A neighborhood sanctuary

I get stomped on by hundreds of feet, wheels and hooves each day.

The dust settles as I provide a foundation for the fitness

enthusiasts, those that want a quiet place to reflect on life’s

subtleties and get away from the bustle for a moment, if not more.

I am the Back Bay trail of the Upper Newport Bay Nature and

Ecological Preserve, encompassing 1,000 acres of open space.

Slithering on the crests of hills and the sands below, people -- or

animals -- take a fresh breath as they pound, roll or gallop on me.

A mother and daughter from Newport Beach walk here each day, for

exercise and a respite from the grind life can all too often bring.

Wednesday they were pushing a stroller, calmly stepping along the

portion above the Peter and Mary Muth Interpretive Center, a slight

breeze shooting through the retreating morning clouds that subtly

muffled the July sun.

Horses know the gravel I possess, even though the city of Newport

Beach doesn’t seem to heavily promote trail riding.

A woman who lives two blocks away pushes the stroller that carries

her 14-month old grandson, munching on a handful of Cheerios. She

stops on me, pausing to glance at the cliffs encircling the mouth of

the estuary.

I meander through the sage, which eschews a scent as refreshing as

pine on a clear mountain day.

Bikers roll along my dirt -- and paved -- paths. Some come from

Irvine, where a 63-year-old begins his quest. I am a transition and

an end, providing a goal to be reached and giving someone a chance to

exercise and drop by his sister’s house for a brief break.

I am the Back Bay trail.

Roller bladers glide along my smooth asphalt trails alongside

joggers, whose sweat droplets fall onto my arteries, where they

quickly evaporate under the intense sun.

“Crunch, crunch, crunch.”

That’s the sound I make when feet “plop” along by sandy soil.

Gordie Fitzel took his Orange Coast College cross country team to

train every morning on me.

I give them a challenge with my little hills, sharp turns and

steep climbs.

They sweat even more, but still come back.

I provide a pedestal to the views the first Native Americans

encountered when they strode upon me nearly 1,000 years ago.

The views, oh, the views.

Looking down on the salt water from Newport Harbor, which mixes

with freshwater from inland sources, gently clears a squiggly path

among the emerald-green grasses below.

The fog lifts and the sun sends a glow that bounces off the water.

It is three-and-a-half miles from the upper to lower reaches of

the Bay.

I meander below the cliffs and on top of the bluffs, always

turning, always waiting.

Waiting for the next walker or jogger or bicyclist.

From where?

People come from Irvine, Santa Ana, Laguna Beach, Costa Mesa and

Newport Beach, as well.

A man moved from Houston just a week ago and has seen my good

graces three times already.

“The trails, the scenery are unmatched anywhere,” he said.

Exactly the reason I’ve taken up space here and don’t plan on

leaving anytime soon.