Creamy Good

Sometimes you need an incentive to spur you to climb on the bike. Club rides are great for that.

This morning I was more enthusiastic about sleeping in than I was about any of the rides listed on the calendar. But I did like the prospect of connecting with my fellow riders at our annual Ice Cream Social, which was scheduled at a friendly, post-lunch hour. And I was hankering for a long-ish ride.

After indulging myself and chatting with friends, I decided to take a different route home. Why not visit the rookery?

Many of the youngsters had fledged by the time I last visited, but there were still a few on the nest. As I watched, some crows set up a ruckus and the sky suddenly swirled with a flock of adult egrets. More than a few remain, after all.

One of the resident great blue herons was hunkered down next to a channel along the Bay.

Today there were cormorants lined up, as they will, preening and drying their wings.

The Bay Trail offers options; I chose the straight and not-so-narrow. Reversing the route I usually lead, I was curious to explore a new segment of the San Tomas Aquino Trail.

They've extended the two-way, separated trail alongside San Tomas Expressway. But it's not done. And I hadn't studied the map for options before making this fateful decision, knowing that there is a wide shoulder on the expressway and that traffic would be light on a Sunday afternoon.

What I didn't know was that only one southbound lane would be open (road construction), with ... no shoulder. When I reached the end, I glared at barriers blocking access to the as-yet-unopened continuation of the trail. It was already striped! Why the heck wasn't it open?

I pedaled hard. The driver behind me was heroically patient; never honking, never trying to pass me. Maybe he or she was my guardian angel, shielding me from the cars behind. Or maybe they all just understood that even though I was slow, traffic was backed up and we'd all come together at the next traffic light anyway. There was no place for me to pull off (though I did consider veering left and pedaling in the cone zone).

I made it. 51 miles, only 800 feet of climbing.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

It's not a cloudy morning.

It's a smoky morning.

The fires raging through the hills of northern California are hundreds of miles away, but the smoke spreads. The prevailing westerly winds haven't been enough to clear it away.

I did a double-take yesterday morning when I awoke to a red glow on the wall: sunrise. The smoke layer above us colors the light.

Absent warnings about air quality, I biked to (and from) work. My schedule hasn't been bike-commute-friendly this summer. (Not being a “morning person,” anything earlier than a 9:30 a.m. meeting makes the 18-mile trip infeasible.) On some mornings, I do load my trusty steed onto a commuter shuttle—and bike home at the end of the day. One way is better than no way.

Today gave me the usual 36 miles and 1,000 feet of climbing. The sun will come out ... tomorrow.