tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45668242841335457292024-03-13T22:11:23.201-07:00About peppephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.comBlogger1087125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-47265080697123371692024-02-21T21:27:00.000-08:002024-03-13T22:10:41.808-07:00Engineers ...[Not] coming soon to a bike shop near you: An upright handcycle?
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3NibzutaShJejpxSMPmDGcFL8XR2w35fCv5sGfRqiwM0DgaNYPnJi4Xdy3oLZKMWbUN7gWzjfJOI9dPgzxRs43CBW0YT83CaDd0vK8TkwvvuB7RmYtDLhvOHInOhsaEOWeVMERr9hxZB8uq5xpibfC5Q_2TEn8KWon_kDc4zaOl-eOqiuqqSGccIo_k/s800/PXL_20240221_212223178.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3NibzutaShJejpxSMPmDGcFL8XR2w35fCv5sGfRqiwM0DgaNYPnJi4Xdy3oLZKMWbUN7gWzjfJOI9dPgzxRs43CBW0YT83CaDd0vK8TkwvvuB7RmYtDLhvOHInOhsaEOWeVMERr9hxZB8uq5xpibfC5Q_2TEn8KWon_kDc4zaOl-eOqiuqqSGccIo_k/s320/PXL_20240221_212223178.jpg"/></a></div>But, hang on ... the rider's legs were also spinning!
<p>I'm sorry I didn't stop to chat with the fellow who rolled up on this curious machine, but it's a safe bet it was none other than Stanford's <a href="https://stanforddaily.com/2022/01/02/professor-brings-swagger-to-the-stanford-campus-with-the-full-body-bicycle/" target="_blank">Richard Reis</a>. (The “Full Body Bicycle” placard mounted on the front was my clue.)
<p>A good 20 miles from the university, Dr. Reis clearly gets around. If our paths cross again, I'll ask why he didn't opt for belt-drive instead of chains. (Belts weigh less and need essentially no maintenance.)</p>
<p>In any case, I wouldn't want to cruise downhill on that thing ...</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Dell Ave, Campbell, CA, USA37.2674222 -121.9538918-20.029970685125363 167.7336082 90 -51.641391799999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-29395189553820246672024-02-16T22:04:00.000-08:002024-03-06T22:02:40.709-08:00Bike MoreOutlook for the week: Clear schedule. Clear weather.
<p>Plan for the week: <i>Ride bike</i>.</p>
<p>The right moment, the right conditions, and even an ordinary place can suddenly be eye-catching.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYaWZhe0BYp7aInuAkKybV4b49Qf-Whvr3OOoVFO4tNDJP2u0vZtxwZQ1mmN82fuAp4cfdbZvzzb1kFbw5E4zTOg7emQYhUhZ2WmANuRc1EB6puMYngyfZM0FOIYJT-u56icY7cKdLi_iRfE2uLCEon0FZg4JyCMRMWNB0biCH_gv9LoxPwpHZm12IAU/s800/PXL_20240213_201317670.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYaWZhe0BYp7aInuAkKybV4b49Qf-Whvr3OOoVFO4tNDJP2u0vZtxwZQ1mmN82fuAp4cfdbZvzzb1kFbw5E4zTOg7emQYhUhZ2WmANuRc1EB6puMYngyfZM0FOIYJT-u56icY7cKdLi_iRfE2uLCEon0FZg4JyCMRMWNB0biCH_gv9LoxPwpHZm12IAU/s320/PXL_20240213_201317670.jpg"/></a></div>I talked myself into another climb up Bernal. (Rainy days ahead!)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4IBWO3-8GpzhUAVR6LqQJ3ZCdU9vbfFr9J8YqG-ShywHQONpAAyRGl6iwwDuA4-j9ZlWI0jLfimqqA2jD1TDWMPSFwx3TZxEAWVisOZ9HIbMNe79oEYnTlPrMbDSB5GiQdYCCKPjw7OgmHGIC6nXd7gcUxAOWB1qDGX5Sj2jBqmJHl_rDAFZNXHJ3co/s800/PXL_20240215_222417162.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4IBWO3-8GpzhUAVR6LqQJ3ZCdU9vbfFr9J8YqG-ShywHQONpAAyRGl6iwwDuA4-j9ZlWI0jLfimqqA2jD1TDWMPSFwx3TZxEAWVisOZ9HIbMNe79oEYnTlPrMbDSB5GiQdYCCKPjw7OgmHGIC6nXd7gcUxAOWB1qDGX5Sj2jBqmJHl_rDAFZNXHJ3co/s320/PXL_20240215_222417162.jpg"/></a></div>One of the advantages of solo riding is the freedom to take in the sights at a leisurely pace. To stop and admire things, like this engineering marvel. (Hard to judge the size from the photo—the nest is more than six inches long.) How did a bird build that?!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF11alUQEJY9bU-XcBkJVyJ0bpIv66zhnp6K7gz4cPbb_iDUX-IFaVWCjV4lsFzaWPwc9gUaraH3D6K10pnlUAHWXQ1rLpCi_rG_pt6to758vzBV1bVMt5oPn3L6925gNJ4bwViUSt6cdsfHoAQSKxxgZbGea4lXbhRhNPGwYfV2Xe8DPHeh32odrrfJE/s800/PXL_20240222_223656301.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="549" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF11alUQEJY9bU-XcBkJVyJ0bpIv66zhnp6K7gz4cPbb_iDUX-IFaVWCjV4lsFzaWPwc9gUaraH3D6K10pnlUAHWXQ1rLpCi_rG_pt6to758vzBV1bVMt5oPn3L6925gNJ4bwViUSt6cdsfHoAQSKxxgZbGea4lXbhRhNPGwYfV2Xe8DPHeh32odrrfJE/s320/PXL_20240222_223656301.jpg"/></a></div>I appreciate camaraderie, too: Conversation and a reason to enjoy a luscious lemon meringue tart.
<p>Plan for the week successfully executed: 110 miles, more than 3,000 feet of climbing, and plenty of fun with a bicycle.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Stile Ranch Trail, San Jose, CA 95120, USA37.2143756 -121.796539837.2139483889129 -121.79707624180298 37.2148028110871 -121.79600335819703tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-9599876707599503022024-02-12T20:37:00.000-08:002024-03-02T21:37:38.062-08:00Running WaterOh so many years ago, when I was new to the Bay Area, a friend and I ventured to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uvas_Canyon_County_Park" target="_blank">Uvas Canyon County Park</a> in search of waterfalls. [We found none.]
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMAhGsUJvA2rhlzdqjKYeyo1f0TwFEIyJAJ35OuyPNsDFmXXUKiGY2GbE90HlMA5LmK3YonUaEIpzhvNNmlcqCI7HMz_cwzpu1sTDveBvEWcBN43Fgl5cdS1lL5Mz67USanrndWk-2XJtEuH1gbzPD30OB-DYoLtmbiJRxiQy929-BoUKqv4gIhIPsN4k/s800/PXL_20240212_185506071.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMAhGsUJvA2rhlzdqjKYeyo1f0TwFEIyJAJ35OuyPNsDFmXXUKiGY2GbE90HlMA5LmK3YonUaEIpzhvNNmlcqCI7HMz_cwzpu1sTDveBvEWcBN43Fgl5cdS1lL5Mz67USanrndWk-2XJtEuH1gbzPD30OB-DYoLtmbiJRxiQy929-BoUKqv4gIhIPsN4k/s320/PXL_20240212_185506071.jpg"/></a></div>
That was likely due to clueless timing—we were probably there during the (dry) summer months. I think we turned back, disappointed, after finding a trail blocked by fallen trees.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpl21WD7cTzEwAeIyiLwTlVHTf9S_e4cI3FtZ7giTDVid11AgjtMY0TtXI1ceWMmuUI6LT-a4HviXu4BU-rxivyOzxHfypFS9kBohG7TYp1_wKF3sjibAMEj4PYGRyeREbXWzJu4_iXFTnjvZxaNaCdtuDGmeVUSA0Lho_t0mFlWWZvJ8IiA8m5OPXeQ/s800/PXL_20240212_193854490.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpl21WD7cTzEwAeIyiLwTlVHTf9S_e4cI3FtZ7giTDVid11AgjtMY0TtXI1ceWMmuUI6LT-a4HviXu4BU-rxivyOzxHfypFS9kBohG7TYp1_wKF3sjibAMEj4PYGRyeREbXWzJu4_iXFTnjvZxaNaCdtuDGmeVUSA0Lho_t0mFlWWZvJ8IiA8m5OPXeQ/s320/PXL_20240212_193854490.jpg"/></a></div>Some trees adapt.
<p>When our chief hiking instigator suggested the park for today's hike—for the waterfalls—I knew it was a brilliant idea. Surely they'd be flowing, and maybe the trails wouldn't be too muddy.</p>
<p>Indeed! We met a local who assured us our timing was spot-on: Too soon after a storm and the water would be muddy. <i>Today?</i> Splendid!</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I-E9ICcgCBrPuNrtYLmcNPqtDtNDTrU80mvPCb65jLsKDcdYQjKgbJ2TTKVPRd4y47E53fEkuILyI3Orv2MKquDxyymp4wZ-dhQntUXTz58qfC-mCB6DLtzYySPbzVs6YRMngwAWKA_DQPes6uSXkd8pb0Up0v0AncLI6kTVbQ6Sj2yqgs8McwPcPls/s800/PXL_20240212_203315431~2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I-E9ICcgCBrPuNrtYLmcNPqtDtNDTrU80mvPCb65jLsKDcdYQjKgbJ2TTKVPRd4y47E53fEkuILyI3Orv2MKquDxyymp4wZ-dhQntUXTz58qfC-mCB6DLtzYySPbzVs6YRMngwAWKA_DQPes6uSXkd8pb0Up0v0AncLI6kTVbQ6Sj2yqgs8McwPcPls/s320/PXL_20240212_203315431~2.jpg"/></a></div>
Our group has often biked into this park, for the challenge of the climb and to linger over our snacks in a such a lovely place. Parking is limited, so advance reservations are required . . . for those arriving <i>in vehicles</i>. [Today, we carpooled.]
