We had a very nice time on Stephen’s second climbing series ride in Marin and had driven back to the East Bay across the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. We usually head home via the Richmond Parkway instead of taking I-580 to I-80 south. That may seem counterintuitive: going north is way out of the way plus it’s on a surface arterial rather than an expressway. But the Eastshore Freeway becomes impossibly jammed during the day and consequently taking the less direct way to Orinda is actually faster and less stressful.
After you exit I-580 in Point Richmond, you go underneath the expressway and start heading north through Richmond towards Pinole. If you’re familiar with this road, you know that much of the western side the Richmond Parkway is mostly Chevron property and there are only a few gates to exit the facility onto the Richmond Parkway. So several of the lights are really T-intersections.
We stopped for a red light at Barrett, which comes in from the right; there is no street from the left, just a gate into Chevron. The Parkway is two-lane each direction and we were in the right (#2) lane northbound. Another car was to our left in the #1 lane. As we sat there waiting at the light, two cars came speeding up behind us and swerved into the bike lane and went straight through the red light without even slowing down. I estimate they were going about 40 MPH.
People gonna do what people gonna do.
You may recall that club member David Sexton was killed by a hit-and-run driver while cycling in Richmond on his way to Napa in last summer. This was probably how he was killed as David was a careful cyclist. He probably had a green light and saw no traffic (or saw traffic and assumed it would stop) and went into the intersection only to be smashed by a car running the light.
Is this the first time we’ve seen a car run a red light? Unfortunately not. We’ve seen it several times in recent years. Sometimes it looks like the driver just didn’t see the light as was the case for a light that was mid-block for a trail crossing. A few other times drivers have looked directly at me and then sped up to go through the light. Another time a pickup truck ran a red light, which all the other cars had stopped for. The driver would have hit another car turning left across his path of travel except for that driver’s slamming on the brakes.
In this case it was clear the two cars deliberately sped through the red light. All the other cars had stopped and the miscreants had to swerve into and use the bike lane. They never slowed down.
The result of seeing so many cases of vehicular negligence, distraction, and sheer sociopathy is that I no longer assume that drivers will respect the law or rights-of-way. I generally don’t start to go through a light controlled intersection or a stop sign without a clear sense that the other users are going to stop or yield. That may slow everyone down but perhaps it’s also reducing risk to me. While we’re cycling on streets, we can’t function as if there are no understood rules otherwise we’d flinch at every intersection and everytime another vehicle came near. It’s also not conducive to a relaxing ride. So such behavior is destructive to the social fabric of our roads. Yet there is an increasingly overt savagery at work on our roads whether it’s freeway shootings, hit-and-run collisions, wrong way driving, or driving on the sidewalk. Well, we’re the mice and the cars are the elephants on the roads, and dancing with elephants is what we do every time we go out for a road ride. That might makes right on the roads, nay in general, punctures the illusion that laws mean something when in fact they are only tinsel to distract the sheep, ie. you and me, while the wolves go about their merry way devouring at will.
The police have abandoned us on the road. Enforcement is nearly impossible as the police can’t watch everyone. We don’t have the Panopticon yet (although Larry Ellison certainly wants us get there). Great, just what I want: Big Brother is watching us.
Those of you who’ve been under a rock recently may not be aware that longtime club member Will Bir passed away on Saturday August 3 while riding his bike. According to his longtime boyfriend Orlando he was found unconscious on the ground in the Presidio. Someone called 911 and the EMTs were not able to revive him. Apparently he died of a heart attack. He was only 59 years old.
Will’s sudden and unexpected passing shocked us all and has left a deep emotional hole in the club. Will has a long history with the club starting sometime in the early to mid-90s. Perhaps others have had more in depth conversations with Will and know more about his history. But from comments he’s made in passing over the years I’ve had the impression that he may have had two stints with us. He moved to the Bay Area to earn an MBA from UC Berkeley in the early 1990s and may well have joined the club at that time. I am under the impression that he moved away—or perhaps was just busy with work—and then returned later on.
Although I too have had a long history with the club, I had a hiatus from mid-1992 to about 1998 and probably only met Will when I started to cycle again; I have no recollection of him before 1992.
It’s funny what you recall about those who’ve passed away. I’ve known Will for maybe 25 years and in looking back he always appeared the same. I think he even rode the same bike, a titanium Serotta with a triple crank all this time. But the bike changed slowly and so did Will. He used to ride all the time with a Camelbak but in more recent years he ditched that for a more traditional setup. Maybe it was the mountain bike influence because I have a (faulty?) recollection that he did a stint (or maybe grew up) in Colorado. He certainly knew about Rocky Mountain Bicycle Boys. He had a preference for wearing jerseys from rides or events he had done and never succumbed to the hipster Rapha/Maap/Pas Normal plague that has afflicted so many cyclists. Unlike so many of us who go through bikes, bike fads, and equipment like junkies looking for a fix, Will was not at all about the bike and entirely about the riding.
I’ve ridden with Will too many times to remember them all. That he was a longtime regular on so many club rides is evident from the extraordinary number of photographs of him on club rides; you can see for yourself in the club’s Photo Albums area. Will liked to ride long, hard, and fast. Which was pretty amazing for someone with his build—more linebacker than gaunt, skinny cyclist. One time we were riding up Morgan Territory on a club ride. It’s a tough ride with a dauntingly steep climb. As the climb worsened below the summit, Will and I were still riding together. Usually guys as heavy as Will would not be able to climb very well. But Will was almost as fast as I and yet he outweighed me by 60 or 70 pounds! That isn’t to say he wasn’t suffering but he seemed to know his limits very well, hence the triple crank with low gears. Will was quite capable of suffering on the bike. He never seemed to go slow and never seemed to need a warm-up period. On that same ride we got down to Tassajara where it’s flat and he zoomed by me like a motorcycle. I barely was able to grab his wheel and it was all I could do not to get dropped; he had a BIG motor! It was rare that Will was behind. Always at the front. He certainly made me suffer more than once!
At some time in the early Aughts Will got the century bug, nay the double century bug, and he and Jerome ended up doing some pretty long rides. He’s got a Triple Crown jersey to prove he’d done three double centuries in one year; he also has a Triple Bypass jersey and I believe he’d done all the passes on the Death Ride. Truly a beast on the bike. He’s one of the few Spokers I know that has done the Canyon Classic up Del Puerto Canyon, a relatively obscure climb. He’s also one of the few Spokers to have gone to Mammoth for their Epic ride. The list of centuries he’s done is very long.
A couple of years ago I led a ride up Patterson Pass. Will joined and at the start we found out he was just getting over Covid and was coughing his brains out. Yet we could still ride strongly. This ride goes over Patterson Pass to Tracy and takes a little known trail along the California Aqueduct before heading back over Altamont Pass. Will knew about the aqueduct trail because he had ridden it years ago while training for a double century! He was always surprising me by his willingness to take on a challenging ride as if it were a walk in the park.
