Thanks to Jason and Erica and Cat, I got to go on an interesting 120-mile bike tour up to Wisconsin and back while I was visiting Chicago, and I didn’t have to do any of the planning.
(rhetorical question: who rides 120 miles to a Super 8 motel at the edge of a cluster of strip malls, just for fun?)
I was less interested in any specific destination than I was in checking out a variety of towns, environments, and regional cycling infrastructure (impressive!), and this ride certainly delivered.
It started off through lush, damp, marshy woods (this section of bike trail runs along the North branch of the Chicago river, which periodically floods, which I hear is why this land hasn’t been developed).
Rolling past the Japanese Islands at the Chicago Botanic Gardens:
There’s some Angry Birds joke to be made here:
This section of the trail ran dead-straight for miles, below high-voltage power lines (the utility company right of way presumably protected this narrow strip of land from other types of development):
Our one unplanned detour, a few hundred feet down a grassy path that looked like it could be a shortcut… but wasn’t:
Later that day, the trail gave way to gravel or crushed limestone— still hard-packed enough to ride on easily, though a few softer sections would have been tricky on really narrow tires.
Scoffing at path closures:
And by late afternoon, we were at the end of the DPR trail, near the Illinois-Wisconsin border:
Some slogging along the on-again, off-again shoulders on busy multi-lane streets brought us to strip malls at the edge of Kenosha, Wisconsin, where we ate unhealthy food at a Buffalo Wild Wings surrounded by fifty flat-screen TVs, had some local beer (Spotted Cow from New Glarus), and then watched whatever movie we could find on TV (Rambo) at the Super 8 before passing out.
The next morning, up moderately early (I had a flight to catch later that day, so wanted to leave some buffer time), I realized I’d reassembled a broken chain incorrectly the day before and it had been wearing a groove in a tab on my derailleur— the noisy riding on gravel and end-of-day fatigue had me ignoring the warning noises.
“Milk for America”, with a cow as M:
Amazingly well-maintained, smooth, asphalt paths in Southern Wisconsin:
Riding through industrial areas North of Chicago:
A freeway off-ramp that looks like it’s been blocked off for years, and not a single car in sight.
At a gate to another bike path, several bike-themed sculptures:
A few-block detour to a scenic overlook of Lake Michigan:
Skokie sculpture park:
And finally back in Chicago (though these sharrows suggesting bikes ride in the sometimes heavily cracked, glass-and-gravel-covered section of pavement right next to the sidewalk were a bit suspect).
I disassembled and packed the bike into the case (only 16 minutes start-to-finish, down from 30 last time), and back to the airport I went. Success!
Yesterday a friend organized a ride from San Mateo to San Gregario (via Kings Mountain road, which I’d never biked), through La Honda (past Alice’s Restaurant), and back up Tunitas Creek (which I’d been on once before). And just for the heck of it, I decided to add on an early morning ride from San Francisco to San Mateo rather than take the Caltrain down.
The forecast for 40% chance of afternoon rain fell our way— just 10 minutes of freezing rain and misery on our way into Woodside on Skyline, but otherwise clear, sunny, and cool— great biking weather.
I rode on steep, twisty, and nearly car-free back roads through overgrown forests, over rolling hills dotted with sheep and cows, above ocean cliffs on Highway 1, around Crystal Springs reservoir, and along the Bay past bird-filled marshes and lagoons. A fine way to spend a Sunday.
And while the numbers are secondary, I’ll let myself feel pretty good about the 92 miles, including two major (5+ mile long, 2000’ elevation) hills.
A few photos from the day:
Here are a few other 1-day or weekend rides I’ve been kicking around, to do this spring or summer… including a few repeats of good rides from last year, since that makes the planning easy.
None of them have dates yet, just giving people a heads-up… and if you’re especially interested in certain ones, let me know and it will be more likely to happen…
From shortest to longest:
120+ miles, a group of 15 great people, sunny weather, lush farmland and shady redwood forests, a few exciting hills, the kindness of strangers, good beer, and an action-movie just-in-time finish… easily one of my favorites. Read on for a longer than usual writeup in story form, with photos and details…
Back in December I’d floated the idea of an overnight ride up to Russian River Brewing Co during the two-weeks-a-year Pliny the Younger release. Interest blossomed, we hashed out logistics, and by the day of the ride we were a group of 15(!): people I’d done long rides with as well as new friends-of-friends, on loaded touring bikes and sporty road bikes, people who’ve ridden centuries and people who’ve rarely biked more than 40 miles… and even someone who hadn’t biked more than 7 or 8 miles in a stretch (I’ll admit, I was a little worried, but he was a natural).
Here’s the high-level post-bridge route, based on a scouting ride, a solo Sonoma ride last summer, my favorite paper bike maps, Google Maps, and suggestions from a few other cyclists, valuing “scenic” over “most direct” while trying to keep it below 70 miles each way:
If you’re interested in trying this route, I also sketched out more detailed maps with turn-by-turn cuesheets and food and water stops, for both the 70ish-mile route up (SF -> Mill Valley -> Fairfax -> Nicasio -> Petaluma -> Santa Rosa) and the 50ish-mile route back (Santa Rosa -> Petaluma via Stony Pt Rd -> Nicasio -> Lucas Valley Rd -> San Rafael -> Larkspur -> Larkspur ferry), and just to be over-organized, a little trip guide.
