Today it is raining and will be for the next few days. Yesterday I went for a bicycle ride and I wish to convey the experience with you. The writing will probably take longer than the two and a half hour ride!
So here goes;
The cold air scraped across the bits of my face not covered with white beard as I zoomed down the steep hill which is my street and headed for the road below. I slowed at the bottom to make sure there was no traffic before turning right and entering the empty road, there I began to pedal and quickly realized I was in too high a gear and 3 short clicks on the lever found me some resistance at the pedals, so away I went.
One van passed me on the way to the slip out on the road where I got in the queue and waited for the traffic light to change to green. The glowing red orb went off and the green one lit up and again I was flowing down the street on my magic carpet, the slight downhill run short and cool. Too soon the T in the road was upon me and I had to slow and cross the Highway as there was not another vehicle in sight.
My desired route took me to the left today and quickly there was the right turn I desired under the leaden sky and covered in gravelly mud from last weeks runoff. Still fresh and cold I went up the lazy incline for a mile crossing the many shallow streams of runoff from a saturated soil. The new grasses were all a bright Irish green yet the deciduous trees still had leaves clinging to the branches. As I moved along I could see the homes and gardens and no longer loved cars among the briers. But this road ends and I must go to the left and ride on a smaller more trafficked Highway.
Here is where the ribbon of pavement begins to climb, by now I have committed myself to the ride and legs powerfully churn circles as I pick the right gear to keep my cadence up. A few cars pass but the road is strangely empty. I can hear the music of Boulder Creek down in it's bed falling over rock and root on it's way to the San Lorenzo River. As I look down upon it I see the channel some 30 feet below cuttin thru the limestone like a mini Grand Canyon and I wonder what will it look like in a million years........
By now the constant gentle climb has warmed my body under the bright yellow cycling jacket and woolen jersey but I keep on going as the Sun begins to send it's warming rays dancing between the clouds. All too soon the real climbing begins an I know I must stop to remove the yellow jacket which gives me a sense of security for motorists but the sweating will be too much if I delay. So off it comes and into my hydration pack amongst the first aid kit and toilet paper.
By the monastery the road climbs a hairpin curve and ascends to yet another in the cool shade of the mighty redwoods trees dark with the damp from all the rain of late. There duff covers the forest floor to a dull red as the runoff wends it way down to Boulder Creek. Above the second hairpin the pave steepens and the trees have left it open to the sun which has taken this time to shine upon me with all it's midwinter glory. Yet still I climb for another 2 miles..., some 6.5 from my house the old road on the right beckons me.
The old pavement is faded and patched and potholed and patched as I move away from the highway. Up, I still go up and the trees close back in around me and the sounds of my puffing and the knobs on my tires accompany the few chirps of the birds feeding on the seed laying upon the faces of the small mudslides that once flowed over the road. Here I can make out the zziz, zziz, zziz of one of my disc brakes slightly hitting the brake pad with every rotation. Lodge Road (in my mind) used to be the original way into Big Basin State Park, the pavement is old there and has been spottily maintained for decades. Oh!, but the trees and the climb, the solitude and serenity when I get up to the 1697' elevation at mile 7.8 of my adventure makes all the effort worthwhile as I sit on an old bleached dry log and take in the peacefullness of the dank forest.
Then after putting on my colorful jacket I speed away down the bumpy old pavement with the suspension again making my ride a magic carpet as I pass stacked cut wood of oak and bay and some redwood, it seems the park has been doing some culling and clearing along the road, perhaps in anticipation of the fire season yet to come. The work has left sticks and debris on the road making for more objects to avoid besides the usual potholes and duff. For three and a half miles the road goes downhill curving along on the side of the hill then dipping down over a bridge, below a fast moving unnamed creek, and quickly up the other side only to resume the fast downhill ride to the Park Headquarters.
Virtually empty today a few cars and a Chinese family eating lunch out of a cardboard box in front of the store all dressed in what looks like down jackets. The young boy is bored and wanders around the picnic area doing circles to something he can only see in his brain. None of them acknowledge me by eye contact. So I eat my chocolate chip Cliff Bar, remove my jacket again for the climb to come. Since the storms of late have been windy and very wet I checked at the Ranger's office with the petite, pretty, brown haired woman(shades of Charlie Brown!) to see if North Escape Road was passable. She replied that she is not certain and has heard that some trees have come down. I let her know that I intend on going up on the highway and riding down North Escape and will let her know if something untoward is found.
A quick visit to the potty and I was off!