Will was impressive in other ways. I never saw Will get upset or angry. He was preternaturally calm; in fact he was almost always matter of fact. Nothing seemed to perturb him or make him histrionic. And I don’t ever recall him swearing or bemoaning his fate. There was never any drama around him. But he could get quite animated when talking about something he really enjoyed…like traveling with Orlando to Europe for metal concerts!
Will was also a regular to the Orinda Pool Party. He always brought a six-pack because he loved to drink beer as much as he liked to cycle. He knew we were a dry household; whatever remaining beers would still be there for next year’s party! But of course he would bring more. For a while there he was showing up at the OPP with a different boyfriend almost every year!
He was also a very loyal Golden Bears fan and was a regular at Cal football games.
In the Aughts Will took on being the events coordinator for the club. More than once he hosted the Holiday Party as his place in San Francisco. He also came up, planned, and led the Amador County Weekend, a three-day getaway to Plymouth CA to ride the Gold Country roads.
In recent years Will cut back on cycling and instead was spending time hiking with Orlando. A few years ago Will was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor, which he had surgically removed. I like to think that that scary event got him thinking about what was important in his life and that spending time with Orlando was more rewarding than an entire day on a long ride.
A couple of years ago I wrote about my initial experience with Tubolito tubes, very light TPU (thermoplastic polyurethane) inner tubes. You can read it here. Overall I was a bit disappointed because although being extremely light they didn’t feel supple. Consequently their ride quality was only so-so. I also didn’t appreciate the added difficulty in repairing a puncture as you cannot use regular inner tube repair patches and glue.
However I have continued to pound this wheelset and have to say that their lightness–due in part to the Tubolito tubes–is endearing. The wheels accelerate noticeably faster than my other wheels even if they are slightly more abusive on choppy pavement. On smooth pavement they are the cat’s meow. I still haven’t tried them with my preferred tires, Michelin Pro4’s, which as I mentioned seem to have the best ride quality. But that day is coming in the not too distant future as the Rene Herse Cayuse Pass tires wear out.
I have a few more comments to add about the Tubolitos. First, Tubolito has changed the puncture repair process since two years. Previously their repair kits consisted of alcohol wipes and special adhesive patches; you wiped down the puncture site with alcohol, let it dry, and then pressed the patch on and held it for 30 minutes. Yes, that’s not a typo: three-zero, 30 minutes. Clearly this is not something you do in the immediate aftermath of a puncture on the road. And after having patched Tubolito tubes several times I can say unequivocably that you’re much better off doing this at home because any pressure you apply with your fingers is just not going to cut it; you need to use a C-clamp or gerryrig something else that applies constant, consistent pressure to the patch. (I use a C-clamp.) Simply applying finger pressure will result in the patch not adhering adequately even if you’re patient and do it for the full 30 minutes.
Tubolito repair kits now include reworked patches and a small tube of Camplast glue. From what I can tell the patches now seem to be just cut out pieces of the same TPU they use to make their inner tubes. The glue is made by Rema Tiptop, the same company that makes excellent patches and glue for regular butyl and latex inner tubes. This is a special glue that works on thermoplastic urethane, ie. TPU. Now the procedure is shorter: wipe with alcohol, let dry, apply glue, wait one minute and then slap on the patch, and press for one minute. That’s much better.
And as fate would have it I got a puncture and could test this all out. Actually, I got the puncture months ago but didn’t realize it until today. Huh?
That brings me to my second point. A frustrating experience with the Tubolitos is that the tube I patched two years ago eventually developed a phantom leak. It would hold pressure perfectly—TPU tubes lose almost no air at all, even less than thick butyl tubes—and then suddenly one day the tire would be completely flat. It clearly wasn’t behaving like a slow leak. And when it would flat was unpredictable; I could go two weeks when everything was fine and the next day it was flat. Or in three days it would be flat. Of course I pulled the tube out (more than once) and searched for a leak by the usual methods and I never found one. Mystery. Also unsettling. Eventually I replaced that tube with another Tubolito tube I had.
Then I read that Rene Herse was coming out with its own line of TPU tubes and patches. Jan Heine, the head of Rene Herse, has until recently preferred light butyl tubes. He prefers them over latex tubes despite the latter’s performance benefits because he’s a randonneur and butyl tubes just hold air better over very long rides. Okay, fair enough. But why TPU now? He wanted to improve what he saw on the market; he noticed that some unexplicable failures were due to leakage at the valve. The presta valve is metal but its extension tube is TPU. A regular presta valve and extension tube are both metal. That difference in material might eventually result in a leak. So Rene Herse TPU tubes have metal extensions and valves just like on a regular inner tube. Aha. Maybe this was the source of my mystery leak! So if you’re experiencing mystery flats with Tubolito (and all the other TPU brands as well) tubes, it may be due to a simple design error. So of course I immediately ordered a set.
The tube in my rear wheel developed a slow leak a couple of months ago. I now suspected it was due to the valve/extension mismatch per Rene Herse. But the leak was pretty slow—it was faster than a latex tube would deflate naturally but slower than the slowest slow leak I’ve ever had before. I just lived with it since inflating the tire before a ride is something I’ve done for decades.
Today I decided finally to swap the tube to a new Rene Herse TPU tube. I removed the leaky tube suspecting I would find no leak. I was wrong: it had a pinhole, a real puncture, and it wasn’t the valve at all. I used the new Tubolito patch kit and it didn’t go smoothly. I followed the directions meticulously and left it alone to cure. I came back to the shop about a half-hour later to find the patch not even sticking to the tube! I thought I was in for another Tubolito “adventure”. However I repeated the process and this time it seemed to work: the patch actually stuck. So the Tubolito is back in the tire and I’m holding off on installing the Rene Herse tubes.
I’m not entirely sure why the first patch job didn’t work. But I have a suspicion. With regular patches the first step is to roughen the tube surface with sand paper before you apply the glue. The presumption is that this aids in vulcanization by having “fresh” butyl or latex rubber exposed to the glue. TPU tubes have an analogous step: wipe with an isopropyl alcohol. I presume this is to clean the TPU surface of any dirt or oily substance what would impede the action of the Camplast glue, which has to work differently than regular patch glue because this is not vulcanization at all. But that alcohol wipe is 70% alcohol and 30% water. The alcohol evaporates faster than the water, and if there is any moisture on the TPU surface the glue might fail. This is speculation. But I did do one thing differently the second time that leads me to believe moisture was the culprit. The second time I wiped the puncture site dry after using the alcohol wipe instead of waiting for it to dry. the instructions say to wait a short time—I wiped it with a clean towel to make sure it was dry before applying the glue. The other possible explanation is that the first layer of glue dried and acted as a better base for the second layer of glue. I actually don’t know which one is the real explanation.
In any case the tube seemed to be patched—we’ll see if it deflates overnight!—even if it was frustrating. After about six hours it’s still holding air fine. UPDATE: Yep, after several days I can say that it’s still leaking but even more slowly, more the way a latex tube leaks slowly.
