Black Road

Yesterday, casting about for an unfamiliar road to ride, I fell upon Black Road. Actually I was looking for an unfamiliar and easy to ride road, but Black Road was only the former.

It's a little tricky to get to Black Road from my house in the Almaden area. First, I took the familiar route to downtown Los Gatos, over Blossom Hill road. Then I rode down the Los Gatos creek trail, which was uneventful except that, for the first time I can remember, my road bike's wheels spun out on the steep little ramp near the dam, and I had to walk the bike up. I guess the path is getting a little dusty this late in the dry season.

On the Leniham dam, looking north toward Los Gatos

The path to I-17

The tricky part comes after the climb up the dam to Alma Bridge Road, next to the Lexington Reservoir. Basically I want to get to the Bear Creek overpass over I-17, but Alma Bridge Road ends a few hundred yards north of the overpass. So I can either ride the wrong way on I-17 (doesn't seem wise), go the long way around the reservoir (too lazy for that), or (and here's the tricky part) ride up the dirt path between I-17 and the reservoir.

I've been on that path before, coming the other way, but at that point it was muddy and I was on my mountain bike. I knew that the path would be dry after months of no rain, but I was pleased to find that it was in fine shape, even for my road bike.

Trees still flooded in Lexington Reservoir

Once across I-17, you take a right and soon find yourself on Black Road. I had read that Black Road averaged about 6.3%, which sounded reasonable to me. I should have read more carefully: that average includes a substantial flat portion in the middle, and the beginning and end are much more steep.

Looking north from Black Road to many other climbs
around Los Gatos

Along the way you get several great views toward the north, including the view above. That view may not seem like much, but from this vantage point you can see lots of the other rides around the Lexington Reservoir area. On the far left you can see the top of Bohlman, which I have yet to climb. Toward the middle, on the same hill, is El Sereno. Further to the right is St. Joseph's Hill, with Mount Hamilton directly behind it. On the far right you can just make out the top of the Priest Rock Trail, where it meets up with the Kennedy Trail. Amazing view of an amazing area.

Affordable digs on Black Road

Black Road climbs up to about 1600 feet, then levels out for a mile or so. In this section there's a school where, rumor has it, you can refill your water bottles. After the road heads up again, it enters a lovely redwood forest and shrinks to a single-lane road.

In this section the road bends around quite a bit and, on this Sunday at least, it had much less traffic. The woods are dense and the road is largely shaded, making for a pleasantly cool ride on this nice warm day. This all made for glorious seclusion, the quiet spoiled only by the wheezing and panting of a lone cyclist (specifically: me).

At about 1900 feet is an entrance to Sanborn County Park. The trail here is labeled the John Nicholas Trail, but on maps it's called Sanborn Road, and apparently links up with Congress Springs, aka Route 9. Unfortunately bicycles aren't allowed.

Black Road climbing through the woods

At just over 2400 feet Black Road finally meets up with Skyline. I took a left, riding south toward Bear Creek Road. North of this point Skyline is a two-lane road, but here it too becomes a lonely single lane road as it winds, mostly level, among the trees.

Skyline, looking west

At Bear Creek Road I had to decide whether to ride down Bear Creek Road, or continue on the very charming Summit Road across I-17. I've never been on Bear Creek, and I decided to save that experience for later. I enjoyed Summit, including the little interstitial climbs, then dropped down Old Santa Cruz Highway and basically reversed my route.

The Garmin gave me 36 miles and 3270 feet of climbing, which I think should have been closer to 2600.

Canyon Trail

Practice makes perfect. Yesterday I had the ride I was aiming for two weeks ago, before taking a wrong turn.

Stevens Canyon Road

The plan was the same: ride up Stevens Canyon Road to the Canyon Trail, all the way through to Page Mill Road. Last time I took a wrong turn and ended up grinding up the Table Mountain and Charcoal Road trails. This time I'd be more observant.

The kids head back to school tomorrow and football is starting to show up on TV, so it must be the end of summer. Appropriately, yesterday was cool, and when I rolled off at about 8:30 the hills were still thick with fog.

