and constantly being in movement.
Eventually, I link up with Lauren and we leave the creek and finish the last 3 miles together. It’s beautiful with wildflowers and expansive views of the ocean. It’s also very unmaintained, with stinging nettle and poison oak growing over the trail. Lauren is telling me about stinging nettle and is showing me a huge reaction that’s happening on her arm. Right after I express my sympathy, I start to feel my legs burning. It’s painful at first but subsides to a mild burn after a few minute. I think of how different the coast is in comparison to the mountains. Sure, the mountains can be hell at times with unexpected weather and monstrous passes. But I find the Coast to just be so…. rugged. Often steep with overgrowing hostile vegetation on the trail, I rarely seem to find that type of flowy trail that presents itself in the mountains.
It’s an early finish for the day as at 1:30 p.m., Lauren and I reach Needle Rock campground. Abram is waiting for us and after giving us high-fives, offers cold drinks to be found in the cooler. I look around at our campsite for the night which is absolutely superb. Our campsite sits on a bluff that has an expansive and unhindered view of the Pacific Ocean.
After a short nap in my tent, I have a little time before dinner and I meander over to the Visitor’s Center. I sit on the porch of the Visitors Center a bit, just looking out at the ocean. Eventually the door opens and I get up to say hello, but an elderly man named Greg, who is wearing a CA State Park Volunteer vest gestures me back down, “Sit, sit. That’s what the chair is here for.” After I sit down, he immediately hands me two books which talk about the history of Needle Rock (our current location) and Bear Harbor (where we will be running through tomorrow). In the late 1800s-early 1900s, these two cities served as coastal towns to receive timber via railroad from inland areas in Northern CA, and would then ship the timber out to the Bay Area or further.
After I read for 15 minutes or so, I go inside to talk more to Greg and he tells me how he stays out here for a month out of the calendar year as a volunteer. To repeat, the scenery is stunning and I can’t help but think that’s it a great way to vacation for free, by doing a small amount of work. “I don’t imagine it gets too busy out here?” I venture. He shakes his head. “It’s a brutal drive in. Get some backpackers on the Lost Coast Trail like yourselves, but overall it stays pretty quite.”
Out of nowhere, he asks if I wouldn’t mind if he put on the Warriors vs Celtics NBA Finals game on his portable radio. I feel like I am in heaven when I hear that question, as I love basketball and am dying to know how the series is going, having been out of service for the past 3 days. He tells me the Celtics took Game 3, giving them a 2-1 lead, and are in a close Game 4 right now. We listen together for a bit before I reluctantly get up to leave and head back to camp for the dinner that has started without me.
Day 3, 6/11: 20 Miles, Needle Rock Campground to Usal Beach
I wake up at 2 am to find a puddle of water beginning to engulf my sleeping bag. After a minute of investigation, I realize my 1.5L hydration bladder has completely emptied itself in my tent. Not ideal.
Despite not a very good night of sleep, I wake up to my 5:30 am alarm amped and ready to roll. There’s definetly a part of me that remembers my attempted SOBO PCT thru-hike from last summer. I started in late June and ended up doing about 2/5 of the trail (1,100 miles) and jumped off in early September when the NFS service closed National Forests for two weeks due to fires. Now in reflection, it was definetly the right decision for me to leave the trail. And yet, a little nagging voice tells me I didn’t set out to do what I intended, I haven’t actually completed a thru-hike of any trail. So sure, the Lost Coast is only 55 miles, but to actually thru-hike it would be extra special to me. To add a little drama, my knee was in pretty serious condition by the end of the run yesterday. I spent a long time last night doing deep tissue work with a massage ball, foam roller, and TheraGun to try to get me right for today. It feels fine as I walk on it in the morning but realistically I don’t think that’s going to hold for the whole 20 mile run that we have planned today.
There are 9 runners total that start out in the morning. The other 6 have elected to not run today, and will ride in the van with Abram to meet us at our final destination in Usal Beach. Probably not coincidentally, almost all of the 6 were part of the 4 am morning crew from the first day.
The beginning of the day is beautiful. The weather is cool and we travel on well maintained single-trek trail through dewy forest. The miles feel effortless here in the beginning as I pass time by having extensive conversations with our “sweeper” for today, Mark. Mark works at a newspaper in a big city and I pick his brain about writing, how people receive information, and digital versus printed media.
As all good things eventually come to an end, the trail starts becoming unmaintained and my knee begins to hurt. After a long climb, we begin to descend and our big group of 9 breaks into two smaller groups of 5 and 4. Even within our small groups we begin to spread out a bit, and as I’m pounding a descent, I come to a sudden stop as something very large and furry right in front of me begins to move. It’s a male elk with enormous antlers and it’s sitting right in the middle of the trail. I step back a bit and try to badger it to move by signaling and yelling mildly (honestly I just don’t want it to charge) but it just stares off in the distance, giving me the occasional glance. Finally, Lauren, Mark and Lisa come running in, voices loud. The combination of the voices and footsteps seems to startle the elk and it scampers off the trail by 15 yards. I thank the three of them and we continue on the trail.
The four of us take a much need 15 minute lunch break at a creek, the first water we have seen since starting out in the morning. With reluctance, we leave the creek and head back out for the remaining 8 miles. I think we are all going to be happy to get to the finish line, but in the mean time the overgrown trail continues to lend itself to some of the best views of the coast I have ever seen. I feel a mixture of exhaustion from the running and heat, but at the same time a feeling of purpose for being so close to completion and joy to be traveling in a group.
Eventually, we reach a point in the trail where we need to make a decision. Abram warned us yesterday that the last 2 miles into our final destination, Usal Beach, have historically been some of the worse and most overgrown trail of the whole trip. Alternatively, he advised we take a turnoff to a jeep road, which would add an extra mile but make for smooth travel. We debate our options a bit, Lauren seems to want to stick to the traditional trail while Mark advises jeep roads. In the end the jeep road option wins out, as Abram doesn’t seem like a guy who would give such a warning about bad trail lightly.
My knee is in full blown crisis at this point and I’m limping badly as I shuffle down the jeep roads. Very graciously, Mark gives me his trekking poles so I can shift some of the weight from my lower body to upper body. It sucks being injured but the good news is I feel pretty certain of what’s going (IT Band) and how to rehab it once I’m done with the trail.
At last, we make it to our final destination at Usal Beach and meet up with the remainder of our group. High-fives and congratulations are exchanged, and we all feel pretty electric at having finished the trail. But also tired and ready for rest and food. I muse on the fact that those things are taken care for us runners, with delicious meals having been cooked all trip and our bigger belongings being moved and hauled in the car. Sure enough, that night we celebrate with tacos and margaritas, and I fall asleep warm in tent as the faint sound of rain begins to fall on my tent.
