Asti Tour de Vine

This event had not been on my radar (but now is).

I learned about it by sheer happenstance, when I squeezed onto a bench next to a couple of riders at Gizdich Ranch earlier this year. They were enjoying their first Strawberry Fields Forever ride, comparing it to (and highly recommending) the Asti Tour de Vine.

Previewing the route we'd take through the Alexander Valley—with a stop at Lake Sonoma—brought back fond memories of the long-ago second-day route for Waves to Wine. Today's starting point was above the northerly end of that route: Cloverdale was new territory for me.

It's a small town, with a stunning church. Presumably old, but I couldn't spot a cornerstone.

I was impressed with the route, which included areas both familiar and not—and very little traffic.

We even rode past a local purveyor of windmills! [How could they know?]

With the grapes harvested and the tourists gone, this promised to be a good time for biking in wine country. [And it was!] With predicted temperatures in the 90's, we were motivated to keep moving to be done before the hottest part of the day. Added incentive for me was to test myself in advance of next Saturday's big event. Today's route would be a bit shorter and decidedly flatter, but could I hold myself to a brisk (for me) pace?

And the rest stops! Hearty breakfast at the first stop. A revelation at the second: “Acorns.”

1. Pierce one end of a donut hole with a pretzel stick.
2. Smear the other end with creamy peanut butter.
3. Dip/roll the sticky end in chocolate sprinkles.

[This is why we bike.]

Each rest stop was lovingly decorated and showcased a different beneficiary of the local Rotary Club (which was hosting this event).

After waiting longer than expected for my chief biking buddy to reach the third rest stop, it occurred to me to check my phone. She'd missed a turn! Unclear on whether she was backtracking or riding the route in reverse, I lingered at the next two rest stops before concluding we'd just reunite at the finish. The day was heating up; the home stretch was fully exposed to the sun, but mercifully short.

A feast awaited! Salad, pasta, pulled pork. Wine and beer (for those so inclined). One of the women serving us interpreted my jersey as a joke, advertising the (Pescadero) Arthritis Classic bike ride. I suppose my hair color played into that. [It felt rude to set her straight, so I just smiled.]

This ride is a keeper: I liked the size (small), the route, and being part of a field of courteous riders. [Not to mention the food.]

I completed 65 miles with about 2,000 feet of climbing and didn't feel spent. Next week's ride seems ... doable.

Up We Go

How could it be so, that I had not yet ascended Mt. Hamilton in 2022? It's October, already!

My cycling buddy graciously joined me in riding to the top, despite this being one of her least favorite rides.

The landscape is slowly healing from the firestorm of 2020. Conditions were ideal for cycling: cool, sunny, and almost no wind. There was an unusually thick layer of fog blanketing the valley to the south.

It was uncharacteristically quiet for a Saturday on the mountain: we saw only a handful of cyclists, and none loitering at the top. Few cars (but more than a dozen motorcyclists) passed us as we pedaled up. We traded tales of epic rides on two wheels with a couple of them as we enjoyed our lunch on the the observatory's cozy patio.

When I'd shared my ride plan with some friends, one presaged a certain wildlife sighting.

It's tarantula season, though I'd never seen one on Hamilton before.

On the way up, I'd dodged some suicidal squirrels as they darted back and forth across the road. On the way down, I spied a very robust coyote standing in my lane, focusing on the opposite hillside. Trot up the road apiece, I thought, for some easy pickings. I slowed my approach until the coyote retreated into the brush.

Higher on the hill, I'd passed a band of teenagers (boys) setting up their cameras and skateboards for a different sort of descent. I was relieved to get well ahead of them.

For the day, the usual 39 miles and 4,860 feet of climbing.

Bernal or Bust

Three. [The number of vehicles whose drivers discovered that they must, in fact, turn back at the IBM gate at the top of Bernal Road.]

There are a couple of challenging rides coming up on my calendar, and although I've upped my weekly mileage by hopping on my bike at the end of my workday, I haven't done much climbing. Nor have I been spending time on my road bike.

I got a late start and headed for the first climb (Shannon) instead of my comfortable (flat) after-work route. I will make it up Bernal somehow, I told myself. I must not surrender.

The promise of another warm day likely discouraged the mountain bikers; I had the little picnic table at the turnaround spot to myself. Eyeing litter as I enjoyed my snack, I followed up by collecting it and depositing it in the trash can that is right there. Including one forlorn, inside-out sock (found a pick-up stick to handle that).

A pair of women jogged all the way up (and, back down). As for me, I had one more hill to climb. [Or not.] But of course, I did; for a total of about 28 miles and probably 1,500 feet of climbing.

That photo at the top? The leaves dangling down in the center are pointing right at next Saturday's destination, across the valley: Lick Observatory.

California Community Climate Action Day

When my team at work proposed that we find something fun to do together, I put forth my usual suggestion: a volunteer project. And then I started looking.

Preferably outdoors (especially these days). We all spend enough time sitting at desks.

