To celebrate 30 years of LGBT cycling we’re powering up the Way Back machine to revisit some club favorites from back in the day. There are rides which have always been popular—Mt. Tam, Mt. Diablo, Nicasio, Tiburon Loop, the Three Bears, etc.—and they’re popular just because they are iconic Bay Area rides: everybody does them! But there are rides which we no longer offer or offer infrequently that were popular in the early days of the club. Our club was founded by recreational cyclists who had a strong interest in touring. Not surprisingly the ride calendar in the early 1980s is populated with a number of overnight or multi-day tours usually involving camping. Nowadays those have fallen almost completely out of favor. Today if there is going to be an overnight ride, it better to involve something more comfortable than a tent (ALC excepted)…like a day spa, 300-thread count sheets, and room service! At the time Different Spokes was founded, mountain biking was just beginning to thrive but you don’t see any such rides appear in number on the calendar until the late 1980s (probably due to Derek Liecty’s proselytizing). In a few cases early rides were club favorites because a particular ride leader loved that ride (or it was convenient for him or her) and offered it often.

For this series I have gone back to the first five years of the club and looked over the ride calendars to find the some of the popular and interesting rides. From this select group I’ve chosen 12 rides, one for each month this year. Here is a short narrative of each ride and why it was included. For more details please refer to the DSSF Ride Calendar listings. If you’re interested in co-leading any of these rides, be sure to give me a holler. I should note that dates are undecided at this point for everything after May, and more information will follow later in the year. Also, as with everything in life this schedule is subject to change.

January: Portola Valley and Cañada Road. These are both still popular today but are offered only occasionally as club rides. The Portola Valley loop is the standard mid-Peninsula training route and you’ll see large numbers of riders even on weekdays. On weekends it’s practically a parade out there. (Okay, I am exaggerating a little.) Cañada Road is usually ridden out and back from Woodside. But since most Spokers in the early days lived in the City, it was common also to lead the ride from the Highway 92 end into Woodside. I’ve combined these two rides into one easy ride because of another change: in the early days it seems folks didn’t mind driving somewhere to do a 15-25 mile ride. Today a lot of people wouldn’t think it was worth the time to come for such a short ride!

February: Sunol Valley. One clear theme emerges from the early ride calendars: get the hell out of SF during the summer and ride somewhere where one could get a tan! Although he didn’t invent the ride, former member Kevin Anderson took to it with relish because he happened to live in Pleasanton. (Older members may recall Kevin’s alter egos, the infamous Flo Velcro and Rex Flash Mountain Biker!) The ride had variations depending on where it started. The shortest ones were just to the Pleasanton Waterslide for sun, fun, and a little eye candy. This year’s route will be just a bit longer! It will start at Castro Valley BART and go to Sunol and return by Palomares, which itself is another classic Different Spokes ride. So, it’s actually a mash-up of two old faves. Another two-fer!

March: The American River Bike Trail. Derek Liecty popularized this ride, and it took the club just a bit out of the Bay Area “comfort zone” up to the Jedediah Smith Memorial Trail, which goes 31 miles from old town Sacramento to Folsom Lake along the scenic American River. Again, it got SF folks out of the fog and into the sunnier clime of the Sacramento Valley for some needed relief. The Trail as far as Nimbus Dam, about 21 miles, is dead flat. Although it’s in an urban environment, the Trail cleverly manages to stay fairly nature-y and avoid the most egregious and ugly development. Did I mention that it’s dead flat?

April: The Apple Blossom. Being so far north in Sebastopol has probably contributed to this ride completely fading from club memory. It was a very popular ride in its day, but now we’re all too busy to “waste” time to drive there for a “short” ride, right? But it is indeed well worth the time and effort. The classic route roves through the apple orchards of southwestern Sonoma County, which is populated by a myriad of punchy but short hills. It provides a quintessential rural cycling experience. This year’s route does the classic, short ride to Occidental and then adds a second loop north of Sebastopol for those who want more miles.

May: Healdsburg Winery Ride. Starting in Healdsburg—even further north than Sebastopol—this route takes in the wineries along Westside Road, which runs from the Russian River to downtown Healdsburg. In its day it was a popular ride with a lunch stop at Hop Kiln Winery and some indiscreet wine tasting. This loop also used to be the “easy” option for the Russian River Weekend Saturday ride. It’s slightly rolling and flat, with no serious climbs. This year I have added an out-and-back to the Jimtown Store north of Healdsburg for a fabulous lunch stop before returning to downtown Healdsburg.

