Forget Work: I'm Riding

Memorial Day, the unofficial kick off of summer, as May rolls over into June and the bike tourers see the sun and put rubber to pavement and hit the road. My big one doesn't start for a couple more days, but last weekend was an absolutely great kickoff for another adventurous summer. I came across this bike ride through social networking, legimitely social networking, as I saw the Facebook event and figured, I love bike camping and am always down to meet people who are into bike camping as well, so Saturday morning I loaded up my bike and headed off for BART to catch up with a group ride down the coast and some camping.

Getting set at San Bruno BART

The top of Sharp Park Road.

After some final preparations and introductions at the San Bruno BART, the 14 of us set off around 10 AM, for a week of bikes and camping. As with any BART ride, the beginning was ugly suburbs, and required a heavy climb out of San Bruno with traffic and the gray only made the scene bleaker. We regrouped at the top then dropped down the sweeping descent of Sharp Park Road to the coast, where the sun was waiting to greet us. From there our ride leader, Woody, took us to the Planet of the Apes, sharing it with some people for the first time. There was concern about skinny tired road bikes, but I was the only one to blow a flat on here, way to go me (bad time to experiment with lower tire pressure, oh well).

Descending Planet of the Apes

From Planet of the Apes it was onward to Half Moon Bay, unfortunately, this meant sticking to CA-1, the popular bike touring road, but always heavily trafficked (and thankfully, continually expanding shoulders, but I still think work needs to be done). Half Moon Bay was a longerish stop for lunch and groceries. It was a little tough getting 14 people on the same page, but we finally started out from there. This was where our pace really picked up and we cruised along the coast, despite some rack malfunctions and ingenious tube latching, we made real good time that we made it to our campsite with hours of daylight to spare.

The bikes lined up at Half Moon Bay.

The boats in the Half Moon Bay Harbor, surprised to see so many docked on the three day weekend.

Then the best part about group bike camping began, the cooking, hanging, and chilling at camp. This was something I never really had a chance to enjoy during solo touring, for me, it was mostly about riding, but the campsite, located at Green Oaks Farms outside of Pescedaro, an organic farm with full outdoor kitchen and outhouse (handicamping is what someone called this, I find that fitting). We had some great cooks help out with dinner as well as some vigorous games of Cards Against Humanity. A 55 mile day for day one and everyone had made it with little wear.

Day Two was the off-day, the day to go out and adventure. There was very little plan of what to do. I had found some light trail that I wanted to hit, but wasn't sure if anyone would be into it after the day before's long ride. Originally it seemed as if people were going into town to Pescedaro, but there was only one member of our group who did that, instead it seemed that the trip to the trail and waterfall was the most popular choice, with the rest choosing the beach.

Meadows and bikes.

The trail was the Skyline to Sea trail, a rough hiker route that is an 8 day backpacking hike from the mountains to the sea, but the section near the sea is open to biking so that's where we hit. The ride was a great introduction to mountain biking for some who had never been before, one of our members, Jessica, was even on a Fuji road bike and was able to manage most of the trail (there were a few technical sections that only the experienced Woody was able to tackle). It was the perfect introduction to trail for a lot of our group, then it was a short hike to a waterfall nestled within the redwoods, where some of us bravely faced the chilly water to cool off from the ride.

The group on the coast (early photos because my camera died outside of  Half Moon Bay, d'oh!)

After the falls, we saddled up and raced back to our campsite for pie from the Pie Ranch, an organic pie shop on Highway 1 that grows everything they put in the pie on site. Busting out those trails made our crew hungry for sweets and we all made it back in time for pie (I opted out, but man those pies were tempting me  to break vegan). The second night had another great dinner and great fire to sit by before calling it a night.

The third day our group shrank some as some members decided to catch rides back into the city, while the rest of us chose to bike down to Santa Cruz and figure it out from there. Once again Highway One shared some brilliant views on the way south. We stopped at Swanton Berry Farms (10 percent discount for cyclists and a nice touring bike log) for some more pastries that I could only watch people eat as I stuffed my own face of peanut butter (these are the things I miss from a less restricted diet is these neat little places that I can only marvel at as an outsider, but alas, it's my decision and I am sticking with it). From there we hit some more trail along the coast, zigging and zagging along the bluffs overlooking quaint little coves. The trail brought us right into SC.

Rolling along.

This was now my first time in Santa Cruz, unfortunately, I can't say that I really got a good look at it. We stood at the base of the pier and Woody pointed out the boardwalk and the pier, but people were anxious to figure out how to return. I wasn't. I planned to ride. We had one last meal together at a diner (where I could get vegan food, yes!). Then we all parted ways.

There was a small group that stayed in the Santa Cruz area to ride back tomorrow, there was a group taking the bus home, then there was me and Jessica. We were the only two who took up the challenge of riding to San Jose then taking Cal Trans home. Woody once again pointed us in the right direction and off we went. I had always been wanting to ride these beautiful mountains so was completely excited and now with a group of two we set a good pace climbing the mountain. It was a long sustained slope, not a steep one, but a noticeable one. The best part of the climb was having a climbing partner, we chatted the way up and before we new it we made our turn near the top. We cut north and began the fabulous descent down Old Santa Cruz Highway. The road was the perfect grade with the best bends, I hardly fluttered the brakes as the road swept around the redwood groves and before I knew it we were sitting next to the Los Gatos Reservoir, coming up on our final destination.

