Beach Shorts: Stories of the Beach Trail as A Bastion of SC

The Beach Trail : My introduction to and subsequent love affair with the San Clemente Beach Trail started on the back of a dog named Butch, a Boxer mix who looks more like a pit bull.

He was wearing a yellow "adopt me" cape. Because of my then-story about dog rescue, I was brought into conversation with Trevor, the human charged with getting Butch's feet off a cement kennel. We were on the patio of the North Beach's Kaylani Coffeehouse. A retired and obsessive Trevor is fighting for Butch to find a loving home, and was harnessing the trail like a match.com for a possible suitor. While whiling away the time with our coffee, Trevor pointed over his shoulder and said, "You should do your next story about the trail," and proceeded to invite me to walk the trail with him and Butch sometime.

So we did. Our trail walk also began with the lovely coffee on Kaylani's patio. We paused at the trail's entrance, enabling me to notice the slate walls and engraved signs. Trevor allowed me time if I wanted to get out my notepad. The ocean breeze welcomed and we went strolling along, Butch's paws touching the wonderful decomposed granite floor.

We giggled as we tested out the saying-hello-to-people theory. There are many great trails in the world -- and the San Clemente Beach Trail, as I soon found out, could easily be named after the late Stephanie Dorey. She was not a passive person; in fact, she was a housewife elected to be the mayor of San Clemente on guts alone. Evidently she loved the beach like a mother. She watched out for pollution, and calmly grounded beached smokers.

But mostly, she saved San Clemente's beloved beach trail from the jaws and pens of some same-old city plans. With three thousand front yards stuck with the Stephanie Dorey-coined "Derail the Trail" home-made signs, and the historic ocean-front activist meeting inside the Dorey's chambers, they killed the city government's ideal "path" – a black pavement trail with a painted line down the middle and a kennel-looking chain link fence to embroider the railroad track.

Then a scheme to double up the railroad line was stopped in its tracks by the newly scary, "Derail the Rail." San Clemente's numerous activists had to mess with all kinds of Boards, Utilities, and railroaders.

And so the Beach Trail was born. Besides my addictive time spent with Trevor and Butch, walking, hanging out at the Pier, breakfast, or just coffee at The Garden Beach Cafe (across from the pier), I had the best time sitting down with Stephanie's widower John Dorey, overlooking the beach and trail during a glorious morning.

"I love the trail," John said, as I watched him truly enjoy the folks on the trail. He pointed at an older gentleman and dog, saying, "That guy, right there, couldn't be there right now (if not for the trail). Sure, there are a few oops (dog poo), but they are few and far between. This is a healthier town (because of the trail)."

It's amazing how something inanimate could affect a community. A mother and daughter walking side by side, an 89-year-old Chuck's ability to provide positive vibes to the Junior Lifeguards. A chance to meet and greet the fitness-adorned housewives A trail's flatness and smooth ground inspiring a jogger to make it to the end...

It is the San Clemente Watershed Task Force (949-366-2366) that has taken the baton from Mrs Dorey, and they're looking for someone to adopt a beach and give it love and keep it clean and safe.

It's the determined people that make a difference. I took a break on the trail's Stephanie Dorey memorial bench (it has a great view). The bench's tile art was done by Kathryn Stovall Dennis (her best friend).

The inscription says, "May her memory inspire future generations and preserve our coastal heritage."

I still stay in touch with Trevor and Butch, and if anyone would like to adopt a great dog you can call Trevor at: 949-395-6599 Thank you, San Clemente, for being you.