Panoche Pictorial

Our club heads for the Panoche Valley twice a year, spring and fall.
I was disappointed to miss the last outing.

After struggling last weekend, I thought I might not be ready for such a long ride. It is an out-and-back route; I could always turn around. But I knew that if I drove down there, I would want to finish.

I hatched a plan, and the plan was this: bike to (and from) work this week. Not just once, but twice. If I could pull off two 40-mile days in one week, maybe, just maybe, I could make it to the Inn and back.

The bookshelf at Starbuck's in Hollister included a volume on C programming [this is not Silicon Valley]. A local was curious about my ride plan, and yet not familiar with Panoche Road. [You need to get out more, I thought.]

The fog touched down to ground level in Hollister; droplets condensed on my car. The fog zone ended abruptly a couple of miles from our starting point in Paicines, taking with it my regrets about leaving a jacket at home. It would be a hot day, and I quickly realized I could leave my vest in the car.

What better way to spend a few hours, than this? Mostly alone on a winding, little-traveled road. I could imagine that I was seeing much of the same landscape that settlers saw when they first traversed this pass on horseback.

I paused after a challenging pitch to admire the scenery; it was so quiet that I could hear my blood pulsing with each rapid heartbeat.

The road surface is in rough condition at its easternmost end. This is a good place to work on supporting yourself with your core muscles; if you keep a tight grip on the handlebars, the bone-rattling vibrations will make your head ache.

The Inn is up for sale; the proprietors are ready for a break.

The solar farm will taint the valley with industrial blight next year. This breaks my heart.

One of our co-leaders joked that we do this ride for the headwind—in both directions. It was a relief from the heat, but ... I had to pedal downhill.

Fifty-five miles of wondrous beauty and peaceful solitude, with a mere 2700 feet of climbing.