The Cross Country Tour

I haven't updated in a while, because I have been working on the project of building my cross country map. Of late, my new obsession has been GIS and data mapping. I'm slowly learning different ways of doing things, right now, this is the best I have, using Google Maps and creating a KML file. Enjoy!

Briones

My Marathon Mondials are in their final death throes, so before I replace them and most likely return back to 28 mm tires, I want to try and push these as far as I can, plus with an incoming wet storm, it was time to take advantage of some dry trail and go off-roading. I was also inspired by Rivendell's video on the Diablo foothills, I knew I just had to get away from the pavement for a bit. I checked a book on California's mountain biking trails and set my sights on Briones Regional Park.

One of the silliest things I've always found about mountain biking books is "recommended parking" or "how to get there" where they give you detailed directions by highway. It is definitely my snobbish bike purist showing, but I always prefer to ride to the rides, the times I've summitted Diablo I rode to the base from my house (although after the decent I usually took the Walnut Creek BART back). The ride to Briones was not planning on being a cake walk and I made it even tougher.

I decided to favor a steeper climb to get me over the Oakland Hills quicker through Tilden, choosing the more direct but steeper Claremont Ave. over Old Tunnel Road, which sends me off to the South of Tilden. For some reason, maybe it is actually the tires, but these steep climbs seem much rougher than they were in the fall when I first started riding them, maybe not doing sixty + miles a day had finally worn off my legs. Nevertheless, I pushed and spun over the top into Lomas Contadas once again, to drop down Wildcat Canyon Road.

Skyline Panorama

A view from the top

At the base of Wildcat Canyon Road sent me another challenge, one of the three bears, and it was Papa bear, a steady high climb which helped whip me into shape climbing over it. Luckily I only had a taste of Mama bear before I cut off into Briones Regional Park.

The reservoir from Bear Creek Road.

The beginning of the Briones Road Trail. The pavement didn't last long.

Now that I was in the park the fun began. I started out on Briones Road Trail, I'm assuming what used to actually be a road that connected Briones to Orinda, but now is part of this protected park for cattle ranching and general recreation. The trail turned off into Briones Ridge Trail, the one I chose to ride. Being a ridge trail it, of course, had to climb up, so up I went. The green hills rolled around me until some trees appeared arching over the trail, briefly, as they let back out to California grazing lands. I passed a few cattle guards and made it to the "pass", essentially, where looking back I could see the rolling hills of Briones park and looking forward I could see San Pablo Bay, Martinez, and to the right a cloud covered Diablo. The wind whipped through me on top of that pass. The microclimates in the Bay Area are enough to drive one mad, so far I'd gone from chilly in the clouds to warm in the sun to back in the chilly shade and would jump between those a few more times during the course of the day.

People don't like the Robin's Egg Blue Surly, but it contrasts green so well.

The top of the Ridge

The final section of trail, going down?

From there the trail bobbed up and down on bumpy trail, seemingly patted out by cow hooves in the mud hardened in this dry winter. I could definitely tell I was on a fake hard tail 29er, feeling my arms bounce on the steep downhills and hearing my chain rattle around. Either way, it was worth it. The ups at times were difficult, but I hammered through em. The biggest obstacle though was a group of cows hanging out dead center of the path. I hopped off and walked around them (I'm terrified of getting kicked by a cow or horse, for whatever reason). Crested a few more times bouncing along until the final decent which was the only single track and steep as hell. I squeezed the brakes almost the whole way down and even walked some of it. But I made it. Now it's just Papa Bear and the Oakland Hills one more time. If only that were easy. By the time I had reached the Centennial Drive drop my legs were toast. It was good to get that far of a ride in with a lot of elevation, but I really should master a mountain someday soon.

Late Night Rides

Moving to a new city can be difficult at time. This weekend, I strangely had off from work (I work at a bike rental place, something I will share soon enough). This meant that Saturday morning I could sleep in, so I wanted to do something. Since I work in the city I was trying to find someone to hang out and get dinner or a drink with me after work. Unfortunately, my few friends were busy with their own lives. I still didn't want to waste my Friday night so after work, instead of heading downtown for BART I headed towards the Presidio for a nighttime bike ride.

