Trifecta

If you love your dog, I implore you: put a tag on your pet's collar—stamped with your phone number.

Somewhere above Holy City, a German Shepherd materialized. We were climbing; she was faster. Luckily, she was not aggressive. She seemed to want to play with us, running alongside our bikes and stopping to pick up a stick as a hint.

I have been meaning to tuck some rope into my saddle bag ... The dog had a collar, but there were no jingling tags. She stopped following—perhaps she knew her territory? The best I could do was to report a lost German Shepherd when I found a county worker in his truck at the Summit Store.

The other key item missing from my kit today was a vest. The Santa Cruz Mountains were draped in fog, and we were heading for the coast. I should always carry a vest in my bag of cycling gear. I know this. The redwoods rained on us near the summit, but it was not as cold as I feared.

What a merry band of riders we were! Plenty of conversation, plenty of lingering at each re-group, and plenty of patience when we found our lunch stop overwhelmed with an at-capacity crowd.

For one of the riders in our group, three of the four hills we tackled were terra incognita. The best, of course, comes last: the soul-crushing ascent of Mountain Charlie Road. That photo at the top was taken looking back at a section I had just climbed. No, that is not a dead-end road—it drops off that steeply. Fifty-one miles, with some 4,615 feet of climbing (same route we traced in 2009).

Whose idea was it to climb Mountain Charlie today?

[Oh, wait, it was my idea.]

But look at who was waiting for me at the top! Three fine, friendly firemen!

You chose the wrong ride today, Miss C.