East Ridge Trail - Redwoods Regional Park

As a child, for whatever reason, I loved mountain biking. I'm not sure if it was the extreme sports side of me (I grew up on Tony Hawk, skateboards, Van sneakers, and punk rock) or if it was the wilder side of me, the side that would eventually fall in love with nature hiking and the outdoors (which is part of why I became a cycle). Getting back into cycling as a twenty something, I was mostly a city rider, where my destinations were just as important as the riding, sometimes more so as a commuter. Eventually this thrill of finding new places led me to become a touring cyclist. But the one thing these all shared in common was pavement.

Recently, for equally mysterious reasons, I've gotten back into off-roading. Maybe my introduction to bikepacking led me back to the off roads, or it was the national forests and the dirt roads that just disappeared into the forests, or perhaps it's my current location being just south of where it arguably started, Marin County. Either way, there are a plethora of trails in the greater San Francisco Bay Area. The combination of these factors led me to use my cross bike for what it was intended, cross-riding, or at least the combination of on-road and off-road.

In my previous rides I've always admired the mountain bikers who spin their granny gear to get up to Tilden, Redwoods, or Joaquin Miller Regional Parks to trailheads, the people who drove their SUVs there, not so much. With the advantage of a lighter frame, I blasted up the hillside on familiar roads, reaching Redwoods Regional Park, just on top of the Oakland Hills. Crossing the barrier of the old fire road, it began.

The sun shining over the West Ridge. 

Fire roads.

Every bench had a beautiful view.

It didn't take long for me to get completely out of it. Just a quick drop, curve, bend, rise, and it felt worlds away. I chose the Eastern Ridge, the ridge opposite the city side, with panoramas over the East Bay burbs to the Diablo Range. On the other side was the West Ridge, rising taller than the East Ridge it blocked away the noise and sights of the city and instead intimately laid trees in the perfect proximity, almost close enough to study, but far enough to take in as a scene.

The trees would cover in the path, giving quick rides in the dark.

The West Ridge.

I wish I knew trees better, but this one was beautiful.

I bumped along the trail, kindly calling out my passes for the hikers, mountain bikers will always be guests to hikers (the slower ride always gets the right of way, if only cars could embrace this on the roadway). It seemed at the top of every rise there sat a bench, quietly facing out onto the trees. One stood out in particular though. Oddly hugging a strange bend in the ridge, this bench sat facing north, where sitting down you could place the foreground of the East Ridge to the backdrop of the Diablo range, while still looking on to the road to your left that dips quickly into a tree covered trail, shrouded in mystery.

Looking north with the Ridge to the right and the Diablo range to the left.

Better view of the path swooping back East, with Diablo in the background.

The dark and mysterious path. It almost looks like single track here.

Dropping this trail, it didn't take long for me to pop back out on the other side, back to Pinehurst Ave, a road I've ridden many a time before, except this time I had to stop to clear the mud off my fender (note to self, get better fenders/remove fenders). My first foray into the off road realm since being a kid, and I'm already eager to get back out there. Not to say getting back on the roads was not fun, I took my favorite descent home, listening to the knobs as they buzzed along on the descent.

Surly Blue with Mother Earth Brown, a sweet sweet combination.