Last Ride of 2022

The Bay Area, land of palm trees and ... holly. [Plenty of ivy, too.]

The forecast for the rest of this week is discouraging (very wet), and of course it's a work week.

Except for today. I had no particular plan; I'd considered a long ride, but realism carried the day. I haven't been on the bike in the past month. [An errand of nine miles doesn't count.]

My neighbor was keen to go for a ride, so I revised my plan: Bernal Ranch Park is a convenient place to turn around. By then, he'd be ready for a break. On the return trip, he ran out of gas about a mile from home, but mustered enough energy to continue after a short rest. [Effects of a low-carb (no carb?) diet.]

“I'm going to keep up with you in a few weeks!” he predicted. “Ah, then I'll pick up the pace!” I smiled. “Noooooooooooo!”

Closing out the year, I may know more people who have contracted Covid-19 by now than not; cautious and fully boosted, I have managed to stay healthy. I even attended a Christmas Eve party at a friend's home, a tradition that we last celebrated in 2019. Responsible adults all, we agreed to test ourselves that morning. [All good.]

Twenty-five miles and 400 feet of climbing for my last ride of 2022, finishing out the year with more than 2,350 miles over the course of 95 rides. Fewer rides and less distance than last year, because ... reasons. Total elevation gain is harder to know with my current set-up. Something approaching 90,000 feet, give or take. I'm relying on stats from my Wahoo Elemnt Bolt these days; compared with my trusty old Polar S720i, I've found its readings inflated by as little as 2.5% or as much as 55.3%. [Due to lack of an accurate altimeter.]

The long-range forecast continues to trend wet. We certainly need the water, but I don't need to ride in it. Looking forward to my first ride of 2023, whenver that will be.

Ho Ho Hike

We started our day with a whale sighting. [Too early in the season for the real thing.]

I'd suggested the Cowell-Pursima Coastal Trail, heading south from the Cowell Ranch Beach access. Surprised that the lot was full (!), we found adequate roadside space on the northbound side of Highway 1. Being so close to Half Moon Bay, I'm guessing this trail is popular with the locals.

We recognized a stretch from a prior outing; then, as now, we descended the stairs to the beach. Either the tide was coming in, or the approaching storm was kicking up the waves. I kept a watchful eye on the sea. There isn't much sand down there, at the base of the cliffs.

Fine weather for a Christmas Day hike. We hadn't walked far before I was ready to peel off my jacket—most welcome after our recent spell of freezing temperatures.

Having started further south today, we continued down through the canyon at Purisima Creek and onward to the southern terminus of the trail, for a leisurely round trip of nearly eight miles.

Find That Holiday Spirit!

After several annual visits to the local “Fantasy of Lights” event, my interest had waned. Disappointed that the displays were the same year after year? Or a lack of holiday spirit?

Then the world turned upside down. No walk-through option in 2020. It seemed appealing, once again, in 2021—but I missed the chance to get tickets before it sold out.

How lucky it was that I chose Sunday! It was pouring on Saturday night (no rain checks). Still, we were pelted with a few drops tonight before the moon lit up the clouds.

Were there some new displays this year, or did I forget a few?

Plenty of old favorites, in their usual spots.

'Tis the season to be merry!

Be The Good

Last month, when I rode in the Asti Tour de Vine, one volunteer sported a t-shirt with words that drew my attention.

BELIEVE
THERE IS
GOOD IN
THE WORLD

The event was run by the Cloverdale Rotary Club, and evidently this is one of Rotary's mottoes.

Those words came back to me this afternoon.

I was walking home from a late afternoon errand when—by pure happenstance of timing and route—I was startled when an elderly cyclist in the bike lane clattered to the ground, his helmet (evidently unclipped) rolling into the gutter.

A woman ran toward him, helping him crawl onto the sidewalk. I rushed over and lifted his bike and helmet out of the street. He was disoriented (naturally), but not injured.

Almost immediately, a driver pulled over and jumped out of his car. [A very nice, late model BMW convertible.] Had the cyclist been struck by a car, or run into the utility pole? he asked. No, I replied; he just ... fell over.

Each time he tried to stand up, he'd just topple over. He was in no shape to get back on that bike.

The driver insisted that he'd give him a ride home, but couldn't take the bike. The cyclist explained that he lived nearby, and was able to provide his address (and directions). The other woman said she'd take care of bringing the bike—without hesitation, gamely donning the helmet and tapping the address into her phone.

I eased his backpack off before we helped him to his feet, and then the problem became very clear. After helping him into the car, the driver turned to me. “Has he been drinking?” he asked. “Smells that way,” I nodded. It was a small miracle he'd made it as far as he did, navigating through traffic.

Many cars passed by, but three people did not.

There is good in the world. Believe it. Be it.

Just Bike

As much riding as I've done with bike clubs, I've come to appreciate the simple pleasure of hopping on my bike whenever I choose—not having to hew to meeting at a prescribed time and place.

Today was one of those days. After lunch, after the day warmed up, I chose a relatively flat route to reach historic New Almaden and the reservoir beyond. I wanted to gauge the distance and difficulty of this route (which turned out to be hillier than I expected).

I managed to dress just right, for what was surely one of our last warm days of 2022. Holiday decorations are transitioning from inflatable turkeys to Santas (and the occasional Abominable Snowman or Grinch). Trees showered me with falling leaves, and cotton-puff clouds dotted the western sky.

I've introduced one of my neighbors to the quiet neighborhood streets where I prefer to ride, convincingly demonstrating that roads can be more tranquil than the multi-use trails he frequents. As he's opposed to climbing, he would definitely not appreciate the Camden hill (in either direction). Still, I think I can get him out to New Almaden (at least), with less than today's 30 miles and 700-ish feet of climbing. Next outing, whenever that will be.

Hazy Hillsides

You don't get the sweeping view if you don't do the climb.

By the time I reached Bernal, I was ... too warm. I peeled off my wool arm warmers and stuffed my jacket into my bag. I chatted with another cyclist stretching at the base of the climb—he noted that he was wearing a summer jersey. After last week's chill, I'd opted for short-sleeved wool. [Go figure.]

This climb has become familiar enough that the steep start no longer fills me with dread. Being warmed up helps, I'm sure—since it takes me about an hour to get there. In no particular hurry, I reached the top a few seconds faster than my last trip up the hill.

With a short errand added to the mix today, I wound up with about 32 miles and less than 1,000 feet of climbing. No reason not to make this a habit. Really.

Splash of Color

We do get some fall color in the Bay Area, and the point of today's outing was to do some local leaf peeping. [That, and some exercise too: 28 miles and some 440 feet of climbing.]

With my weekend chores done, I hopped on my bike in the afternoon sunshine. Mornings are chilly, days are shorter, and the sun doesn't rise very high in the sky these days.

Could my fingers and toes have been warmer? [Yes.] But the reds, oranges, and yellows overhead were a balm to my spirits as I cruised along the quiet, tree-lined streets of the Almaden Valley.