This brings me to the final point: is this worth the hassle? Well, there’s no one answer to that question. If you’re a weight weenie absolutist, then of course the answer is yes (assuming you can’t stand tubular tires). TPU tubes are the lightest option out there except for tubbies. And like with tubular tires you’re willing to live with the inconveniences imposed by this technology. If you’re a regular cyclist, the answer is clearly ‘no way!’ The seductive allure of a whippet-like wheelset is dulled by the time suck and complicated maintenance routine. In fact it’s hard to argue against regular butyl tubes and Jan Heine may be right. Even light butyl tubes are inexpensive compared to TPU tubes and latex tubes and the repair process is simpler and no special glue or patches are required. It seems like a win-win. If you’re a princess-and-the-pea type, then TPU tubes are going to be a second choice because the hands-down winner is a latex tube with its velvet ride quality and relatively lighter weight compared to butyl. To be honest the wheelset with latex tubes and Michelin tires is slightly heavier. But god, the ride quality is the closest I’ve experienced to a high quality sewup wheelset. I can ride all day on those wheels even if they don’t zing quite as loudly. Finally, what about tubeless? As I’ve concluded before, road tubeless is a world unto its own. It has its own complicated care procedures and maintenance. If you detest dealing with flats, then this is your only choice at least in the short run. You do get fewer flats. But when you do get one it may be such a hassle to deal with that you’ll be revisiting this question and perhaps end up with a different answer. But aren’t tubeless tires lighter? That’s an open question. The tubeless ready tires are heavier because most of them have an added butyl rubber layer lining the inside plus you have to add at least an ounce (= 28 grams) of sealant, usually more.
But what about me: what do I prefer, you ask? I’m old school and I’m also old, which means I’ve patched so many inner tubes that in general dealing with flats is a minor inconvenience despite my propensity to flat often. I have my routine down for dealing with flats: practice makes perfect. Still I don’t like dealing with a flat tire when it’s raining or it’s very muddy. I like the temporary convenience of tubeless road tires. But it’s not a game changer for me. I don’t find tubeless road tires confer any advantage in ride quality compared to a light, supple tire with a latex inner tube. But I’m also a cheapskate so frittering money on $32 TPU tubes or even $18 latex tubes seems foolish. It’s not that I can’t afford them; it’s that they seem…unnecessary. I guess I’m just plebeian by disposition. You could take me to the French Laundry for an exceptional dinner and I’d appreciate it. But I am quite happy to eat at Panera too. So there you go.
Note: To my surprise the patch kits for Rene Herse TPU tubes include just alcohol wipes and the patches. No Camplast glue. Their instructions say to wipe with the alcohol wipe, let dry, then stick on the patch and press hard. That’s all. I’ll eventually end up using it and we’ll see if it works. Perhaps the adhesive they use on their patches is a better formulation than Tubolito’s.
How soon we forget. I certainly forgot about it when the anniversary arrived. But I attended a barbecue today that included many Spokers and David’s name came up. Then I remembered: A year ago on July 1 David Sexton was hit and killed by a car driver while cycling in Richmond across the Bay. No one has been apprehended and the police have been completely quiet. It’s as if his murder didn’t happen. Yet it did.
The world rolls on even if you don’t. His name is another one added to another long list. It doesn’t matter what list it is. Maybe it’s those who’ve died of HIV/AIDS, those killed in Vietnam, those who died from Covid, those killed by car drivers. Does it really matter? There is rarely a chance to grieve collectively and now a year has passed and he’s become just another ex-member. And we’ve moved on.
A loss it has been for his friends and family over the past year. It was also a big loss to his coworkers at Kaiser and his patients. We wish them all as good of a healing as is possible for such a traumatic event.
On Fathers Day, Roger and I rode on Point San Pedro Road through China Camp State Park. We were scouting a route and dining possibilities as a prelude to leading a club ride. The result unfortunately is that I was not impressed by the route; in fact it was like the scales fell off my eyes and I saw these roads for what they are and not what I had remembered or imagined.
Since most Spokers live in the City, getting to China Camp involves trekking across the Golden Gate Bridge and making one’s way north through San Rafael to the State Park. But we were planning to start in the East Bay in Point Richmond and traversing the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge in order to avoid the mishegoss on the GGB on weekend afternoons. The general route was to take the RSR, get through San Rafael somehow, go around China Camp, and then get to downtown San Rafael for midday refreshment. There were several possibilities for a return depending on the length.
The Richmond-San Rafael Bridge (RSR) It’s been an unexpected gift to be able to cycle across the RSR to Marin. The novelty of it hadn’t worn off. Until now. The RSR path opened on November 16, 2019—just four and a half years ago. In that time we’ve probably used it about a dozen times and always on weekends. It’s marvelous to be able to get to Marin just by bike and I was tickled pink at the prospect of being able to cycle over and catch the SMART train to get to Santa Rosa to do some of the roads on the Wine Country Century and then return without using a car.
As you know there is controversy about the bridge with car drivers and their lobbying groups wanting to eliminate the multi-use path and have it revert to (just another) car lane. I won’t bore you with the arguments pro and con. (As if you cared anyway.) But I will say this: the experience of crossing the RSR is generally an experiential bummer. The MUP is a converted car lane and if you use it when there is substantial traffic, ie. daytime, you are exposed to a deafening amount of car noise. It’s louder because vehicles are passing at freeway speeds, 60-80 MPH, rather than normal street speed. Yes, it’s no different in kind from any of the other bridges. But the proximity and being on road level seems to make the noise even louder. The only thing that would help—besides less traffic—would be a delightful traffic jam that forced everyone to slow down. Of course then you’d get to relish the extra vehicle emissions. Sunday the traffic was forceful and unremitting when we started at 9:30 AM. Our return in the afternoon was only slightly less wearing simply because by then the toll plaza on the eastern side was jammed and backed up, which seemed to reduce the traffic somewhat. Whatever past bliss I experienced by skimming along the surface of Richardson Bay in the early morning was completely obliterated by wrenching car noise.
I can’t think of a single time that our return eastward on the RSR has not had a grinding headwind and today was no different. How can that be? Well, on a typical day the prevailing wind is westerly and comes through the Golden Gate and turns north to go up the Delta into the Valley. So on the RSR the wind is primarily a crosswind, which as you know feels like a headwind when you’re cycling. On top of that, the grade on the bridge is a grind. Oh, and the bridge is hella long. So, headwind plus uphill grade plus mega length—you do the math. By the time we were heading home I was already a bit tired and having to slog uphill into that wind had me reaching for a lower gear, hunkering down, and gritting my teeth. Like a castaway sailor I was ever so glad to reach solid land!
All of this had me thinking—heresy!—that if the Bay Conservation and Development Commission eventually decides to end the MUP experiment on the RSR, I’m going to be disappointed but I won’t be shedding copious tears. In other words I like the idea a whole lot but the reality is not so great. Still if you haven’t ridden across the RSR I strongly recommend that you do it if only to have the experience once before it is taken away from you.
One more thing: on Fathers Day the toll plaza was absolutely jammed to the gills in the afternoon. I don’t know how long the backup was but it was not a short one. If you think for a moment that a possible RSR multi-use path compromise might involve removing it only during the work week, you have your head in the sand. The jams are there on weekends too and car drivers are going to lobby for the MUP to be removed completely regardless of whether the MUP is actually the cause of the jams or not.
