Most of the route was considerably more scenic, along the ridge of the Santa Cruz Mountains on Skyline (aka Highway 35) north into the redwoods. Idyllic, if it weren't for the racing motorcyclists and sports car enthusiasts that know enforcement is rare. It seems the authorities would rather just pick up the pieces. Yeeerrrooommm . . . Ferrari. Draft that!
A year ago, I rode up here on a rainy day, pointing my bike through the tire tracks in the slippery residue of mudslides. It was warm enough today for a few butterflies to venture out. On a clear day, the Pacific glistens to the west and the valley shimmers to the east, all the way to Mt. Diablo rising above the haze.
The wheels on the bike go round and round, round and round. The next thing you know, you've traveled 78 miles and climbed 5,965 feet. When some friends looked at my weekend ride calendar, they said:
You're going to do a 97-mile ride?!Back in civilization (central Woodside), a thoughtful motorcyclist pulled alongside as we proceeded through the intersection. Despite his Michigan license plate, he was eminently qualified to educate me on some finer point of the California motor vehicle code. Muffled by his helmet all I could make out was " ... RIGHT ... TRAFFIC LAWS ..." Perhaps he took umbrage when I rolled up to the stop sign in the bike lane, passing him on the right? He and his buddy were riding two abreast, which is mighty controversial behavior for bicyclists, by the way - but legal for motorcyclists? Hmm, that's worth researching.
No, no, of course not. I'm just doing part of it.
He must have been one of those guys I saw traveling at the speed limit up on Skyline today. Oh, wait, I remember. I didn't see any of those.
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