Capitol State Forest

 

The plans were loose when my friend Gabi invited me to Olympia for her spring break (she works as an educator). All her plans had fallen through and I was nervous about missing work, but when she said she was driving and that I could take my bike, I was in.

I scoured Google Maps trying to find a good place to ride. Google searches were useless so I decided to just try and see what was there. A stones throw from the tiny capital of Washington was the Capitol Forest a 91,000 acre state forest that just seemed to scream gravel roads, perfect for my monster crossed Surly. I dedicated a full day hoping that the rains wouldn't soak me through; thankfully, they didn't.

Unlike the dead grass of CA, WA is very green.

I love me some maps. The State Capitol Forest maps are very modern and detailed.

Their signs on the other hand were rustic and faded.

These are a geological mystery called the Minna Mounds, a giant field of lumps. The most unsettling part of here was the sound of the nearby rifle range.

The trail passed creek after creek after creek.

These were the bridges. Very nice trail work.

I had no set destination but I saw waterfall and figured I should try to find it. I thought I missed it, but was stoked when I found it. There was a sweet little campsite right next to it too. Wish I had more time, some friends along, and my camping equipment for this place. Some day, maybe.

Mossporn.

Rainier looks over Olympia and everything else. I never had an interest in mountaineering until I saw this giant mountain, just staring it somehow invites you to try and get on top of it and see what it looks like from there looking down as opposed to being down here and looking up.

Down with equestrian snobbery. Up with bikeable singletrack.

After a brutal singletrack up, I decided to hop on what I really came here for, some gravel grinding.

The logging road was paved after a big, I guess with the rain this makes sense. I remember my host in Bend, OR describing how on the West side everything was paved because of the rain and for cost savings on the East side, the dry side, it was unpaved, making the West side roadie heaven and East for mountain bikes. 

Every sign had at least a half dozen bullet holes in it. When I left my friend told me that Capitol Forest is where people go to shoot their guns. I prefer all black kit, no hunter's orange. Glad I didn't get shot.

Tale of Two Dirt

Last week I went on two different off road rides. Putting rubber on dirt inspires me to keep getting at it (my last few "base" rides have had me descending out of the hills on dirt).

Mondirt

This was originally inspired by my friend Jillian who agreed that Mondays we should ride and we should ride far. We never really got that dialed in (we both have awkward work schedules), but my friend Alan had even furthered it by actually having Mondays off and riding. We just did a little ditty in the East Bay Hills (Redwood and JMP) hopefully I'll have future Mondays off to ride more.

This is our backyard.

This was the day after that huge weekend. These ups were hurting.

Sometimes you gotta walk (this climb sucks the eucalyptus leaves don't help).

This ain't SF; it's Oakland.

Alan's steed.

      

Bolinas Ridge

Ever since seeing Cass Gilbert write about Bolinas Ridge Trail on While Out Riding, I've wanted to hit that sweet bit of dirt. It was a Weds so it was solo riding. This one was tough on a cross bike, but still doable (cows make bumpy trails though).

Sir Francis Drake Redwoods.

Pastoral.

The route up.

Some of this led to...

Some of this.

The top.

Eucalyptus.

Details.

Ocean.

Click any of the photos out to my Flickr for more pics and for hi-res versions.

Day 2 of Exhaustion

 

A mere 7 hours after completing the SFR 300k, and on a scant 5 hours of sleep, my alarm jarred me awake. It was time to get another ride in. I donned the garbs, prepped the gear, pushed open my front door into a still lamp lit morning, only to look down to a cellphone SMS telling me that my riding partner would be meeting me in Dublin as opposed to riding out from Oakland. Well, no point in turning back now, so I pushed off into the darkness toward the Oakland hills.

The early hours hurt. There is no denying that going up Redwood Road hurt more than it's ever hurt before. My legs were on fire and my morale was low. Not enough coffee just had me wishing the miles away. A strong headwind even further sunk my efforts across the shallow grade of Castro Valley Boulevard. I was glad to make it to Dublin, but wasn't sure how much I had left in me. I searched for a Starbucks or a Safeway, about the best these far East Bay suburbs have to offer, and reluctantly settled on a Panera Bread. I pulled out my phone and another friend, who was originally to meet out in Dublin had now bailed as well. I had felt like giving up. I checked in with Keli, to see her ETA, she was close. I figured I'd let her make the decision. She had fresh legs, so she wanted to destroy it, and god damn it, I'm glad she pushed me to do those extra miles in those brutal hills. The route was the Pitter Patter Pop (Patterson Road Populaire from San Francisco Randonneurs) and features one of those epic roads that truly must be ridden if you live feasibly close to a BART station.

After a bunch of suburban housing developments the roads opened up to green pastureland with distant hills.

Those distant hills became abruptly close.

I mean, REALLY close. I wish there were a better way to capture how epic the Earth split here.

Climbing is easy, whatever.

I still ponder at this sign. I get bikes, or long trucks, but pedestrians? Strange.

We both agreed not to agree that this next hump was the finish, but secretly I think we both decided it was the end until...

We crested and saw this, damnit!

The top for real.