Getting Through San Rafael Highway 101 transects San Rafael and whether that was the case before 101 was expanded or not, de facto the eastern side of 101 has a lot of light industry and low income development while the western side is the “suburban” side. Heavy truck traffic and speeding rule the roadway on the eastern side. And that’s the side you have to get through to get to China Camp. The fact that the area is littered with ejecta from trucks and cars as well as general neglect makes this section of the route feel you’re going to the dump to get rid of your garbage.
The problem is that there’s no short way to get across San Rafael Creek to get to China Camp except by going all the way west to 101. But your Calvary isn’t over yet. After you cross Point San Pedro Road, which follows the north shore of San Rafael Creek, is a four-lane boulevard with cars zooming by at 40+ MPH. Literally the saving grace is a bike lane, which is where several drivers delightfully parked their cars in order to go about their Sunday business forcing us to repeatedly hop into the vehicle lane and pray we weren’t smashed.
Back in the day I rode to China Camp, or at least I think I did. I have two recollections. In preparation for an AIDS Bike-A-Thon I did a club ride from SF to go around China Camp; this was probably 1990. I’m pretty sure this is a memory of a real event–I’m not always sure these days!–because I have the recollection of riding with Jamie Henderson, an old club member, and probably his now-husband Ray O’Loughlin and my partner at the time, Tom Walther. I recall us getting lost in San Rafael trying to figure out how to get to China Camp. But as we rode on San Pedro Point Road, which is the only way to get to China Camp, I had absolutely no recollection of any of the scenery. Was it possible that 30+ years had erased everything recognizable? What I do recall is that the road was semi-industrial (which it is at the beginning) and had car traffic (which it still does). But it seemed all different now.
China Camp State Park My memory continued to be faulty as we rode towards China Camp. None of it was recognizable, which is probably a combination of change over 30 years plus my increasingly creaky memory. Until we hit the first real hill with ugly bumps on the downhill side. Then it came back to me: I was here before. That was immediately eclipsed at seeing picturesque Bayside Park, which is a long, narrow esplanade by the shore. Something so captivating and it was like I had never seen it before. (Maybe I hadn’t!) This continued all the way around the Park. I was drawing a complete blank. Nothing looked familar.
My second recollection is that I rode on the dirt trails in China Camp with someone in the club many years ago. Most likely we had driven up to China Camp rather than riding on our mountain bikes. Yet seeing China Camp did not provoke a memory even when we went by the Visitors Center. Where exactly did we ride our dirt bikes, I wondered. At some point in the 1990s the club decided to move the annual picnic to China Camp State Park probably because everyone was tired of the fog and chill in Golden Gate Park. It was there for quite a few years yet I never attended one of them. Consequently I never rode or drove up at any other time and thus have no other recollections.
Sunday the traffic was very light through the park. Point San Pedro Road is in pretty good condition. But what struck me was the multitude of mountain bikers at China Camp. The trails are easy to get to and considered good for beginners who are trying their hand at singletrack riding. The one time I rode there I had a blast. Of course it’s all different now: there were no full suspension bikes back then and today that was practically all we saw being unloaded from cars. And there were lots of them!
Eventually we made your way out of China Camp to the Marin Civic Center and then somehow we had to get over the hill to San Rafael. Back in the day the main way was an odd path that was immediately next to 101. If you’ve ever wanted to avoid taking Camino Alto over to Corte Madera there is a similar bike path next to 101 that dumps you on Meadowsweet Drive. This one was like that. But now it had changed apparently due to the construction of the SMART train whose right-of-way sits adjacent to the path. It certainly is much more developed because of it and is in great condition. This trail takes you right into downtown San Rafael where we were going to get lunch.
San Rafael I’ve never, ever spent appreciable time in downtown San Rafael. It’s always been a dot I’ve gone through trying to get out of or back to the City. But today we were looking for a lunch stop for a club ride and it had to have an outdoor patio. Fourth Street seems to be the main drag and has a lot of places to eat. There’s a Crepevine on 4th with a small patio in front. Even though we were arriving well before lunch time, the warm, sunny weather and Fathers Day meant it was full. Just around the corner was a Mexican joint, Taqueria Bahia. It had an outdoor dining area and it was completely empty. So we ended up stopping there and despite my trepidation at its run-of-the-mill demeanor the food turned out to be quite good. The plus was the portions were large; the minus was the portions were large.
This part of San Rafael had a little bit of everything. By that I mean a crazy dude screaming profanities, cool millenials looking for a bite, some tie-dye (hey, it’s Marin!), Central Americans hanging out everywhere, and plenty of Marinites doing what they do best, ie. shopping or dining while trying to ignore the crazy dude screaming profanities. At least the area is fairly well-kept and didn’t reek of urine. Or feces. And I didn’t see any tents on the sidewalks. Like some other city we know.
Lovely Wolfe Grade By now it was getting hot—not atypical for San Rafael at this time of the year—so we skedaddled. I had in mind three different possible returns. The shortest was just to head east and make our way under 101 until we got to Francisco Street, which is the frontage road to 580, and take it to the bridge. But coming over in the morning we saw that a big portion of it was currently under reconstruction, all for the better since there seems to be an extra-wide sidewalk/MUP being put in. Francisco gets a lot of truck traffic, so having a MUP really makes sense. We decided to skip it and take a longer route going over Wolfe Grade, avoiding Francisco entirely. I hadn’t been over Wolfe since the early 1990s. This is a straight up and down road to get over a hill; it’s ridiculously steep but short. It’s not particularly pleasant and has no redeeming feature other than being direct. The shoulder varies between tolerable to nonexistent and it is moderately trafficked. (Which is why I’ve ridden it maybe less than two or three times altogether!) Coming after a big lunch Wolfe was a regrettable decision. It is short but if you’re lacking the horsepower it’s just a grueling ordeal. I wasn’t so quick anymore with a burrito bomb in my stomach. But we got over it and then it was simply making our way back to the RSR by the pleasant Corte Madera Creek MUP and then go past San Quentin. This section we’ve done many times and it’s pleasant and strangely bucolic for something in the middle of the suburbs.
Who’s Zoomin’ Who? Once past San Quentin you climb a small hill and take the entrance ramp to I-580. A lot of cyclists ignore the signage and don’t realize that the entrance ramp is the bike path and instead they attempt to cross over SIr Francis Drake at Andersen Drive to catch the separated bikeway coming from the bridge. Besides being unnecessary it’s a dangerous maneuver because there is no stop sign for oncoming traffic just exiting the freeway at high speed. Some cyclist is going to get killed there one day if not already. In any case we merged onto the freeway and it’s a hoot. It’s one of the few places in California that legally allow cyclists to ride on the freeway. The bike lane is marked and part of it has plastic bollards. But there is no physical separation between cyclists and car traffic. So maybe one day some cyclist is going to get killed on the freeway.