Climbing, the road sign states the San Francisco is only 67 miles away this-a-way. There is reddish brown duff everywhere, except on the main part of the freshly paved road and water crosses it in many places as I begin to feel the challenge of my efforts. Climbing, slow but sure I am doing sometimes 6mph and sometimes 4mph as the hill goes up in a Cat 4 climb, I pass the spot I used to stop and rest, back when I couldn't ride all the way to the top without stopping a few times. "Climbing makes you stronger!" I listen for cars behind me, but none come, that is a good thing for I like using the whole road and relish the sights of oak and madrone along the roadside overshadowed by the towering redwood of California's first State Park. Climbing, ever anon it seems and each false summit or curve in the road has to be the last one as my fiery thighs demand. Yet still I climb, up where the sandstone, once uplifted eons ago changes the ecosystem to mesquite and oak and redwoods. Suddenly I see where the road narrows and I know that this is the top. As I swing into the right turn a car comes out the other side of the 1652' high crest some 14.4 miles into my storm beating adventure ride.
Quickly the earth drops out beneath me and the bike and I plummet down a few hundred feet to the top of North Escape Rd. the Sun has retreated behind the clouds and the temperature and I drop down the shambles of a road. A misshapen, humped, windy road, the top is clean from the duff that pervades the forest, but all to soon it reappears along with windblown branches and clumps of oak leaves rotting in the road. I stop to clear a few branches and continue to flow down the old track. Near the bottom a couple hundred feet above Opal Creek, the road is covered by a backed up culvert and sheets of water pour along the road until it finds release on the far side, beyond that lies a fallen soldier, an oak that could not withstand the pummeling of the wind and rain, it's white trunk cracked and broken blocking the old road. Picking up my steed we crossed the trunk near the base where it had broken, inner wood dark from sap and wet.
Again I go downhill losing the hard fought altitude I had gained until I came upon an old redwood lying across the road his body so soft peoples had kicked their way thru it and I rode over the soft remains of it's innards. Not much further 2 more redwoods nearly blocked the road, one had broken off and speared the pavement with it's 20" diameter shaft, while it's brother leaned completely across the road from hillside to hillside making a triangular frame of the woods beyond. All too soon I was at the bottom rolling along with Opal Creek between me and the Skyline to the Sea Trail. The temperature must have been 15 degrees lower at the bottom, almost in meditation I was lost in the soft greens, browns and reds of the forest as they vacuumed up the sounds of my breathing, the hum of my tires and the zziz of my rubbing brake. I was happy to have my cycling jacket back on for the descent and the ride back to Park Headquarters.
Once there I waited for the petite ranger and gave her my report on N. Escape, which she dutifully recorded. While she was away I espied about 5 Japanese men who had ridden their mountain bikes from somewhere. One made eye contact and waved, the rest ignored me(?). I also helped a woman who was patiently waiting for a map and some information about the Waddell Creek portion of the Skyline to the Sea Trail.
Removing my bright yellow jacket I mentally geared up for the last climb, from Park Headquarters at 1119' to Little Basin at 1511', a 392' climb in 2.68 miles. The real climb though is the last 1.33 miles when you go up 339 feet! I chugged my way to the top as the sky continued to darken in advent of the coming storm and the weeds along the side of the road grasped desperately at me to try to pull me to a stop. Emotions soaring as I made the top I pulled over and re-inserted myself into that bright yellow jacket for the four mile downhill back into town.
\ It is highspeed, fresh paved last autumn and only 2 20mph turns you have to use the brakes on(remember the hairpins on the climb up?). The air whipped at my face and tears formed in my eyes as things went blurry around thirty miles per hour and I topped out at almost 32mph. Not a single car on the road so the whole smooth black ribbon was mine, all MINE! I came to the rolling bottom land that follows Boulder Creek into town as it passes China Grade just floating along in top gear trying to keep the blood flowing and clear the lactic acid buildup out of my legs. Flying past the golf course at 15mph I watched my average speed climb up from 8.6mph to 9 and then to 10.22mph by the time I reached the low spot at the stop sign in town.
A rolling stop at the sign and I turned left to head home, climbing, slightly, but with the right onto Bear Creek Rd it goes sharply up and gains about 20 feet in 100, that always get me at the end of a ride. Then it climbs some more, not much maybe only another 20 feet in 3/8 of a mile and I use this time to do a cool down. I was tired, too tired to try to climb my hill a 100 ft climb in three tenths of a mile.
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed the 2 beers after the ride! And it took me an hour less to write than it did to ride......
Now go for a ride!
