Meet the Aquarists

Here for an early morning visit at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, a “Caution: Wet Floor” warning near the Rainbow Trout habitat puzzled me. The floor was dry ... until a staff member tossed handfuls of food overhead, into the water.

The ensuing feeding frenzy splashed onlookers as well as the floor. We learned that these fish can transition between living in salt or fresh water habitats—something I hadn't known before now.

Many of my visits have been evening tours, so it has been a while since I strolled through the aviary.

My eyes were drawn to a handsome Black-bellied Plover, a shorebird unfamiliar to me.

The jellyfish are always mesmerizing. I focused on the Spotted Comb Jelly, for a change.

But the big (and I do mean, big) surprise was a Japanese Spider Crab.

For perspective, those are whale vertebrae nearby. [Yikes.]

No trip to Monterey would be complete without stopping by the Aquarium!

More than a Walk in the Woods

Having not exhausted myself on yesterday's ride, I agreed to join a friend for a modest hike today.

I was content to meander slowly along the trail; I was surprised at how many wildflowers were blooming here, but I'm not certain I've hiked this trail before—much less at this time of year.

Having recently enjoyed a few sessions about our local geology, flora, and fauna (sponsored by our county parks system), my eyes are open to so much more on my forays through the forest.

Now well aware of California Buckeyes in bloom, I had been amused to recognize them dotting the hills of Almaden. So many trees here keep their leaves year-round that I'd sadly assumed they were blighted oaks and wondered why they hadn't been felled to reduce the risk of fire. [Ha.]

The air was much hazier than I expected on a relatively cool day.

Our destination was the intersection of the Woods Trail with the Barlow Road trail, but my hiking companion ran out of steam; we covered a little over 4 miles (out and back).

Ever tantalizing, the cube atop Mt. Umunhum beckoned; we drove to the top and found that the marine layer obscured the Pacific. I couldn't help noticing, however, how the landscape changed as we climbed—from chaparral to conifers. So much more for the curious to appreciate in the world around us!

Lunch with the Girls

It's been a while. A while during which I missed two of my most favorite biking events.

I managed to catch a head cold—first time I've been sick since The Before Times—and it was a doozy. A scratchy throat that I'd chalked up to gasping for air on steep climbs was the harbinger.

If I took it easy, I figured I could manage a simple local route today, with a sandwich to sustain me. Though maybe I'd still need a nap when I got home ...

There was some aerial drama on the way: First, a crow harassing a red-tailed hawk; tables turned a mile or two later, with a mockingbird harassing a crow.

There's always something new to see, if you pay attention.

Pecking order is on full display at the ranch; the smallest hen wears a protective shield on her back because the bully who rules the roost keeps plucking out her feathers. Her neck is pretty bare, too.

The surprise for me was a doe, contently grazing next to the historic house and none too bothered by my presence. A regular visitor, I'm guessing, as a loud chorus of “Deer!” had rung out when I shared this site with dozens of excited schoolchildren on a field trip a few weeks ago. (She high-tailed it out of there, that day.)

Wild kingdom, right here on the suburban fringe of San José.

I Care Classic

This was definitely not your grandma's I Care Classic ...

I hadn't signed up for this ride since 2007, when I rode the 100-mile route. That was memorable for an epidemic of punctures (induced by goathead thorns). Biking along, the route heading into Gilroy was lined with cyclists fixing flats. At the next rest stop, I discovered that I had one, too. I remember one rider who abandoned, having flatted both tires (twice). Being buffeted by fast-moving semi trucks on Highway 25 was also unforgettable.

The designated routes have changed since then. The 100k route now incorporated two familiar, nasty-steep climbs; determined not to walk, my heart rate flirted with its maximum on the first one (Estates Drive, 15% grade), followed later by a stretch exceeding 12% on Mantelli Drive. I saw three people doing this route on ElliptiGOs; they told me they made it because they do have low gears.

Before 2007, I had done the metric route twice (2005, 2006). That route was ... friendlier. (Though I will say today's short climb up Roop Road felt like nothing after Estates Drive.)

When I reached the rest stop at Santa Teresa and Watsonville Roads, set up right at the (congested) intersection, I thought “You've got to be kidding me.” Traffic was backed up in all directions. It's a four-way stop, but impatient motorists don't necessarily wait their turn. I ran into a cyclist I know, and we had the same thought: the safest way to make the left turn was to walk the bike across the road.

A mile or so later, two cyclists flagged me down. They saw only a red arrow for the 100 mile route on the pavement. With the route on my device, and knowing the area, I was able to reassure them that we had not gone off course.

The day was heating up, and by the time I got to the last rest stop (also awkwardly placed, tucked around the corner at the Oak Glen intersection), I just wanted to be done. Having already taken my own pit stop at the Uvas Reservoir, I blew past. (I'd considered taking a short-cut up Willow Springs Road, but figured I'd cause a ruckus by going off-course past that rest stop.)

