Freeway Freewheeling

How many more surprises are tucked away in Golden Gate Park? I have seen the bison. Windmills? In 1902 they had the good sense to take advantage of the wind to pump water for the park. Later, they adopted a more modern solution (electric pumps). Perhaps they should reconsider?

Our club runs an annual week-long tour, Sierra to the Sea, which finishes in the park. Three of my friends (and fellow European travelers) were riding in the tour this year, so I joined a small group for the trek to San Francisco to surprise them.

About one-fourth of the freeway miles in California are bicycle-legal. For example, we are granted access for a short distance on Interstate 280 in Millbrae (between two exits), as there is no alternate route through that area. [Technically, I see a detour through the local neighborhood that looks eminently reasonable. Next time ...]

As they fly past at 65+ mph, what do the motorists think of us? Most probably imagine that we are confused, at best; flagrantly disobedient, at worst. Sharing the on- and off-ramps with accelerating vehicles provided the most stressful moments, but in general the freeway is not a place for novices or Nervous Nellies.

Things get tricky for cyclists again around Daly City, where our route on Highway 35 (aka Skyline Blvd) intersects Highway 1 and you must merge left across the multiple lanes that feed onto Highway 1. Wherever you see a “Freeway Begins” sign, look for the accompanying “Prohibited” sign to confirm that bicycles are not listed.

My friends were suitably surprised to see me, and joked that our European visitor was looking for more climbing and should ride back with me. Common sense prevailed, however, and I set out on a solo return trip. At a busy intersection, barriers blocked the route forward on the Great Highway; all vehicles were forced to head east. There were no signs posted. I biked on through, and quickly encountered the deep sand that had drifted across the roadway. After walking that stretch, I had the rest of the Great Highway (and its glorious view!) to myself.

For the day, 64 miles with some 3,845 feet of climbing. Good thing I chose not to follow my “Plan B” for the return trip (via Caltrain); a fire near the tracks had shut down service for much of the afternoon.