Busy Birds

It's that time of year again: time to check on the rookery. Before I invite others to visit with me, I always do a preview.

The waters of the bay were higher than I've seen on any previous ride. A fellow cyclist even stopped to remark the same. High tide, sure; but still puzzling. [Until later, as I was riding home and remembered that the moon is almost full—two more days.]

There were birds to see along the way: egrets, great and snowy.

Eared grebes, feeding their ride-along offspring.

There were more fledglings than I expected at the rookery, but I should have remembered that from last year's visit.

With a stiff headwind along the bay (and a full loop of 45 miles with some 1,200 feet of climbing), of course I stopped at for a (now-traditional) fresh fruit tart on the way home. Stay tuned for next week's visit (with friends)!

A Shady Canyon

My former teammates and friends were ready for another hike, but apprehensive about the heat. Uvas Canyon came to mind, and when I was able to secure a parking pass we were in!

I'd suggested that we rendezvous at another park along the way, and I would transport the group from there. While I waited, a perky little gopher kept popping up nearby—and I managed to capture a few shots.

I knew we'd have plenty of cool shade.

Summer is nigh, so I was less confident we'd see the park's famous waterfalls.

I didn't tell them about the stream crossing in advance ... but they were intrepid and sure-footed explorers. Some even more than I!

I'd encouraged them to bring lunches, which I'd stashed in a cooler while we hiked. I shared some brownies, others shared strawberries, and we lingered over lunch and conversation longer than we spent hiking the trails.

A good time was had by all!

Wild Things

You never know what you might find on an ordinary bike ride.

My biking companions missed the great blue heron as we cycled along the Coyote Creek trail.

I stopped, though, for both Pacific gopher snakes (deceased)—so they saw those. The second one might have lost a battle with a foe—I think I spotted a puncture wound. (The first one appeared to have lost its life to a vehicle.)

A pair of grackles made me chuckle. Just like the people relaxing along the shores of Almaden Lake, they'd found a shady spot to enjoy the view.

Forty miles and about 1,100 feet of climbing along the way. [But it's not all about the bike.]

History, Natural and Not

This almost looks like a painting of rainbow trout, but it's the real deal. You can see some reflections in the glass, and if you look closely you might make out the dark figure of the photographer in the center with a fish head.

Last year this exhibit was more fun; they tossed some food into the tank and the frenzied fish gave us a good splashing.

We were enjoying an early morning visit to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, 90 minutes or so before the doors opened to the public. We wandered out when we needed feeding (around lunchtime).

A friend had recently raved about the gardens at the Carmel Mission, so we decided to pay a visit.

The buildings and historical pieces were fascinating; I thought I'd been here before, touring it during a visit with my mom, but nothing looked familiar. I'm fairly sure she picked up a Christmas tree ornament (featuring the mission) for her collection. The garden was pretty, but not outstanding. Kudos to those who faithfully restored the place, which might otherwise have been razed given its state of disrepair when they took it on.

Saving the best for last: no visit would be complete without a leisurely meander along the coastal trail.

I never tire of these views, especially in the late-day sunshine.

Monterey Bay at its fog-free best.

New Views

An opportunity for early-morning access to the Aquarium on Saturday was a good excuse to spend a long weekend in the Monterey Area. [Not that I need an excuse ...] I invited a couple of friends to join me, and my chief biking buddy was happy to head down early enough on Friday to go exploring.

A little research had turned up an unfamiliar state park: Garrapata. How could I have biked past this park on so many rides down the coast, and not seen it? Well, there's no parking lot (and no admission fee); I studied the map to understand where to park along the roadside and hoped we'd find a spot.

In a word: Wow!

I expected coastal views. I didn't expect brilliant flowers. I'm already looking forward to another visit—next spring, if not sooner.

We didn't complete the loop I'd planned along the coastal bluff, heading back across the highway to explore a bit of the inland canyon instead.

Then we headed for another park, away from the fog and into the sunshine: Garland Ranch Regional Park.

Of the potential hikes I'd mapped out, the waterfall loop beckoned. It was a good challenge, and in the counter-clockwise direction we would reach the waterfall toward the end.

I bet it's impressive when the water is flowing; it was barely a trickle now. But I did spot a flower I'd forgotten having seen before (prettyface). Evidently it caught my eye back then, too!

Fauna vs. Flora

It's a season of transition, spring fading toward summer.

The sky was brooding, but no rain would fall on us ('tis not the season for that).

There was more green to be seen closer to the Guadalupe Reservoir. And even on a familiar hike (a little more than five miles), there is something new to find.

I paused to snap a photo of this flower (yellow star-thistle), and was surprised to find it covered with insects. Insects I hadn't seen before (of which there are, of course, many).

The natural world is amazing. Specfically, these were yellow star-thistle flower weevils. That's right: a creature that feeds on precisely this flower. Like the plant, these weevils are non-native—they were deliberately imported to attack this invasive plant. Evidently they're not alone in this job: there are a couple of other types of yellow-star-thistle-hungry weevils, similarly imported. I've seen a lot of yellow starthistle ... but this was the first time to find any of the devouring weevils. (In the Bay Area, the plant seems to be winning.)

Life is full of little surprises—always be looking!

Gold Country Challenge

Looking at the route for today's event, I realized that our inn was right on the route. Having picked up our registration materials yesterday, we could simply roll out in the morning. I love it when this works! The downside, of course, would be that we would need to return (uphill) to the inn after finishing at the fairgrounds (the ride's official start and finish location).

Having been humbled when I added more hillclimbing to my rides recently, I wasn't at all sure I could finish this ride. Looking at the route profile, I realized there was a reason for the word “Challenge” in the name.

I stopped only once to take pictures, on a bridge over the Yuba River.

The water was flowing fast (and cold, I would expect).

Just like last time, I did not stop for a photo when we crossed the river the first time. It's a scenic spot, but I was more keen to use my downhill momentum for a boost on the climb up the far side. [Maybe next time?]

My legs gave out on a steep pitch near the end, where they'd routed us through a residential neighborhood for a break from the main road. “We're almost done,” a passing rider encouraged me. “That's good,” I said, “because my legs are done!” I dismounted and walked up the last bit (over 10% grade). A postal service truck was stopped at the top, and when I got there the mail carrier cheered for me. Smiles do help soothe the pain.

We'd signed up for the “Milder Metric” route, which turned out to be 51 miles and some 5,000 feet of climbing. The full century route approached 9,000 feet of climbing, which accounted for the riders I saw sporting Death Ride jerseys: This would be a good training ride in preparation for mid-July.

We were lucky with the weather (not too hot). Although we could have followed the official route from the fairgrounds back to the inn, that would have entailed more time on a busy road than I'd like. (Not a problem for those who rode it first thing, in the early morning.) The route I mapped out included one steep bit (again, over 10% grade)—but a little downhill momentum helped there, too. [Made it!]