Bonus Ride

How could I not ride, on one last warm January day? [Let me count the ways.]

A car to get smog tested, yard work to be done ...

How could I ride? [Finish those chores by early afternoon.]

I headed through the same neighborhoods, past the deflated Santas and Christmas trees kicked to the curb, for a total of 28 miles and 500 feet of climbing.

The painted miniatures, still in place yesterday, were mostly gone today. Only the Ship, and Smile, remained.

I paused for another bit of whimsy: A little, hand-carved black bear clinging to a tree branch. A pink heart with a message on both sides.

Hang in There

Stay Safe

Time to Climb

Despite being off the bike for two weeks, yesterday's outing didn't exact a toll. Today I'd trade the heavy commute bike for my road bike and climb Bernal.

I peered out my window, and ... there, smack in the middle of my birdbath, sat a bird!

Big deal, you're thinking; that's why it's there. But despite keeping it fresh, until recently I'd never seen evidence that any bird took advantage of it—when I saw a Spotted Towhee perch on the edge and take a sip.

Feathers fluffed out, this Dark-eyed Junco preened, and sat. I watched for a while; he was in no hurry to move on, giving me ample time to pull out my camera. Now and then, after warily surveying the surroundings, he'd spread his wings, dunk his head, and go all in.

I went all in, too; all the way to the summit of Bernal Road. I was puzzled when a pickup truck continued past the public turn-around point, near the top. On a weekend, and especially now, I would not expect an IBM employee to be heading through the gate onto their campus.

Sure enough, the pickup soon returned.

By the time I started my descent, not one but two more vehicles made the same trip. You do need to pass a written test to get a license, so I expect the drivers could read the posted warning signs. The third one seemed particularly flummoxed; if you don't have the skills to read the signs, perhaps your skills for executing a u-turn on an incline are similarly challenged?

It was another glorious, unseasonably warm day. Climbing Shannon and Bernal added up to 1,300 feet, over 29 miles. My legs insisted on taking a flat route, back.

Little Things

Evidently today was Car Wash Day. I didn't get the memo, so I went for a bicycle ride instead. How could I not, with temperatures in the mid-70s—in January?!

The extra canopy in the parking lot of the local hospital we passed last week, for arriving ambulances, was a sobering reminder of our stressed medical infrastructure. This is not the time to need help on the road, and not the time to risk an incident that would warrant medical care. I can enjoy a nice day pedaling through low-traffic neighborhoods; for now, my focus is more on exercise than scenery.

I made my way to the base of Bernal Road, where a line of hikers was snaking single-file up a trail. I paused to capture a photo and was foiled by the angle of the sun. I continued a bit farther, into a shady spot, but the moment was lost. This was my planned turn-around point; as I pulled out my snack I noticed something tucked against the fencepost. I frowned, thinking someone had left a crumpled wrapper. But, it was not that.

There were similar splashes of color on the other nearby posts. Each was a unique work of art, painted on carefully-chosen rocks.

Who would ever notice these? This stretch of fence was not near the trailhead. I've seen a few people walking down the road, from the park; some of us pass by on our bikes, but most visitors are sealed up in their cars.

That might explain why these little gems were still on display (though one post was conspicuously bare). Or maybe the artist intends for admirers to pocket them?

One rock was out of place, on top of its post. Its face was blank, but surely it was part of this collection.

I flipped it over and restored it to is rightful spot. And, smile I did.

Along with my exercise (28 miles, 460 feet of climbing), I was renewed with an unexpected, simple dose of joy.

A Fresh Start

One local tradition for today is to climb Mt. Hamilton, and I'm sure there were cyclists who did.

We were not among them. (Too cold.)

Seeking a long ride and as much warmth as a weak winter sun might offer, my chief cycling buddy agreed to the route I proposed.

Even an ordinary route can be interesting, no? I led us across five bike/pedestrian bridges above five different  freeways, passing through eight different municipalities along the way. Not bad for 43 miles (and 960 feet of climbing).

Happy New Year!