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8DgIAeTsGZAE86XJzElE766z78hu0LCtfJDr7t0YdYiHrRrbK0J4GN-FTE3lCLMpuxkR1nsFJSr6IFzXLeQzJqcsRHw4B2dNVQT0cf3VAyH1MO4jtPF4ecRb8AUeQ036NjhFoz9kcokcrI4PrhCqS8Gy72FuhnB6mj__gIhXh1U44X6iP_H6V-OMZ2Y/s800/PXL_20240212_180550674.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8DgIAeTsGZAE86XJzElE766z78hu0LCtfJDr7t0YdYiHrRrbK0J4GN-FTE3lCLMpuxkR1nsFJSr6IFzXLeQzJqcsRHw4B2dNVQT0cf3VAyH1MO4jtPF4ecRb8AUeQ036NjhFoz9kcokcrI4PrhCqS8Gy72FuhnB6mj__gIhXh1U44X6iP_H6V-OMZ2Y/s320/PXL_20240212_180550674.jpg"/></a></div>Expecting to spend the day in the forest, I was surprised by the occasional view across the valley—even though we did not climb to the highest point in the park.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5cl_h0YrUxbs7bTq5r7JfReHNMKTtyrWHxjkzBJvKPnaGZ1T-iynQoE7R2EIWPzr6CciFDtav-uLB7odACo-niA8bynbIMI4zQkNbZWrDCxAf6vgmL6dkBKRO1PTwfK6sn38yjR9yFeUvj_LQiEvpFHO5tCcKNvO2scSlRuFENiZz0N06nUSP-clnks/s800/PXL_20240212_184730949.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5cl_h0YrUxbs7bTq5r7JfReHNMKTtyrWHxjkzBJvKPnaGZ1T-iynQoE7R2EIWPzr6CciFDtav-uLB7odACo-niA8bynbIMI4zQkNbZWrDCxAf6vgmL6dkBKRO1PTwfK6sn38yjR9yFeUvj_LQiEvpFHO5tCcKNvO2scSlRuFENiZz0N06nUSP-clnks/s320/PXL_20240212_184730949.jpg"/></a></div>For a close-up of Upper Basin Falls, I found sure footing and extended my arm to get a clear shot around that boulder.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwM6nUTBmS-BnSzvx0JG39zsF_mi0qGB5lkJjKDww36s-vXCbDhZqwtXqgd3aqntvG5YI-EkgHkvjxlJL6ve7Ug6qJ4zNaOHDZXxn5FHr8VSAV86ob6C8fSrNqww9Th2CtKIAmtCza2nVtojTDvOHxbj8kf9FBXMmx7WzGXxz_4ba8rO5ZndJ3kVcMhos/s800/PXL_20240212_205153895.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwM6nUTBmS-BnSzvx0JG39zsF_mi0qGB5lkJjKDww36s-vXCbDhZqwtXqgd3aqntvG5YI-EkgHkvjxlJL6ve7Ug6qJ4zNaOHDZXxn5FHr8VSAV86ob6C8fSrNqww9Th2CtKIAmtCza2nVtojTDvOHxbj8kf9FBXMmx7WzGXxz_4ba8rO5ZndJ3kVcMhos/s320/PXL_20240212_205153895.jpg"/></a></div>We spotted several clusters of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hippodamia_convergens" target="_blank">Convergent Lady Beetles</a>, an unusual (but natural) phenomenon that I'd not witnessed before. Our world is a wondrous place!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFl4iVeUHrw8bojA2PaAnBFU8UMFyIoHn7yZzSM4t8Htp8VXU5n5oTB2PToRZxH-ajjFSO7PfFFbuu5izUWvJymKc-oy1pyEd9OdM2tIXaiah47LVUSAOjfe9SFtPZ4bvWQz6J_Y31APyK6MseNHqIfDN7pqkK5xa2KDpnhIcAPHWDHsvJcvtnxI7jIc/s2931/PXL_20240212_204331275.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="2931" data-original-width="2535" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFl4iVeUHrw8bojA2PaAnBFU8UMFyIoHn7yZzSM4t8Htp8VXU5n5oTB2PToRZxH-ajjFSO7PfFFbuu5izUWvJymKc-oy1pyEd9OdM2tIXaiah47LVUSAOjfe9SFtPZ4bvWQz6J_Y31APyK6MseNHqIfDN7pqkK5xa2KDpnhIcAPHWDHsvJcvtnxI7jIc/s320/PXL_20240212_204331275.jpg"/></a></div>Even though this was prime time for waterfall viewing, we had the park nearly to ourselves—a big perk for weekday hiking. Our clockwise loop led us to the biggest waterfalls near the end, covering about <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/147007510?privacy_code=rLVgq3RhdhVONNrFX2SU6xPt9GkVUvHB" target="_blank">five miles</a> and crossing a wide, rocky stream with no mishaps. Hiking poles, for the win!pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Uvas Canyon County Park, 8515 Croy Rd, Morgan Hill, CA 95037, USA37.078565 -121.79634448.7683311638211521 -156.9525944 65.388798836178836 -86.6400944tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-44683473021908035402024-02-06T20:39:00.000-08:002024-02-12T21:13:53.060-08:00Oh, Snap!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcyEA67CFlM7pt-_oeWogkW9w6DEgMFukE-qYjBlq8UYNnhaiunuAzKDS0gsk383ExijZnrOveBkJqYN7uMaNTVrXfa5O9B5YcXLqarEtJD0wiwEfQGmq0SFKkoxL4ewVJT4bWs973v7ZaZ1DY53zuYMhksilc2_lutKLA8mgtbyrt6JDsCUYThyk-WY/s800/PXL_20240206_201915928.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcyEA67CFlM7pt-_oeWogkW9w6DEgMFukE-qYjBlq8UYNnhaiunuAzKDS0gsk383ExijZnrOveBkJqYN7uMaNTVrXfa5O9B5YcXLqarEtJD0wiwEfQGmq0SFKkoxL4ewVJT4bWs973v7ZaZ1DY53zuYMhksilc2_lutKLA8mgtbyrt6JDsCUYThyk-WY/s320/PXL_20240206_201915928.jpg"/></a></div>Well, that's a problem.
<p>I had regretted not riding on Saturday, when the rain arrived much later than expected. I was determined to ride today, but once I got a good look at the menacing clouds, I wondered if I'd chosen poorly. Clinging to the western hills, I hoped they were releasing moisture there (and only there). </p>
<p>Fortunately, I did stay dry. Whenever the sun broke through, I was too warm; but mostly the clouds kept me well-chilled.</p>
<p>Sunday's storm was characterized as a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Explosive_cyclogenesis" target="_blank">bomb cyclone</a>; I stayed safely indoors. Prepared for the inevitable outage, I lucked out and only lost power for about five hours. Many of my neighbors did not fare so well—some were in the dark (and cold) until this afternoon.</p>
<p>Cruising around today, I was surprised not to see more damage along my 29-mile route: Two fallen trees on front lawns, mostly twigs and small bits of debris in the bike lanes. And then, well, that utility pole ...</p>
<p>More rain tomorrow.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0191 Bernal Rd, San Jose, CA 95119, USA37.2274464 -121.776591737.220612058564541 -121.78517476884765 37.234280741435455 -121.76800863115234tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-1014715075604045772024-01-30T21:08:00.000-08:002024-02-11T20:34:57.699-08:00Bluebirds of HappinessWith some wild (wet and windy) weather in the forecast, it was high time to tackle a challenging ride: First ascent of Bernal in 2024.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBETOLXI62i8G3E1rHKSA_hLNqstejBfVhUBqjTY9tEkSrSsr7UXys6nspXYdfvRluOyh-DXh9W52E69DS8kkp9Q-Li-0ROsX1BC37YFHoPJx48fyi3gcQinGbaQS5dirJbTmzkIP6roFLmL7iwjDAjUnN4Pk5XKc-Kkqf5MhyphenhyphengQlbobruvQig8iqnKRI/s800/PXL_20240130_224323999.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBETOLXI62i8G3E1rHKSA_hLNqstejBfVhUBqjTY9tEkSrSsr7UXys6nspXYdfvRluOyh-DXh9W52E69DS8kkp9Q-Li-0ROsX1BC37YFHoPJx48fyi3gcQinGbaQS5dirJbTmzkIP6roFLmL7iwjDAjUnN4Pk5XKc-Kkqf5MhyphenhyphengQlbobruvQig8iqnKRI/s320/PXL_20240130_224323999.jpg"/></a></div>I followed my usual routine at the picnic area: Pick up litter. Place litter in trash can. Which is ... <i>right there</i>. [People!]
<p>I wondered why there were so many birds flitting about. Lots of bluebirds, and a lone goldfinch tucked in a tangle of branches.</p>
<p>Aha! Someone has hung a nesting box in a tree and bluebirds have moved in. A little extra incentive for me to do the miles (29) and the climb (about 1,000 feet, give or take).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Yv8kJeMoMEKboJEQs36RZ93keaCEtHll_sXxMLoWM1DRvHkiHhBdxHB3jrtB-n5PjohFVF5kZbbOXio2Wx4_hyphenhyphenZLoG-p4lsnk8ZaZKWYgkbvt7p991tpv0nSAgzshoxHzJMdOXJBTUUb78lnOQt-7MFsoaC1I4yVOsfGaj1fNFaDS2DevUJ884VCBOQ/s800/PXL_20240130_225202327.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Yv8kJeMoMEKboJEQs36RZ93keaCEtHll_sXxMLoWM1DRvHkiHhBdxHB3jrtB-n5PjohFVF5kZbbOXio2Wx4_hyphenhyphenZLoG-p4lsnk8ZaZKWYgkbvt7p991tpv0nSAgzshoxHzJMdOXJBTUUb78lnOQt-7MFsoaC1I4yVOsfGaj1fNFaDS2DevUJ884VCBOQ/s320/PXL_20240130_225202327.jpg"/></a></div>I'll be back!pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0San Jose, CA 95120, USA37.2145081 -121.79649268.9042742638211578 -156.9527426 65.524741936178856 -86.6402426tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-1348050515971484152024-01-29T21:06:00.000-08:002024-02-10T22:20:26.465-08:00Butterflies, Birds, Bunnies ... Bobcat?To the west, a clear view of the valley and the southern reaches of San Francisco Bay.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LiCzp1QmSFfTtWR06fxg2ecKlxcEYmgt9oWgJsM0IbcG8sJtCMYWmQodCLbHqsckO4HFcwVv1SxtYyMu8awEEDoGSBJpcBRxJZtVd4tjoz7d7FLwaDUrKxZJ6t26CqQmVw9F_lVvR6a4Z_WktHTd9HCAoSJBVzhV0NIoD8BXkLU2ZH-1qo7Wzyc-_UI/s800/PXL_20240129_174728538.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LiCzp1QmSFfTtWR06fxg2ecKlxcEYmgt9oWgJsM0IbcG8sJtCMYWmQodCLbHqsckO4HFcwVv1SxtYyMu8awEEDoGSBJpcBRxJZtVd4tjoz7d7FLwaDUrKxZJ6t26CqQmVw9F_lVvR6a4Z_WktHTd9HCAoSJBVzhV0NIoD8BXkLU2ZH-1qo7Wzyc-_UI/s320/PXL_20240129_174728538.jpg"/></a></div>Turn your back on civilization and admire Mt. Hamilton to the east.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9vN-Xu96kmeqrX43UXYhqZRaw8aBsF5_-nzSF7u7Yh3Goptp6TKydkfgbtJBuQ-3yJX1_dLDhLsnRmLPYjTWhwLQ0mlS9I04EpE7ewICM0Tg7CZnYVlk5HvxmzDas68pQhN11OzqlnKeUawTpMe3DyHRtlayj4YRqlIG_cuMnXBp4-4miwW2yzeWHUaU/s800/PXL_20240129_205216252.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9vN-Xu96kmeqrX43UXYhqZRaw8aBsF5_-nzSF7u7Yh3Goptp6TKydkfgbtJBuQ-3yJX1_dLDhLsnRmLPYjTWhwLQ0mlS9I04EpE7ewICM0Tg7CZnYVlk5HvxmzDas68pQhN11OzqlnKeUawTpMe3DyHRtlayj4YRqlIG_cuMnXBp4-4miwW2yzeWHUaU/s320/PXL_20240129_205216252.jpg"/></a></div>With some hope that we might see a bobcat, I'd suggested today's hike to a friend who is also fond of felines. [No promises, of course.]
<p>It was unseasonably warm; I wished I'd chosen a lighter-weight shirt. We <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/144121720?privacy_code=4PDVZ4aZijDT0Za805jmg8GshzewcdIW" target="_blank">followed</a> the same route I'd enjoyed <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2024/01/hello-kitty.html" target="_blank">a few weeks ago</a>. Ground squirrels were plentiful, but I was surprised when my hiking buddy spotted a bunny! Moments after it scampered into the brush, she spied a bobcat sauntering down an adjacent trail (away from us, and the lucky bunny).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdsYHGZHyeqComyztmyrJJMQnA6kSGSvBbFmCCYBHMP8yCbty9Ryf-vvL5K_ySh8raq_Ky6syTLLQxAu8-9ucV5YWHxLyXYGVmsCNHfOAiqDi2v49_h4lkOn0eQuEXIPQJfF1lEMRMN6GBHdR9ys4ViQSekGL6iQah6Cty1Yy9esCTgB0ty7fGxGl65E/s660/PXL_20240129_184245472.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="440" data-original-width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdsYHGZHyeqComyztmyrJJMQnA6kSGSvBbFmCCYBHMP8yCbty9Ryf-vvL5K_ySh8raq_Ky6syTLLQxAu8-9ucV5YWHxLyXYGVmsCNHfOAiqDi2v49_h4lkOn0eQuEXIPQJfF1lEMRMN6GBHdR9ys4ViQSekGL6iQah6Cty1Yy9esCTgB0ty7fGxGl65E/s320/PXL_20240129_184245472.jpg"/></a></div>Birds provided the soundtrack for our trek. Amidst much twittering, one intermittent call stood out—almost like laughter. <a href="https://merlin.allaboutbirds.org/" target="_blank">Merlin Sound ID</a>, for the win: a <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/California_Quail/sounds" target="_blank">California Quail</a>. [<i>ha-HA-ha, ha-HA-ha, ha-HA-ha.</i>]
<p>Keep your eyes, ears, and mind open. Always!</p>
pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Sierra Vista Open Space Preserve, Sierra Rd, San Jose, CA 95127, USA37.4091663 -121.8016089.0989324638211571 -156.957858 65.719400136178848 -86.645358tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-58647746614845445632024-01-26T20:30:00.000-08:002024-02-04T21:15:57.122-08:00A Taste of EdenNow here's a popular route I haven't ridden in quite some time: Mt. Eden. <i>On a weekday?</i>
<p>Break out the road bike for some proper hill climbing! No problem holding my own with traffic on the way the start: 34+ mph on a downhill (just under the speed limit). <i>This ... bike ... is ... fast.</i></p>
<p>I felt apprehensive about sharing the road with gravel trucks streaming in and out of the quarry on Stevens Canyon Road; my ride buddies were unfazed. Still, it's best not to linger on that stretch.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBTSho9ILG1rWUV9rdgWau30Z7pAjmzH9o4TUo6VJuHE8AeWgglzmyDXmFKoiYCl4vK8Xg1N-Ac_aGHkhvQ3IITtHnlEn9GYqU7K7fmB9zaL0p48gQ-9qccGqmy5FcvSI2LsVC32VssDfwqM2P7qbJuFZbvfQOVpW6NsjFGJAc9JVVZG6WeZG4YQ11bA/s800/PXL_20240126_185751305.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBTSho9ILG1rWUV9rdgWau30Z7pAjmzH9o4TUo6VJuHE8AeWgglzmyDXmFKoiYCl4vK8Xg1N-Ac_aGHkhvQ3IITtHnlEn9GYqU7K7fmB9zaL0p48gQ-9qccGqmy5FcvSI2LsVC32VssDfwqM2P7qbJuFZbvfQOVpW6NsjFGJAc9JVVZG6WeZG4YQ11bA/s320/PXL_20240126_185751305.jpg"/></a></div>The view from the vista point has changed over the years. It affords a clear view of the cube atop Mt. Umunhum in the distance. In the foreground, well ... new “estate homes” creep ever closer.