The RSR, Part 2 By now I’m tired and it’s headwind city. It’s a steady climb for about two miles with no relief until you get to the top of the span. There is no protection from the wind. The only thing worse would be if the winds were unpredictably gusty. (That happens too!) The RSR MUP is a bidirectional path with just a painted dashed line separating eastbound and westbound cyclists. It’s not very wide. Westbound cyclists get a crazy fast descent, almost like a bobsled chute. Which means eastbound cyclists get to contemplate a moment of doubt each time they espy a downhill cyclist: is that cyclist really in control, are they going to bean me, and how fast are they going anyway?? The positive is that unlike the Golden Gate Bridge, which is a heady stew of hordes of cyclists blasting past each other in tight quarters with nary a care for safety, the RSR has so little bike traffic even on a weekend that the risk pales. I sure hope there isn’t a Strava segment on the RSR! There are occasional walkers; the other obstacle is people fishing off the bridge (!). Some people think the RSR MUP is a pier and they might as well go out on a sunny Sunday, park their butts on some crates along with their coolers and gear, and spend a nice morning trying to hook some mercury-laden bay fish for dinner whilst humming along to the freeway music in the background. I suppose they’re no worse to crash into than the copious furniture on the GG bridge and certainly a bit softer. Today there was just one group of people fishing on the bridge and the total number of cyclists coming at us could have been counted on one hand.
They weren’t there today but at other times we have also seen the Couple Taking Photos As If No One Else Was Around Them. You know them, right? They’re the ones abruptly stepping backwards into the middle of the narrow MUP too preoccupied with their phone to realize that they are about to be beaned by a cyclist. Fortunately the walk across the RSR is very long so pedestrians are a rarity. However we did encounter the Cyclists Taking A Selfie…and they were doing it on the south side of the bridge! Think about that: the south side has the scenic view of SF, the GG Bridge, Alcatraz, etc. And it also has no sidewalk. To get there they had to run across all the lanes of cars travelling at freeway speed to stand on a narrow ledge to take their selfie. And then somehow get back to the MUP. We saw them sprint across the lanes and leap over the barrier just in time not to get killed and high-fiving themselves smugly. I bet the drivers’ adrenaline also went up.
Grumpy As with any ordeal it’s merely a matter of time before it eventually ends. We were back in Point Richmond and at the car. Why was I so disappointed with the planned route? I think part of it is a change that’s been happening slowly to what I expect out of a ride. These days I’m more interested in riding rural (or “semi-rural”) environments and away from cars. Much of this ride is quite urban—the RSR and the east side of San Rafael. I also realized that the reason why I’ve hardly ever ridden to China Camp State Park is because getting there isn’t as pleasant as going to other parts of Marin, even other suburban parts. Will I go back to China Camp by bike? I’ll have to let time kill more memory cells…
If you live in the South Bay, you probably already know about the dirt and gravel paths that encompass the southern end of San Francisco Bay. Starting with Palo Alto there is the Palo Alto Baylands; Mountain View has the Moffett Field levee, Sunnyvale has its Baylands Trail, and Alviso has a loop around the Slough. It’s possible to put together a nice, flat loop that takes in all of these since they’re near each other and connected by paved sections of the Bay Trail.
Yet there is another unpaved trail that completely escaped my attention: the Shoreline Trail. I stumbled across this trail by accident while looking at Google Maps of the Dumbarton Bridge. Although I’ve ridden across the Dumbarton by bike many times there is no obvious signage that this trail exists when you’re cycling along Marshlands Road, the frontage road that you must take to get onto the Dumbarton from the eastern side. In order to find it you have to know about it because it’s tucked away underneath the bridge after the turn onto the Dumbarton. (Crossing from the western side you never even see that Marshlands Road continues behind you to a trail.) Continuing a short distance beyond the turn you reach a small parking lot, which is especially convenient for walkers, and after turning under the bridge onto the dirt there is a storm fence with a gate that is open during visiting hours (7 AM to 9 PM). From there you can take the trail four miles along the former levee to the mouth of Alameda Creek.
The views along the trail are entrancing. Once you leave the roar of the Dumbarton Bridge behind you, you find yourself on a peaceful, placid dirt trail surrounded by water with only the wind and the calls of sea birds. If the weather is clear, you will see the San Mateo Bridge in the distance and across the Bay on both sides. Of course the eastern shore is closer and those brown (or green during the wet season) hills belong to Coyote Hills Regional Park. It’s possible to start the trail at the northern end by taking the Alameda Creek Trail, a very well-maintained and wide multi-use path along the entire creek from anywhere as far east as Niles all the way to the Bay. If you’re planning to ride the trail as a loop and not as an out-and-back, I recommend you ride it north (clockwise) because the sun won’t be in your eyes and you’ll have the Bay in front of you rather than staring at the Dumbarton. There is one disadvantage to heading north: the prevailing wind. Usually it’s from the north or northwest and depending on its severity you could be fighting it all the way. You’re exposed and there’s nothing to provide any protection. On the day we rode it we had a wind but it was “normal” it didn’t faze us; if anything it was invigorating.
The beginning of the trail is a doubletrack that eventuallly turns into a slightly uneven, narrow dirt road. The surface is mostly packed dirt but there are a few sandier sections that aren’t troublesome. We did it on our “gravel” bikes and it was fine. We saw mountain bikes as well as road bikes with bigger tires and they seemed to be handling the trail fine. I think even a road bike with narrow tires would be able to do this trail by going slightly more slowly. Overall there were just a handful of cyclists on the trail the day we rode it; there were about the same number of walkers but they clustered where the Alameda Creek Trail ends at the northern end of the Shoreline Trail. Perhaps due to its remoteness and having to compete with sexier places like Mt. Diablo or even the Coyote Hills Regional Park nearby, it seems to be very lightly used. And that’s a good thing because it is a great place to stop and take in the wonderful views from the levee amidst the peace and quiet.
What do you see out there? Well, there are a zillion sea birds along the other abandoned salt pond levees. With only one exception all the other levees have all been breached so you can’t ride on them. I presume this was done to help them revert to a more natural state as well as improve the movement of Bay water. The trail is part of the Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Birds are nesting on the old levees probably because predators have a difficult time getting to them. There is also narrow marshland along the west side of the trail. By the way there was no garbage or litter on the trail. Is that due to lack of use or that it all gets blown or washed away? About midway the one other intact levee connects and you can take it east to Coyote Hills Regional Park if you wish. Otherwise turn left and head north again to get to the end and the Alameda Creek Trail.
Breached levee: a sea bird sanctuary
The Alameda Creek Trail is by comparison urban and civilized: it’s fully paved, wide, and a dream. As I mentioned already it continues all the way to the entrance of Niles Canyon in Fremont, a distance of about 12 miles. We didn’t take it all the way but we saw enough to guess that like other MUPs in the East Bay Regional Park System it’s very well maintained. If you’re interested in getting to the trails by BART, Alameda Creek runs not too far from the Union City BART station.