Thus, I finished with the expected 62 miles and some 2,400 feet of climbing. (As you've probably guessed, I won't be signing up for this event again.)

Wild Flowers

I had been meaning to catch up with a former colleague for the past few months; today was the day!

We settled on a hike, and I suggested Santa Teresa County Park for the likelihood of wildflowers. With an eye on the ominous sky, she had wisely donned a rain jacket. (Fortunately for me, it barely drizzled on us.)

On a weekday, I've become accustomed to having a park to myself. This was the first time I've shared a trail here with horseback riders!

We also passed some artists in the brush. [Pun intended.]

Some kindred spirit had left a sticky-note on the park map near the trailhead, designating where the blooms would be found (and, the intel was spot-on).

We had fun trying to match the flowers we saw to the park's brochure. Without clues to size or foliage, that was often quite challenging. Serpentine leptosiphon struck us as the most peculiar name.

Here's looking at you, Liz(ard)! I would have missed you, were it not for the keen eye of my hiking buddy. A California Alligator Lizard, methinks.

We found patches of Checkerbloom,

Owl's Clover,

and Tomcat Clover.

My hiking companion and I were well-matched today, because ... if you aren't into wildflowers, you will likely be frustrated hiking with me when the bloom is on!

We covered about 4 miles and something under 800 feet of elevation gain, with lots of good conversation, flower appreciation, and one more Pix in the Parks along the way!

The Workhorse

I'd been intending to take my classic old bike somewhere for maintenance; it was overdue. A flat tire (on the rear, of course) spurred me to take a closer look. That tire was ... done. And if I had been more attentive, I wouldn't have trashed the rear cassette by riding (how many miles?) with a worn-out chain. [I know better.] After 31 years of reliable riding, I really can't complain. (I had already worn out, and replaced, the shifters.)

This bike is a comfortable old friend, well-suited to casual rides. Though my days of bicycle commuting are behind me, I've nonetheless been racking up the miles on my trusty steed.

Too heavy to load into my car, I had pedaled it to a well-regarded family-owned shop for some TLC. A shop with a mechanic that would happily get it into shape, not frown and try to sell me a new bike.

Gone are the chronically misaligned, shrieking brake shoes. Also gone is the mismatched 8-speed rear shifter (it's a 7-speed cassette, but I guess that's all a previous mechanic had on hand when he replaced it).

This mechanic commented that the hubs had absolutely no grease in them. [Hubs are something of a mystery to me, and evidently had been ignored by all those who had serviced this machine, till now.]

Biking it back home seemed effortless. I hadn't had a sense that there was anything wrong about the ride, before; but there certainly was a difference now.

And I knew just where I wanted to stop for the glamour shots my old friend deserved!

Checking Out Chico

Road trips for cycling events are welcome opportunities to explore new areas. Given the popularity of the Chico Wildflower, I was surprised that the city was so far off the beaten track.

There was a two-day festival at the fairgrounds, with the opportunity to test-ride a variety of cycling contraptions.

And there were adventure-types launching spins and flips. [This one didn't land it.]

Thanks to a lucky meeting with a Bay Area friend on Saturday, we learned that there was a cycling-inspired exhibit at the Museum of Northern California Art—and we had just enough time to seek it out.

Most of the artists were local, like Stevi Mittman. “Silver Streaker” was eye-catching (though not rideable).

Karen Mason's whimsical prints, like “Family Out for the Day,” made me smile.

But the show-stopper for me was Katelyn Fitzgerald's “The History of the Bicycle,” a black-and-white piece composed entirely of the written word. Study it closely and you'd find a description of the history of the bicycle, the Tour de France, the lyrics to Queen's “Bicycle Race” (and more).

We settled on the Sierra Nevada taproom for dinner, along with a contingent of young people in formal attire (prom night).

Sunday (post ride), we stretched our legs on a stroll through the lower section of Bidwell Park. A couple of frenetic butterflies caught our eyes (Black Swallowtails, I believe).

We saw a few cyclists cooling off in the swimming area of Big Chico Creek (if only we'd known ...), and watched a couple of teens clinging and swinging with a log teetering on the edge of a low waterfall. Plenty of flow, especially given the warm weather (we were lucky that it was cooler on ride-day than Saturday, when we arrived).

We wrapped up with a visit to the Chico State campus. I was mindful not to photo-bomb any of the soon-to-be-graduates (and their families) posing for photos. One friendly group invited me to be in their picture when they realized I was politely staying out of the frame! (I declined.)

I was surprised to find so many brick buildings throughout town—an uncommon sight in California (land of earthquakes). Evidentky Trinity Hall has been standing for 90 years, so perhaps this region is less susceptible to shaking than much of the state.

We didn't manage to explore the downtown area. Maybe next time?