After-Work Ride

Some years ago, there were a few ride leaders in our club who capitalized on long summer days to organize regular after-work rides. For various reasons, those ride series faded away.

I dug up the route sheets I'd saved and studied old ride listings for hints about which ride to lead when. I was looking forward to reviving a series last summer, and then ... our world fell apart.

I consoled myself with mapping the routes and bided my time.

Which brings us to tonight, when our county is in a better place than we were a year ago. Though some restrictions remain in place, with clear guidelines our club rides have stayed safe.

Would anyone show up? [No, as it turned out.]

For this first week, I had chosen a route that I would comfortably ride alone. [Just in case.]

I know some people are reticent to ride late in the day, fearing traffic; I had wondered that myself, before I'd joined a few rides. It's dinnertime; these roads are not busy.

Out by the Guadalupe Reservoir (another harbinger of drought), I grew uneasy when I heard a man shouting incoherently. Barely clothed, I figured he was crazy; a passing cyclist suggested he was tripping. [Maybe, both?] I was relieved that he was on the far side of the reservoir.

This outing would be shorter than my routine after-work rides, but hillier: 18 miles, 1,320 feet of climbing.

Maybe next week someone will join me?

Pierce Be With You

Tempted as we were by a route in the coastal hills, my chief biking buddy and I opted to stay local. With high winds in the forecast, we wondered how the riders who headed for Mt. Diablo today would fare. Hopefully, they would make a safe choice.

We chatted with some riders at the end of Stevens Canyon; like us, they had opted out of joining their club's ride (also to Mt. Diablo). Discretion is the better part of valor.

There was still some water flowing in Stevens Creek (barely); the level in that reservoir, of course, is consequently low.

Although the climb up Mt. Eden (and even Pierce) seemed less arduous than usual, soon enough we were grateful to be heading back to our starting point to finish out with 32 miles and 2,020 feet of climbing.

This being a warm weekend, Saturday's migration to the coast was in full swing; traffic on a road that feeds the highway was basically at a standstill as we sailed alongside in the bike lane.

Crossing over the highway, both southbound lanes were bumper-to-bumper as far as the eye could see. Where do they all go, and what do they do when they get there? And I always wonder, is it worth it?

Roop de Roop

I remember struggling up Roop Road, the first time I climbed it; I needed to pause when the grade kicked up.

Not so, today. Though, knowing what to expect tends to help.

Another year without our club's signature event. I was hoping that someone would offer to lead rides along the traditional routes, so we could ride them anyway (without any support, of course). [And sure enough, someone did.]

Seeing no point in driving all the way to the “official” starting point (where there are no facilities available), I suggested an alternative location to my chief riding buddy. Game on!

Then I thought, why not share our plan with another rider who might be interested. [She was.]

Then I thought, why not open it up more broadly?

And that is how I ended up with 16 riding companions, though only four of us completed the full route. One of those was a guy I last saw, improbably enough, on a remote road in Northern Ireland.

A panicked deer raced alongside us in a field; wary that it would jump onto the road, we kept our eyes on it. It changed course (whew!) when a car approached in the opposite lane.

The group splintered after the first loop, and my ride buddy and I found ourselves alone. We took a break at the Uvas Reservoir, where we would normally find our lunch on the supported edition of this ride (for members who volunteer during the actual event). I know we're experiencing another drought, but the reservoir looked even lower, to me, than I remember during the last extended drought. And, it's only the beginning of May ...

We finished our abbreviated “100k” (55 miles, 2,220 feet of climbing) with a welcome boost from a strong tailwind. (How else would I be cruising at 20+ mph, with 50+ miles in my legs?!)

With that image of the shrinking reservoir top of mind, when I got home I re-installed my five-gallon bucket in my shower before I stepped in. It's high time to catch what I can (for the garden)—don't send a gallon or more down the drain before the water runs warm.

Historic New Almaden

One of my local cycling friends had reached out a while back, wanting to enjoy a ride together. The catch is, she's less comfortable on the road than on mountain bike trails. [Hmm, I should tap her for an easy trail ride one of these days ...]

I had proposed an excursion to New Almaden (with some hills through residential neighborhoods along the way). I offered the option to return by climbing Hicks, but she had declined (fearing too much traffic).

Ironically, when I saw the local Alfa Romeo club heading up one of our hills as I set out, I knew where they were going. [Hicks. Perhaps Mt. Umunhum, too.]

And, I was right—and my friend unnerved—when the parade of Alfas came down through New Almaden (albeit on the other side of the road).

My friend has lived, and biked, in this area much longer than I have. She pointed out one of the historic cottages in New Almaden where one of her coworkers had lived, and happily agreed to continue to the public end of Alamitos Road. There we found a shady glen next to the creek where we stopped to chat and enjoy our snacks.

How many times have I biked past the intersections with Bertram Road and wondered what was back there? Although our club rides have introduced me to so many wonderful backroads, the traditional routes rarely venture off their well-established paths. It's been fun, riding on my own, to be a renegade and go exploring.

And so it was today, when my friend asked if I'd seen the Hacienda Hotel and turned onto Bertram Road.

The early history of the hotel, from the sign:

Built after the tragic 1875 fire destroyed the original 1848 adobe hotel. First two-story hotel in California. Used by the Almaden Quicksilver Mining Co. for unmarried employees & and to house visitors to mining settlement.

Oh, the historic sites I've bypassed, all this time! A social and educational 32 miles with a healthy 1,300 feet of climbing.

Lunch Run

Thinking about a couple of errands I needed to run today, I hatched a plan: go by bike, and pick up a sandwich for lunch!

As I pondered the route, I realized that heading out on the local (mixed use) trail was not only the most scenic route, it was also the best route. It's a popular (and too populated) trail, normally, but maybe not so bad on a weekday? [Haha.]

Well, at least it was less crowded than usual.

Going by bike was also a big win, traffic-wise: road construction has been clogging a local thoroughfare for months (and, months to come). Eight miles, a measly 180 feet of climbing, and a nice lunch to enjoy in my garden. Working from home has its perks.

Hamilton in Recovery

The summit teases: so close, yet still far away.

Feeling strong, I was determined to make good time on my way up the hill. No lolly-gagging for me today.

I tried to commit a few photo-worthy sites to memory, scenes to capture on the way down.

Some trees survived the inferno. Some did not. The slopes seem so barren, now.

The usual 39 miles and 4,940 feet of climbing for the day, though I will say that the uphill stretches on the way down feel less bothersome these days. Gusty winds encouraged me not to loiter at the top and to be prudent in my descent.

It will take time, but the landscape will heal. It will be different, that's all.

Right Place, Right Tom

A lucky day for another trip up Bernal—just in time to admire a couple of wild toms strutting their stuff.

As we continued with the rest of our route, well behind the rest of our group, we found ourselves mixing it up with Too. Much. Traffic. Too Much Fast-Moving Traffic.

I wanted to do this ride today because I expected we'd find the peak of spring wildflowers along the route. (And, we did.)

The wildlife was a bonus. The deer weren't much troubled by my presence.

We were relieved that the forecasted headwind was not as fierce as predicted. A field full of poppies stopped us in our tracks; evidently this was the first time we have taken the trail at this time of year. Now, we know.

I managed to achieve new personal best times on both the Bernal and Bailey climbs today! My after-work ride routine is paying off (last week, more than 137 miles). With today's 41 miles (and 1,500 feet of climbing), I closed out this week with more than 142 miles. Training works.