Summit Sideroads

On Sunday I spent some time exploring an area I normally buzz right through.

View Sideroads off Summit in a larger map

In what appears to be a developing bad habit, I didn't manage to get out on Saturday, and my time was constrained on Sunday. I've been meaning to take a real bruiser of a ride, but I wouldn't have time on Sunday, either for the ride itself or the inevitable recovery. I don't remember how I came up with the idea of exploring around Summit Road, but I was immediately excited about it. I used to ride around that area a bit, but once I got enough range to ride to Santa Cruz, the Summit area became just a place to pass through. Sunday, I decided, I would turn that on its head, and just poke around until I was beat.

The day started off deep in fog, but I got going in the late afternoon when it was just clearing. I took the usual route. On the steep ramp near the dam I had to walk up almost the whole thing, annoyingly.

The bridge at Wrights Station

When I got up to Summit I headed east, then took a left on Morrill Road, heading for Wrights Station. I've been down this way before, but it was a long time ago, and I had forgotten how beautiful it this road is. Morrill runs into the deep woods, then when you head down Wrights Station Road it gets deeper into the woods and even more isolated and quiet.

At the bottom of the road you find the Los Gatos Creek. The bridge across the creek is the only reminder that there used to be a little town here. The buildings are all gone without a trace.

Wrights Station in 1902

As you can see from the old photo, the current bridge (which corresponds to the bridge on the left, in the photo) basically points at the tunnel entrance. These days there's a fence along the bend in the road, and once beyond that you can climb down to the tunnel entrance.

The path runs along a ridge, because the area next to the hill, on the right side of the old photo, has long since collapsed and washed down the creek.

The Wrights Station tunnel entrance

Looking out from the Wrights Station tunnel

After poking around the tunnel for a bit, it was time to climb back to Summit. This climb turns out to be about 1.5 miles long, and averages a stout 7.9%. Not too bad, and worth the visit.

Morrell Cut-off

Morrill Road takes you to Summit Road, at which point you can cross the street to Morrell Road. I'm reasonably sure they're both named after the same family, who spelled their name Morrell. The sign says Morrell Road, but most places call this Morrell Cut-off, apparently built by Hiram Morrell to route dusty Santa Cruz Turnpike traffic away from his vineyards.

The cut-off involves a few hundred feet of climbing, so in the past I've always avoided it. It's a skinny little road, not exactly smooth, but just as pretty as you might expect. And the climb's nothing to worry about; again, I should take this road more often in the future.

The remains of Laurel

Morell Cut-off climbs to the Soquel Road. I took that south to Redwood Lodge Road, and then took that down to Laurel, another ghost town on this ride. Laurel was briefly a town, but now it's just a couple of houses at the intersection of Redwood Lodge and Schulties Roads.

Somewhere around here are two more tunnel entrances, but they're inconvenient. One is pretty obvious, but it's inconveniently behind a house. The other one, actually the southern end of the Wrights Station tunnel, is supposedly approachable but I've never managed to find it. It's down here somewhere, but I didn't see it from the road. According to this runner's account, you can find it by descending into the area on Summit Canyon Road, from Summit Road. I might try that next.

The only other time I've been here was just over a year ago, and Schulties Road was undergoing major construction. Looks like that's done now.

Schulties Road, October 2012

Same area of Schulties Road, September 2011

Excellent work. Schulties climbs gently up to Old Santa Cruz Highway, which I took southward toward Highway 17, once again enjoying the 80 year-old concrete highway in virtual solitude. After that it was back home the same old way.

Elevation profile

Sunday's ride was 50 miles, with 4700 feet of climbing. The Summit area has lots of odd little historical sights, still within reach. Lots of fun to explore; I'm glad I got the chance to do that again.

Kennedy Trail

Yesterday I took the mountain bike out for a ride up the Kennedy Trail, and over El Sombroso.

View Kennedy Trail in a larger map

I didn't have time for a long ride, and it has been a long time since I visited these trails. Plus, I had a score to settle.

I got out at about 9:30, and trudged up to the base of the climb. I was thinking back to one of my first rides in the area, when I rode to the top of Kennedy Road... and then back home. Back then, that was plenty. This time, the same route just took me to the start of the real ride.

Midway up Kennedy Trail

The Kennedy Trail is very steep, and sufficiently broken-up and dusty that it's impossible to stand up and ride without spinning the back wheel. You just have to sit there and grind. I felt pretty good, but was still going very slowly. I was happy to stop at the mid-way tree for a rest.