June: This one is still in flux because of June’s packed schedule with ALC and Pride. It will probably either be the Sonoma-Napa Ridge ride or Mt. Tam by Moonlight. Here is a description of each:

(1) Sonoma-Napa Ridge Ride. To my knowledge this ride was led only once during the first five years of the club’s existence, and Michael John, the club’s second President, was the ride leader. This ride starts in downtown Santa Rosa and takes Mark West Springs and Franz Valley Road over the ridge to Calistoga for lunch. The return route may have been any of the climbs up and over the ridge, either Petrified Forest, Kortum Canyon, or Diamond Mountain Road, but it went by the Petrified Forest Museum and then back to Santa Rosa.

(2) Mt. Tam in Moonlight. This was one of the very few Different Spokes night rides, and believe it or not, it was started in 1984. Mountain biking was just beginning to take off, but this was a road ride up a dirt path on Mt. Tam! Former President Michael John must have led this ride a dozen or more times, and since I never went with him I have no idea how many Spokers actually did it with him. The route is simple: from downtown Mill Valley just follow the Old Railroad Grade, which is probably the least gnarly dirt trail up Mt. Tam, up to East Peak and come back. Being the former right-of-way of the long-gone Muir Woods Railway, which used to go to the top of Mt. Tam, the grade is very consistent and low, making it a pleasant ascent.

July: Russian River Weekend. With a hiatus every now and then the Russian River Weekend still continues to be a well-attended club event. Besides being able to party at San Francisco’s nearest gay resort (we were deluded back then to call it “San Francisco’s Provincetown”—uh no, it’s not), this ride was another excuse to escape summer fog and to relieve SF Seasonal Affective Disorder. Camping at Fife’s (long gone) or later at the Willows (also gone) with a group dinner on Saturday night was the order of the day. The stalwarts rode up Highway 1 on a Friday, partied, then on Saturday rode to Jenner via River Road or Fort Ross Road or instead did the Healdsburg Winery loop, or just hung around and partied all day! If that were not enough, on Sunday some would ride to the Larkspur Ferry to catch a ride back to SF while those of a more sagacious character caught car rides back in order to nurse their hangovers. (Who else remembers former Bike-A-Thon Coordinator Matt O’Grady barfing his breakfast on the road back?)

August: Lake Tahoe Spectacular. This was the other annual weekend event from the early days. It’s lost its luster over the years and hasn’t been offered recently. It originally started as a two-day road ride around Lake Tahoe. On Saturday people would carpool with their bikes from Carnelian Bay over to South Lake Tahoe, leave the cars, and bike by Emerald Bay to the labyrinth-like hexagonal rental house. Then, on Sunday folks would ride along the Nevada shore to the cars and drive back. As the club attracted more animal riders, doing the entire lake in one day became de rigueur followed on Sunday by a fast ride over Brockway Summit to Truckee and back by Squaw Valley. In the meantime mountain biking grew and infected the club, and the Flume Trail became the must-do weekend ride.

September: Angel Island. This ride was one of the very first rides the club had and it was led by Frank Sclafani on February 13, 1983. (Gay sports clubs in San Francisco started having an annual picnic on Angel Island every August and Different Spokes members occasionally attended to, uh, “network”.) Usually the ride was extremely short: ride to Pier 43½ and take the ferry over, have a picnic, ride a bit on the island, and then go back. Infrequently the longer ride was to cycle to Tiburon and then take the ferry over, and this is the ride we will do. On Angel Island there is a fire road that circumnavigates the entire island and it’s easily doable on a road bike.

October: Pigeon Point Overnighter. This was an annual overnight trip, one of the most popular, and was first offered October 23-24, 1982. The first trip was a self-supported tour. In following years some riders lugged their sleeping bag and clothes, and others had stuff schlepped down by car. Although Pigeon Point is a youth hostel, it also has private group cabins. Now it has satellite Internet, free WiFi, and a hot tub! In the evening the group would prepare dinner together.