Another difference from last time was that I started from home, rather than driving to Saratoga. That adds about 10 miles to both the start and end of the ride, but last time the mileage was minimal, and besides I was feeling good.

A weeping wall on Stevens Creek Road

I rode Blossom Hill to Los Gatos, then the Los Gatos/Saratoga road from... well, from Los Gatos to Saratoga. From there, Route 9 took me to Pierce, where once again I climbed the little hill that peaks at the entrance to the Mountain Winery. Pierce then descends to Mt. Eden Road, which climbs back up to about 800 feet as it crosses a saddle heading toward the Stevens Creek Reservoir. Mt. Eden winds its way down to about 550 feet by the time it meets up with Stevens Canyon Road.

Yesterday morning was perfect for a bike ride, and I wasn't the only person to notice it. All through this section I was seeing plenty of riders, including several large groups.

This part of Stevens Canyon Road climbs very gradually from about 550 feet at the intersection to about 1200 feet at the gate about 4 miles away. It runs along Stevens Creek, crosses many bridges, and shrinks to a one lane road as you approach the gate. The road is largely shaded with no shoulder, but very little traffic apart from bikes.

The path beyond the gate is really a continuation of the single-lane road until just before it enters the Monte Bello Open Space Preserve, when it runs across a comparatively rough section. One reads occasionally about a section of this trail re-routed around a landslide, and I suspect that must be what this is.


View Larger Map

In this section the trail becomes single track, and will remain mostly single track until you're pretty close to Page Mill Road. On the 15 miles leading up to this point, listening to my fat wheels waste energy against the pavement, I was reminded of a piece of advice I picked up on Usenet a while back. The idea is that, unless you're on a very technical trail, the vast majority of most rides will be better suited to a road bike than a mountain bike, and even on the dirt sections the road bike will mostly be equal. The mountain bike will have an advantage only on very short sections. With that thought in mind, I started at this point to try to judge whether I could have taken my road bike instead.

I couldn't be sure where I had taken the wrong turn two weeks ago, but I had a good idea. On this trail there are lots of little forks in the road that come together a few meters later, routing around difficult or damaged sections of trail. But one of them is a real fork, and once I again I saw no trail sign. Nonetheless, I managed to take the correct, right fork. A while later I saw the Palo Alto City Limits sign, and since I hadn't seen that last time I knew I was on the right track.

Somewhere along here the trail crosses the creek and then climbs up a very short but steep hump. I lost my traction and ended up having to walk my bike. And what did I find at the top of the climb (or maybe top of the "push")? A whole gang of riders re-grouping at the intersection with the Grizzly Flats trail. Sigh. Pride goeth before the climb.

All through this section the trail has continued its gradual rise, and by this point it's probably up to 1400 feet. But here the character of trail changes, and you start seeing steeper, longer, leg-burning ramps. In between two of these painful ramps I decided it was an appropriate time for lunch.

Canyon Trail

An emerald-green pond on the Canyon Trail

On the map, you can see that the section after the Table Mountain fork runs along a ridge. I was expecting to see a drop-off to the left and cliffs to the right, but it doesn't really give that impression. The trail runs through a thick wood, still damp this late in the season. Even when you can notice the ridge line, the trees still surround and enclose the trail, giving a sense of splendid isolation.

Black Mountain from the Canyon Trail

The Canyon Trail intersects with the Indian Creek Trail, which snakes up to Black Mountain. It's easy to take the wrong turn there, too, but at least there's a sign. After that there's just one more steep section until the trail levels out to meet Page Mill Road. Thus endeth the Canyon Trail.

Page Mill Road at the intersection
with the Canyon Trail

At one point I was toying with the idea of taking a right on Page Mill to where it meets the Montebello Trail, and reversing my ride from last month. But I stuck to the original plan, turning left toward Skyline, and then left again on Skyline toward Saratoga Gap.

Since I had ridden from home, I had lots of options at this point. I could head down Route 9 again, or continue on Skyline to Summit, then down through Los Gatos. I figured I would think about it at the Saratoga Gap parking lot while enjoying a soda or two.

