Independence Day

The morning began celebrating our national holiday with like-minded folks (cyclists, of course) at our club's traditional pancake breakfast. Having learned the hard way last year, I set out earlier to be sure the tables and chairs hadn't already been taken down when I arrived. I'm happy to do my part with that chore, but not when the tear-down starts a full hour before the post-breakfast rides begin.

It wasn't much different this year, with chairs being folded and stacked while people stood patiently in line at the griddle.

My ride buddy and I parted ways at Montebello, which she was determined to climb; I was more keen on the shade of Stevens Canyon and a shorter outing: 38 miles with a manageable 1,765 feet of climbing.

Our route passes the Sunnyvale Rod and Gun Club's property, where members were evidently celebrating their right to bear arms (with like-minded folks). The sound was a prelude to the illegal fireworks that will erupt later tonight.

There were lots of families picnicking in the parks, kids splashing in the creek.

All the bridges on the upper portion of Stevens Canyon Road have been replaced. Not only are the old wooden crossings gone, the new editions seem more deluxe than needed for this secluded dead-end road. The homeowners have some clout, perhaps.

They certainly put out the unwelcome mat: There is no shortage of “No Trespassing” and “Private Road” signs along the way. Or one, simply stated: “Go Away.”

Rather a sharp contrast to the impromptu hospitality of the homeowner in Scotland, a few weeks ago, who invited our entire group into his home to use the bathroom.

Happy Independence Day.