Shahi Paneer Leads to Trail Running Revelation - Huh?

I have to buy my friends.  At least this appears to be the case.  I mean, half a school year of “any Tuesday or Thursday, let’s go for a run/paddle/whatever – just say when” has only budged two “friends” a total of three times.  Pretty telling, I think.  Last week, though, I tried out a new approach, my neighbor Tracy becoming my first test subject.  Knowing that she enjoys cooking and that she likes, if not loves Indian food, including a paneer dish I had made for our families at a holiday get-together, I gave her a packet of the spice kit I had used.  Then I baited her big time:  Come over to my house, I’ll show you how to make paneer (the cheese used in the recipe) and, while it’s cooling, we can go for a run around the Totally Unnecessary Trail.   

Making paneer is really quite simple, the one catch is concocting some sort of press to bind the curds that form from adding an acid to the heated milk.   This is my ace in the hole as Tracy doesn’t have a press:  if she wants paneer, she has to play with me.  

My cheese press is a mix of river guide technology, back East food tastes and Rona Hardware plumbing supplies.

The shahi paneer must have been really good that night (I have to admit, using the Fusion Spice kit felt like cheating) because a few days after having made the offer, Tracy succumbs.  Note to self:  Tracy = homemade Indian food.

I owe my first trail run with Tracy to Fusion!

Thursday morning after dropping the kids off at school, she knocks on the door dressed in her running attire ready to get to work.  I pour a gallon of milk into the pot and our paneer making is underway.  Then the moment comes, the milk reaches the magical temperature of 85 C, we add lemon juice, place the curdling milk in the refrigerator, and head up Oceanview Road for our run as the mixture cools.

The first stretch of the approximately 8 km/5 mile Totally Unnecessary Trail follows the Unnecessary Mountain Trail – they are one and the same – and is uphill.  More accurately, it’s up the western flank of the Coast Mountain Range.  If this sounds cool, it’s because it is.  The mountainside’s toll can be measured by the slowly diminishing conversation that takes place over the first 20 or so minutes.  We start out chatting away as Tracy’s dog, Scout, lopes easily ahead.  “Here’s a particularly sketchy bit,” I call to Tracy as we approach a vertical ledge, but later on for something equally sketchy, it’s reduced to, “This is [breath breath]sketchy!” or simply, “Sketchy!”  Ever the guide, though – Larissa rightly explains I love being in guide mode – I literally stop to share a story about the burnt out shell of a tree, stopping being something I never do on my own.  To me, the Totally Unnecessary Trail is just as much about the people who built it as it is the beautiful forest it travels through; their stories need to be told.  If it requires stopping, I’ll stop!

Keaton and Elena humoring me for a photo last summer.

And the forest is beautiful.  I look back in Tracy’s direction to see her surrounded in the massive trees and exclaim rhetorically, “Isn’t this beautiful?!”  This setting is something I’ve experienced dozens of times now and I’m still incredulous.  The day is overcast, but even on the sunniest of days, this part of the trail is always in cool, deep shadows beneath the dense canopy high overhead.

At around 2,000 feet, the top part of the Totally Unnecessary Trail branches off from the Unnecessary Mountain Trail, the entrance purposely obscured so only the people who know about the trail will be on it.  “There’s only one more stretch of uphill before we reach the highest point on the trail,” I encourage her.  And then that’s reached, I give a bit of a cheer, and we’re officially able to enjoy what I call The Traverse.

 The Traverse is a narrow track that undulates a bit as the trail slides south along the contours of the mountain.  It’s not long – we’re just about to a mini-sketchy ledge we have to descend – when Tracy exclaims, “I love this trail!”  We’ve worked our tails off to get pretty damn high and now we’re able to enjoy the fruits of our labor (at least until we get to the bottom of Lone Tree Creek!)  From solely a running perspective, this is an aspect about trail running in a mountainous environment that I love:  I’ve just gone from running as slow as I’ve ever run – the uphill bit – while all my vitals were about maxed out, to going about as fast as the trail dictates I can go and I’m back in full breath and my heart rate has markedly decreased.  When the trail opens up, so will I so that on those few, short sections, I’m nearly at a full sprint.  It can be the epitome of interval running.  The only times I’d change my pace on a road run would be exactly for doing interval running; here it happens naturally. 

I’m thrilled Tracy’s having fun – when we share things we love, it’s some darn good feedback.  We’re able to talk again, we cross creeks, we squeeze between trees, vault over/slip under – depends on one’s height! – a downed tree, traverse some scree slopes – I even make Tracy stop for a picture.  I have many favorite sections of trail and The Traverse is one of them.