November: Petaluma to Dillon Beach. This one seems to have been completely forgotten, perhaps because nowadays members just prefer to cycle to Marin and do the county’s southern roads. This ride was the brainchild of former Presidents Karry Kelley and Mike Reedy. It started at Walnut Park in Petaluma and took beautiful back roads of northern Marin to Dillon Beach and back.

December: Port Costa Loop. This was an infrequently offered ride but it was special because it went on Carquinez Strait Scenic Drive, an abandoned road that hugs the cliff between Crockett and Martinez. At the time the road had just recently been closed and it made for a peaceful, car-free experience. Well, it’s been almost 30 years of continued entropy and the abandoned road is still there but it’s now a bit wilder. From the Drive the views of Benicia and the Carquinez Strait are unrivalled. The original route started in Richmond, went out to Port Costa, and returned. This route will start in Orinda and hook up with old route in Pinole before continuing through Hercules—“Dynamite City”—and Crockett and Port Costa. And what’s in Port Costa? Not much except the railroad tracks and…the Warehouse Café, which is attractive in a Hunter Thompson sort of way. The return route is through Martinez and Alhambra Valley Road and the infamous Pig Farm hill.

Why ride a bicycle to the top of Mt. Diablo on New Years Day? It’s certainly not a unique idea: all the local clubs—Valley Spokesmen, Grizzly Peak Cyclists, and Diablo Cyclists—all had rides up Diablo on January 1 as did we, Different Spokes. It is perhaps the purest expression of hope, a cyclist’s New Years resolution: to a better year of cycling however one conceives it. For me it was the hope of finally putting to end a chronic knee injury that has at times literally had me hobbling over the past three years. I know there are others of you who are similarly dealing with long-term injuries. For others it is the hope of achieving more goals on the bike, perhaps riding more miles, going faster, doing your first century, or just losing weight and becoming fitter.

David Sexton, Doug Dexter, and Gordon Dinsdale joined me on January 1 to ride to the top. Apparently the four of us (unlike some of you!) had not spent New Year’s Eve carousing and getting inebriated. If I had been as wise as David Gaus, I would have posted the ride as a New Year’s Eve ride, as he did last year, and perhaps others with party plans might have braved the mountain without a hangover. But the symbolic value of rising early on the first day of the year to climb almost 4,000 feet would have been muted.

Posting a ride in early January is always a crapshoot because of the unpredictability of rain and icy conditions. But this Saharan winter has meant we can ride with little fear of getting wet and frozen. Even so, all of us came out with a little bit more clothing than the forecast would recommend simply because it seemed unbelievably warm. Last year there was ice on our back deck on the morning we climbed; this year it was 59 degrees at the Junction and at the summit! This morning it was sunny and almost cloud-free with only the pallor of smog dimming the horizon due to the wind-free dry weather and an inversion that spurred a Spare The Air alert.

Just as last year we started out at Walnut Creek BART and took the North Gate Road up and South Gate down. People debate which is more difficult, ascending by North Gate or South Gate, and I’ve always thought that the latter was harder. But this morning going up North Gate that seemed steeper. It was the first time I had noticed that North Gate actually had some short, steep ramps that went into double-digits and had me reaching for the granny. I think each of us was just content to get up the hill at whatever pace we were comfortable holding. Somehow I ended up ahead of the others, so perhaps the others engaged in pleasant bantering while climbing. But I was panting!

Although not as numerous as on a century, there were plenty of cyclists heading up the hill, more than I’ve ever seen before. At the junction there were easily fifty or so cyclists catching their breath. Roger was there with the coffee and maple scones, which he had just baked, same as last year. Last year it was so cold that we all forewent going to the top, but not this year. The junction is not just a convenient place to catch one’s breath but also a logical turning point: the road steepens above. But the party atmosphere and the great weather had us all eager to do the whole enchilada and not turn back.

While North Gate may be one of the most ‘European’ descents with its back-to-back hairpins, the road above the junction may be one of the most ‘European’ ascents. It traverses the side of Diablo in sweeping turns and most of the time you can see the summit, seemingly just a hop up the hill (but not really). It reminded me of a miniature version of Mt. Ventoux. And it’s hard too! The last section, just a couple hundred yards long, is a brutal 19%. This year a car got stuck on the road, blocking it almost completely. Cyclists had to stop, and once that happened they couldn’t get going again with such a steep gradient. I was one of the lucky ones who managed to scoot by, just barely, and arrive at the top on two wheels and not have to walk.

