Calaveras Cognoscenti

As we approached the turn to climb "the wall," not one (but two) cars made a U-turn and headed back toward Milpitas. At that moment, I knew that today's trip along Calaveras Road would be one to remember.

Big orange signs warn that the road is closed at the county line. And that is true ... on weekdays. The Powers-That-Be appreciate the popularity of this route for cyclists, and they kindly sweep the construction zone and re-open it every weekend. Spelling out such details on a sign could get, well, complicated. Let's just say that the drivers who turn back are exactly the type of driver with whom we would rather not share this road.

Earlier in the week, my ride partner suggested that we lead an "impromptu" ride today, and we tossed out an announcement on the club's email list. We knew that two other riders planned to join us, and expected a small group. (Surprise! Twenty-one!)

The reservoir shimmered under a vivid blue sky. With the late spring rains, the hills are still emerald green and the wildflowers still in bloom. With the passing of each dry day, the colors will fade; today we would enjoy this valley at its peak.

We invaded downtown Pleasanton for lunch, fanning out to explore the Farmers' Market and blending into the crowd on the plaza. On this day, not a single rider regretted that we would make a U-turn of our own to return on Calaveras.

I dawdled so far behind the group that it seemed I could not catch them, slow climber that I am. A photographer with a very long lens was set up to view the bald eagles' nest; I stopped to peer through his viewfinder. At the base of "the wall," a motorcyclist hesitated; I did not. By the time he chose to turn right, I had enough of a lead to keep him at a distance. Then, one by one, I rocketed past the rest of our group and led the way back to the start.

Smiling, one guy remarked: "I think I know which part of the ride was your favorite! I couldn't catch you. I tried."

One mph over the limit is all it takes to make the electronic sign flash at the base of the hill. Good to know.