After getting a good glimpse of the Alameda Creek Trail, we turned around and headed back in order to explore the views from the Coyote Hills Regional Park. Although the park has about a dozen trails, the two with views of the Bay are the Bayview Trail and the Red Hill Trail. The former is paved until you turn onto the Apay Way Trail; the latter is dirt and instead of being closer to Bay level follows the ridge of the hills. We took the Bayview. After a short incline you reach a more-or-less level section that parallels the Bay. The views are scenic; there were a few walkers on the Saturday we were there and the trail was not crowded at all. Midway, where the other remaining levee trail actually intersects the Bayview, we turned onto the Apay Way Trail, which rolls and eventually brings you to Highway 84. An overpass for pedestrians and bicycles was constructed over the busy highway and we took it back to the National Wildlife Refuge parking lot where we started our ride.
All told our ride was about 18 miles and we could easily have extended it by exploring the park or by continuing further up the Alameda Creek Trail. This is an easy dirt ride with great views. Highly recommended!
Bob used to live in San Francisco and rode with the club in the early days until he relocated to LA about 30 years ago. He’s an old fart like me and has been riding bikes since forever. His latest N+1 is a Pinarello gravel e-bike that he purchased this past winter. He’s one of the few club members who’s regularly riding a gravel bike. Here are his comments on “gravel”.
“Hi Tony, I’ve been having a great time with my new bike and now that summer is here, the longer days are giving me more time to ride. After the first several weeks of exclusively riding the Pinarello I started mixing in rides on my road bike and was happy to find that I had gotten stronger and found the routes that had become challenging now a bit less so. My search for suitable off road gravel trails has not been very successful, however. There just aren’t good ones close by (i.e. within riding distance from home) and removing the battery so I can hoist it (still heavy) into the back of my car is not something I’m often motivated to do. But it’s OK. There are a couple of tame rides in the arroyo by the Jet Propulsion Lab in Pasadena that keep me entertained for now.
When I saw the email about a DSSF Dirt Curious ride and your footnote about it perhaps being a good excuse to get a gravel bike, I thought I would offer a few observations that, if you think the club members might find useful, you could add to one of the club emails.
Before I settled on the Pinarello gravel bike I bought this past January, I rode an assortment of gravel and mountain bikes. Mainly I wanted two things: a more upright position on the bike (to give my neck and shoulders an easier time of it), and my first e-bike. I’ve been really happy with the Pinarello even though I have not found many suitable trails for it. The first thing to know about a gravel bike (e- or otherwise) is that it is decidedly not a mountain bike. The narrower tires, even when deflated to about 25-30 psi, simply do not have the same mountain bike tire contact surface with the ground to give you a sense of confident control. Another thing is that unless the gravel trail you find has a fairly high ratio of hard surface to gravel (or sloppy sand), you need to be very careful with sudden, sharp course corrections—much more so than with fatter mountain bike tires. That being said, however, if you are so inclined and are fortunate to have more money than you know what do do with, you can buy another set of wheels to broaden your choice of trails. Most good gravel bikes can accommodate wider tires.
But here’s the second kinda big thing: gravel bikes don’t have suspension. That also makes control on an uneven surface a bit of a teeth-chattering added challenge. I may get a shock-absorbing handlebar stem—I have one on my old hardtail mountain bike and always found it quite sufficient, even on the gnarliest Marin trails.
Oh, and regarding the e-bike part—you only have an easier time (i.e., cheat) if you so choose. Otherwise, if you ride as hard as you did before, you just go faster. Plus, you get the added feeling that you just turned back the clock a few decades. Pretty sweet.”
Bob is right: today’s “gravel” bikes are not mountain bikes. At least they’re not like mountain bikes as we know them today. Bob hits the two things that make “gravel” bikes different: tire size/type and lack of suspension. Note that both of these are blurring these days with experiments in adding suspension to gravel bikes and making gravel bikes that accept mountain bike sized tires. I wholeheartedly agree with Bob about riding on dirt: mountain bikes generally feel a lot more planted on dirt than does a typical gravel bike. Those fatter tires usually with more aggressive tread and lower pressure just provide more traction and cornering confidence. However unlike riding on asphalt where tires going sideways is a rare—and usually dangerous—occurrence, riding on dirt involves getting used to the tires moving laterally under you. Yes, drifting is for real. Since I don’t ride a mountain bike with suspension I don’t have anything to add to what Bob has said about that topic. But I do ride a road bike—okay, it’s an “all road” bike—with front suspension and it definitely makes life a dream when I roll over pavement incongruities with nary a worry.
So if you’re looking into a “gravel” bike as your N+1, keep that in mind: it’s not a mountain bike even if it gets you about part way there. For many of us that’s all we need. You’ll find riding a “gravel” bike on pavement familiar to riding your road bike and then you’ll be able to ride some dirt with more confidence and comfort. Maybe it’s more appropriate to think of a gravel bike as a N-1 since you can live pretty well without a typical road bike. But a gravel bike is not going to be much fun on gnarly trails and going through rock gardens. It’ll be fine on most fire roads and unpaved roads around here and you can ride to the dirt instead of having to drive.
Did you know that there is a Caltrans proposal to install bike lanes on El Camino Real? This would be only between Menlo Park and Mountain View. That is still a significantly long section of El Camino with very dense traffic. I was stunned to read about it here. The proposal is actually quite tame in one respect: these are not protected bike lanes, only your typical painted green lanes. In another respect it’s quite radical: the parking on El Camino will all be removed to accommodate the new bike lanes. The article in the Palo Alto Online mentioned that there was some skepticism of the proposal. But surprisingly it was from the bicyclists, mainly that if bike lanes are going in then they should be protected since the speeds on El Camino are usually well above the posted 35-mile speed limit. The business owners usually bemoan the loss of parking spaces caused by a bike lane but in this case owners along El Camino seem to be in favor of bike lanes because they anticipate that foot traffic will actually be better for them.
Cycling in the suburbs is a mixed bag. Side streets can be quieter but arterials can be scary for cyclists especially if they don’t have bike lanes or decent shoulders, and El Camino is most definitely an arterial. Also since suburbs are designed for cars you have a lot of car traffic whereas in SF one would walk or take Muni. El Camino is a big thoroughfare spanning from Colma all the way down to Santa Clara. To my recollection there has never been a club ride that did more than cross El Camino because cycling on it is unpleasant, busy, and requires full attention to the traffic. Recreational cyclists on the Peninsula don’t use El Camino unless they have to and in many places there are much quieter and less dangerous side streets.
Has there ever been a club ride that used El Camino? Not to my knowledge. Why would you want to ride there? If we head down from San Francisco to points south we’re better off taking Highway 35, which also has fast traffic, the Bay Trail, or Alameda de las Pulgas.
Even with bike lanes it is difficult to imagine what cycling on El Camino would be like other than unpleasant. It will still be full of traffic, lots of stop lights, and the concommitant automobile exhaust, noise, and distracted drivers. When I lived on the Midpeninsula there were plenty of times I rode on El Camino simply because it was the fastest and most direct route. What may be unpleasant for recreational cycling often fades into the background and becomes less significant when you’re running errands.