Except that wasn't going to happen, because I didn't have my wallet, or any other money. I can't say I forgot it, because I deliberately decided not to bring it. That was a lousy decision on several grounds.

Part of the Skyline Ridge Preserve,
still topped by fog

In the end I retraced the steps of the ride two weeks ago, heading down Route 9 to Saratoga, and then home. The Garmin shows 49 miles, and I'd guess I did about 3000 feet of climbing (the device showed 4200).

So now, having ridden the whole ride, what bike should I have taken? For me, it's clearly the mountain bike. I was wishing for my road bike for 45 of the 49 miles, but those other four miles were quite loose and dusty. I probably would have made better total time on the road bike, but I wouldn't have enjoyed the Canyon Trail as much. And for me, the enjoyment is what it's all about.

Table Mountain

Yesterday I accidentally rode up Table Mountain. It was lovely, and awful.

The plan was to ride up Stevens Canyon Road, which turns into the Canyon Trail, right up to Page Mill Road. I started much as I had started the Montebello ride, by driving the bike to Saratoga. I was riding my mountain bike, and I thought that eliminating 20 miles of road riding would be helpful; as it turns out, that was probably unnecessary.

I took SR 9 into the mountains, and as in the Montebello ride I went up Pierce's short, steep hill, then climbed up Mt. Eden Road. Temperature makes such a huge difference for me. That previous ride was very hot, and I had to rest on Mt. Eden Road. Yesterday was pleasant, and the little ramps, steep as they might be, were no challenge.

Looking south from Mt Eden Road.

Stevens Canyon Road

Stevens Canyon Road runs along the Stevens Creek reservoir, carrying mining and recreational traffic (odd fact for the day: Stevens Creek was named after Elijah Stephens, not Stevens). By the time it meets up with Mt. Eden Road traffic is much lighter and it enters a thickly wooded area. The road is shady and quiet, apart from the water rushing in the creek. Lots of water for this late in the season, come to think of it.

The road climbs, but only very slightly -- less than a 3% grade. Along the way it transitions from two lanes to one and a half, and crosses lots of bridges. Toward the top of the road there are two construction areas with single-lane bridges.

Stevens Canyon Road,
with the creek just off to the right

The road finally meets a gate, but otherwise continues on as before. Gradually the pavement disappears, and later the fire road gives up and becomes a single track running along (and occasionally through) the creek.

Canyon Trail

Through this section the trail is still quite tame. It has its little hills, but its still only gradually gaining elevation, and apart from the crossings there were no parts that struck me as technically challenging.

Then, something went wrong. I took a wrong turn. Looking back, I think I remember where it must have been, but of course I can't be sure. There are lots of places where the trail briefly splits for various reasons, and I mistook the fork for one of those diversions. If there was a sign, I obviously didn't see it.

Although I didn't realize it yet, I found myself on the Table Mountain Trail, and the character of the trail changed almost immediately. First, one is obligated to cross the stream again, then climb the hill on the opposite side.

Crossing the creek near the bottom of the Table Mountain Trail

This was the first of a number of small hills that I had to walk the bike up. I watched a few fellow cyclists negotiate some of these little ramps with their ridges, loose rock and exposed roots, and while I tried a few of them, I walked up the majority with no injury to my ego.

Table Mountain Trail

The Table Mountain Trail climbs about 600 feet in a little over a mile. It runs through beautiful country, but it's a little too technical for me, so it's hard to enjoy as a ride. Near the top it finally dawned on me that the road was turning away toward the south, not maintaining the northwesterly path of the Canyon Trail. I consulted a GPS app on my phone and realized my mistake. At this point I was at about 1700 feet, so turning back to the intersection would mean giving up 500 feet, and on a fairly technical trail to boot. Looking at the park map, it turns out that riding downhill would have been against the rules, too, but I don't recall seeing any signs out there. In any case, I pressed on.

Charcoal Road

The Table Mountain Trail ends at an intersection with the Charcoal Road, where lots of hikers were resting. After struggling on the trail so far, I was amused to learn from some fellow bikers that Charcoal Road was the harder section. They described it as twenty minutes of first-gear grinding, and I offered that their twenty minutes would take me an hour. I was right, down to the minute.