The view was of course scenic but it was the crowd that made the scene. There must have been 30 or 40 cyclists alone in Grizzly Peak Cyclists kit milling about and maybe a total of a hundred there. The Grizzlies eventually coalesced and posed for a group shot and made quite a sight with a wall of bright yellow jersies.. There we finally ran into Stephanie Clarke, who was there in full Grizzly kit. She had come up via South Gate with half of the Grizzlies (the other half went up North Gate with us).

With so many cyclists the descent was going to be interesting. The road is narrow and steep making passing a mindful effort. Add in cars coming up and down and you have a potent mix for a faux pas. The rangers were out in force making sure no one was speeding, or rather, speeding too much as clearly cyclists were coming down faster than the posted 25 MPH speed limit. I managed to eke past a timid automobile and I am by no means a heroic descender. It was like pinball out there!

We went down South Gate without any drama and David showed us a ‘secret’ cut-off through the Diablo Country Club grounds. From there we went to Danville in search of lunch. I was hoping to nosh at La Boulange but they were closed for the holiday, as was Domenico’s. We ended up at Chow—not a bad choice—where we dined al fresco enjoying the sunshine and warm weather. Did you know that the French fries at Chow are fried twice? David shared that tidbit of culinary news and it did seem to make them taste better! For some reason all of us ended up with fish sandwiches. David and I had the Mexican-style petrale sole, Doug the albacore tuna melt, and Gordon the daily fish special. This was a perfect cycling day: good company, good ride, and then a really good meal. After lunch it was a short, flat run along Danville Boulevard all the way back to Walnut Creek BART.

I had made it the entire way without a single complaint from my knee. Everyone was in good spirits. The year was off to a good start. What else will this year bring? A special thanks to Roger for the scrumptious homemade maple scones and the fresh coffee!

It wasn’t of Shackletonian dimensions but it was still pretty damn cold. This year’s annual fall Mt. Hamilton ascent on November 5 was a narrow escape from a snowstorm.

Last year the long run of good luck with the weather ended when it got rained out. This year we were hoping for a better shot and we were granted our wish but just barely. The forecast had a storm front hitting the Bay Area around two p.m. If it were slow moving, then we’d probably make it without getting drenched, as the storm wouldn’t arrive in the South Bay until later. But if the forecast was off just a little, then we were in for a ride of epic proportions, as in slip-sliding through the snow off the top of the hill. Just to add to the fret-fest, the morning weather report showed that there had already been snow on top of Mt. Hamilton, and the UC Lick Observatory weather station had the temperature pegged around 33º F. But the day would warm up and it would all be gone when (or if) we reached the summit.

The turnout was pretty big, over a dozen, for a climb in excess of 5,000 feet, and it wasn’t just the usual suspects. David Gaus and Karin Atkins were co-leading the ride; Sharon Lum, who originated this ride for the club oh so many years ago, was again AWOL, which was truly unfortunate as she had the nasty habit of bringing delicious muffins to the start of this ride, and they were sorely missed. (Please come back, Sharon!) The day’s greyhounds turned out to be Tim, Peter, and that erstwhile tortoise Chris Thomas, who now conquers climbs like Casanova conquered women. Somewhere in the middle were Roger and I (on the tandem), Frank, Bob, and Judy. Taking it easy that day were the two Davids, Nancy, Gordon, and Karin.

Unfortunately the Fates conspired to make things difficult even before the start. David Gaus was unable to retrieve his bike from his storage due to a maintenance toad who had rekeyed his locker and didn’t bother to get him a replacement. David eventually caught up with us after a frantic morning chasing down a key. I guess our delayed start (but does a Different Spokes ride ever start on time?) and our patient starting pace were just enough for him to catch on. Fortunately, despite David’s absence Roger, Chris, and I had been up Mt. Hamilton before and we were able to provide a rough description of what the ascent would be like and what the group would confront. There was much moaning and kvetching about the anticipated altitude gain.