<p>Twenty-five miles and more than 1,500 feet of elevation gain for me. No longer chasing club statistics, we <i>descended</i> Pierce to return to Saratoga for lunch. A proper sandwich was in order, but the cafe's lemon meringue tarts looked so luscious. <i>Why not ... both?</i></p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Mt Eden Rd, Saratoga, CA, USA37.2702569 -122.06036159.6992559248804 -157.2166115 64.8412578751196 -86.9041115tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-36359963443850249262024-01-17T21:12:00.000-08:002024-02-03T20:29:13.822-08:00Water, AlwaysI'd suggested an easy, post-lunch stroll up the trail alongside Los Gatos Creek, perhaps turning back before reaching Lexington Reservoir. [I should have known better.] <i>No mud today</i>, I'd insisted.
<p>Leaving the cafe, I wondered if I should have opted for a bottle of water that I could have carried with me ... but we weren't going for a real hike. [Were we?]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXgmUH8DAz2bcfd4Z2RkRNtxYIHISrj5Y3Xeu2UgeAJn0lqVCYIampRf-n_k5bc_VBe-ABgv9bRukaJ7DxKm_7wnJhA9g2sB5tVs3u-jrJk76HeBnl5zzEjDfNRzac4QTOxMXZv3aAiCwcye2VItbVJIUq8uQe4eTlXxh6gV4Tz25M57ruaJRIQ7z1Dk/s800/PXL_20240117_224535154.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXgmUH8DAz2bcfd4Z2RkRNtxYIHISrj5Y3Xeu2UgeAJn0lqVCYIampRf-n_k5bc_VBe-ABgv9bRukaJ7DxKm_7wnJhA9g2sB5tVs3u-jrJk76HeBnl5zzEjDfNRzac4QTOxMXZv3aAiCwcye2VItbVJIUq8uQe4eTlXxh6gV4Tz25M57ruaJRIQ7z1Dk/s320/PXL_20240117_224535154.jpg"/></a></div>I didn't start <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/143729264?privacy_code=mYOzWtTaiB9SkBUyMYhFDXuawUIA7IX5" target="_blank">tracking</a> our “hike” until we left the reservoir, expecting we'd make a direct return on the other side of the creek. [Wouldn't we?]
<p>“Let's go up St. Joseph's Hill,” my companion suggested, seeking a real hike after all. [I should have known.]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWM8o1c2FT_l2sxZTdThi0CM0wmthfBEDEiDt5mSc3gAsLw9L-VVt0CHZsjclqZd3uDXuNtjuKnASrmBOvi_7mJ3yPmD1VuccenZrScg2j60ecdFWfCT8O_7ApkRI4DdOpYBKDsNeP4vAROP2-0TynlQcRRtqZ7CbiWUdMBW3SqHjZXEr7hoQJdM485w/s600/PXL_20240117_235520714.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWM8o1c2FT_l2sxZTdThi0CM0wmthfBEDEiDt5mSc3gAsLw9L-VVt0CHZsjclqZd3uDXuNtjuKnASrmBOvi_7mJ3yPmD1VuccenZrScg2j60ecdFWfCT8O_7ApkRI4DdOpYBKDsNeP4vAROP2-0TynlQcRRtqZ7CbiWUdMBW3SqHjZXEr7hoQJdM485w/s320/PXL_20240117_235520714.jpg"/></a></div>I'd only been up here once before, and that was ... more than 20 years ago. [Really?!]
<p>The day was clear(ish). Certainly clearer than <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2024/01/clear-as-mud.html" target="_blank">two days ago</a>. By the time we finished, we'd covered more than eight miles. With hydration, I would have been happier.</p>
<p>Carry water. <i>Always</i>.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0St. Joseph's Hill Open Space Preserve, Los Gatos, CA 95030, USA37.2055075 -121.98368279.5140866009846263 -157.1399327 64.89692839901538 -86.8274327tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-59186235436172891702024-01-15T20:53:00.000-08:002024-02-02T21:11:53.474-08:00Clear as MudTraversing mostly exposed terrain, we hoped to find mostly-dry trails.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1jAxl6QMwnYre8dDmUiT1CDokcxHkzacxsnO4R7AaRi42PuLI1nfihoVo4PTAQTSRPmFCJE6n1lPITfeEv99YzaoL1ZYR9TE3VrmjA98w82UPMdl3NKVZQ0sOo2uy5ibSzdU0VH9zXi8pELIrLyTskntzj_PBq2pBU2UckWgU3jmz9WGXLVLxK1ujpY/s800/PXL_20240115_193917962.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1jAxl6QMwnYre8dDmUiT1CDokcxHkzacxsnO4R7AaRi42PuLI1nfihoVo4PTAQTSRPmFCJE6n1lPITfeEv99YzaoL1ZYR9TE3VrmjA98w82UPMdl3NKVZQ0sOo2uy5ibSzdU0VH9zXi8pELIrLyTskntzj_PBq2pBU2UckWgU3jmz9WGXLVLxK1ujpY/s320/PXL_20240115_193917962.jpg"/></a></div>We found enough mucky clay to cake our boots.
<p>Climbing up toward Coyote Peak, we made good use of our trekking poles and were surprised to cross paths with a sure-footed couple using none—especially given that the dad was toting their baby.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRctbFSNRTZMFyHMjEq_TM9DjhgMVH7zKKuxjFjQB3md6emX_YcE7hVBLgyIQv509RusEWHWPCYzNGZOLnR9L7rDeVeRg_BW7A7-WZ5bmdk5Ch1XI4b-Lke4JEZL5Eo9mW-jOHSRKZIDFO3wYelWHcVRumAB55ZABkKOvS-zXSO0aKl5COEGxXvzzEmY/s800/PXL_20240115_183856069.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRctbFSNRTZMFyHMjEq_TM9DjhgMVH7zKKuxjFjQB3md6emX_YcE7hVBLgyIQv509RusEWHWPCYzNGZOLnR9L7rDeVeRg_BW7A7-WZ5bmdk5Ch1XI4b-Lke4JEZL5Eo9mW-jOHSRKZIDFO3wYelWHcVRumAB55ZABkKOvS-zXSO0aKl5COEGxXvzzEmY/s320/PXL_20240115_183856069.jpg"/></a></div>When visibility is limited, focus on what's near. Too early in the season for flowers; rocks, moss, mushrooms, mud ... did I mention, mud?
<p>Not that I'm complaining—hiking in a fleece vest over a lightweight woolen top. In January.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-N_ZHUeJiHgwThv3QhAAGuqIDvt_FHj-u8OKZsaR5p3gxXqgBOn3kK9DPSXgThh7SHGehqA2Rv60vN0b96MyL8uHMckZFXXgQ6W0qxVzdK_ly8rOMyGhpFgqpUxnknI7D7qAVTLqV6OlLQRjpB0kMsHV8ZAG8HefykYgs7jdCFHQsxv3Qf4QE91z1UQ/s800/PXL_20240115_190347764.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-N_ZHUeJiHgwThv3QhAAGuqIDvt_FHj-u8OKZsaR5p3gxXqgBOn3kK9DPSXgThh7SHGehqA2Rv60vN0b96MyL8uHMckZFXXgQ6W0qxVzdK_ly8rOMyGhpFgqpUxnknI7D7qAVTLqV6OlLQRjpB0kMsHV8ZAG8HefykYgs7jdCFHQsxv3Qf4QE91z1UQ/s320/PXL_20240115_190347764.jpg"/></a></div>Beautiful in its own way, and beautifully quiet. I completed a
<a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/143304868?privacy_code=WWsXCyOZETMIkKdsxxAZaRMMI6mnBuAI" target="_blank">six mile loop, with 952 feet of elevation gain</a>.
<p>When we finished, I scraped off as much mud as I could. (And was grateful that I'd developed a habit of swapping boots for street shoes before and after my hikes.) My experienced companions assured me that it would be easier to clean my boots <i>right away</i>, at home; that it would, in fact, be a bigger challenge once the mud dried. [Though, lunch came first!]</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Santa Teresa County Park, Bernal Rd, San Jose, CA 95120, USA37.213917 -121.78763548.9036831638211567 -156.9438854 65.524150836178848 -86.6313854tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-41299902010776056072024-01-14T18:44:00.000-08:002024-01-15T19:00:07.143-08:00Flash of Color<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWl1TRVR3psoKUCt7yU36YLWqTSOj_CdNgsQrNweJ5Xm-Yq2zd8WyZz92UaLlHgDmm0dvJWEcM_9u_UdTR4-5uKgvKoew2dLnUQppLKKUL4JAXkj6Z4Dvbx_9VnB90dgcARmmKSqfUbWov1EWEe795J8B0wcDcm9cdZo6vrjp0eQoEbHqGR8tgh6GcWgo/s800/PXL_20240114_223552344.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWl1TRVR3psoKUCt7yU36YLWqTSOj_CdNgsQrNweJ5Xm-Yq2zd8WyZz92UaLlHgDmm0dvJWEcM_9u_UdTR4-5uKgvKoew2dLnUQppLKKUL4JAXkj6Z4Dvbx_9VnB90dgcARmmKSqfUbWov1EWEe795J8B0wcDcm9cdZo6vrjp0eQoEbHqGR8tgh6GcWgo/s320/PXL_20240114_223552344.jpg"/></a></div>Sometimes an ordinary, unremarkable bike ride takes a noteworthy turn.
<p>As luck would have it, I needed to abbreviate today's route (20 miles, rather than the 27 I'd planned). But with little traffic on familiar roads, I could comfortably look here and there ... and up. I happened to be in the right spot at the right moment to capture a wee bit of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloud_iridescence" target="_blank">iridescent cloud</a>.</p>
<p>What I would have missed, had I chosen to skip this ride today!</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Coleman Ave, San Jose, CA, USA37.3494043 -121.91874079.0391704638211579 -157.0749907 65.659638136178842 -86.7624907tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-88688806052047474622024-01-13T21:17:00.000-08:002024-01-13T21:17:25.257-08:00The Hiking ClubAn unusual event popped up on a local events calendar: A short hike led by someone from the county parks department, in conjunction with a visit to the local art museum (<a href="https://www.numulosgatos.org/" target="_blank">NUMU</a>) to view an exhibition (<i>The Hiking Club: A Vocabulary of Yearning</i>). The artist (<a href="https://www.lindasimmel.com/" target="_blank">Linda Simmel</a>) and the curator joined us for the hike and would later lead us through the exhibit, piece by piece, answering questions.