Of the two gardening opportunities I found, my colleagues favored San Jose's Japanese Friendship Garden. It was a perfect project, though with little lead time for recruiting: it was part of an upcoming California Community Climate Action Day.

The morning started with speeches at Emma Prusch Farm, a rural oasis within sight of towering freeway flyovers.

We discovered that peacocks can fly pretty high (if they must).

A couple of confused chicks managed to avoid being trodden underfoot by distracted city folk.

This gig turned out to be a pretty amazing deal: snacks (free), t-shirts (free), a burrito lunch (free) with entertainment by a solar-powered DJ. To top it off, we were gifted fresh produce from Veggielution's farm stand.

All in return for a few sweaty hours shoveling and spreading mulch, digging, planting, and picking up litter. [Balloon shards, bottle caps, cigarette butts, and at least one discarded face mask.] Thankfully, mostly in the shade (on a hot day).

No-cost team building. For a worthy cause.

Rancho Cañada del Oro

I'd registered and planned to ride the Tour de Menlo today, but lost my enthusiasm for the event after last-minute adjustments to the route (poor planning on their part). I opted, instead, to join a friend who invited me to tag along on a hike she'd organized for some coworkers.

The main parking lot at Rancho Cañada del Oro had filled up, diverting a few of us to an upper (overflow) parking lot.

We warmed up with a stroll on the Llagas Creek Loop Trail; there were signs for an organized run on the trails today, but even the stragglers must have finished before we got going.

We continued by following the Mayfair Ranch Trail (mostly uphill) to the Longwall Canyon Trail (mostly downhill).

The Open Space Authority doesn't seem to share anything about the history of this place, but I did find a source that reported it was once the site of a walnut orchard. I didn't notice any remnants of that, but it's likely they'd been cultivated in a flatter section of the preserve.

Six miles of hilly terrain exercised some under-utilized muscles, and collegial conversation broadened some horizons, too.

Black and White

There are a few ambitious events coming up on my calendar, motivating me to undertake some longer rides. The weather's warming up, so I planned to get an early start and head for the shoreline of San Francisco Bay.

I failed at the “early start” bit. I did make it to the Bay, where it wasn't hard to find a bench to enjoy my sandwich. (They were all unoccupied.)

One of these things is not like the others ... There is a little surprise in this photo of white pelicans—and it's not their black-fringed wings. Paddling along with this little flock was a lone, black cormarant. Hard to see at this resolution and against the deep blue water—in front of the second pelican from the left. They all seemed content with this status quo.

There weren't many birds to see today; the egrets have flown their nests, but I did see at least one juvenile hunting in the shallows, paired with an adult.

I basked in the breeze that was chopping up the water, cooling me nicely; at the same time, knowing that the longer I lingered, the hotter my trip home would be.

The route I chose (to be more direct, and to avoid heavy traffic heading for the coast) turned out to be well-shaded. [Bonus!] With a slight breeze, it wasn't miserably hot. Maybe, even, comfortable.

During the week, I'd happily discovered that I could return to my regular after-work route. [Two weeks prior, roadwork had ground the pavement down to a base layer and I found myself choking on dust churned up by passing vehicles.] With those three trips and today's 49+ miles, I closed out the week with 110 miles and 2,060 feet of climbing. Now, to keep that up ...

Next week's forecast is not encouraging (multiple days where much of the Bay Area will top 100°F).

Tour de Fox

Do-it-yourself charity rides are less enticing than group events, and I wouldn't have done this one if some folks at work hadn't reached out. They'd formed a team for a colleague and planned a 20-mile route that would be “friendly” for all. They generously sprang for some breakfast pastries to start our day. [Sign me up!]

Their plan was a counter-clockwise version of a local fave, the Portola Loop. It was fitting, in a bittersweet way, because I met my friend Steve nearby so many times to ride together. It seems I know rather too many folks afflicted with Parkinson's (cyclists, all) ...

I recruited a friend to join me and we both wanted a bit more of a ride, so I tacked on the out-and-back climb up Alpine Road. I thought we might have a chance to catch back up to the group at the finish, but we rolled in about 20 minutes late for that.

Our starting point turned out to be a popular one, especially with the running crowd. In the morning, we were swarmed by teens assembling for training runs. In the afternoon, we were mystified as women (and men) wearing bright red dresses started to gather.

The local chapter of the Hash House Harriers happily educated us in their ways. Today was a special event, their annual Red Dress Run—raising funds for a women's legal defense fund. They were lively and outgoing, a much more inclusive group than their online characterization might imply—even willing to talking to “cheaters” (cyclists) like us! One did seem favorably impressed that we'd biked 27 miles (and for a charitable cause).

A couple showed up, first-timers; the guy had donned nothing red (much less a dress). But never fear: One of the regulars dashed to his car and pulled out a lovely satin number, complete with sequins around the neckline.

For us, 27 miles, 1,800 feet of climbing and some unexpected edutainment.