Originally posted on August 13, 2014, by cruisingrunner
Since we’ve traveled all the way down to 18 deg S latitude, it seems to be much cooler here in Tonga. When the sun is out it’s quite warm, but the breeze is cool, and when the sun hides behind a cloud it sometimes feels downright cold. Currently, it is almost 2:00 in the afternoon and the outside temperature is 24 deg C (approximately 75 deg F for my American friends). This makes for spectacular running weather. Of all the places we’ve been, this reminds me most of weather at home. Not too hot, not too cold.
We are in the northern island group of Tonga, called Vava’u, and I’ve had the chance so far to both run on the roads around the main town of Neiafu and to run on a trail at the head of one of the many scattered anchorages in the vicinity. They’ve been very different runs, but one common thread that I am enjoying is the rolling landscape. I’m not saying I’m running strenuous hills or anything, but there’s enough up and down gentle elevation change to get the heart rate up just a little and to give the run that much more depth.
This morning I paddled to shore near high tide at the head of an anchorage called Port Maurelle. It is named after the Spanish navigator who was the first European to make landfall in Vava’u, and according to my guidebook, he didn’t stay long due to theft and vandalism by the natives. I suppose that’s just one side of the story. The Tongan name for the anchorage is Fangakima, and I don’t know what that means. The anchorage is stunning with high and thickly wooded bluffs on either side. There is a coral and white sand beach at the head of the cove, and our first evening we enjoyed our “safe arrival cocktails” on the beach until the mosquitoes chased us away. Behind the beach is a trail leading in both directions, and it is on this trail that I headed out on this morning, in my new bright pink running shoes, I might add. The run was going along nicely, even if the terrain was a bit lumpy and muddy, until I ran through about 3 consecutive spider webs. They were spun across the trail and near impossible to see until they’re in your mouth or eyes or caught in your hair. A little further up the trail I caught a glimpse of a web high above the trail with a spider in it about half the size of my hand, and it had a catch in its web that was large enough that it could have been a small bird. At this point I’m reliving in my mind the other webs I ran through and kept wondering what size spider might have fallen on me when I inadvertently destroyed its dwelling as I passed. In my initial freak out reaction, I frantically brushed at my hair to get rid of what clearly wasn’t even there, but in the process, I loosened up some strands of hair and the wisps kept brushing my face making me think spider all over again. I couldn’t take it anymore. My Zen like running experience was anything but, so I headed back to where the trail runs just behind the beach and did quarter mile laps in the area I knew I had already cleared of spiders. It was flat terrain, so I didn’t get any more of the gently rolling hill action I spoke of above, but at least it was spider free.
-D.
Gresham Family Exodus 