Charcoal Road is only about a mile long, but climbs at about 13%. It's steeper than the Kennedy Trail. For me that means lots of little rests at the top of the ramps to keep my heart rate in check, and in this case a longer rest in the middle to eat some lunch.

Toward the top one is rewarded with a view over a huge section of the valley. Looking east you can see past the Montebello Road ridge to Mount Hamilton. Looking south you can see past El Sereno to Mount Umunhum. In between you can make out the sprawl of San Jose.

Looking east from Charcoal Road. Mount Hamilton is in the
background. The ridge in the middle distance is the one climbed
by Montebello Road.  The Ridge Vineyard is visible on top.

Charcoal Road comes to a merciful end at Skyline Road and 2550 feet of elevation. At this point, I've actually returned to my original plan, or at least one version of it. In effect I've replaced perhaps 8 miles of gentle climbing with 2 miles of scrambling, but it's all an adventure.

It's time to head back to the car, but since this is Skyline, there's a little more climbing to be done. As I head southeast toward Route 9 the road generally climbs, reaching the high point of this ride at about 2650 feet just before Saratoga Gap. Along the way Skyline offers views toward the south and west, where low clouds covered the coast and the ocean.

Looking southwest from Skyline

After a couple of sodas from the hot dog guy at Saratoga Gap, I coasted down into Saratoga and my car. The Garmin tells me that it was only about 22 miles. It gave me 3300 feet of climbing, but I think part of that was because it thought I dropped quite suddenly to -80 feet on Stevens Canyon Road. 2800 feet of climbing would be more realistic.

I suppose I'll have to go back to pick up the Canyon Trail one of these days. As for Table Mountain, I'm happy to have seen it and had a very good time, but I don't know that I'll go there again anytime soon.

Corralitos and Eureka Canyon Road

I mentioned in my last post that I don't appear to have the stamina to cross over the Santa Cruz Mountains and then cross back. So before I tell you about my trip over Eureka Canyon Road, I need to go back to a truncated ride in May that led up to it. This is bound to be a long post.

In early April I thought about riding up Eureka Canyon Road, and did a little research. As it turns out, there had just recently been a mudslide that closed Highland, which is the natural road between Eureka Canyon and my house. Apparently this happens quite a lot.  This was initially bad news, but within a week or two the mud had hardened to the point that one could walk across it.

Seeing this little example of nature's fury seemed interesting, so I set off. I wanted to come up Eureka Canyon Road, and there's no easy way to do that without going down to the Capitola area first. So the plan was to ride to Summit, then down Soquel/San Jose Road to Capitola, then around to Corralitos and the return trip. Instead of turning on Soquel/San Jose I could have just continued on Highland, but I wanted to see Eureka Canyon and I hadn't yet come to grips with the shallow depths of my endurance.

As I look at the Garmin data now, I see that I started off on Saturday, May 7 around noon (and therein lies part of the problem, but more on that later). As usual, I headed over to Los Gatos, down the Los Gatos Creek Trail, and around the Lexington Reservoir on Alma Bridge Road.

El Sereno from Lexington Reservoir

From there I climbed Old Santa Cruz Highway up to the ridge, and turned left on Summit. Just past the store I turned right on the Soquel/San Jose Road, and dropped into Capitola. So far so good.

At this point I would gladly have taken the easiest, shortest possible route to Corralitos, but the only decent route I could see on the map took me right down to the bay, which I'll remind you is located at approximately zilch elevation. I went up Park Avenue and took a right on Soquel Drive.

Park Avenue, next to New Brighton Beach

Soquel Drive roughly parallels Route 1, and transforms from generic suburbia to wooded rural.

Train Bridge on Soquel Drive

Crypto tractor on Soquel Drive

Soquel Drive meets up with Freedom Boulevard, which sounds like a monstrous suburban road but actually turns into a rural two-lane road as it heads northeast. Eventually Hames Road peels off (and up) to the left.