<p>Given the advertised duration for the event, I knew the “hike” would be a short one. With rain in the forecast, I thought I might be the only person who would show up—and the hosts might wish I'd stayed home, like everyone else.</p>
<p>Ha! More than 20 people turned out. The group met at the museum and chatted over coffee, tea, and pastries before setting out.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8j3kUm1HOQHwtXnHZbCYA93GtDslV9YDIikyMlutoejNK_Fe89Z8AXI8eLLSmE94S8F29ng3Fr7zb3yhuyftcvT9qx4WL6vFF4JuatksaOSGqXzZjRX7d7OQbTkxbHyuH96cW3cM-m6t7Vba2xN8Flr9CbUOTbhdmPc0V6WyTxZxuGS8xZR6-3gTRUrg/s800/PXL_20240113_173834668.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="555" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8j3kUm1HOQHwtXnHZbCYA93GtDslV9YDIikyMlutoejNK_Fe89Z8AXI8eLLSmE94S8F29ng3Fr7zb3yhuyftcvT9qx4WL6vFF4JuatksaOSGqXzZjRX7d7OQbTkxbHyuH96cW3cM-m6t7Vba2xN8Flr9CbUOTbhdmPc0V6WyTxZxuGS8xZR6-3gTRUrg/s320/PXL_20240113_173834668.jpg"/></a></div>Fittingly for a nature outing, we gathered near a different exhibit featuring embroidered renderings of endangered plants (<i>the lost ones: iterations and murmurs</i>, by <a href="https://www.lizharveystudio.com/" target="_blank">Liz Harvey</a>).
<p>Rain didn't fall (nor did people fall) as we made our way along a sometimes-muddy, sometimes-uphill stretch of the Flume Trail before retracing our steps to the museum.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQNGpC6m0PPQ_jDn_zn9rB0vETjmm6WwAC8FTvjsXRRsZTN9cc3Wd1pt6UOl8LKKR2B-5XjhTtXgeZ2oblbPuwcBm77_N-jGgJl22NrCz1AbTrVLSYUh30w4Zt9TZ2SSNTh3Xku93h2xgSV63IOBVc5Qe1ZFIMHxR7G0Z3a_9QPoKrdivjP7hShpgBpg/s800/PXL_20240113_181804367.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQNGpC6m0PPQ_jDn_zn9rB0vETjmm6WwAC8FTvjsXRRsZTN9cc3Wd1pt6UOl8LKKR2B-5XjhTtXgeZ2oblbPuwcBm77_N-jGgJl22NrCz1AbTrVLSYUh30w4Zt9TZ2SSNTh3Xku93h2xgSV63IOBVc5Qe1ZFIMHxR7G0Z3a_9QPoKrdivjP7hShpgBpg/s320/PXL_20240113_181804367.jpg"/></a></div>A grumpy old man came barreling down the trail and scowled “You can't block the trail!” Our guide rolled his eyes, and someone in the group quietly chuckled “Oh yes we can” as people politely stepped aside.
<p>Our guide had suggested that we imagine the noise of the freeway as the sound of the ocean, instead; which, oddly enough, sort of works. He encouraged us to take in more of the world around us—advice that would certainly have benefited a certain grumpy old man. Our guide even shared a few magnifying glasses for getting a closer look at small things along the trail. Our group was clearly a mix of art lovers and nature lovers, and I was surprised at how engaged everyone was.</p>
<p>What I didn't expect from this event was to be culturally enriched. The artist focused on the techniques used to create the work, insisting that she doesn't work conceptually. But the people around me were adept at teasing out themes that had seemed hidden to the artist herself.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVP_sd6s8wZxbMiOvkqfxuWNskL4COQQAinwpsUrQsUdkZjqtVa4WfK0zrSmL8kgErViKGgexs_izUBRwuZFNSGrw7j_4aoo_NmKEoMxEWYOKhZjirMJS-Zaxk7ijYPUxOA6T4R4ST1ev2wsUJsqYff4fVpYWQ46QBrVvsHgYPgE8hw8eY4WX_hUVNofU/s800/PXL_20240113_194132267.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="611" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVP_sd6s8wZxbMiOvkqfxuWNskL4COQQAinwpsUrQsUdkZjqtVa4WfK0zrSmL8kgErViKGgexs_izUBRwuZFNSGrw7j_4aoo_NmKEoMxEWYOKhZjirMJS-Zaxk7ijYPUxOA6T4R4ST1ev2wsUJsqYff4fVpYWQ46QBrVvsHgYPgE8hw8eY4WX_hUVNofU/s320/PXL_20240113_194132267.jpg"/></a></div>I wasn't the only one who saw a deeper meaning in <i>The Wood</i>, featuring a colorless, transparent outline of a woman in high heels striding toward, and merging with, a vibrant natural landscape.
<p>A poem by Wendell Berry (<i><a href="https://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=2386" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">The Peace of Wild Things</a></i>) was placed next to one of the works.</p>
<blockquote align=center>
For a time<br>
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
</blockquote>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0106 E Main St, Los Gatos, CA 95030, USA37.2207187 -121.97927098.9104848638211536 -157.13552090000002 65.530952536178845 -86.8230209tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-68576305310920042002024-01-11T19:55:00.000-08:002024-01-11T19:55:33.835-08:00A Hopeful HitchhikerWhen the rain was falling again last night around 9 p.m., I fully expected that I would not join my companions for today's outing, having no desire to ride on slick roads.
<p>Much to my surprise, the roads had largely dried by the time I woke up. It was also 34°F. [No excuses. Get dressed!]</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgGoQSEMf6TjfSoSnL7KnmfGkePv8K1o7K12wl4FjvMC2XmOJ_Hccum-LV9x5c3eGGVjjQODlBQ248mAcVl89rjTkI4B5Q62CR5nuhLW7Xb_LKkDhnKaleSPe6YTiQbi3Clw-LRh34FNtM3yU1faK_geICeNvqWAhO_5eGg2bv0UIF_v_BUJcFzuolyQ/s800/PXL_20240111_175816581.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgGoQSEMf6TjfSoSnL7KnmfGkePv8K1o7K12wl4FjvMC2XmOJ_Hccum-LV9x5c3eGGVjjQODlBQ248mAcVl89rjTkI4B5Q62CR5nuhLW7Xb_LKkDhnKaleSPe6YTiQbi3Clw-LRh34FNtM3yU1faK_geICeNvqWAhO_5eGg2bv0UIF_v_BUJcFzuolyQ/s320/PXL_20240111_175816581.jpg"/></a></div>Wisely, our leader changed the plan for today's ride, rather than risk slip-sliding across black ice on a frosty back road. [Ice, in the Bay Area? Yes, it happens.]
<p>Luckily I glanced down at the bag on my rear rack before we took off: There was a (rather sluggish) yellowjacket! Perhaps clinging to the dark surface for some warmth? I certainly didn't expect to see one of these out on cold winter morning.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQx0vTINT4rQ8J3Bch5jplv0_cs3fjLGIhVWrbElU9wboab4LyQpv7bNhF_BbIx1m-W14QTB1KexmDpdHxCGvJl4fv5WlyO1-J3u63OoKwm9Kyp6zWUAOL2_r2Cot9NzM7-PoFeX5nfH5vDlLaKqir01lztytEwcuAJldPZj5ZXA6FkvN_DnmNWMLly2g/s800/PXL_20240111_181123458.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQx0vTINT4rQ8J3Bch5jplv0_cs3fjLGIhVWrbElU9wboab4LyQpv7bNhF_BbIx1m-W14QTB1KexmDpdHxCGvJl4fv5WlyO1-J3u63OoKwm9Kyp6zWUAOL2_r2Cot9NzM7-PoFeX5nfH5vDlLaKqir01lztytEwcuAJldPZj5ZXA6FkvN_DnmNWMLly2g/s320/PXL_20240111_181123458.jpg"/></a></div>Sorry, I couldn't bring my little friend along for the ride—I'd rather not be stung unexpectedly, especially in the rear. More to the point, I'd simply rather not be stung <i>at all</i>. I coaxed the critter onto a twig and gently relocated it near some plants.
<p>When we reached our coffee stop, I decided that a chocolate croissant fit the bill. It was still warm, the chocolate gooey!</p>
<p>I must say, I'm liking this routine: 29 miles, good conversation, and an indulgent treat.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Almaden Lake Park, 6099 Winfield Blvd, San Jose, CA 95120, USA37.2407967 -121.87159528.9305628638211516 -157.0278452 65.551030536178843 -86.7153452tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-72762360652876932024-01-08T18:49:00.000-08:002024-01-10T22:06:23.281-08:00Hello KittyIt's rained, on and off, over the past few weeks. It doesn't take much for the grasses to start popping up, turning the hills green.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLA8kbh8suYl6gpjPjvVRsEIOT6tSZqAVS8IfN82pQpUYpOOwRlxpGMsOO9a0RMrc2tuvm81C3BovbaxKRpXrR5PDdxOlvcfDnyHwMCWqW8vij9RYDh5kSe9Xa1R16KYHpi_4ajHL5Fx-k2_iulNggf1qoVcoBA1weQ5BXF3O1OAtvQAxz5rnQrDHqgY/s800/PXL_20240108_183546463.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLA8kbh8suYl6gpjPjvVRsEIOT6tSZqAVS8IfN82pQpUYpOOwRlxpGMsOO9a0RMrc2tuvm81C3BovbaxKRpXrR5PDdxOlvcfDnyHwMCWqW8vij9RYDh5kSe9Xa1R16KYHpi_4ajHL5Fx-k2_iulNggf1qoVcoBA1weQ5BXF3O1OAtvQAxz5rnQrDHqgY/s320/PXL_20240108_183546463.jpg"/></a></div>The day was clear (and chilly). When we started hiking, I was surprised how many ground squirrels were scampering about. No hawks overhead, missing out on an easy feast.
<p>Our group was busy chatting when a ranger caught our attention. “Shhh,” she waved. “Bobcat!” she whispered.
<p>We stopped in our tracks and saw the skulking feline pass through some scrub, and then were lucky enough to watch it after we rounded a bend.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKcbowhhuTeaCKt5U3k45MoR4HgzFlP1K3DDwUSt7vc19tN2gjAEOj9LX6nN8VMh9gMQ-rYcA7p34XZZPHPQpAoDxA-ogg8uL0NiUq3YSBlNWjscv5ceUGfQ1egue29JZfQT2K0tLSbodPrvY-RDklN2tWkoGksSQcsk2sKBaZixDgj8If-ot7ZpmDbI/s800/PXL_20240108_183206278.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKcbowhhuTeaCKt5U3k45MoR4HgzFlP1K3DDwUSt7vc19tN2gjAEOj9LX6nN8VMh9gMQ-rYcA7p34XZZPHPQpAoDxA-ogg8uL0NiUq3YSBlNWjscv5ceUGfQ1egue29JZfQT2K0tLSbodPrvY-RDklN2tWkoGksSQcsk2sKBaZixDgj8If-ot7ZpmDbI/s320/PXL_20240108_183206278.jpg"/></a></div>Indifferent to our presence on the trail above, the cat was hunting the rodents. None were in sight there; maybe they knew enough to hunker down in their holes just then.
<p>The ranger had also alerted us to another creature we'd encounter: photographers were on the hunt, and she asked that we not share where we'd seen the cat. She was irritated with them for venturing off the trails. “Mum's the word,” I nodded.</p>
<p>We crossed paths with two small groups. “What are you photographing?“ I asked. “Bobcats!” they replied. “Oh, good luck!” I smiled.</p>
<p>One had the biggest camera lens I'd ever seen, covered with a camouflage pattern. “How much does that weigh?“ I inquired, thinking I would be loath to hike any distance with such a rig. Not understanding my question, he replied “Twenty thousand.” [As in, <i>dollars</i>. Not what I asked but ... <i>whoa</i>.]</p>
<p>We saw another bobcat before we completed our <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/142893600?privacy_code=XuWoil29K1p4kUuJMaGW8XBdS3QDdIaK" target="_blank">4.6-mile trek</a>; odds are that the photographers got the shots they sought (far superior to mine). It was a thrill to watch the cats in action, compared with the fleeting glimpses I've caught over the years.</p>
<p>We chose this hike because the trails are exposed, lots of sunshine (and little mud) on a chilly day. The bobcats were an unexpected bonus.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Sierra Vista Open Space Preserve, Sierra Rd, San Jose, CA 95127, USA37.4091663 -121.8016089.0989324638211571 -156.957858 65.719400136178848 -86.645358tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-1323998381783562012024-01-04T20:39:00.000-08:002024-01-07T19:56:32.860-08:00Plenty of SunshineMy last rose of the season:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcez1mAaKobfySPBL9JJPtGYxVSNUyivRd6BnLdE7um4tz8YitZ762F1bpsEU9v87qLjXVotCMB03kqH4g8H8TUdCz8hmNh-UuzrNXjHYKa1tGLZXXpn1ZB0ykG_IrtiKcEBvHWCGgoIxJkw-5RAAnIi8-zSDmNmhtyzGG6LjmGNX3oWs5AtCUoOGKOx8/s800/PXL_20240102_223134818.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcez1mAaKobfySPBL9JJPtGYxVSNUyivRd6BnLdE7um4tz8YitZ762F1bpsEU9v87qLjXVotCMB03kqH4g8H8TUdCz8hmNh-UuzrNXjHYKa1tGLZXXpn1ZB0ykG_IrtiKcEBvHWCGgoIxJkw-5RAAnIi8-zSDmNmhtyzGG6LjmGNX3oWs5AtCUoOGKOx8/s320/PXL_20240102_223134818.PORTRAIT.jpg"/></a></div>My cycling pals are hardy souls, undaunted by the morning chill. I have the right winter gear; but left to my own devices, I would have opted for an early-afternoon ride.