The summer I first got into riding I also didn't have many friends. Most of my friends were home from college for the summer, while I stayed behind for classes. To fill the time I just rode and explored new things. Friday night's ride felt a lot like this. I started out along the bike path tourists ride from Fisherman's Wharf to the Golden Gate Bridge. I followed around the pitch black Fort Mason to the equally dark Chrissy Field bike path. The path was crushed limestone with some sand encroaching onto the path. I was terrified I'd slip out in the dark. Thankfully, I didn't.

From this path I could see the Golden Gate bridge dimly lit, it gave off an ominous relaxed vibe in the night. I followed along the path until I came to the beginning of the Presidio where I climbed up to try and reach Golden Gate Park. The Presidio is beautiful, and at night, it's even prettier. The old fort buildings were gallantly lit up while the officer's homes, now private residences, were lit in a more casual manner. The park was quiet and I climbed up the Arguello hill out of the Presidio toward Golden Gate Park.

My destination was The Velo Rouge, a great bicycle themed cafe that serves beer. After dropping out of the Presidio I came upon The Velo Rouge, but it was crowded with some band playing (the crowd of the Velo Rouge is usually an older clientel, not really who I wanted to hang out with), so I skipped there and rode on through the park. Golden Gate Park at night is always a pleasant ride. I've done it several times at this point. I saw a group pass-by on a Friday night joyride, before I passed the hippies at the top of Haight Ashbury and dropped down to grab a vegan sausage before heading back to BART.

I was planning on grabbing a drink, but the bars were too crowded for me to really enjoy and after a ten hour work day, I was ready to go home, but I got some miles in and grabbed a new perspective on the Presidio and the bike path through the National Park. Getting dinner with a friend probably would have been nicer, but I seized the night anyway and made the most of it.

[Sorry no photos, my little point and shoot takes awful night photos]

The Smell of Warm Eucalyptus

This morning I left to check out Nimitz Way for the first time. I've passed this pathway a hundred times and desiring to see something new, decided to check out this path up in the Oakland hills at Tilden Park.

Greens and blues.

The drop down Lomas Contadas.

El Toyonal, always nice and shady.

The first thing I noticed before I even left the city of Berkeley was the fact that I was overdressed. I had on a sweater and some leg warmers and they were unnecessary, the sun was shining and the air was warm. The warmth brought out the beautiful smell of eucalyptus which always has me wistful for the first time I smelled those trees on the Pacific Coast in Peru. That smell brought back the memories of exploration and I felt like it was going to be a great ride.

El Toyonal really does feel like going back in time.

Wildcat Canyon Road, going up or going down?

Nimitz Way pavement.

Before I started exploring I hit some of the usual roads, Old Tunnel, Skyline, Grizzly Peak, Lomas Contadas, El Toyonal and Wildcat Canyon Road. After the same old, I pulled into Tilden Park and found the entrance for Nimitz Way next to Inspiration Point. For the first mile or so there was a good deal of hikers and walkers, some dog walkers; using my mechanical advantage I was able to make it farther than these hikers, to the point where I was all alone. The trees kept changing from tall redwoods, to Douglas Firs, to the aromatic Eucalyptus trees I mentioned. Then after crossing some cattle guards the trees were gone and all I saw was rolling green hills. I just lazily rolled along the paved path taking lots of photos. The landscape felt foreign, I imagined it's what Ireland looked like, endless rolling green hills. Unlike Ireland though,  hiding over the hills is the urban sprawl of the Bay, but that was miles away; I was miles away. I made it into Wildcat Canyon Regional Park before I realized I wouldn't have a loop back and decided to just drop down into Centennial Park Drive once again back home.

Look at the High Quality photo of this one, you can see the Golden Gate in the background.

The dam and Diablo in the same shot. I was grinning like a goofy bastard at this point.

The path reaching on until forever.

Today's ride reminded me of why I love cycling: the exploration of something new, the ability to go somewhere you've never seen. I almost considered doing climbs I like, which would have felt more like a workout training ride, I'm glad I didn't, 30 miles clicked away in no time and part of me didn't want to head back home. Nimitz Way continues on all the way until the hills drop down right before the San Pablo Bay to the North. This quick exploration just has me craving more, maybe I'll get in a quick Sub 24 Overnighter soon.