Hames Road rising to the left; Freedom Boulevard to the right.

On the map Hames Road didn't seem like much, but it starts off with a steep ramp, and then there's another shortly afterward. The reward for this little climb is the Corralitos Market and Sausage Company. By now it was midafternoon, and I had a late lunch.

The Corralitos Market. Great sausage.

The Corralitos store marks the base of the Eureka Canyon climb. I started up the climb, but I was drained. I was making very slow progress, resting after any measly effort, and if I kept slowing down it would be quite dark before I finished. So I rolled back down to the store and called my lovely wife for a rescue.

That brings us to last Sunday, when my wife participated in the Wharf to Wharf run. I drove her down to the start in Santa Cruz, then parked near the finish in Capitola. But I brought my bike so I could finish off this ride as she drove home.

By the time the race ended and we returned to the car it was about 10:30. The morning's clouds had disappeared, but it remained cool. I retraced my path up Park to Soquel Drive, then Freedom, Hames and the store. I even retraced my steps in the store by having a sausage sandwich (Turkey Andouille, for the record) as an early lunch.

The Corralitos Creek valley, from the lower part of Eureka Canyon Road

An orchard (peaches?) on Eureka Canyon Road

Initially Eureka Canyon Road winds through some orchards and other light agriculture, but within a mile becomes a mostly shaded path through thick Redwood-heavy woods. It follows Corralitos Creek very gently upwards into a narrow canyon (that plays havoc with the GPS altimeter, I can report). The road serves a few houses and a couple of camps, but as far as I can tell has very little traffic.

Massive trees along Eureka Canyon Road

Once upon a time I was part of that traffic.  When I first moved to this area a few years ago, I drove up this road. I took a little sightseeing drive down 152 toward Watsonville, and then looking for an obscure route back I saw this road on the map. I didn't know then that it was so tiny or prone to closure. But while I remember driving through the woods and seeing the grand view across the valley, I missed everything important. I didn't hear the water flowing or feel the shade. I didn't realize that the four corners area was at the top of the hill, because of course elevation changes meant nothing to me in a car. I got no sense of isolation, of being practically (if not actually) alone in these hills.  Cycling gives you a real sense of site and situation.

The intersection of Eureka Canyon and Grizzly Flat

Within a few miles you get to an intersection with a dirt trail called Grizzly Flat Road, and the road turns toward the west. Around this point it starts climbing a little more steeply, clinging to the southern flank of the ridge. It climbs out of the trees and begins offering views of the valley. Eventually the road climbs up to the junction with Buzzard Lagoon Road and Ormsby Trail (aren't the road names great up here?), and Eureka Canyon becomes Highland Road.

The repaired section of Highland Road.
The same view on May 1, 2011

The four-way junction is a local high point at about 1950 feet. From there, Highland descends perhaps 200 feet and crosses an entrance to the Soquel Demonstration Forest, popular with mountain bikers. In fact, I'd bet that pickup trucks carrying mountain bikes account for half the traffic up here. Before you know it you climb back up to 1900 feet or so, and finally reach the area of the Great Mudslide of 2011 (not to be confused with those of 2009, 2007, or the 1990s inclusive).

When I first saw the photographs of the damaged area in April I was sure that Highland would be closed for years, if not forever. I must say that I'm impressed that the impoverished county government was able to do so much work so quickly. The road is clear and looks to be in pretty good shape, although it appears that they haven't started to address the hill yet.

The uphill section of the mudslide

The view downhill from the Highland Road mudslide

Last winter's mud, piled up on Highland Road

Highland continues on, mostly flat, passing by Mount Bache Road before quickly dropping 300 feet to meet Summit Road very near the Summit Store. I stopped for drinks.

Downright insulting.
It was a climb!

From Summit Road it's the old familiar way home, down Old Santa Cruz Highway. This time I passed by Aldercroft Heights and the ride around the east side of Lexington Reservoir. Instead I stayed on Old Santa Cruz, passed briefly onto New Santa Cruz Highway (sometimes called Highway 17) and then up the Los Gatos Creek Trail and finally back to Almaden.