I recall two memorable experiences cycling on El Camino when I lived in Palo Alto in the 1970s. In those days I didn’t own a car and did all my errands by bike including taking my recycling to the collection site in a Cannondale Bugger—yes, that was its real name—trailer. One time I was running an errand by riding on El Camino when I was stopped by Palo Alto cops in a squad car for riding in the vehicle lane instead of the parking lane, which only intermittently had an empty set of spots. I told the cops it didn’t make sense to ride in the parking lane when there wasn’t a parked car and then pull out into the moving vehicle lane when there was since that was dangerous. Cars wouldn’t see me and wouldn’t be expecting me to enter. Plus, I’d be weaving in and out a lot. The cops wouldn’t have anything of it: “You have to ride next to the curb. You either do it or you get a ticket.” What a stupid, uninformed response. But what do you expect from cops? The last thing they know is the law especially as it pertains to cycling. So I meekly said I would and as soon as they moved on I went back to taking the lane as was my right. By the way this occurred in the days when Ellen Fletcher, who was a fierce cycling advocate in Palo Alto was just beginning her long battle to improve cycling in Palo Alto. Perhaps today I wouldn’t have had to deal with such ignorant cops because of her.
My second memorable experience was much more pleasant. Two friends and I decided to ride up Mt. Hamilton from Stanford. We left very early on a Sunday morning and took Foothill Expressway south and eventually to El Camino Real. It was early enough that El Camino was almost devoid of cars. It was great! I had never seen El Camino so empty. It gave me a glimpse of what it might have been like to cycle on the Midpeninsula before cars became de rigueur.
Once considered a rite of passage for recreational cyclists—riding one hundred miles in a single shot—the century ride is gradually becoming a relic of another era. Century rides no longer seem to captivate cyclists’ imagination the way they did during their heyday in the 1980s and ‘90s. General interest has been trickling down in the Bay Area and probably elsewhere in the US as well. That is reflected in Different Spokes too. Greg Lemond’s wins in the Tour de France in the 1980s and then Lance Armstrong in the late 1990s and 2000s really propelled interest in road cycling. Next thing you know cycling is “the new golf”. It seemed there was a century ride almost every week in or near the Bay Area from April through early September. Although many have survived, there is a trail of defunct rides such as the Hekaton, the Banana, the Holstein, and Mt. Hamilton, which are fondly remembered. Centuries were regularly selling out and each year clubs were striving to increase the number of riders they could accommodate. A ride with 2,000 cyclists wasn’t unusual. Although some centuries still seem to have good numbers; for example, the Wine Country Century regularly sells out its 2,500 spots but instead of selling out in a matter of days as it used to it’s now taking months.
At the finish ceremonies in Guerneville for the first AIDS Bike-A-Thon 1985.
Century rides are/were usually put on by local cycling clubs. But we know from the experience of putting on the AIDS Bike-A-Thon for ten years in the 1980s and ‘90s that running a big event like a century ride is a substantial amount of work even when you have it down to a formula. A lot of volunteers is absolutely essential not only for planning but for pre-event logistics and day-of-event work. If your club doesn’t get burned out from doing all that, you at least need a year to recover! Keep in mind that the bigger the event, the greater the number of volunteers you need. If you’re a small club, this is a real stressor. When we were putting on the AIDS Bike-A-Thon the club was somewhere just under 300 members at its height. But many of those members were passive, ie. donating a paid membership but not doing much else to support the club. The clubs nearby that continue to put on century rides all have memberships that are much greater than ours, which currently hovers near a hundred. Although they manage to pull it off, even large clubs like Valley Spokesmen and Grizzly Peak Cyclists have to beg their members pitiably for volunteers.
On top of that onus—declining interest in volunteering—is the increased cost and effort of putting on an event on public roads. Permitting, police time, venue reservations, and portable toilets all have increased in cost and difficulty in getting arranged. Food isn’t cheap anymore too. Insurance costs for events have also gone through the roof. That the registration fee for a century can be $100 shouldn’t be a surprise anymore; that’s a long cry from the $25 back in the day!
Amateur racing clubs have it a little easier. Licensed clubs are supposed to put on a race annually. Where do they get their volunteers? From their members who, if they want to race for that team, have to put in drudge hours to support the club. Since they want to race (or at least hang out with the cool kids in cool kit), they have to volunteer. No such luck with recreational cycling clubs. Requiring volunteering as a condition of membership is a fast way to zero out your membership. I don’t blame you all. Let’s face it: life is stressful in the Bay Area no matter how well paid you are. Traffic sucks, work hours are often ridiculous, and affording a place to sleep practically involves submitting to indentured servitude. The last thing you want to do is fritter your precious me-time on helping a broke-ass cycling club put on a century even if it’s just one or two days of unpaid work in a year.
And on top of all that, road cycling has other kinds of cycling competing for your interest. Bike touring is still lurking in the background (no one in the club does self-supported bike tours anymore except Phil and David). But the trends du jour are bikepacking, gravel riding, and even mountain biking, which is getting long in the tooth. And don’t forget “gran fondos”, which are just competitive centuries in that you get a timing chip so you know exactly how slow you are. By the way did you know that Levi’s Gran Fondo in Sonoma asks $295 for the pleasure of riding in its event?
While recreational cycling clubs may be backing away from putting on century rides, other entities with more enthusiastic members may be taking up some of the slack. First you have professional businesses who look at big riding events as potential cash cows. Event promotion is a way to earn a nice living as Dan Pallota can tell you. Apparently Levi Leipheimer, Jens Voight, and George Hincapie would agree as well since after their pro racing careers they’ve gone on to put on gran fondos. But other charitable organizations have noticed the turnout and our willingness to fork over dollars to ride a road bike for a day. Best Buddies, the Multiple Sclerosis Society, American Lung Society, the Alzheimers Association, and many others put on day rides for road cycists and you can either pay the money upfront or promise to raise a minimum amount of money to participate. Another organization that has tossed its hat into the ring is Rotary International. This service organization with local branches all over the world has a number of small fundraising centuries around northern California. What’s nice about them is that they are on the small side—a turnout of 500 is considered big–and locally sponsored. Rotary in Santa Rosa sponsors the Giro Bello—that’s pretty close to the Bay Area—but Rotary in Yreka sponsors the Siskyou Scenic Tour, a much smaller community and quite far away. The Almaden Lions Club has been putting on the I Care Classic for many years. What I like about the newer and smaller rides is their homey and community feel as well as a chance to throw a little bit of money their way. Of course these organizations exist in order to serve, so finding volunteers to run their events is less chancy than pleading to your cycling membership.
