Bitney Springs

In Nevada City, we were staying in cottages that are part of a vintage motor lodge (dating back to 1933). The place is quaint and funky; my mom would have loved the birdhouses adorning the cottage across the garden from mine.

We chatted with a local cyclist a few blocks into our ride. “Oh, that will be hot—I wouldn't do that climb today.” I wished we'd gotten an earlier start.

I missed viewing a dramatic bridge over the Yuba River. I was focused on the unpredictable traffic and parked cars, and when I saw a climb on the other side (after a nice long downhill), I just wanted to keep moving. The day was warming quickly. Drivers were more foolish around here, crossing the double yellow line to pass slower cars. Passengers were foolish, too; I did a double-take when I realized the shaggy head hanging outside a Jeep was attached to a human, not a dog.

I didn't miss the historic covered bridge, later, though it's fenced off. The best view was from the road outside the park. I was already suffering in the heat; I saturated my arm coolers with cold water, which helped for a time. We would be mostly climbing for the next 13 miles, so I preferred not to check out the local history displays in the barn. The day would only get hotter.

The heat was taking its toll on me. At first, I stopped every mile. Later, every tenth of a mile. Finally, I made it from one tiny patch of shade to the next. I dismounted and walked the final, exposed pitch to the top. It wasn't steep, but my engine was just plain overheated. The cattle lolling in the shade had more sense than we did.

The reward for climbing Bitney Springs Road was not the view; it was the eponymous water at the bottom. Despite the county's official warning sign, a steady stream of people with empty containers pulled up in cars. I drenched my arm coolers again, but hesitated to refill my water bottle. “I guess it's okay?” I asked an elderly gentleman who was filling three jugs. “Been drinkin' it for 50 years,” he replied. Enough of an endorsement for me!

We stopped at a quirky little spot to refuel with some healthy fare. I was grateful for the giant berry smoothie, but even more excited at the prospect of a cool shower at the cottage.

Done and done, 34 miles and 3,560 feet of climbing.