The last leg was the peaceful Los Gatos Creek Trail, with plenty of day light to go we gently crushed the last bit and pulled into San Jose. Now it was my turn to eat as we ventured over to the Veggie Grill. We took our time in San Jose and around 8 30 we finally packed in our food and hit the road for the lest leg towards CalTrain. When we got to the Santa Clara CalTrain station we checked the schedule and 9 : 05 was our train, and the last one! We were that close to missing the last train thanks to our complacency at the end, go figure! Thank the heavens we made that train and were able to relax on the way home.

All in all the weekend was about 145 miles, but the miles don't matter, the people mattered. Being a foreigner to their group I was very pleased to feel at home with these people very quickly. No one was snobbish, no one was uninviting, no one was unfriendly. There were multiple levels of riding (as to be expected) but no one felt like they were holding back the group or being held back, everyone was glad to be riding along with people, taking the weekend off to ride some bikes. This is planned to be an annual event (this being year two) and I really hope I can make it work again next year.

"The Future is Unwritten"

Things never seem carefully planned, but instead just happen. Sometimes it feels like there is a movement that sweeps you up til you don't really know where you are going and your best bet is to steer the general course and get swayed as you can. This is the story of bike touring; some people plan every day to a tee, but that is rare, because there are so many x-factors in cycle touring, from mechanicals to weather to sickness. Things just happen and the direction is the only thing that may be deliberate. And sometimes this is how life happens.

Two weeks from now I'll be living without a roof for another summer. Not necessarily strictly bike touring, but two bike tours will sandwich my summer plans; that being a camp counselor at Camp Mendocino, run by Boys and Girls Club of San Francisco. This will be an interesting summer of outdoor adventuring.

The adventure doesn't end camp, but only continues from there as I'll have Aug 11th - Aug 31st before I can come back to my apartment. That's 20 days on the road. Where to go is the question and that's what makes this tour so nice is that there is no destination but only time. The only destination after camp will be to Auburn CA on August 31st for the California Sierra Trail Race.

Now, I'm not much of a racer, but am very much competitive with myself (as the Nifty Ten Fifty can attest to). The CSTR is an endurance trail race, similar to the Tour Divide (which there is a great documentary about this race encapsulating the loneliness of cycle touring very well) or the Stagecoach 400. These races interest me in there challenge of both the physicality of cycling, the mental struggle of pushing over barriers, the smarts of time/body management, and then of course the cleverness in camping on a race like this. The CSTR is one of the newer of these races (currently in its infancy), this I think is partially what draws me to it, and the fact that most people who have done these trails say they are beautiful and not super tough. This will be my first adventure in lightweight bikepacking and off roading (yes I am taking the X-Check, changes coming).

New gear...changes coming.

So here is the rough tentative schedule:

June 1st - June 11th: Tour to Fort Bragg (stops? Not sure, just exploring the Sonoma County backroads seems fun)

June 11th - August 11th: Camp!

August 11th - August 31st: Tour around (might go North, might stretch out to NV, who knows).

August 31st: California Sierra Trail Race.

So two more weeks and the adventure begins. I'm currently building up my kit to get back on the road. Sometimes you don't have to look for adventure, sometimes it finds you.

From Generation to Generation

As a child, I remember at an early age getting into bicycles. It's true that it is a right of childhood to learn to ride a bike and zip it up and down the block. But I suppose mine might have been a little different, being the fact that my father was an avid cyclist, a brief Cat 5 racer and eventually falling into the category of cycle-tourist. I remember distinctly as a kid my interest was in mountain biking, road riding never interested me, and I was always confounded by my dad's interest in this seemingly blase style of riding. What fun is it if you're not going over tree roots and bopping over rocks. Maybe it had to do with being an angsty teenager, trying to fit in, but I never caught on to my dad's obsession with bikes. It just never stuck... That is until I began living in Buffalo, NY and began using a bike as a commuter, as a means of getting somewhere. No longer was it about riding in circles for exercise (as most Americans view bicycles) but it was about getting somewhere. This was exactly what my dad loved about cycle touring, you go somewhere, you see something. He still shares stories with me, about touring the Midwest during a tornado, or conquering the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It seems every time I know every story of his, I find a new one, like today he shared a story of the moose tour ride he had in Maine, exploring the backwoods of Maine into Quebec. It's a shame it took me so long to understand what he loved so much about cycling but now I'm hooked.

Bottechia head decal.

Campy headset and Cinelli stem; bella.

Steel lugs.