You may not realize it but regardless of whether a century is put on by a local club or by an organization like Rotary or the Friends of Feeney Park, it’s really a fundraising event. Clubs like Valley Spokesmen and Grizzly Peak Cyclists plow the money they pull in into donations to local charities after they’ve paid their not insubstantial bills. But keeping your volunteers jazzed and willing to come back year after year takes some secret sauce. And when you’re a club that’s basically devoted to me-time and having fun and when helping other people involves more effort than submitting your credit card number, that is a hard sell! Some of the fee money that other clubs collect is plowed into the general fund to pay for their club events like picnics, club meetings, and travel that benefit everyone in the club even if just a small percentage volunteered. I think one of the reasons that the AIDS Bike-A-Thon practically killed the club was that we took NONE of the money that was collected—all the millions of dollars went to beneficiaries. What we were left with was the momentary high of pulling off a massive charitable event and the awesome burnout afterwards that slowly drove the volunteer base down and the club was still broke with never more than about $1,000 in our treasury (if that). Dedication and commitment can get you only so far. And then you need me-time. We’ve always been a broke-ass club and we continue to be to this day, depending on the kindness of its members to dig a little deeper into their pockets to keep the bills paid. Part of what sustained our motivation was that this was all before protease inhibitors came on the scene. Prior to Crixivan in 1996 HIV medications were of limited effectiveness. Raising money for palliative care, treatment, and research was literally a way to stay alive and to keep hope alive. That was a powerful motivation to keep putting on the Bike-A-Thon!
The history of Different Spokes and centuries is mixed: although the club was founded primarily by bike tourists, as the club was forming in 1982 the club leaders ended up doing the Sequoia Century and according to Bob Krumm had a bonding experience as well as enjoying it. As the club grew a new cohort of “avid recreational cyclists” came on board and they routinely did centuries around the Bay Area. Of course back then there were quite a few to choose from. That generation of Spokers were the ones who entertained Walter Mitty fantasies about riding with Greg Lemond and Andy Hampsten (and perhaps doing more than riding with them!) This was always a small group within Different Spokes but it happened to contain many of the club leadership through the years. That shouldn’t be a surprise because we had the AIDS Bike-A-Thon, a club event, and this regularly became the goal for the year. Even members who weren’t preternaturally interested in riding a hundred miles would gird their loins and participate in the Bike-A-Thon.
Today the Spokers who show up at the local centuries are the same faces I’ve seen for years minus those who’ve aged out or who realize that paying $100 to ride roads you ride anyway is kind of stupid. I’d rather think of it as a contribution to another local cycling club or a charitable donation to a non-profit so that they can fund their programs. I just hope their volunteers stay happy and jazzed to put on a whole-day event year after year.
I’ll still keep showing up at the start even if I’m down these days to riding metrics. At least until I age out as well. Riding centuries has long been akin to a religious ritual for me. And going to church is what some of us still do.
The start of “church services” at the 2010 Monticello Century
It was a long year waiting for Stage Road to reopen. Although it did not fall victim to the New Year’s Eve Massacre, which closed Mines, Patterson, Redwood, Veeder, Calaveras, and scads of roads in the Santa Cruz Mountains, it succumbed a couple of months later and was closed for repair until late November. With so many roads closed throughout the Bay Area, San Mateo County had to work to line up a contractor who could fit it into its schedule. I’m sure it wasn’t cheap too. In the meantime club trips to coastside were severely constrained because Stage Road features in several of our favored routes. The fact that Old La Honda and Highway 84 were also closed didn’t help at all. How many Gazos Creek loops and Kings Mtn. Road loops didn’t take place because of all the mishegos?
I didn’t want to delay any longer to see how the rebuilt section of Stage Road turned out as well as to revel in the greening splendor after the recent rains. The weather was iffy until the morning of the ride when the rains completely vanished and we had bright blue sky! Hemming and hawing now put to rest, there were six of us out for a welcome winter jaunt: Cathy, Jeff, Ginny, my husband Roger, Alden, and I.
Ever since David cut the Gordian knot and started leading Pescadero loop rides from Pescadero instead of Palo Alto or Half Moon Bay, the scales have fallen off my eyes and I wholeheartedly embrace this much shorter version. It is heretical for me to say but I really don’t like cycling on Highway One. So I don’t miss the long section north of Stage Road especially if I start the ride in SF. Yeah, it’s beautiful, the Pacific is awesome, etc. But it’s replete with dangerous drivers especially on a weekend afternoon when they’re beered up and heading down the highway at 70 mph, oh, and passing the drivers who are already speeding but not speeding enough for their taste into the oncoming lane directly at us. Add in the tourists in rental Mustangs gawking and the at times nonexistent shoulder and it’s nerve wracking enough to ruin a nice day’s ride.
We started at the now closed Pescadero High School just at the edge of town and immediately went through the tiny town on Stage Road. The road was just slightly damp and the sun was ashining. The group took off as Cathy and I caught up on news; Roger did a one-eighty and headed back to the car because we had forgotten to lock it. (Not that Pescadero is like San Francisco, mind you, but old habits die hard.) Stage Road has three short climbs and just past the first one we encountered a short repaved section of road with a new guardrail. Could this be it? It seemed too early. Because I didn’t think it was the repaired section I didn’t stop to take a photo. But we didn’t spot any other obvious new pavement continuing on, so that must have been it. We caught up with the group at the San Gregorio Store and stopped to chat and reflect on how fortunate we were to be riding in dry, sunny weather.
After the last climb up to Highway One we bombed down the coast southward. Unlike the drive down, traffic on One was now brisk. It was a smooth, breezy ride with just a couple of sections of shoulder fully encroached by the ever-moving sand dunes. Eventually we arrived at the Pigeon Point Lighthouse, which was doing brisk business. The lighthouse itself has been closed for ages—I thought it would never reopen. But I’m wrong: a restoration is starting this spring and is expected to last two years at which point we will have a beautifully restored and open lighthouse that we can actually go up to take a gander at the Pacific from the height. Bathroom stop and selfies done, we paraded a couple miles further south to Gazos Creek Road.
Riding on Gazos is always welcome. You’re finally away from cars, the road is in great shape, and Gazos Creek is always a gurgling treat. Only us oldtimers remember when Gazos was a dirt road. It was still pretty good to ride on back then but I like the asphalt better! Here the best of coastside is on display: Gazos Creek was roaring from the previous night’s rain and quite a turbid brown. But it was swaddled in green vegetation making it a pastoral delight. Gazos continues into Big Basin State Park where it’s dirt and goes all the way to the park center, which is now completely burned down. We turned off Gazos onto Cloverdale and were greeted by the soothing, greening hills completely devoid of urbanization. Did we even pass anyone? I think we encountered exactly one car the entire way.
Back at the high school Jeff, Alden, and Cathy decided to ride to the Loma Mar Store while Ginny, Roger, and I took the easy way and got into our cars. We all arrived at Loma Mar at the same time!
Loma Mar is also a survivor of another age. Back in the day Loma Mar was a PO and just a store. So I used to ride to Pescadero to get grub at Arcangeli Market or Duarte’s. But after a long closure for a complete rebuild, Loma Mar finally reopened and with addition of a restaurant. And it’s a good one too. So it’s now my fave for lunch (unless I absolutely have to have the artichoke bread at Arcangeli or the artichoke soup at Duarte’s). Like restaurants elsewhere dishes at Loma Mar aren’t ‘cheap’ anymore. A very good sandwich and a coffee is going to add up to more than $20 after tax and tip. We all sat there gabbing for an age about wildfires, the difficulty getting house insurance, and cycling coastside.
Finally we moved our butts and headed home. What a great ride with great company and scenery!
The Chain Letter 