Revisiting Saratoga Gap

The weather was warm, several key folks from our group were traveling, and it seemed clear there would be no hike today unless I organized one. [So I did.]

How about ... something “new” to this group, outside the regular rotation. Something shady. [Or, mostly so.]

Saratoga Gap! A few months ago, my former teammates introduced me to a loop that could fit the bill today.

Success! Three people came along and enjoyed the route, which was definitely more peaceful on a weekday. Consensus: “Would do again!”

A fairly easy hike, we covered 4.6 miles at a good pace, finishing with plenty of time for everyone to continue on to their afternoon commitments.

When I got home, I was surprised at how sweaty I was. Wait, I know this feeling: it's humid! Remnants of a tropical storm brushed the Bay Area, even delivering a thunderclap and brief downpour. (Luckily, not enough to soak the hiking boots I'd left outside to dry.)

A Training Ride

Rather by accident, last year I learned about a three-day fundraising ride that's been taking place annually for more than 25 years. (So of course, I signed up.)

Today was the first “training ride,” and since I'm a newcomer to this event I figured I ought to show up. This would also give me a chance to gauge myself relative to some of the other riders.

The ride started in Aptos, entailing an early morning for me to get there. The coastal fog was a plus (and I was properly dressed for it). Truth be told, I was not looking forward to driving back to the hot valley later; but loitering in the coolness would mean enduring the miserable summer weekend traffic jam to get home.

The ride leader was casual about the route, having mapped it using only Google Maps. [From that, I'd created my own copy on RideWithGPS. Just in case.] Our group was small (five, plus the leader) and familiar with the area. The plan was to ride ~17 miles, with an option to extend the route depending on who showed up. We passed muster en route and agreed to the longer version. (Last year, apparently, someone showed up in shorts and sandals.)

The group? A fit-looking woman who said she hadn't been on a bike since November. A young woman (visiting) on a borrowed bike with flat pedals. An older guy who knows he can't ride like he used to. [I so wanted to show him how to adjust his helmet straps properly. It's a thing I do. But I forced myself to stand down, these people knew one another and might not welcome unsolicited advice from a newcomer.]

Some of the route was familiar to me: we passed the road that leads to the first rest stop for Strawberry Fields Forever. We rode through Manresa State Beach, my second (and last) camping experience. Our extension took us to Sunset State Beach (which I had never visited, until now).

For a first training ride, I expected something simple. Something easy. I wasn't expecting about 1,600 feet of elevation gain over 24 miles.

I was humbled. I started out with the front of the pack; as we returned, I was fully off the back.

Time to get serious.

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!