Social Climbers

Varying paces separated us on the road, but we'd mostly regroup at the usual places alongside the Calaveras Reservoir.

The landscape is healing, but another prolonged dry spell is fast fading the emerald hills to olive.

While everyone else was keen to continue to a cafe in Sunol (which turned out to be closed), my chief ride buddy and I split off into the Sunol Regional Wilderness, as is our habit.

The park was so busy I wondered whether they were offering free admission. (For vehicles, that is; there is no “parking fee” for cyclists.)

Another lucky reward for our visit to this park: a nice spiral-bound copy of the guidebook for their annual Trails Challenge. Their 29th annual Trails Challenge. Being denizens of the South Bay, we had no idea!

I climbed 2,780 feet over 36 miles using nothing but human pedal-power. There were at least four people in our group on electric bikes today; to my surprise, I'm beginning to find that dispiriting. I'm excited to have the company of folks who otherwise wouldn't be riding, but I'm feeling irked by others whose goal seems to be to zip ahead.

Stay tuned ...

Inclined to Surprise

Seemed like a good day for a not-too-challenging, not-too-long ride.

Running a bit later than I'd intended, I was puzzled to arrive at the starting point for today's ride to find only two fellow cyclists—and not the ride leader. I checked my email to see if he'd canceled. [No.]

We were prepared to follow the route without him, but he did materialize.

We weren't prepared for the first climb. Not having studied the route closely, in advance, I was enjoying the non-traditional route through a residential area of “estate” homes ... until a steep climb loomed above us. “Are we going up that?” my ride buddy asked. [Yup.]

I'll say this: After that, the steep-ish stretch of Roop felt like nothing. And I suspect we were not the only riders who expected a gentler route; we waited for the rest of the group to catch up. Eventually we saw them approaching below us, and that was the last we saw of them (with the exception of the lone e-bike rider). We dawdled for a while before the next turn, chatting, but got too chilled to linger longer.

Even on a familiar route, a new perspective can catch your eye. Location, location, location. I'm guessing that the adjacent stream sustained this majestic tree ... until it didn't.

And while I will rarely pause if I'm flying down a hill, it is occasionally worth it. [Occasionally.]

The lighting. The green hills. The flat surface of the muddy pond.

Free of the group, my ride buddy indulged my curiosity about taking a different route back to avoid an always nerve-wracking uncontrolled left turn across a busy road with fast-moving traffic. I'd tweak my variation slightly, next time; but overall I think it was a win.

A modest 25 miles, but with 1,400 feet of climbing.

Muddy Waters

The last time I biked past Chesbro Reservoir, there was so little water that I couldn't bring myself to take a picture.

The brown water was a welcome sight! Even though it's been more than a week since we've had any real rainfall, sediment carried by the inflow hasn't yet settled out.

My ride buddy and I were of the same mind today—follow the route that skips the last two hills, which we'd just climbed a few weeks ago.

Coyote Creek was flowing fast and the water level was high; I wondered whether we'd be forced to detour. [Yes.] We were somewhat curious to see whether the trail really was still flooded, but not curious enough to bike past the barrier and have to turn back.

Our ride leader was surprised that we'd gotten ahead of the group after we rolled out together. I've shared my route variation with him before, and now have shared it again. Next time, maybe I need to lead an expedition into the Unknown Territory.

A pleasant 39 miles and 860 feet of climbing, though oddly chillier (at times) as the day wore on.