<p>I explored a detour to avoid an underpass on the Los Gatos Creek Trail that always made me nervous; last time I rode there, two cyclists came barreling down the other side (around a blind corner), just as I'd always feared. <i>Survey says:</i> The detour is worth it.</p>
<p>Our intrepid leader meandered through some neighborhoods I'd never visited before now (and others that were all too familiar, part of my former bike-to-work route). Amazingly, there is a house that is <i>still</i> under construction on one of those streets—for more than 11 years. (Google's Streetview images show it was likely early 2011 when the previous structure burned, and construction was underway in 2013.)</p>
<p>After lingering over our coffees and tea at the end of the ride, I tried a different route home (suggested by one of our group). <i>Too. Much. Traffic.</i> Won't try that one again.</p>
<p>Thirty-one miles for the day, and my first camellia bloom of the season:</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href ="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi395IdNSkATzngd0FCJxY-va7bXBYF5xak8L4xPnpBNXquVRJkYC212tU2_TUj1Kh3_qrfs4mJ9D-dk-cI-JWx9jP4jlvqaIQE4uKvLERld0EdqYa2WSF7ubxeRadEYId7R-6xG2BvMzzRQKr8P1sHf-g0_kj2Zy5o_Z_BhOW6hmR1rI1tTb5BqwBtjtQ/s800/PXL_20240102_232058713.PORTRAIT.ORIGINAL.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi395IdNSkATzngd0FCJxY-va7bXBYF5xak8L4xPnpBNXquVRJkYC212tU2_TUj1Kh3_qrfs4mJ9D-dk-cI-JWx9jP4jlvqaIQE4uKvLERld0EdqYa2WSF7ubxeRadEYId7R-6xG2BvMzzRQKr8P1sHf-g0_kj2Zy5o_Z_BhOW6hmR1rI1tTb5BqwBtjtQ/s320/PXL_20240102_232058713.PORTRAIT.ORIGINAL.jpg"/></a></div><a href="https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/3473739/James+Baskett/Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">My, oh, my, what a wonderful day!</a>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0349 E Campbell Ave, Campbell, CA 95008, USA37.2871612 -121.94373948.9769273638211544 -157.0999894 65.597395036178852 -86.7874894tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-17252003698100889482024-01-01T18:16:00.000-08:002024-01-06T18:16:28.149-08:00Happy New Year?One clear sign of New Year's Resolutions: Unfamiliar faces out for a jog.
<p>As for me, well, January 1st seemed like a splendid day for a bike ride—once it warmed up.</p>
<p>Circling back, my plan was to include a short stretch of trail alongside Almaden Lake.</p>
<p><i>Surprise!</i> The park was closed and gated off, which explained why I'd noticed the trail was empty on my outbound pass. It seemed a shame for such a popular park to be off-limits on a beautiful day that surely would have drawn many visitors. Happy New Year (not) from the city of San Jose!</p>
<p>First road debris of 2024:</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1nF9pV3QGcz0kcx0jH-DC5TL4dVEPNlaG_-KjJStY4ZErnUlS37ktzaXLKWH1r8LHc8-JdA8JtypYUdPc93BizXaRV3yTHJmuNQfl3bsdsoJreboMIIXu00yRYlw6harsOYUrJyLzJlNYGc_rvX9BEsimsyzjf1RMdtcjmE6NQac2C0_IHBQsHUXTL4/s800/PXL_20240102_001349515.PORTRAIT.ORIGINAL.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="A very large bolt, and a screw." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1nF9pV3QGcz0kcx0jH-DC5TL4dVEPNlaG_-KjJStY4ZErnUlS37ktzaXLKWH1r8LHc8-JdA8JtypYUdPc93BizXaRV3yTHJmuNQfl3bsdsoJreboMIIXu00yRYlw6harsOYUrJyLzJlNYGc_rvX9BEsimsyzjf1RMdtcjmE6NQac2C0_IHBQsHUXTL4/w241-h320/PXL_20240102_001349515.PORTRAIT.ORIGINAL.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>To the motorists whose tires were spared: <i>You're welcome.</i>
<p>Looking for a bright spot, I extened my loop (29 miles) to Vasona Lake County Park, which was open for all to enjoy. The Fantasy of Lights fixtures are still in place. Herewith, my hopeful wish for 2024:</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVZTTH1m8zTHHWuVFyNyRWa2UGKRpiVK8v7tK3OoJbUPmjGcQztRCMtakSeESrqQmSJeQNtgzqcalOm-bi4iBitT7h9SNeeqUtZ1AbQll7591HjM6Qh74uXjZthR55VA2guYKJGJmtu23W-ESq_jX7m8v9LfsQ31-sGjPtywmugGboRCkVJq96gXGJY5U/s800/PXL_20240101_235853680.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="PEACE ON EARTH" border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="800" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVZTTH1m8zTHHWuVFyNyRWa2UGKRpiVK8v7tK3OoJbUPmjGcQztRCMtakSeESrqQmSJeQNtgzqcalOm-bi4iBitT7h9SNeeqUtZ1AbQll7591HjM6Qh74uXjZthR55VA2guYKJGJmtu23W-ESq_jX7m8v9LfsQ31-sGjPtywmugGboRCkVJq96gXGJY5U/w320-h184/PXL_20240101_235853680.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Vasona Lake County Park, 333 Blossom Hill Rd, Los Gatos, CA 95032, USA37.2361375 -121.97243618.9259036638211526 -157.12868609999998 65.546371336178851 -86.8161861tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-45471571037041886762023-12-31T19:44:00.000-08:002024-01-05T20:39:50.086-08:00The Year That . . .I stopped working. <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/01/fungible-tokens.html" target="_blank">Abruptly</a>.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY90sm3fGdZdAFuKU2hTG6UmzbBMRnEmFO0tAS_DCZLDxsGv2uJciDZSYqeyW2-0ogLqUhjuuoa2tHRIiQhKjZglzcWZkZp9_qDYuOagEx9Wj9mOvSHhVjuP0APk3206xYmwYQgEVWumpd6LRtwbTaSdNiPkyyAMDFOuDJ0nsGIyGLR6zmPNRsPS4Bg0M/s800/PXL_20231204_230514589.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY90sm3fGdZdAFuKU2hTG6UmzbBMRnEmFO0tAS_DCZLDxsGv2uJciDZSYqeyW2-0ogLqUhjuuoa2tHRIiQhKjZglzcWZkZp9_qDYuOagEx9Wj9mOvSHhVjuP0APk3206xYmwYQgEVWumpd6LRtwbTaSdNiPkyyAMDFOuDJ0nsGIyGLR6zmPNRsPS4Bg0M/s320/PXL_20231204_230514589.jpg"/></a></div>I cycled more than 2,200 miles, climbing over 70,000 feet, on 85 rides.
<p>I visited <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/04/checking-out-chico.html" target="_blank">Chico</a> for the first time, to enjoy their <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/04/biking-to-paradise.html" target="_blank">Wildflower</a> bike event.</p>
<p>I raised money for Best Buddies and biked in the California Challenge (formerly Hearst Castle Challenge), for the <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/10/ride-together.html" target="_blank">17th consecutive year</a>. I also raised money and <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/09/day-two-too.html" target="_blank">rode</a> in the MS Society's Waves to Wine event (for the first time since 2006).</p>
<p>I contibuted my time to six volunteer opportunities, mostly outdoors.</p>
<p>I completed 41 hikes, trekking more than 200 (mostly hilly) miles in regional (and state) parks and preserves.</p>
<p>I shared so many of these adventures with a widening circle of friends, and <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/08/b-is-for-bob.html" target="_blank">honored the memory</a> of two that we <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/06/honoring-steve.html" target="_blank">lost</a>.</p>
<p>I explored the natural world at a deeper level, becoming an enthusiastic member of the global <a href="https://www.inaturalist.org/" target="_blank">iNaturalist</a> community.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ8cfxQwjhNhrD-2VTa97Lc9CjSlXQaCo7rOxx4gC3yaePVTh8yrtcIi0PBjyi967NNlxXN8PtEXjO22WzD8KPpMC3_QiAP9MpMx2SJjM_1pz98QPHzKJ1ACaw-q7ZqcWUwzwIXaq_EZr9YcIK97KXjIWrEB3emWz-B6KW2NVjGcZDMtWsIjG5Is86Gic/s556/2023-iNaturalist-pep.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="556" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ8cfxQwjhNhrD-2VTa97Lc9CjSlXQaCo7rOxx4gC3yaePVTh8yrtcIi0PBjyi967NNlxXN8PtEXjO22WzD8KPpMC3_QiAP9MpMx2SJjM_1pz98QPHzKJ1ACaw-q7ZqcWUwzwIXaq_EZr9YcIK97KXjIWrEB3emWz-B6KW2NVjGcZDMtWsIjG5Is86Gic/s320/2023-iNaturalist-pep.jpg"/></a></div>The year that was . . . 2023.pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0San Francisco Bay Area, CA, USA37.8271784 -122.29130789.5169445638211556 -157.4475578 66.137412236178847 -87.1350578tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-81714391225640107272023-12-26T20:18:00.000-08:002024-01-01T21:40:32.616-08:00Wilder RanchOur hike was well-timed, today: we had a spell of sunshine on the coast.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaMvRj1f9B1yZTeX-fggxXYgytd9SMlMNOJpJhfmrSzc-J6PjTNTHLl21p4ynZg1Hbyzfbexq8831HUf2KXPdbi_ZX6LSet6TeTxkztV46g-jPxVA3RfzOqwt5zoIXwhhE3S44mw7OAQW_xcjfVpS0_GR1SLtZ31Uddql1HwXteMGfYTcPJLBPwidmc8/s800/PXL_20231226_194312518.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaMvRj1f9B1yZTeX-fggxXYgytd9SMlMNOJpJhfmrSzc-J6PjTNTHLl21p4ynZg1Hbyzfbexq8831HUf2KXPdbi_ZX6LSet6TeTxkztV46g-jPxVA3RfzOqwt5zoIXwhhE3S44mw7OAQW_xcjfVpS0_GR1SLtZ31Uddql1HwXteMGfYTcPJLBPwidmc8/s320/PXL_20231226_194312518.jpg"/></a></div>
For me, this was a great opportunity to explore new terrain; unlike my hiking buddy, it was my first visit to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilder_Ranch_State_Park" target="_blank">Wilder Ranch State Park</a>. It often feels like the entire population of Silicon Valley migrates to Santa Cruz most weekends, making it one of the <i>last</i> places I want to be. And although we've had a tradition of hiking on Christmas Day for a few years, this time we opted for the day after.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzx5QRMdGZmIjjf60xBR4xCPLh9OJ0rjz2jhiSLT0MvOtnoLTkHYLpuuh0BnSMIw4pXI_YoGAGqAYB0jT92HqXgES16t5QiZKc_oFEoIiVtayT9XAYJGUufROtqZpFsOHHo7_x8kgmZhbqrfOksBVymEq8t2lVtDgWc4qUdPzZcAGeRTlmYobfs-_2Y8/s800/PXL_20231226_195914612.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzx5QRMdGZmIjjf60xBR4xCPLh9OJ0rjz2jhiSLT0MvOtnoLTkHYLpuuh0BnSMIw4pXI_YoGAGqAYB0jT92HqXgES16t5QiZKc_oFEoIiVtayT9XAYJGUufROtqZpFsOHHo7_x8kgmZhbqrfOksBVymEq8t2lVtDgWc4qUdPzZcAGeRTlmYobfs-_2Y8/s320/PXL_20231226_195914612.jpg"/></a></div>Harbor seals hauled out to snooze on a sunny, secluded beach. Two memorable creatures were ones we couldn't see: well-hidden frogs, croaking away, and a burrowing owl (spotted by some birders with binoculars and a camera with a very long lens).
