Hamilton, the Mountain

That view means one thing ... I have made it to the top of Mt. Hamilton ... again!

Somehow, 2019 had mostly slipped by without undertaking my favorite climb. I decided to try something I haven't done in a long time: Pedal non-stop to the top. Just take photos at the top, I told myself.

Smoke from a distant fire added to the haze, but it was an otherwise perfect day. Expecting to see no flowers, this late in the dry season, I was surprised by yellow blooms. How have I not noticed these before? (In 2012, I climbed this mountain 10 times, missing only the months of March and December.)

This was the maiden voyage for my starry Lick Observatory jersey. I truly didn't need another bike jersey (don't ask), but how could I not add this one to my collection?

A staff member gave me a thumbs up as she pulled out of the parking lot. “You earned it!” she said. [Indeed.]

I offered a head start to the others in our group, in case any of them felt uncomfortable about having no one behind them. “It normally takes me about an hour and ten minutes,” I explained. One rider's eyes grew wide. “It takes me two hours!” she said.

In all, 39 miles with 4,855 feet of climbing. I summited in just a tad (less than two minutes) over three hours. Turns out I descended a bit faster than I expected (62 minutes), despite having to brake repeatedly behind an SUV—and a teenager on a skateboard (!) on the lower section. Those two pesky climbs on the way down hurt less today.

Infinite Loop

It's that fall-heat-wave time of year, and a Spare the Air Day had been declared—a fine day to bike to (and from) work.

I always see other cycling commuters, but we rarely chat (other than a friendly “good morning” or “on your left”).

This morning two of us were stopped at an intersection that has recently been reconfigured for cyclists, and I cannot figure out the city's intent. I struck up a conversation, and my fellow cyclist was just as mystified as I am.

Here is  the view from the southeast corner (where we were), facing in the direction we will travel (north). There is a dashed green bike lane for cyclists crossing from west to east; there is no bike lane  marked for cyclists heading north (there is a sharrow on the far side of the intersection, before the crosswalk).

But the oddest feature is the green square that has been painted in all four corners of this intersection, each with an arrow pointing left. It does not align with the bike lane, and if you needed to turn left, you would not make that turn from the far right edge of the right lane.

Here is the view from the southwest corner, captured on the way home after I crossed the intersection. Are they trying to tell us to turn left, directly into the path of straight-through traffic?

This is Cupertino, home to Apple; 1 Infinite Loop is not far away. If I followed these four boxes I would, in fact, circle the intersection forever. But this can't be some grand municipal joke ... can it?

The county is already setting up for the Fantasy of Lights; riding through a set of arches made for a triumphal celebration of my commute (38 miles and 920 feet of climbing). The end of daylight savings time will soon signal the end of my return commutes.