Then the group, already chomping at the bit, took off at a frenzied pace. Peter and Tim, who have a penchant for getting lost at the drop of a cycling cap, bolted out of the parking lot and promptly missed the first turn but sheepishly managed eventually got back on course. Although Roger and I ostensibly were trying to provide guidance, half the group was already out of sight. Tim and Peter pulled into the portapotties in Alum Rock Park which, lucky for them allowed us to catch up. They promptly passed us just as they were about to miss yet another critical turn if we hadn’t shouted out to them. Who was ahead and who was behind was all rather murky to us. Those that were ahead we just had to presume could follow the map and cue sheet. We waited at the turn for the others and led them up the short climb the presages the Big One.

As expected, as soon as we started up Mt. Hamilton Road, we started to spread out on the road, each of us taking a pace that would allow arrival at the summit without imploding. Roger and I, being on the tandem, had figured we would be pulling up the rear. We are not especially ferocious on the climbs due to the extra mass of the tandem. But we have lots of character! I had been looking forward to chatting during the climb with Karin, who admits to being a *slow* rider. But she and a bunch of the others just disappeared behind us due to what we learned later was a minor ‘mechanical’. So again we were on our own. Suddenly Chris appeared and roared past us, a man on a mission. I thought he was way ahead of us. “Extra miles!” he said. “Intentional?” I asked. “Nope!” he responded and off he went.

Despite the chilly start we were now thoroughly warmed up, sweating even. Off came the jackets. A high overcast concealed the sun, any warming from it muted, although it wasn’t yet needed. Mt. Hamilton Road is a long slog, about 18 miles covering 4,000 feet of net vertical to the observatory. The climb is not monotonic—there are actually two short descents of two or three hundred vertical feet, which give brief respites. But on a day like today even those short descents meant a chilly blast against sweat-soaked jerseys. On the positive side, the recommencement of the uphill segments, usually a point of bemoaning, was greeted with joy by our now benumbed and shivering limbs.

Halfway up, at Grant County Park we ran into Bob. From him we learned we were, surprisingly, in the middle of the group. Gordon, Nancy, Karin, and the two Davids were still somewhere below. As we waited, we saw a family of wild pigs silently walking through the meadow hunting for food. We waited, thinking the rest of the group surely must be just behind us and would soon catch on. But we were rapidly getting chilled and uncomfortable, so off we went despite the discourtesy. As we ascended the temperature continued to drop and the chill became more pronounced. Any stop at all, to drink or pee, and the warmth of climbing vanished in an instant and gave way to shivering. Despite being a Saturday the road traffic was minimal—the occasional automobile and just a few motorcyclists go racing by. The quiet, the solitude, the dreary weather along with the gelid temperature made it all very atmospherically wintry.

The grade of the climb above Grant County Park averages about six percent versus five percent for the lower climb. At this point you can make out the Observatory in the distance. The road winds around dozens of curves, allowing the Observatory to peek in and out of view, seeming close yet still miles away and literally thousands of vertical feet to go. It’s tantalizing and agonizing at the same time. Time seems to stand still, and if not for the odometer you imagine the effort is completely futile. Then suddenly you’re on a set of switchbacks just below the Observatory and the road then levels out. By this point we have caught and passed Frank who has clearly felt the effort of the day. Chris passed us heading down; apparently he’d been to the top and did not want to linger and get frozen. As we made the final turn up to the Observatory we passed Bob and then we were there. When we got to the top, did we take in the view or high-five each other for our accomplishment? Nah, we headed to the vending machines in the back hallway where we could inhale some Cokes and paste our bodies against the wall heater!

To our relief, there had not been any snow and the road had been dry. It felt arctic, and according to Tim the temperature is in the low 30s. One certainly doesn’t want to prance around outside, especially in sweaty clothes.

Other cyclists trickled in and everybody was relieved to get out of the cold and warm up at the heater. Both Bob and Frank crawled in. Poor Bob was in just shorts and a long-sleeved jersey—no windbreaker, tights, or shoe covers.

Where was the rest of our group? Tim and Peter had arrived long ago and were hovering in the main alcove of the observatory. But Judy, who had passed us at the very beginning, was not to be found. About 20 minutes later she showed up, apparently also having done some extra miles! The weather appeared to be stable, but it was now two p.m. Where was the storm? Waiting for the others meant risking getting caught in either rain or snow. With no cell service at the top (note: we have AT&T) no one could get an update on the storm. Nearly 45 minutes after we had arrived the rest of the group minus Karin showed up. Everyone was happy to have the climb out of the way and survived the frigid conditions. The wall heater suddenly got crowded!