After the midway point, there's a steep climb followed by a long flat section. After that, this ride for me is a series of ramps I can't seem to climb. The tread on my ancient tires is pretty good for riding on the street, but doesn't have enough bite for some of these hills. Plus, I think my geometry is off. And I'm pretty weak, to cap it off. Given all of that, I spent a good portion of the ride walking up hills.

Looking north from the Kennedy Trail

When I got to the top of El Sombroso, I went up the side trail to the highest point on the ride. At this point, I had to confront some demons. The last time I descended El Sombroso on the Wood Road toward Hicks, I fell three times in the loose shale. As you might expect, that shook my confidence in my meager descending skills. So this time, I prepared. I lowered my seat, and made sure I was wearing a couple of layers of clothes to combat road rash.

Wood Road

I think my earlier problem was that I had to use too much front brake, which caused the front tire to dig into the soft surface. This time my rear brake was working correctly, so I didn't have to rely on the front to keep me from hurtling off the cliff. Plus, it looks like they've graded the road since my last trip here, because it certainly didn't seem as rocky. Nonetheless, I descended gingerly, and stopped a few times to plan my line. I arrived at the bottom of the steep part without incident.

At the end of the trail I crossed Hicks Road into Quicksilver park, basically continuing on the Wood Road toward the mercury furnaces it once fed. I rode up to English Town, then descended on the Mine Hill Trail, which previously I've only ever descended. After that it was home on the Alamitos Trail.

Elevation profile

A short ride yesterday, just short of 30 miles. I'm glad I managed to slay, or at least wound, my descending demons. I'll have to try this again a few more times to get comfortable.

Corralitos, the other way

On Sunday, I took a bike ride on a familiar route, in an unfamiliar way.

View Corralitos, the other way in a larger map

We're running through a hot streak here in Silicon Valley, and Sunday was one of the hotter ones. It was a good 10 degrees hotter than Saturday. I thought it was hot last weekend, but this was worse. On the other hand, I'd be riding among the shady redwoods, rather than the barren eastern range.

I got started around the usual time, rolling away from the house at 9:30. I took the usual route up toward the Lexington Reservoir, and I was happy to be able to ride up the notorious steep dusty ramp, despite spinning my slick back tire a bit. I continued up Old Santa Cruz Highway, feeling pretty good, and continued southeast on Summit.

Highland Road

The plan was to go to Corralitos for lunch, but I decided to mix it up ever so slightly by reversing the direction I normally go. I have climbed Eureka Canyon Road and descended the southern side of Mount Madonna Road several times, but I've never gone the other direction. So Sunday morning, when I got to the intersection of Summit and the Soquel/San Jose Road, I continued onto Highland, heading toward Eureka Canyon.

Roads ridden in an unfamiliar direction are complete strangers. One so rarely looks backward when riding that the sights are fresh, and the character of climbs are unfamiliar. In this case, I found the small climb up Highland to be very pretty, and the descent down Eureka Canyon Road wasn't as terrifying as I thought it would be. The potholes near the top are bad, but shortly afterward the road is really smooth the whole way down.

Highland Road

In Corralitos I got the usual sausage sandwich, then headed off toward Mount Madonna. Except for my over-full belly, this was a great part of the ride; the little rise on Brown Valley Road is wooded and shady, and there was very little traffic. On the descent, the road surface was bad enough to eject both my water bottles at one point, but otherwise it was a quick ride to the bottom of Mount Madonna Road.

It seems like all the roads around Mount Madonna are steep. The approach is no different, but on Sunday it was especially bad because the steep ramps were also exposed to the sun. I had to stop several times to cool down. In the past I had to do that frequently, but I thought I was past that; as it turns out, it's just a question of the prevailing temperature.

As I weaved up those hot steep ramps, I looked forward to the shade I knew was higher up. As it turns out, the shady part near the top is relatively flat; all the hard work is in the sun.

I continued down the other side of Mount Madonna Road, then turned left on Watsonville Road, heading toward Uvas. As usual, there was a little headwind, but it never grew too strong.

By this time I was basically empty of energy, and so I struggled up Uvas road past all the reservoirs, and then home.

Elevation profile

Sunday's ride was 75 miles, but with only 5200 feet of climbing. The most difficult kilometer was on the climb up Mount Madonna Road. The difficulty is measured entirely in terms of grade, but on Sunday, with the sun bearing down, it was definitely the hardest part of the ride. It's been a very pleasant summer, but it's October already, and I'm ready for some autumn.

Mount Hamilton

Last Saturday I set out to ride the Hamilton/Livermore loop, but ultimately only did the first part.

View Mount Hamilton in a larger map

I drove to the Berryessa community center reasonably early, and set off on the bike just after 9 AM. It was a lovely day, and I headed down White Road to McKee, then Alum Rock Avenue, then up Mount Hamilton Road.