This all comes about as I've had a chance to return to Long Island and catch up with my father once more, who has himself been getting back into riding (I blame it on being an empty nester, even my mother is getting involved). I've also had a chance to look at his bikes with a new understanding of these machines. That being said I had a chance to pull out his beautiful steel frame Bottechia racing bike. It truly is a work of art with simple, but decadent lugs and fully equipped with Campy groupset and Cinelli headset and bars. With his permission I decided to spend the afternoon taking out this beauty.

So photogenic.

The bike out was not a super smooth ride, but a quick one. The skinnier tires and stiff frame meant I felt the road, but every push got me farther than my Cross-Check would have gotten me. With a few quick pumps the bike is sitting around top speed. The bike is incredibly responsive and handles like a breeze. Unlike new bikes that are all about smoothness or responsiveness, this bike had character with it's seeming touch to the road and it's responsiveness. Plus it looks super sweet, the aesthetic hung on from the 70s road bikes (but I believe this is an 80's frame). I took it for a quick spin to the beach (including a nice fall thanks to clipless pedals, which in reality I should switch over to for around town and day rides, still not convinced for long touring) and enjoyed some of the sunshine.

The Bay and the bike.

This is not my dad's every day bike, he now reps his Cannondale touring frame more so (it has a much less aggressive set up), but it is a quality frame and it was great to feel that same connect my father had had with riding and even share his pride and joy of a bike. And like him I was able to feel some nostalgia going around town passed some of my old haunts. It's strange seeing these places with a new perspectives, with my feet on the pedals and seat on the saddle as opposed to idly passing by in a car. I passed all the places I drank beers as a teenager, all the stupid shit we sat on, and of course my first upstarts and failures as a kid. It was a really strange experience to see this town with new eyes and old sentiments on a bike that I'm sure holds sentimental value for my father as well.

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Breaking Down Barriers

Last week passing through the Planet of the Apes was a bumpy somewhat off road adventure that was a total blast. But I remember at the top when meeting those other cyclists, before I stopped I heard one of the guys on a mountain bike mention "The roadie is most likely going that way", referring to me pointing down the mostly paved section that drops out to Highway 1. It was weird, because I feel like a huge anti-roadie, taking my bike everywhere, hopping curbs, riding in the rain, dirt, mud, but for whatever reason, most likely my thinner tires and drop bars had me mistaken for a roadie. So since then I've decided it's time to get back on the trail I've been craving for; I saddled up and headed for the Ridge Trail in Redwood Regional Park.

This dude followed me all the way up Snake.

The Ridge Trail that connects the Redwood staging area with the Lake Chabot staging areas in Redwood Park has been often designated as a "beginner fire road". I had taken the Western section before to the observatory and remember it being not so bad, so I decided to head in that direction, as opposed to the East.

These Salsa Cowbells are meant for light trail, but don't function all that well on them.

Do Redwoods ever stop being cool?

With unBay like 70 degree sunny weather (especially in the hills), Redwood was packed. When I arrived at the park dog walkers and joggers were everywhere, but few bikes. The lone cyclist at the trailhead I rolled my 28 mm onto the dirt and started heading south along the contours of the hills. The beginning section wasn't so bad, my bike bobbed and bounced, but nothing too crazy. There were a few points to dip back out to the road, but I was feeling daring and pressed on, shooting up some short steep climbs and back down the other side.

This woman had trouble getting down this steep hill. I had an even more troubling time, but I kept rubber side down!

I still like distant hills.

It wasn't long before I had reached the observatory once more and decided to see what lay beyond my last stopping point. Little to my knowledge the trail gets a little rougher here. Still considered a fire road I suppose, with a wide gerth, but a lot of the trail is very rocky and on top of that some parts are incredibly steep. As much as I wanted to ascribe to the idea of any bike anywhere, there were points where I was clearly ill equipped for this kind of terrain, my Salsa Cowbell bars were my biggest disadvantage. Riding on the hoods gave me great control and no braking or I could ride in the drops with good braking but poor handling. I switched back and forth between the two several times, until I figured out, not having braking ability is terrifying, and faced these downhills in a low position in the drops. There were points where I was almost certain I was going to bail and of course these are always at the points right near hikers, no one ever falls when no one is watching, right?

Creek at the end of West Ridge Trail. This was near where I saw all the Mountain Bikers unloading their bikes from their SUVS.

Tilden Park creek. I sat here for a long time, feeling miles away from the city.

Despite the challenges of the bike, the trail was quiet and scenic and this is why I'm trying to get back on trail. Sure there are definitely roads that can lead to solace, but nothing like a trail can. There were no cars passing by and at points nothing could be seen but the trail and the backside of the hills blanketed in green trees. That's what I'm in search of and why I still am in love with this place, because these places are so close. There weren't even crazy hardcore mountain bikers to tear up the trail and ruin the mood, it was just quiet. I was so in love with this ride I repeated a shorter one to Tilden the following day to a silent creek near Lake Anza. These places are so close and it's becoming obvious almost any bike can take you there. Now that the weather is breaking and trails are drying up along the West Coast there's no better time to try getting out on trail and if your bike isn't quite suited, so be it, hike and bike are better than dealing with motorcycles up your ass.