Just Peachy

A spring getaway? Why not venture out and see more of my home state?

My curiosity was piqued when some club members proposed a set of rides in the Paso Robles area.

The plan was to drive down early enough to start our first excursion around 11:30 a.m. I thought a poor night's sleep spelled doom for my first ride, but I made it. With time to spare.

When you walk into a hotel lobby and pass two bike boxes waiting for FedEx to pick up, you know you're in friendly territory.

Did the gloomy gray cloud-filled sky also spell doom? It was chilly, but dry ... until nearly the end of the ride. Was that, or was that not, a raindrop?
Perhaps. Perhaps not. Blue skies opened up only after we all arrived back at the hotel.

Somehow I rode off the front today, instead of the back. This group was riding at a slower-than-advertised pace. (Which is fine.) The strongest rider got a late start, appeared out of nowhere to catch me, and then sociably kept me company.

This is Central Coast wine country; lots of vines staked on the hillsides, fewer wildflowers than I'd hoped. We cruised through the oak woodland, where I noticed two distinct types (and probably failed to notice more, this being the “Pass of the Oaks”). And the understory of poison oak doesn't count.

When the tracks of more bicycle than vehicle tires streak the pavement, you know you're in friendly territory. But when you pass “Hanging Tree Road” you can't help but wonder at the story behind that name.

Peachy Canyon was the highlight of today's 33 miles and 2,330 feet of climbing.

With modestly sore muscles, I'm hoping for better night's sleep.