By the time I was getting to the flat and open part of the first climb, it was already warm. On the second climb it was getting pretty hot, and considering that I was planning a 100-mile ride, I was already feeling uncomfortable in the saddle.

On the upper part of the climb I had nearly finished my two water bottles, which wasn't a good sign; it wasn't even noon yet, and would it would be getting a lot hotter in the dry valleys behind the mountain. The fact that I had finished two bottles meant that, try as I might, I'd be completely dehydrated at the end of the ride. So I punted; I'll do the loop when it gets a little cooler.

From the Lick Observatory, looking north.
This was taken with the new iOS 6 panorama mode.

On the way down I enjoyed the newly repaved road on the last hill. It's now quite smooth, and those two bone-jarring ruts midway down are gone. The other parts of the road that were gravelly a few weeks ago are now solid, although much rougher than that smooth top section.

Elevation profile

This ride was just 44 miles, less than half of what it should have been, with 4900 feet of climbing. The most difficult kilometer was midway through the top climb at 6.2%, just slightly steeper than the average of 5.9%.

Big Basin

On Sunday I took a long bike ride through Big Basin Redwoods State Park.

View Big Basin in a larger map

Like most days around here, the morning was chilly but the afternoon would be quite warm. I didn't want to bring any cold weather gear, so I dawdled a bit, waiting for the sun to assert itself. At about 9:30, I set out.

I've done this route several times, but it's been a while. It's one of my favorite rides, partly because it passes through one of the prettiest parks in the area and partly because the length and climbing are a good challenge for me.

I took the familiar route down the Los Gatos Creek Trail, this time having to walk my bike up the steep section because I spun out in the dust. I think that section becomes dustier and more difficult as the dry season wears on, and we're nearing the end of that cycle. I hope so, anyway, because I'm starting to loath that ramp, going up or down, but it's the only way through.

Old Santa Cruz Highway

Old Santa Cruz Highway took me up to Mountain Charlie Road, which I slowly climbed to Highway 17, and across to Summit. I descended Bear Creek Road nice and fast into Boulder Creek, where I had my customary lunch at Foster's Freeze. The owner surprised me by asking if I knew "Jobst". I don't, but as an older cyclist in the Santa Cruz mountains, it was a fair bet that I would know Jobst Brandt by reputation. Or perhaps by legend. The owner lamented Jobst's absence, both from the Foster's Freeze and as a familiar sight riding through Boulder Creek. Yeah, me too.

After lunch I slowly set off, up Route 236 toward Big Basin. There's a bit of a hill in between Boulder Creek and the park, so when I enter the park I'm normally coasting down the hill. Coasting down a quiet road, on a warm day but in the cool shade of giant redwoods... this is basically why I ride the bike. I'm very lucky to be able to do this.

North Escape Road

At the park HQ I filled up my bottles, then headed up North Escape Road. Initially this road passes through additional parking lots and picnic areas, and folks walk along the road. A little later, I saw a troop of kids on a hike. But after that, I had the whole road to myself.

North Escape Road is largely flat until it crosses a creek, at which point it's pretty steep. In fact, the most difficult kilometer of the ride was in this section, with an average grade of a little over 10%. The lush setting, including a road covered with a soft bed of pine needles, somehow makes that grade much more enjoyable than similar climbs on sun-drenched roads. In fact, North Escape Road ends back at Route 236, which then becomes one of those shadeless roads for a mile or so.

I followed Route 236 to its junction with Highway 9, which I climbed to Saratoga Gap. After a pleasantly fast descent into Saratoga, I took the normal route over Kennedy back home.

Elevation profile

This ride was just short of 72 miles, with 6600 feet of climbing. It's a big ride for me, and I was pretty sore at the end of it. I think part of that is just because it was warm, and consequently dehydrating. Still, it's a great way to spend a day.

Shoreline

I've always admired people who manage to organize their lives such that they can commute by bike. On Tuesday I decided to pretend to be one of them, taking a pleasant (but flat) ride in the morning traffic.

View Mountain View in a larger map

... but not exactly early morning traffic. After my morning errands, I only hit the road around 9, after the peak of the rush hour. I was heading up to Mountain View, so I started on Camden and the San Tomas Expressway. Normally my rides are focused on climbs, so this was one of the few times when I could really try to ride quickly on a flat road. I was surprised to be able to maintain 20 mph or more reasonably easily, although it's apparently slightly downhill in this direction so I shouldn't get too excited.