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr31djpYPhCJsZmogTSZ7qs7N0MlwBdG4C8RuQ8PqAPFuP5XdMPuV8ZjW3b_DC4uXFsxqaOmWgxQktZ6IHjpnth_7MqfPld1OpoDSiXVZx_8RYENBGl3LkI4MZNQt98DHVS2ZqZmXL982s55OeBbH3dMacVJ149f7pNi81LQTeIUyBsHUfhmIZA-ggfk/s800/PXL_20231226_192924834.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr31djpYPhCJsZmogTSZ7qs7N0MlwBdG4C8RuQ8PqAPFuP5XdMPuV8ZjW3b_DC4uXFsxqaOmWgxQktZ6IHjpnth_7MqfPld1OpoDSiXVZx_8RYENBGl3LkI4MZNQt98DHVS2ZqZmXL982s55OeBbH3dMacVJ149f7pNi81LQTeIUyBsHUfhmIZA-ggfk/s320/PXL_20231226_192924834.jpg"/></a></div>We were aware of warnings about high seas and rogue waves. Water puddling high on a cliff is the ocean's “don't stand here” sign. Had I been more savvy, I could have captured the moment when a young couple got completely drenched by the spray from a big wave that slammed into the wall of rock. <i>The look on their faces ...</i> They were good sports, though; she wrung out her long hair and they kept hiking.
<p>The cormorants were unperturbed on their private perch.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHb8PGsu4JxTrag3UoP7Z92vMC1zqn0ujJKykYM-x66T5J2b7VxQ0U2nbLa94FwseV8OZAnUbZD39XNNDEhi-IFo-LRmZ-z7O2l9XgbqtBQzoYmqGa8agsLSA73boCEK-KOFNIjqkSuAcs57rdfUbSeO5heZM3ZdT0AwnkKcdoecclInO60fqZe3QTT-A/s800/PXL_20231226_205228071.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHb8PGsu4JxTrag3UoP7Z92vMC1zqn0ujJKykYM-x66T5J2b7VxQ0U2nbLa94FwseV8OZAnUbZD39XNNDEhi-IFo-LRmZ-z7O2l9XgbqtBQzoYmqGa8agsLSA73boCEK-KOFNIjqkSuAcs57rdfUbSeO5heZM3ZdT0AwnkKcdoecclInO60fqZe3QTT-A/s320/PXL_20231226_205228071.jpg"/></a></div>Ah, California! Something is always blooming. As the day's palette filled with shades of gray, the colorful (but sadly, invasive) <a href="https://www.cal-ipc.org/plants/profile/delairea-odorata-profile/" target="_blank">Cape-Ivy</a> was our sunshine.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjdMnX-Uy-atIZeKsG3Y6-_c6DnL8eYR88uAUP0xm0gfuEkMUuFo_GuOYcoyCN4uFQ16Bs3TmL0ZuRLymgg38T51xEA4svJ9fNc_opXMpJmL-Yo5C8nmBW125A2l9SvKAXEqBZKp76xE3zbzdJfKc3x1TnlBnFjSkN7vXOLvYXGfTHekJiE2t8_KBsWQ/s800/PXL_20231226_205742111.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjdMnX-Uy-atIZeKsG3Y6-_c6DnL8eYR88uAUP0xm0gfuEkMUuFo_GuOYcoyCN4uFQ16Bs3TmL0ZuRLymgg38T51xEA4svJ9fNc_opXMpJmL-Yo5C8nmBW125A2l9SvKAXEqBZKp76xE3zbzdJfKc3x1TnlBnFjSkN7vXOLvYXGfTHekJiE2t8_KBsWQ/s320/PXL_20231226_205742111.jpg"/></a></div>I managed to uproot an entire invasive mustard plant, earning “<i>good job!</i>” from an understanding cyclist as he passed. With only a few scattered along the trail, it felt like there's a fair chance of fighting it off.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTsAJNPtiWAsfAjXil3U9J5hju5T4hSSCmOSCJ95GpyclbeWjcSQvecb_xnR9ujaSfqflqxPP_Gh8FXgWBZe9rmPuHHSn5QjobzX3iilQDcF15vkEaTZNBUoEXLioY2ECDJvZrjKQpMqzqCc7vdO_3U2Kq8e0KpFKlIOCgjq_2itRDNJu_a6PPfCm-cs/s800/PXL_20231226_222932153.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTsAJNPtiWAsfAjXil3U9J5hju5T4hSSCmOSCJ95GpyclbeWjcSQvecb_xnR9ujaSfqflqxPP_Gh8FXgWBZe9rmPuHHSn5QjobzX3iilQDcF15vkEaTZNBUoEXLioY2ECDJvZrjKQpMqzqCc7vdO_3U2Kq8e0KpFKlIOCgjq_2itRDNJu_a6PPfCm-cs/s320/PXL_20231226_222932153.jpg"/></a></div>Retracing our path to the parking lot, we covered a healthy <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/142000295?privacy_code=Kv5A1b9Uvfv2FZhiqsMhhwkR6LNNmkgl" target="_blank">7.2 miles</a>. A word of thanks to my hiking companion for her indulgence as I snapped so many photos (57 distinct plants and animals and mushrooms, oh my!). Of all, we agreed that the aptly festive <a href="https://bugguide.net/node/view/185043" target="_blank">Willow Apple Gall Sawfly</a> was the strangest:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCSrbY5hz2MYRJf4DDrrmHwPRRgJohp3rJ4twiN8HLb6bXaxIpPn_RepQQa2bXRiLH9a-f-9eDRZlEhaMDgxz905cmB5zGkL1iGNLNFjdnpVOUpSxuifMRJfBEfRxbbgUQ0aXHixz2z1-9vCC6LmO6bTJsSEzoewEnVDwEX5uTBTc2pRwcIlLeOKgKdaA/s800/PXL_20231226_201515070.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCSrbY5hz2MYRJf4DDrrmHwPRRgJohp3rJ4twiN8HLb6bXaxIpPn_RepQQa2bXRiLH9a-f-9eDRZlEhaMDgxz905cmB5zGkL1iGNLNFjdnpVOUpSxuifMRJfBEfRxbbgUQ0aXHixz2z1-9vCC6LmO6bTJsSEzoewEnVDwEX5uTBTc2pRwcIlLeOKgKdaA/s320/PXL_20231226_201515070.jpg"/></a></div>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Wilder Ranch State Park, 1401 Coast Rd, Santa Cruz, CA 95060, USA36.9608175 -122.08336628.650583663821152 -157.2396162 65.271051336178843 -86.9271162tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-58956199866637444542023-12-23T20:14:00.000-08:002023-12-30T20:16:10.656-08:00Nature LessonWhen a friend suggested we hike at the <a href="https://www.openspace.org/preserves/picchetti-ranch" target="_blank">Picchetti Ranch Open Space Preserve</a> today, I hesitated. <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/12/just-right.html" target="_blank">So soon, again?</a> But this outing (<a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/141737456?privacy_code=cJdv8Q7SdMMWMMSie8V5Fw5ziktTlWY1" target="_blank">4.4 miles</a>) would be led by docent naturalists and include some terrain I hadn't explored before.
<p>We enjoyed beautiful weather, a break between rain storms. Low clouds dotted the valley, to the east.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpy8fBp7C9TeI7C4l0sCo595ABA2bz93SooWTX-Ll-KF7zN4z0XL5Rg7eVLymxzNkUdvMXJN1y7_qecYhfWQFyP-09eWv9Dpkrgjal-WW35QAYMS5qspYSkbFzKuVWO0wmt1htXsj0hGdpmnTguG6yTDqqEXPuGewlcHdT5VT4H4CN874wgqKnqZ0uq4/s800/PXL_20231223_182103608.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpy8fBp7C9TeI7C4l0sCo595ABA2bz93SooWTX-Ll-KF7zN4z0XL5Rg7eVLymxzNkUdvMXJN1y7_qecYhfWQFyP-09eWv9Dpkrgjal-WW35QAYMS5qspYSkbFzKuVWO0wmt1htXsj0hGdpmnTguG6yTDqqEXPuGewlcHdT5VT4H4CN874wgqKnqZ0uq4/s320/PXL_20231223_182103608.jpg"/></a></div>When the docents paused next to an impressive mound of sticks, I knew what was coming: a story about the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dusky-footed_woodrat" target="_blank">dusky-footed woodrat</a>. This nest was larger than others I've seen; a casual observer might assume it was constructed by a human, or some other mammal certainly larger than a rat.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja53rBC1ciMpXUkr3-A0PLOTTQeJ5rardW1gq7d0JMsBTxWQduyx738EH4UWVDHn2z38adJyM0IxICTlYMhdhDxgwIzjxZgweyWN8bRg1XFaapGhOGvsYg24vZyRp3x8q-AMtpFzBsvfFF4Gcyjf_UG4A28pSmiLZbpMfLWc4Wktc2Gyw4ELoiU-ws9hI/s800/PXL_20231223_182805734.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja53rBC1ciMpXUkr3-A0PLOTTQeJ5rardW1gq7d0JMsBTxWQduyx738EH4UWVDHn2z38adJyM0IxICTlYMhdhDxgwIzjxZgweyWN8bRg1XFaapGhOGvsYg24vZyRp3x8q-AMtpFzBsvfFF4Gcyjf_UG4A28pSmiLZbpMfLWc4Wktc2Gyw4ELoiU-ws9hI/s320/PXL_20231223_182805734.jpg"/></a></div>I've learned so much this year, hiking with docents and engaging with the <a href="https://www.inaturalist.org/" target="_blank">iNaturalist</a> community. Even though I'd trekked down the Zinfandel Trail just two weeks ago, today I saw things that I'd overlooked. And of course, plants follow their natural cycle throughout the year.
<p>As we hiked down the trail, I spotted some ferns that were freshly sprouting. When I paused to get a photo as we returned, a docent identified it as a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polypodium_vulgare" target="_blank">Polypody</a>. Taking a closer look, I realized it wasn't a type of fern I'd noticed before (much less, heard of).</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyU-hDvPE_UQOiVlXECAKlMRciXAnrRA7tVmnobIbm8pnel8PIdxfNDdSCYlLQFQYmBwX9oNGbxyVY7qgG8zWjRe-uC7S_7G7cpriDmK15-Hosel7GtG-KaOvt2Ywia5jzu7FJNKx3HiwV-W4mzRd1xqWg6fLMjBgrx-0aD_iNLwpBOr-T6ZfT4iwGGZE/s800/PXL_20231223_203450892.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyU-hDvPE_UQOiVlXECAKlMRciXAnrRA7tVmnobIbm8pnel8PIdxfNDdSCYlLQFQYmBwX9oNGbxyVY7qgG8zWjRe-uC7S_7G7cpriDmK15-Hosel7GtG-KaOvt2Ywia5jzu7FJNKx3HiwV-W4mzRd1xqWg6fLMjBgrx-0aD_iNLwpBOr-T6ZfT4iwGGZE/s320/PXL_20231223_203450892.jpg"/></a></div>That's the thing: To advance from registering “plant,” to “leafy green plant,” to “fern,” to ... <i>Polypody</i>. Yet, there is so much more in this one photo: another leafy plant (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Umbellularia" target="_blank">California bay laurel</a>) in the background, a bit of mushroom in the lower right corner, and moss carpeting a decaying log.