Finally, I'm Back, or Finally, Single Track

Well, here it is, my first post in a good couple of weeks. After my vacation in Florida, my life has been in that strange, weird, stressful cousin of vacation called unemployment, and like a vacation I wasn't living in my own place, I was essentially homeless for a bit there (hopping from couch to couch). But one thing turned around, I found a great place in North Oakland, but unfortunately, the job thing hasn't been going so great. After spending one day begging people for money (i.e. canvassing), I quit. And when I quit I let out my disappointment and rage into the pedals, riding like a psychotic messenger, weaving in and out of cars as I raced top speed through lights. Luckily, I made it home alive and spent the rest of the day as I've spent my last month here in Oakland, filling out job applications.

If you ever want to know what desperation feels like work a day canvassing with a near goose egg in your bank account, woof. All this job garbage has really gotten me losing hair, worrying about rent, or food, or what have you, but there is one fall proof plan to make me feel better, get on the bike and go.

I've been planning on replacing my 40 mm Schwalbe Marathon Mondial's for something a little slimmer (my 28 mm Marathon is still kicking all the way from Chicago, so I want to match that). I've been leaning towards the Vittoria Randonneur Trail, but that's a story for another time. The point is that with those wide nobby tires I should hit trail before I can afford to change them (although I will certainly hang on to these fatty's for some trail touring in the summer hopefully).

Turkeys!

This is a political statement about the city and death of public place. Or it's a picture of Oakland through a  fence.

Marin County may be the  beginning for mountain biking, meaning single track left and right and bike access to nearly every trail. East Bay on the other hand, full of those granola munching hippies from Berkeley, fight to keep steel and aluminum off their trails (even the fire roads in Berkeley don't allow bikes). There are some exceptions when you get beyond the hills, but in the hills there is only one place to go for single track, Joaquin Miller. I was inspired by this video, so I set out for the Cinderella Trail.

Rubber on dirt.

West Ridge Trail, so shady.

Pretty wide fire roads for the most part in Redwoods Regional Park.

I had to get there first. Living somewhere new means a new way into the Hills, a sort of nice way. It doesn't seem as quick coming from West Oakland, unfortunately, but I no longer have to contend with Broadway Terrace, but instead get Tunnel Rd, right away, both old and new, plus Tunnel Rd. has a dedicated bike lane with a roomy buffer zone. Getting into the climb I remembered how much I adore Old Tunnel Rd. mashing my lower gears towards the top with an aggressive cadence, as opposed to grueling out those gears on Claremont or Centennial Dr. Once up top it was the fire roads of Redwoods Regional to get to the other side, where Joaquin Miller is. The fire roads of the West Ridge Trail were fun, but they seemed to only be a prelude for what was to come.

I can see something that can see a lot more than I can.

Single Track!

The West Ridge Trail doesn't necessarily end at the Chabot Space Center, but that's where I quit it. This was where I dropped down from the telescopes toward Joaquin Miller, the sprawling track that rings freedom for bikes. I wasn't sure of the directions of the trail systems, but I was apparently on Castle Trail. On this trail it was beautiful single track. I dashed in and out, the trail dropped (most of Joaquin Miller is on the slopes of the hill, not rounded around the top like most others) and I kept squeezing my breaks in my drops to keep a hold of the bike. If you noticed in that video they had real mountain bikes and full on face protecting headgear, I was on a cross bike with a regular road helmet, yikes. This could be dumb. But I pressed on. I almost lost my tire once in a water divet, thankfully I stayed calm and carried the rear right on through. First day back in single track and no scars to account for.

The blue matches the forest well.

Castle Trail eventually becomes unrideable.

Castle Trail let out to Castle Drive, a descent that seemed like it could be a blast if I knew it, but being new it was mostly brake hugging the whole time. Once out it was back through Montclair down into that weird Berkeley and Oakland border (like really they couldn't just pick one road?) across town back to North Oakland for a brilliant day back on the bike and my first time on single track since I was maybe 14.