This time, it's Tracy's turn to humor me.

In another twenty-plus minutes, we’re at the edge of the final scree slope and about to descend.  I have to interrupt our conversation to warn, “Take this at whatever speed you’re comfortable – it’s pretty sketchy.” – sketchy apparently my word du jour.  The descent consists of several short switchbacks where the scree has been picked over to create the semblance of a trail.  The loosest rocks have been removed, but here “loose” is a relative term.  Very relative.  When you’re running down it, there isn’t much that feels stable.  I rely on quickness to get through it, never spending too long on any one rock.  The descent only brings us part-way down, depositing us onto a plateau where the remains of an old forestry road can be seen. 

The plateau is another favorite section.  Every shade of green imaginable is contained in the different mosses and needles in the forest here as the path wends its way among the conifers.  Just before we come onto it, I make Tracy go ahead so she can appreciate it without an obstructed view.   As we emerge, I repeat, “Isn’t it beautiful?!” only this time screaming it.  Of course, Tracy agrees.  She’s scared not to!  She weaves her way through the trees until the trail begins to go down again, deferring the lead of the short downhill section to me.  It’s another few, quick switchbacks then a steady downhill bit – it’s actually somewhat straight.  “There’s a sort of fun side-step move coming up.  We’ll come over a rise and you’re going to have to step over a log to your right,” I explain.  It’s one of many fun moves since quick footwork is rewarded with a smooth transition from going forward to going sideways to going forward again.  A short distance beyond this, I lead Tracy to an overlook where the hiking faction typically stops to eat their lunches.  While we appreciate everything we see, the stop is brief and we’re back on a lower section of the plateau, the trail again wending its way on soft track among greens of every shade.

Kona has to take his turn, too.  This was in November.

The plateau is disappointingly short; its beauty alone makes me wish it went on for miles and miles.  In fact, the nature of the Totally Unnecessary Trail is constantly changing.  All too soon, we’re on a rough descent down into Lone Tree Creek, the longest descent on the trail and the most technical section of a rather technical trail.  “Go down at whatever speed you feel comfortable,” I warn again, adding, “it’s a long way out with a twisted ankle.”  Tracy works her way down as we negotiate numerous obstacles including a mini-creek that’s formed on account of recent rains; a blind, hairpin turn with a rather precipitous drop awaiting anyone who doesn’t zag right; a log bridge with a chicken wire tread nailed to it – Scout doesn’t like this; and a massive log angled down over the trail with a notch for a foothold carved into it and a bright, yellow rope nailed in for grip – Scout doesn’t like this log, either.  My dog, Kona, almost slid down this and into the ravine below while on a run several months ago; I was just able to grab him as his back feet lost their purchase.  Scout has good reason to be hesitant.  Further down brings us to The Grotto and all its wetness and slippery rocks.  And before we know it, we’re on the modest bridge spanning Lone Tree Creek, the creek we’ve been listening to for at least the last five minutes.  Again, we pause to revel in the beauty.

Lone Tree Creek as seen from the bridge on the lower section of trail.

The remainder of the run is comprised of climbing out of Lone Tree Creek and then a longer section of relatively gentle trail until we’re back onto the Unnecessary Mountain Trail and heading down.  At one point on this route  – it’s after High Point, the top part of the lower trail before it goes down into the defile that is Lone Tree Creek – I look back in Tracy’s direction.  The trail, rocky in this section, clings to the forested hillside.  Tracy silently, deftly descends this twisted track, seemingly lost in concentrating on the moment in front of her.  She’s part of the trail.  My mind flashes to images I’ve seen on the Internet and magazines of people running in stunning environments, images that have inspired me to trail run.  It’s such a simple beauty, trail running, a simple, but overwhelming beauty.  For the first time I realize, when we run these trails, we are this beauty.

*     *     *

I find tremendous enjoyment in sharing things I love.  Being able to go for a run with someone else is special enough.  That today it was on the Totally Unnecessary Trail - and Tracy’s first time on it, to boot – makes it even more special.  I felt this way back in the summer when Larissa, the kids and I made our way around it with our local hiking group, I felt this way when I brought another friend for her first time on the trail this fall (also as a run), and I imagine I’ll get to feel this way a bunch more times as I convince other people to join me for a run around the trail.  I’ll just have to figure out the “angle” for each of them!

 Monday, January 13 Update:

Not only did Tracy get in a spectacular run, her paneer turned out wonderfully:

This is a glowing testimonial if ever there was one!