<p>One step at a time.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Picchetti Ranch Open Space Preserve, 13100 Montebello Rd, Cupertino, CA 95014, USA37.289656699999988 -122.08492648.9794228638211422 -157.2411764 65.599890536178833 -86.9286764tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-64867795206406788742023-12-10T19:53:00.000-08:002023-12-29T16:56:41.676-08:00Just RightAlthough we'd hiked just two weeks ago, and my former colleagues weren't expecting to plan a December hike, this date turned out to work well for many of them. <i>Really well.</i> I joined twelve people for a bite-sized hike (<a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/141425870?privacy_code=oArlohiAdpdeA7DD2amIrmmaLDxx84k8" target="_blank">4 miles</a>). Several were folks I hadn't seen in many months (or longer).
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZFn8rkLf5iww33IMbY1-VcHhkfa-h4q4JevBHSP272OnykZOcH05mOTR6206ntOFzjHJgyf_Zb9RtUlHdGzCMH0oEYxEOPvZyaaEzYw0dDAw5WC1OlmqSAPX3EDv2gNXZaUA26XEP75pPBfSLENLvRQmpGGq8R1SmfnTohpUTiN-NmaH0xHSWhDpib3k/s800/PXL_20231210_194839480.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZFn8rkLf5iww33IMbY1-VcHhkfa-h4q4JevBHSP272OnykZOcH05mOTR6206ntOFzjHJgyf_Zb9RtUlHdGzCMH0oEYxEOPvZyaaEzYw0dDAw5WC1OlmqSAPX3EDv2gNXZaUA26XEP75pPBfSLENLvRQmpGGq8R1SmfnTohpUTiN-NmaH0xHSWhDpib3k/s320/PXL_20231210_194839480.jpg"/></a></div>This hike is not too challenging—neither too long nor too short. The Zinfandel Trail descends gradually toward Stevens Creek, mostly under tree cover, and affords a clear view of the Stevens Creek Reservoir.
<p>When we returned to the historic <a href="https://www.picchetti.com/History" target="_blank">Picchetti Winery</a>, one of the resident peacocks was perched and preening. [Not something you would expect to encounter on a hike ... unless you've been here before.]
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaME6lk5Km1AERaZhDYqe3M0p-y9WyosQS_NiDZ4szNwXbm1-HV8VrSagup15qnhLtY8Tu7h3egDsGfnK6pTU3AY3M8wd8V0gRPSqV3dxOYdYgCIri_RiNMDYNqAIDewtuW9NwCy9sQQ7wcy11nvi9hck_8pSAAZ1UFqxNxyZIlUsHSJbyWYG28GlC6U/s800/PXL_20231210_202229474.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaME6lk5Km1AERaZhDYqe3M0p-y9WyosQS_NiDZ4szNwXbm1-HV8VrSagup15qnhLtY8Tu7h3egDsGfnK6pTU3AY3M8wd8V0gRPSqV3dxOYdYgCIri_RiNMDYNqAIDewtuW9NwCy9sQQ7wcy11nvi9hck_8pSAAZ1UFqxNxyZIlUsHSJbyWYG28GlC6U/s320/PXL_20231210_202229474.jpg"/></a></div>It was a joy to be reunited again! For many years, we were a tight team; some moved on (by choice, or not). Now we hike together, volunteer together: hopefully for many years to come.pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Picchetti Ranch Open Space Preserve, 13100 Montebello Rd, Cupertino, CA 95014, USA37.289656699999988 -122.08492648.9794228638211422 -157.2411764 65.599890536178833 -86.9286764tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-248262318531887782023-11-26T21:15:00.000-08:002023-12-28T19:44:00.730-08:00Revisiting the RedwoodsThere were only four of us today, but one had made the trip from San Francisco to trek through the redwood forest with us!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLO4U0AlWs4dnakbYjkAw9mwFlmFP-yledUJDjYwCOaIsCyx5_oSYFbp9NDO4spAP1wNzgsWtJkKsj2LWDjda_asdzcBJvyafKn-BQz8e_TMG-rvCV2J55LLDkpjo5jf-nIIjozqBBEGSArUeHHdcRCavTZgM3DK37rlODdDS-Rr_qlH03gAanz8pX4I/s800/PXL_20231126_222217305.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLO4U0AlWs4dnakbYjkAw9mwFlmFP-yledUJDjYwCOaIsCyx5_oSYFbp9NDO4spAP1wNzgsWtJkKsj2LWDjda_asdzcBJvyafKn-BQz8e_TMG-rvCV2J55LLDkpjo5jf-nIIjozqBBEGSArUeHHdcRCavTZgM3DK37rlODdDS-Rr_qlH03gAanz8pX4I/s320/PXL_20231126_222217305.jpg"/></a></div>We enjoyed colorful leaves on the valley oaks (and no mist) this time of year.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhdMsybSLYxHI2I5XNMzTkkJRqphlwqLaeiw2KtHh_GtvEcftCGGkc5D7pER0T9Ddu-jSdgdvc0K1k3gliSonRXjS_jgW6TYIRZ4pPTbkf1hwSGMYM7taiWRmuT_60CSNAn_WRKjRoRZ1QS8_or5BiUpkpTPh2i8osInueklgJzZm7DaKXMV8r3dumDE/s800/PXL_20231127_000738257.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhdMsybSLYxHI2I5XNMzTkkJRqphlwqLaeiw2KtHh_GtvEcftCGGkc5D7pER0T9Ddu-jSdgdvc0K1k3gliSonRXjS_jgW6TYIRZ4pPTbkf1hwSGMYM7taiWRmuT_60CSNAn_WRKjRoRZ1QS8_or5BiUpkpTPh2i8osInueklgJzZm7DaKXMV8r3dumDE/s320/PXL_20231127_000738257.jpg"/></a></div>Someone had a little fun with the sawed end of a fallen tree!
<p>I was surprised when our group was game to extend our planned hike (same loop <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2023/08/redwoods-in-mist.html" target="_blank">I'd hiked a few months ago</a>) to continue to the summit. That added quite a bit more uphill (plus 2 miles). We were disappointed not to be rewarded with a scenic view at the top. [Oh well.] Now I know.</p>
<p>I <i>was</i> “rewarded” with blisters on the bottom of both pinky toes. Maybe wool socks aren't the best choice for a long hike?</p>
<p>Daylight was fading and the moon rising as we made our way back to the parking lot. I was surprised when a few people passed us, heading up the trail so late.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0XTldkjSgH9vPzjer-3jX7rNPK9wNi2w6xQ750sCPrafipmXPF87ezInfsm1RkOsBHIohyNX0EdXaM4HlJPm-sH3h_cStZHYQZWg_mgfTw6_kssSpSP07uOk53zn2FcljK3RubWQUDWMXYjgpuOn3cV5nJ0oT6W_r8kldE0Rl-VBRecJPxJkhCoKUt0/s800/PXL_20231127_005231879.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0XTldkjSgH9vPzjer-3jX7rNPK9wNi2w6xQ750sCPrafipmXPF87ezInfsm1RkOsBHIohyNX0EdXaM4HlJPm-sH3h_cStZHYQZWg_mgfTw6_kssSpSP07uOk53zn2FcljK3RubWQUDWMXYjgpuOn3cV5nJ0oT6W_r8kldE0Rl-VBRecJPxJkhCoKUt0/s320/PXL_20231127_005231879.jpg"/></a></div>We'd made the most of our day (<a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/140310329?privacy_code=FJNGYLsqmB4PJM6FfkY9FaT2WnXW41Q2" target="_blank">7.4 miles</a> and plenty of good conversation): the gate was closed and the ranger onsite to account for the stragglers.
<p>Those blisters? Totally worth it.</p>
pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Bear Creek Redwoods Open Space Preserve, Los Gatos, CA 95033, USA37.1768821 -122.00755658.8666482638211548 -157.16380650000002 65.487115936178839 -86.8513065tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-63402178660707871722023-11-21T21:13:00.000-08:002023-12-02T21:05:08.879-08:00Turkey Trotters<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJIzFZZPf1ier_ogbe5cMYqn_wdFuG6oVFQQmF-BAn7Vg4orZvKz0-6Qtxbi34H0cNeiPuutPWZ7rUWVlauDIJO9JzF1IdibNQ-f1xoI3jLAErFUOhirweXmbkbwTJucHOfvL63vzLOK8PdypqENjnlYY96PxIiRIzArW_ElQorpSxihvoGO0qE4QX3ss/s800/PXL_20231121_215004811.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJIzFZZPf1ier_ogbe5cMYqn_wdFuG6oVFQQmF-BAn7Vg4orZvKz0-6Qtxbi34H0cNeiPuutPWZ7rUWVlauDIJO9JzF1IdibNQ-f1xoI3jLAErFUOhirweXmbkbwTJucHOfvL63vzLOK8PdypqENjnlYY96PxIiRIzArW_ElQorpSxihvoGO0qE4QX3ss/s320/PXL_20231121_215004811.jpg"/></a></div>This year marked the 19th annual edition of the <a href="https://www.svturkeytrot.com/" target="_blank">Silicon Valley Turkey Trot</a>, a fundraising Thanksgiving morning tradition. When I realized they needed volunteers in the days leading up to the event, I signed up for a weekday slot. Because, I can.
<p>I knew about this event, but had no idea how big it was: Fielding something like 21,000 participants entails distributing a lot of bibs (race numbers) in advance. And after so many years, the organizers were, well ... organized.</p>
<p>When two people were needed to staff a number look-up station and only one hand went up, I claimed the second spot. Good decision, as it turned out my partner had experience—same role, second volunteer shift.</p>
<p>People could also register at our station, and a few did. We were there to shepherd them through the sign-up process, if they got stuck. One woman explained that while she's normally part of a family group, there would be only two of them this year. “Will you be there?” she asked. No, I explained; I'm not a runner. “You could walk. Next year!”</p>
<p>True enough. The 5k would be easy.</p>
<p>Next year?</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com01177 Kern Ave, Sunnyvale, CA 94085, USA37.383054 -121.9968069.0728201638211559 -157.153056 65.693287836178854 -86.840556tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-54163072156193511032023-11-12T20:40:00.000-08:002023-11-30T11:08:58.858-08:00Be the ChangeI pulled into the parking lot where I would meet my friends, frowning as I passed three large pieces of litter. Well, I would take care of that in short order.
<p>Not wanting to touch the rumpled tshirt, I snagged it with my hiking poles. As I raised the lid on the nearest trash bin, one of the guys who had been loitering near his motorcycle approached with the other two items! I thanked him; he replied “Thank <i>you</i>, it's not even your trash!” I smiled. “I always try to leave a place cleaner than I found it.”</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD03j3hsJsfrPepMlC_jRNuA7fu0LanrnZRi7unJiRYHe4iJKF05gggO52HRVraBY0cxgkv6coT5SgbLFMzAtLdRc2YkiXwkVnJbm9epMVHzs9Lg8d1gOHO6TB9tR89cwufd6ShZ0L4SR1XApbrf1r585sOwSZV6s09ugpRtFkwPYUdRLAEwGn8nVq8tg/s800/PXL_20231112_221919111.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD03j3hsJsfrPepMlC_jRNuA7fu0LanrnZRi7unJiRYHe4iJKF05gggO52HRVraBY0cxgkv6coT5SgbLFMzAtLdRc2YkiXwkVnJbm9epMVHzs9Lg8d1gOHO6TB9tR89cwufd6ShZ0L4SR1XApbrf1r585sOwSZV6s09ugpRtFkwPYUdRLAEwGn8nVq8tg/s320/PXL_20231112_221919111.jpg"/></a></div>Not having hiked these trails until today, I was surprised to get a glimpse of Monterey Bay (blanketed in fog).
<p>Our trek would have been more peaceful on a weekday, I reckon. It's been years since I've biked up here on a weekend, and now ... I learned that I shouldn't. Sports cars and motorcycles driven by wanna-be racers evidently rule the road, with no enforcement in sight. Roaring engines made it challenging to hear anything else. And I don't think I've seen a discarded beer bottle along a trail—until now.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglhyphenhyphenpvsM5REgMsjtO4m9sntEqYbdVL7MhARMHpv6epEeE6KflzpODm4QGlBucH4xukXMKvoDiGgqv8FHVho_ra7JaVR1IKQ6lndPp1sizIjfO2puOz49zuN4UlQRjWVR8K77vLahSiexk0ndiSverUlLqBJoGk101ZYD-hbv4tFgxzDx_cg6czx_NOW_M/s800/PXL_20231112_232134575.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglhyphenhyphenpvsM5REgMsjtO4m9sntEqYbdVL7MhARMHpv6epEeE6KflzpODm4QGlBucH4xukXMKvoDiGgqv8FHVho_ra7JaVR1IKQ6lndPp1sizIjfO2puOz49zuN4UlQRjWVR8K77vLahSiexk0ndiSverUlLqBJoGk101ZYD-hbv4tFgxzDx_cg6czx_NOW_M/s320/PXL_20231112_232134575.jpg"/></a></div>My companions and beautiful weather made for a good hike <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/139433184?privacy_code=H7YxBECsOHWCGYotAMehGYZsAkY2SKYj" target="_blank">(4.7 miles)</a>, anyway.