Long Island Riding

The snow didn't come until I was long gone from the state of New York, but that didn't mean I kept off the bike when I was at my parent's house on Long Island. I've been dreaming up all these big huge rides to do from their house, located nearly dead smack in the middle of the island, one ride going to the Eastern end and staring off from the end of Montauk (although this would be much better in the summer time with a camping trip), the other going west and crossing the historic Brooklyn Bridge. Unfortunately, I didn't budget my time well enough (or I prioritized other things like a Jets game with my brother and seeing an old friend in Brooklyn) and missed out on both of these rides, so instead I just settled on shorter rides around central Suffolk County.

There are so many trees here, I wonder what it looked like before NYC grew into it.

One of the few and far between bike paths.

Most county parks are donated estates, such as this one hiding behind the trees and lake.

I was not really into cycling growing up (much to the chagrin of my father), it wasn't until I spent my first summer in Buffalo that I realized I could get anywhere I wanted by bicycle in the urban areas, then from there I learned the joys of getting out of the city by two wheels. This love for the closeness of the urban and love of the solitude of the country makes the sprawling suburbs of Long Island a seeming death trap for cycling. I haven't really lived on Long Island with a bicycle much, only spending a week with a bike before my cross-country trip, this would be my second considerable time riding around the island.

Bikeway bridge next to Sunrise Highway, there are a lot of these transportation barriers, between  hardly named rivers and highways.

So there are some nice parts.

The rare urban shot on Long Island. This is Islip village, the South Shore villages dotted along Montauk Highway are actually sort of nice, I even had lunch at a decent vegetarian Chinese place when I took this shot.

South Haven County Park.

I was expecting much less friendly roads, but oddly enough in more carcentric places, shoulders tend to be wider, as they were planned around cars I suppose. One of my first rides was to Bellport to see the bay (which was creeping up on the park) and most of the riding was on quiet back streets and crowded county highways with giant shoulders, while filled with debris, they were very safe giving me plenty of room to ride away from traffic, only turning lanes would become hairy, but no one seemed to cut me off or mind me properly signaling into the road, which was a surprise, maybe they were just surprised to see a bike in that frigid weather (although the lycra covered roadies were making their rounds on Sunday).

Most reserves are pine reserves, where are the oak or maple reserves? Pines think they are so special.

The steed.

These paths seemed so tempting, but right next to this was a  "Hunting in Progress" sign, uh, no thanks.

Cool old single lane bridge.

I made a second trip to the bay through Patchogue, which was just as nice, but two other rides I did were to two preserves, one being Southhaven County Park and the other Rocky Point Natural Resources Management Area, both were in hunting season and closed to mountain biking unfortunately (I did like mountain biking as a kid and Rocky Point was a favorite weekend spot), instead I tried communing with nature by looping the parks. Southhaven was only partially nice, two sides of the park were quiet residential roads covered with a fence obscuring the view of the forest, which was sad, but the lack of traffic made it worthwhile. Rocky Point on the other hand was crap. Only one side didn't have a lot of traffic, and lacking a fence was nice to feel like I was right in the forest, but even on this road there was no shoulder and traffic moved far too fast. I didn't feel safe on any sides of this park unfortunately.

The encroaching bay.

If only I had fat tires for that sand.

Clear roadways.

This is what I ride for.

Urban bike riding has been a rapid investment with most cities buying in heavily, but suburban cycling has been a slow progress. For the most part cycling is still seen as recreation only and recreation cyclists who ride every now and then seem more willing to deal without cycling lanes than those who ride dangerous roads every day. Long Island needs some help, even the new bike lanes seem in odd places and there for the wrong reasons, like the one on Woodside Ave near my parents' house, which was put in as a traffic slowing measure (shrinking two lanes to one in a wide road, which still allows for fast traffic as most drivers drive slow on visually smaller roads, not less laned roadways). Then once you got to the end of Woodside the lane just stops instead of connecting Medford to Patchogue down Route 112 (even some sharrows might help). But, the suburbs were built on cars and designed for people who want them, so for now I'll keep out, maybe missing the ride to Montauk and Brookyln aren't so bad.