The Garmin reported the first ride in May as 50 miles with over 4000 feet of climbing. It reported the second ride as 45 miles, and again over 4000 feet of climbing. In both cases, that's far too much climbing -- I don't see how it could be more than 3000 on either day. It also reported insane calorie consumption. Even with the revised numbers, it's clear that I need some better shape before I'll be able to put both of these rides together on the same day.

Zayante and Felton

One thing I've never managed to do on my bike is ride over the Santa Cruz mountains... and then back again.  I'm not quite sure why.  I am by no means an accomplished cyclist, but I've survived rides with more total elevation gain -- Mount Hamilton, for example.  I suspect it has something to do with the total length of the ride, or else the fact that the climb back over the hill inevitably takes place after a long rest or a meal.

So it was that I made my most recent attempt yesterday, with the same result.

I took a by-now-familiar route to the ridge of the mountains. For me, that means first over to Los Gatos and then up the Los Gatos Creek trail.  You have to climb up a very steep, loose dirt ramp near the end, which isn't easy on skinny tires. Then it's up the face of the dam, and around Lexington Reservoir on Alma Bridge Road. The very pretty Old Santa Cruz Highway takes you to Summit.

Vineyards along Summit Road

I've ridden that route many times, but at the intersection with Summit I've always turned left, toward the Summit Store and Loma Prieta. This time I went the other way. Since Summit/Skyline always goes up, it went up. In this case there's a short ramp that lifts you from 1600 feet at the intersection to about 1800 feet, at about a 10% grade. Ugh. After another ramp, not quite as steep, you drop down quite a bit and cross I-17. But then you have to immediately climb up the other side to meet the top of Mountain Charlie Road. Ugh, again.

A little more climbing brought me to what turned out to be the peak of the ride, along Summit Road. At this stage, with the road roughly level, you could really enjoy the beautiful day and the scenery. Summit Road here is a one-lane country road, with a Christmas tree farm, vineyards, puffy clouds and layered views. Here I was riding in the middle of summer, and when I started out I was wondering whether to bring a jacket. Not too bad at all.

The intersection of Summit and Upper Zayante Roads

Upper Zayante Road

The road falls quite a bit to the intersection with Upper Zayante Road, my target for the day. I'm going to have to remember that if I come back up this way. I went down Upper Zayante, which is a lovely, windy, one-lane path through some deep woods.

The top part of the descent is fairly steep and twisty, and I stopped several times to let my rims cool. I suppose that means that coming back up this way is difficult, but that's a concern for another day.

Upper Zayante Road drops down the ridge until it meets Zayante Creek, which it follows all the way down into Felton. Along the way it actually gains some altitude, and lower down the road it rolls a bit, as one would expect.

Felton Covered Bridge

I finally rolled into Felton about 2 in the afternoon. I stopped by a grocery store for a sandwich and some drinks, then went over to the part next to the covered bridge to eat.

I've been to Felton a few times, mostly for the Big Trees Park, but I had never seen the bridge before. I guess my expectations were pretty low, but I must say it's an impressive bridge. It's much larger than I expected, and much taller than any other covered bridges I've seen.

Well, now, it's time to go back. My plan, at this stage, was to ride back to Summit on Mountain Charlie Road. I finished my sandwich and hopped back on the bike, but then as soon as the road tilted upward I knew I was toast. There was no way I was going to make it back up there. I slunk back to the park and awaited a rescue from my wife.

The Garmin registered about 30 miles and  3100 feet of climbing, which is probably a little generous. It also reported an insane number of calories consumed, which I don't really understand. But maybe it knows something I don't; maybe that's why I didn't have the energy to back up to the ridge. Who knows. In any case, it was a lovely afternoon.

Montebello and Black Mountain

Yesterday was perhaps the hottest day of the year so far here. The wise choice would have been to hunker down, close the windows, and fire up the air conditioning for the first time this year. Instead, I chose to head out for a long bike ride. OK, then, in that case the key would be to get an early start.

So it was that about noon I rolled out on my ride. There wasn't a merciful cloud in the sky, and it was already about 90 F, which is about... let's see here... 12e Celsius, I guess.