<p>Yes, I carried out (and recycled) that bottle. [But not the Beetle.]</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Summit Meadows Trail, California 95006, USA37.246301 -122.13852359.7848339157310349 -157.29477350000002 64.707768084268963 -86.9822735tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-30681711643474533542023-11-10T21:48:00.000-08:002023-11-28T20:52:52.079-08:00San Juan BautistaI headed south with my chief biking buddy for a non-cycling adventure. Destination: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Juan_Bautista,_California" target="_blank">San Juan Bautista</a>.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HMdayHm0d65HRDcKwTBiPHx9bLjSfqSiSuSPx-rb6TNxtqJz0lPtfv1G3fV29a5nClkv4hX_hGXXvoCx5WsW5S5RPkBvmuSC6ABwRJSAcSKpQjyqqtu1A-6kXnYYgxLVCMmME2yjstxguyluEkTHY36yAR-rm5KlDcz30cWdTTQVi2u0jeOCvUGs5uw/s800/PXL_20231110_193643416.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HMdayHm0d65HRDcKwTBiPHx9bLjSfqSiSuSPx-rb6TNxtqJz0lPtfv1G3fV29a5nClkv4hX_hGXXvoCx5WsW5S5RPkBvmuSC6ABwRJSAcSKpQjyqqtu1A-6kXnYYgxLVCMmME2yjstxguyluEkTHY36yAR-rm5KlDcz30cWdTTQVi2u0jeOCvUGs5uw/s320/PXL_20231110_193643416.jpg"/></a></div>We took an unplanned detour out Salinas Road and San Juan Grade, having missed the turn for the trailhead we sought for the <a href="https://anzahistorictrail.org/" target="_blank">Juan Bautista De Anza National Historic Trail</a>. My buddy insisted (correctly, it turns out) that we had biked up that road. I had no memory of it, probably because I had been so <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2015/09/three-threes.html" target="_blank">unnerved by that day's stretch along Crazy Horse Canyon Road</a>. One thing is certain: the road is in no better shape now than it was in 2015.
<p>The trail was popular with local hikers and runners—likely more so now in the cooler weather than the heat of summer, given the lack of tree cover. The hills were golden and the sky was clear.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumfkv8vdNsIk3kRI2kqVCNOs0GMbf7FLN_CsYY5-2-5EDookS2V1UW4NAV_PlwNcvemQHvTgCvl4zJGMJwUMalC8Zqh8eLpZyNsG8Mg6ZHVGFU0AQ_4HCrr1v4ShMzYF-_CJhXeYaF8aqVLJEdRqoQdDUrKDk6rlY4VTg-gaTFQK-BPamxQLwiudwxxE/s800/PXL_20231110_201752488.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumfkv8vdNsIk3kRI2kqVCNOs0GMbf7FLN_CsYY5-2-5EDookS2V1UW4NAV_PlwNcvemQHvTgCvl4zJGMJwUMalC8Zqh8eLpZyNsG8Mg6ZHVGFU0AQ_4HCrr1v4ShMzYF-_CJhXeYaF8aqVLJEdRqoQdDUrKDk6rlY4VTg-gaTFQK-BPamxQLwiudwxxE/s320/PXL_20231110_201752488.jpg"/></a></div>There were many <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Junonia_grisea" target="_blank">Gray Buckeyes</a> fluttering about, no doubt searching for some nectar. Very few plants are blooming this late in the season, but there were a couple of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dipsacus_fullonum" target="_blank">fuller's teasels</a> hanging on—and the butterflies found them.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTtIHN-qQuRLrJKnNNh6Qw9YmMF1WL6UVdLRL7DcCAjYWTTG07NwhGbAj1L85HDkkwkEP-XyGN2DZVANErhN6DLgH5Tx2pnOjiYk7WxjMqTDEYeRrQZXZIW8WW4TULy6drDdHHlsdDAiiswDGRZIk6FK1Uk9FtN2w9AO7tjg5DvTR4mN6374U5qZMgfk/s800/PXL_20231110_203135493%20%281%29.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTtIHN-qQuRLrJKnNNh6Qw9YmMF1WL6UVdLRL7DcCAjYWTTG07NwhGbAj1L85HDkkwkEP-XyGN2DZVANErhN6DLgH5Tx2pnOjiYk7WxjMqTDEYeRrQZXZIW8WW4TULy6drDdHHlsdDAiiswDGRZIk6FK1Uk9FtN2w9AO7tjg5DvTR4mN6374U5qZMgfk/s320/PXL_20231110_203135493%20%281%29.jpg"/></a></div>After hiking <a href="https://ridewithgps.com/trips/139271086?privacy_code=XShukPyE5wigjH6Yeg3uMwRgindcTWhW" target="_blank">a little over four miles</a>, we headed into town. We meandered along the main street, but of course no trip here would be complete without a visit to the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mission_San_Juan_Bautista" target="_blank">historic mission</a>. I'll always think of my friend <a href="https://aboutpep.blogspot.com/2022/05/remembering-steve.html" target="_blank">Steve</a> here, who made sure I didn't miss the plaque for El Camino Real back in 2007 when I visited for the first time on a club ride.</p>
<p>New adventures mix with the old, not to be forgotten.</p>pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0San Juan Bautista, CA 95045, USA36.8455108 -121.53799749.2617037884721327 -156.6942474 64.429317811527866 -86.3817474tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-61900206707384386932023-11-05T20:27:00.000-08:002023-11-20T10:49:51.819-08:00Be FitA nice fall day for a bike ride—a test ride after a recent bike fit. Nothing too adventurous or far astray—a fast 27 miles on a familiar route. For the first time (ever) I felt comfortable riding with my hands on the hoods, instead of drifting back to my customary intermediate position on the bars.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpqMuS6gVx92F-9ArYRB2Md35Nn6Rm5ZsJr7ebUEaJzMlJJTl1SvFLc2bDLx3Qjy6YcAGGaiMUx1tU1sshAPJoj8qpRGGy9CPP5rE3PT5EsXh1sEfLUcLFMt-B5EPYL6-JTlvkCr3QDa_4cDCFcXWbCl6qZ8ki1DMa7vBO8iuZrKVYOdAYxEz5Ehb0GA/s800/PXL_20231105_203109251.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpqMuS6gVx92F-9ArYRB2Md35Nn6Rm5ZsJr7ebUEaJzMlJJTl1SvFLc2bDLx3Qjy6YcAGGaiMUx1tU1sshAPJoj8qpRGGy9CPP5rE3PT5EsXh1sEfLUcLFMt-B5EPYL6-JTlvkCr3QDa_4cDCFcXWbCl6qZ8ki1DMa7vBO8iuZrKVYOdAYxEz5Ehb0GA/s320/PXL_20231105_203109251.jpg"/></a></div>Years ago, some time after I'd started cycling regularly, I'd heeded advice to get a proper bike fit. As I'd become more fit, stress points on my body had surfaced. “<i>You were enjoying this?</i>” remarked the fitter as he raised my saddle a full 1.5 inches. On my very next ride, my knees stopped hurting.
<p>Over time I realized that the fit wasn't quite right, and this had become abundantly clear over the past year as I spent less time on a road bike and more time upright on a more-forgiving casual bike. Without habitually over-stretching my arms and shoulders to reach the road bike's hoods, doing so now was painful. [<i>You were enjoying this?</i>]</p>
<p>I finally indulged in a full-on professional bike fit, and it was worth it. Worth it for my body. Worth it to enjoy my best bike. Totally, worth it.</p>
<p>Once the fit was mostly dialed in, I was surprised to find how quickly I picked up on tiny tweaks that went in the wrong direction. I was amazed that I could I be so sensitive to a change of mere millimeters, bringing to mind the story of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Princess_and_the_Pea" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Princess and the Pea</a>. Chalk it up to greater body awareness and thousands of miles of biking, I guess; I'm definitely no princess!</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqcAmU-XtxxEpDILQhfVNJNsbjeyMecgU013pd1Nsvg6kMVlGhVrulAM4J2jB3aJcMG8Vtg2I3e8njTT45OFLq4y50OZlUFpjKc1-I5KcGnMph370Yb1Yr0L4FbUpgJ1jLtvcBrS-7mjA-H3Hji6QZPsTI-iC2zRyLwiYibMVPOSN4BnA3J4tSxs4DoA/s800/PXL_20231106_010022374.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqcAmU-XtxxEpDILQhfVNJNsbjeyMecgU013pd1Nsvg6kMVlGhVrulAM4J2jB3aJcMG8Vtg2I3e8njTT45OFLq4y50OZlUFpjKc1-I5KcGnMph370Yb1Yr0L4FbUpgJ1jLtvcBrS-7mjA-H3Hji6QZPsTI-iC2zRyLwiYibMVPOSN4BnA3J4tSxs4DoA/s320/PXL_20231106_010022374.jpg"/></a></div>Post-ride, I met up with a friend for a late lunch and an impromptu trip (not by bike) to take in the sunset atop Mt. Umunhum. Any residual soreness was the result of engaging, rather than straining, muscles in my back and shoulders.
<p>Totally worth it.</p>
pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0Bernal-Gulnac-Joice Ranch, 372 Manila Dr, San Jose, CA 95119, USA37.2263131 -121.79834058.9160792638211532 -156.9545905 65.536546936178837 -86.6420905tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566824284133545729.post-84249058618588623282023-10-28T18:13:00.000-07:002023-10-28T18:13:14.846-07:00Spirited SillinessHalloween is nearly here. Last year's adorable pop-up kitten was not on display at the local elementary school this year. [Bummer.]
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9GN99hErFYWDMI4HP_lSkDClG0a4WqiRPuYKUP8ycdoAZLZALfLjeCDsp_t40VxUoPEgRjWj2AB9yTRqZP0jKSFaQMVxzRvwj_JxD634TCvGFJ6Yej6_ZnbAgsU2oZBpcoeSCfNsoXznR8NZZM1uZztIOSsbEj4fAatuPevVwtkFMsAgg5kFlT00YQ4/s800/PXL_20221031_183526642.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="733" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9GN99hErFYWDMI4HP_lSkDClG0a4WqiRPuYKUP8ycdoAZLZALfLjeCDsp_t40VxUoPEgRjWj2AB9yTRqZP0jKSFaQMVxzRvwj_JxD634TCvGFJ6Yej6_ZnbAgsU2oZBpcoeSCfNsoXznR8NZZM1uZztIOSsbEj4fAatuPevVwtkFMsAgg5kFlT00YQ4/s320/PXL_20221031_183526642.jpg"/></a></div>There was one person ahead of me as I surveyed the scene this morning. The hall was festooned with webs and fake spiders, in preparation for a special event (I presumed). Then I noticed the woman at the intake table, her hair in plastic rollers and her face smeared with cold cream. [Yes, I'm old enough to know what that's about.] She checked off my name and offered a chocolate truffle. Right after breakfast? <i>Sure, why not ...</i>
<p>“Albert” approached—a man with wild white hair, a bushy mustache, and a name tag noting <i>E=mc²</i> explained today's Blood Drive Olympics: estimate how much time it would take to donate your pint (within seconds) and win a gift card.</p>
<p>This was not your run-of-the-mill blood drive.</p>
<p>There was a flapper in a sequined sheath, and a reverend. Perhaps he frightened Count Dracula away? [Not a single vampire in sight.]</p>
<p>Apparently this group of volunteers has been hosting this event for many years; a couple of them spent hours, last night, decorating the hall. A dealer was set up at a blackjack table to entertain any waiting donors if things backed up.</p>
<p>My time estimate fell short, but following a consultation between Einstein and the reverend, I was granted a dispensation and awarded my prize.</p>
<p>The “special event” was us!</p>
pephttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930799869228188883noreply@blogger.com0580 W Parr Ave, Campbell, CA 95008, USA37.2638515 -121.96171848.9536176638211558 -157.1179684 65.574085336178854 -86.8054684