The problem with going inside and warming up was that going out to the cold seemed bitterly painful. As a long time bike commuter I’m used to riding in all weather conditions. But the wintry weather has come on so quickly after a welcome Indian summer that I’m simply just not yet used to the cold. I had on an undershirt, long-sleeved jersey, windbreaker, and then a fully waterproof jacket, a wool cap with a cycling cap over it, and toe covers, and I was still shivering! For insurance I had brought along some chemical handwarmers. I broke those out and gave some to Roger to shove into his gloves so that he could steer us safely down the mountain.
When it comes to weather I’ve found that prayer is rarely effective. So, even though Karin still was nowhere to be found, we decided to head out in order to try to beat the storm. David Goldsmith headed out with us and soon zoomed ahead. One would think a tandem would blast down any descent ahead of any single. But Mt. Hamilton road is very curvy, narrow, and has marginal sight lines, all of which make a single bike a much better descent vehicle. David was soon completely out of sight. The tandem felt sketchy and unsteady; Roger was shivering so hard that I could feel it in how the bike was handling! I was silently praying that we make it down in one piece unhurt. I offered Roger the rest of the heater packs to pack under his jersey so he could warm up some more, but he declined.

The descent was a whirlwind of curves, tight turns and chicanes. Whether it was the cold or just being tired, the whole experience felt vertiginous, banking through turns one after the other. We quite literally did not have to pedal at all until we got to the first short uphill. But both of us were shivering and so tight from the cold and lack of effort that this teensy climb felt like we were going up Alpe D’Huez (and that ain’t no exaggeration because in 2006 we had crawled up the Alpe on the tandem!) The climb was so short that we weren’t warmed up by the time we had to descend again. This had to be one of the least enjoyable descents I had ever been on. (Well, except for the ones where I crashed. And the one where I got hypothermia because it was snowing and all I had was a tee shirt and Bermuda shorts. Oh yeah, and the one where the fog was so thick that I couldn’t see.)

By Grant County Park the temperature was noticeably warmer (but not warm), and the second short ascent brought a welcome glow to our frozen legs. We were starting to feel human again. There was still no storm in sight even though the sky was ominously darker. In a trice we were down the final descent and back to the edge of San Jose. That’s when it started to rain. At first it was just a few random drops, then it became a regular pitter-patter. Being just two miles from the car we knew we were in pretty good shape, and our legs were pretty cooked from about 5,500 feet of climbing. So we just rolled on at our weakened pace even though we knew the storm was hitting.

David was already back in the lot putting his bike on the rack when we arrived. Just as we got off the bike the rain’s pace picked up and we rather hurriedly got the tandem and ourselves into the van. Then the sky opened up. But where were the others? We thought they were just minutes behind us. Surely they were getting drenched! Soon it was a raining, not hard, but enough for everything to get a good soaking, perhaps also including our fellow Spokers. It was about a half-hour before the others finally showed up, and in a turn of good luck they were so far back that the front wasn’t as ferocious up on the mountain. They got wet but not overly, so all was good. Everybody was grateful for the good luck in getting down without having to deal with a blizzard.

What better way to close out such a frigid day than some hot Indian food. So off Roger, David Gaus, and I went to Naan ‘N Masala in nearby Milpitas for some flame-throwing curry!
See more pics over at the Different Spokes Photo Gallery.
—Tony Moy

This Sunday November 6 if you are not planning on attending the club’s Morgan Territory/Mt. Diablo ride in the East Bay and instead plan on staying closer to home for your riding, be warned that the west sidewalk of the Golden Gate Bridge, the side we usually cycle on, will be CLOSED from 7 to 9:30 a.m. for the 5,000 expected runners in the US Half Marathon. Cyclists may instead contend with the pedestrians on the east sidewalk or use the FREE shuttle which runs from the parking lots at either end of the bridge.

And don’t forget that daylight savings time ends at 2 a.m. this Sunday also. So, that 7-9:30 a.m. closure period is an hour later than you think!