Bone dry wetlands in Sunnyvale Baylands Park

I didn't really have a path in mind. When I got to Monroe, I thought the San Tomas Expressway was going to peel off eastward soon, so I took a left. Almost immediately I came upon the San Tomas/Aquino Creek Trail, and decided to see where that went. As it turns out, it goes quite near the bay, crossing 237 up toward Alviso. At that point I headed west through Sunnyvale Baylands Park, stopping briefly to look out at... well, not much, really.

After that I continued around Caribbean Drive, past the Yahoo! headquarters, and then took Moffet Park drive past the airfield on the way to Middlefield Road. I continued west to Shoreline, then took that up to, and around, the Google Headquarters.

I took Rengstorff south until it ends at El Camino Real, then took Springer south through Los Altos to the Foothill Expressway. Then I took that around to Stevens Creek, Blaney, Bollinger and then back on San Tomas Expressway and home.

Elevation profile, with especially exaggerated elevations.

This ride was a little under 50 miles and basically flat, with just 700 feet of climbing. But it shows that in a commuting scenario I can maintain a decent speed, which may just come in handy in the next few months.

Umunhum and Metcalf Road

Saturday I took a short bike ride around some pretty steep hills in the area.

View Umunhum and Metcalf in a larger map

My bike's rear tire was flat, which conspired with normal morning stuff to get me out a little late. As it turns out, the hole was on the bottom side, so I suspect that I must have pinched it last time I changed the tire. I've been riding on Serfas Seca 25 mm tires since just before I went to France. That was perhaps 700 miles ago. The back tire was worn quite flat, but worse yet had lots of cracks and cuts and whatnot. I swapped it for the 23 mm Ritchie slick that had previously been on the front, and was still noticeably round. I set out at 10 AM, hoping that I hadn't pinched this tube, too.

The currently-legal top of Umunhum, the highest point you can legitimately go, happens to be almost exactly 10 miles from my front door. I headed that way, passing from noisy suburbia to the very quiet, isolated Hicks road. Six miles into the ride I crossed the bridge that marks the start of the climb up Hicks.

The first time I rode up Hicks on my road bike, I weaved all over the road. When another rider passed by, offering encouragement, I remember saying that while I was familiar with the climb, I had only previously done it with mountain bike gears. I guess I must be a little stronger now, since I don't weave (much) anymore. Still, it's a slow and difficult climb for me.

This time I saw no other riders, either on Hicks or after I had turned up Mount Umunhum Road. This road always seems manageable because although it is very steep, it's not as steep as Hicks. I got up to the top in good order, and ate a Clif bar near the little forest of signs at the top. Then I made my way slowly and carefully down, dodging potholes and patches and gravel on this awful road. I took Hicks road south, toward New Almaden.

Normally on a ride like this I just head back home, for a quick 25-mile trip. This time I wanted a little more, so at Harry Road I took McKean south to the Calero reservoir, then took Bailey Road over the hills. I had ridden on this section of Bailey Road a long time ago, shortly after I moved to this area, and I knew there was a climb before the descent into the Santa Teresa Valley. But my memory was playing tricks on me; there's practically no climb from this direction, although there's a good descent on the other side.

Looking back at Santa Teresa Valley
from Metcalf Road

When I got near the IBM facility, I looked at a map to think about where I ought to go. One glance showed that Bailey heads west to the base of Metcalf, which was basically perfect. I hadn't done enough climbing today, so Metcalf would help. The problem was that I was nearly out of water; on the ride so far, there is zero water.

I climbed up Metcalf with creaking knees, wondering what I had got myself into. On the way up I was thinking that the motorcycle park must have water available, and when I got there I found not only a fountain but three vending machines. I enjoyed a "sports drink" before heading down the other side of the mountain.

Along San Felipe Road

The only other time I came up this way, I ended up going to the end of San Felipe Road, then returned back the way I came, over Metcalf. This time I took a left on San Felipe Road and descended into San Jose. Well, first I actually had to climb a little, which was rough on my now-tired legs. Then it was a quick descent toward San Jose.

I took Farnsworth Drive over to Silver Creek Valley Road, a little disappointed to find that I still had a bit of climbing to get to the top of the hill. Silver Creek Valley Road is wide, with two wide lanes in each direction, plus generous bike lanes. It's pretty steep and straight and doesn't get much traffic, so on the descents you can really get some speed. In my case I got to 45 mph heading down the west side of the road, taking up the right lane because the dusty bike lane's not quite enough at that kind of speed.

After that it was a quick trip home on Blossom Hill Road.

Elevation profile

This was a relatively short ride, coming in at 49 miles and 4800 feet of climbing. But pretty stiff climbing, I must say; both the Umunhum and Metcalf climbs average a 10% grade. The most difficult kilometer was near the bottom of Hicks, where it averaged over 14%. Not bad for a short ride.