The Time of Day Matters

During my ongoing stretch of minimal employment, I have gotten into a rhythm of going on rides around 11 AM. That seems to be the perfect time for my body to digest breakfast, put that coffee gut away, but not too late that I'll get hungry on the ride. I'm fortunate to get this part of the day as it's a time when most people work and the roads are clear and the sun is out.

Today, I wasn't so fortunate. I had errands to run and things to do. I assumed they'd take all day, because sometimes I'm really bad at time management. At around 4 o'clock I tried to force myself busy by going to the library. With a few pump of the legs I realized that my legs were feeling good and decided a real ride would be much more rewarding than a trip to the library. I turned around, put on my kit and headed for the hills.

Taking my favorite route up, Shepherds Canyon (this is getting a little too regular for me, I should switch it up), the sun cast shadows on the now empty trees that make the path seem like somewhere I've never been before. The sun glowing gold on the autumn leaves and the trees blank shadows at the gaze of the low sun. I snapped some photos and rode on.

Shepherds Canyon trail, unlike before.

The East Ridge.

At the top of Skyline it seemed different again. I headed towards Grizzly Peak with the sun dropping over the Coastal Range, casting a shadow over the East Bay and San Francisco. It was like I sneaked in a few more minutes of day light. Up to Grizzly Peak the sun continued it's descent, now just resting over the peaks. The sky illuminated it's full range, dark blue to violets to pinks to the yellow just peaking over the horizon.

The sun over the East Bay.

Grizzly Peak Boulevard.

I've always been a fan of sunsets. Some of my favorite photos are of sunsets, the Bolivian sunset on the Salt Flats of Uyuni, the sun sinking behind the Great Lakes in Fredonia, a predecessor to the Pacific sunsets, and here, today, watching the sun drop over the Peninsula's mountains. I'm not sure what it is about sunsets. Maybe it's the fact that watching a sunset is the only way besides sleep to truly put a finishing point to a period of time. We set the clocks back an hour, but the sun stays on schedule, dividing night and day, specifically as the last of the yellow is lost to the horizon. Days not spent watching the sunset, being too busy with chores, errands, jobs, tasks, hobbies what be it, the day just seems to fade into night, but watching the sunset, feels like you can really mark the day as finished.

Casting shadows. 

Watching the sun near it's sunset, I took my least favorite descent home, down Claremont, a breakneck drop with hairpin turns that come out of nowhere. Eventually I'll melt by breaks or pop my tube on this dangerous descent, but the sun was escaping and I needed to get home. Zipping by traffic on the slight descent home, I made it before I had to turn on my lights. My clock said one hour ride time, but it was now near 6, just proving how much time I spent to watch the sun make it's slow arc to the sea.