My plan was to start in Saratoga, ride up Montebello Road to Page Mill, then up to Skyline and back down to Saratoga via Route 9. It didn't work out that way, but it did indeed start with me driving to Saratoga to cut 20 miles off the edges of the ride. I was riding my mountain bike because I knew Montebello turned to dirt, but I wasn't sure whether it was suitable for the road bike.

I rode up Route 9 to Pierce, which peaks at the entrance to the Mountain Winery at about 850 feet. It then drops down to meet Mt. Eden Road, which then climbs up back up to about the same elevation at its peak, crossing over what I presume is Mt. Eden. The road then drops gently along the Stevens Creek Reservoir where it eventually meets up with bottom of Montebello Road.

Stevens Creek Reservoir, near the bottom of Montebello Road

The first part of Montebello Road, running alongside a quarry, is quite steep and offers precious little shade.

Switchback on Montebello

It climbs up the eastern flank of the hill, occasionally giving glimpses off into Sunnyvale and Mountain View, but most memorably offering views of the enormity of the quarries at the end of Stevens Creek Road. The picture below shows the valley, but on the left side you can see a huge quarry -- and it's one of the smaller ones. On the far right of the picture you can just make out the edge of Stevens Creek Reservoir.

Sunnyvale and Mountain View, from Montebello Road

Shade on Montebello Road, near Flintlock Road

The road eventually turns toward the northwest, its primary direction. You start seeing vineyards here, and the road becomes a single lane. The tree cover becomes a little heavier. On a hot bright day like this, the difference between an exposed section of road and one that's in shade is palpable.  I'd be surprised if it wasn't 20 or 30 degrees.

I started the ride with three bottles of water, and I had already emptied two of them. I was at 1800 feet, with another 1000 feet of climbing ahead of me. Lower down I had passed by running water, and I realized that the streams were likely to be increasingly feeble the higher I climbed. As I took this picture there was a little stream next to me. On the maps it's called Swiss Creek, which is a grand name for something with the flow of a garden hose. But it's water nonetheless, and apparently clear, so I filled two water bottles.

The road climbs steeply out of the Swiss Creek valley to about 2200 feet, where it reaches the Ridge Vineyards. Ridge Vineyards is well regarded and was recently featured on James May's Road Trip, a show in which a British odd couple travel around talking about wine. In the clip below you can see them driving an RV up to the vineyard, and if you look closely you can see a guy on a bike rounding the corner behind them. That moment, quite specifically, is what made me want to ride this particular road today.

As you pass by the winery, you're on the ridge. On the left, the southern slope is all vineyard. On the right is woodland, Silicon Valley, and the bay.

Silicon Valley from Montebello Road

A memorial for Eric Linthorst

As I was taking one my frequent rests in the shade up here, I noticed a small aluminum plaque near the side of the road. It is apparently in memory of Eric Linthorst, who died in 2005. At my own age, I can't help noticing. I don't know anything about it beyond what's written here.

By this time in the ride it was mid-afternoon, the heat of the day, and up here this is precious little shade. A half mile after the winery, Montebello has gradually climbed to about 2600 feet, and ends. It becomes a fire road at this point, climbing a barren ridge covered with brown grass to Black Mountain, an antenna farm at 2800 feet. This is the high point of this ride, and the low point of my energy. As I took this picture, the little hill ahead of me seemed insurmountable.

Black Mountain

After Black Mountain, the trail heads down to meet Page Mill Road at about 2150 feet. According to the original plan I would have turned left toward Skyline, but at this point every small rise in the road looked a mountain to me, and my legs were just empty. So I turned right, headed down Page Mill Road, and called for a rescue ride.

I suppose the last section of this ride was this morning, when I took my road bike to Saratoga to pick up my car. That short ride was uneventful but reminded me that I wouldn't have had anything like the energy to get as far as I did, had I started from home.

The Garmin reports just 22 miles, with 3100 feet of climbing. I think that's about fair this time. My average speed: walking. Yipes. I'll have to try it again when the weather has returned to its customary pleasantness.