On to the ride itself…
We started at 7:30AM in an empty Four Barrel Coffee:
After collecting our group across the city, we crossed the bridge (no conflict with pedestrians this early!) Unusually, the headlands were fog-free and sunny:
We skipped through Sausalito and along the Mill Valley Bike Path (something I’ve done so often it slips by without thinking), then up Camino Alto, cheered at the top by some strangers with a cowbell (probably for cyclists we saw training for ALC). The usual twists and turns (see the cuesheet above, or just follow bike route 15 to Ross and then 20 to Fairfax) brought us to Gestalt Haus in downtown Fairfax.
Alas, it and Lydia’s across the street were both closed. But while we stood milling about, the owner poked his head out and invited us in, firing up the grill earlier than usual. We took over the entire wall-mounted bike rack:
Sausages (in my case, two) and a warm-up beer (a light, refreshing Kölsch) energized us for the next leg:
I’ll make an exception to my anti-animated-GIFs stance for this one:
We relaxed there for a while, chatting with the friendly owner and listening to music he’d recorded off the sound board at various live rock shows.
Time to move on. Up we rode on Sir Francis Drake before turning right towards Nicasio. Immediately, the traffic thinned out and we had a series of small hills through the woods:
Past the tiny Nicasio fire department and reservoir we turned towards Petaluma. The hills were lush and green— a far cry from the “golden” (brown) grass I’m used to seeing later in the season.
We hit a larger hill and spread out a bit, regrouping at the Marin Cheese Company for a snack. A few more hills (and my usual unintentional white lies, “just one more hill … well, I meant one more *big* hill, this one’s really only a half-hill, and this one doesn’t count because you can get some speed down the previous hill and get part way up, and this one has a scenic overlook half way up you’d stop at anyway, so it’s really two small hills in a row, and, and…”), past old and new wind turbines and cows, and a twisty swoop down into Petaluma proper:
A jog off of the usual roads let us ride through much of Petaluma on an alternately dirt and paved bike trail along a canal:
From there on, it was a few wide and flat streets with moderately heavy traffic but good bike lanes or shoulders to Santa Rosa, with music from the bike-mounted stereo Ellen brought motivating us to crank out those last 20 miles with minimal stops:
We’d heard rumors of a 3-4 hour wait to get in to Russian River Brewing on weekends during the Pliny the Younger season, and indeed there was a long line at 5pm. Two guys had even brought chairs and backgammon (shifting it down every 5-10 minutes) to pass the time:
After that much riding, we (or at least I) had no problem waiting around— we got pizza delivered to line, got some burritos, took side trips to the hotel to change and drop off gear, put some James Brown on the stereo, and day turned to night.
Seating for fourteen (we’d gained one and lost two) seemed like a tall order, but they took pity on us and let us take over the (chilly) outdoor patio and send a few scouts in to acquire beer, and later let us all inside. Success! We’d even worried they might run out of their daily allocation of Pliny the Younger before we could order one (it’s happened in the past), but we faced no such problem.
I thought Pliny the Younger was great, after half-expecting it to be an overhyped hop monster. It had a pine-resin-and-grapefruit scent, but was balanced, slightly malty, and less bitter and overwhelmingly hoppy than I expected (perhaps the 10.7% alcohol helped keep the bitterness at bay). We also had to pick up a 20-beer sampler, and the Damnation 23 (golden belgian-style ale, strong, aged with oak chips) and Supplication (sour ale aged in pinot noir barrels with cherries— very rare to find on tap anywhere except the brewery) were group favorites.
Their pizza’s also good, I’d recommend the Excell (pesto, sausage, caramelized onions, spinach, mozzarella).
We whiled away the evening there, failed to convince them to give us a discount on a bike jersey (thanks for trying, friends),and some of us tucked in early, some had dubious conversations with locals in the hot tub at the retro-chic Flamingo Resort (just $99/night for a two-bed room, they let you bring your bike into your room, and unlike some of the motels I’d looked into, no long lists of 1-star reviews on tripadvisor related to late-night drug busts in the parking lots and swarms of roaches…), and some of us detoured up to Healdsburg for a late-night Allagash Black… but that’s another story.
SUNDAY.
Our fuzzy “meet at 8:30, roll at 9” plan evolved into “roll at 9… over to the IHOP across the street and debate the various calories-per-dollar options” (near the top, the Chicken and Spinach Salad, with a horrifying 1600 calories, 118 g fat, and 2340 mg sodium).
In any big group, some people will be bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and antsy to start earlier, and some will want to nurse their coffee and water and take their time— but everyone kept their cool.
Hitting the road later and slightly sore from the previous day elevated the idea of catching a ferry back to SF from Larkspur, still a solid 50+ mile ride, but one that would let us skip about 20 miles of the more repetitive near-SF riding (and avoid riding in the dark if we didn’t make good enough time). Hey, I’d been excited all along to finally ride on Lucas Valley Road, and perhaps get a late lunch at the amazing Sol Food in San Rafael, so it was a plan.
I picked Stony Point Rd from Santa Rosa to Petaluma partly because it was a straight shot with minimal second-morning mental effort required: about 20 miles on a single road, without worrying about looking for turns. And it turned out to be a good road as well— some farms, rusted tractors, a bike lane or shoulder most of the way, and good pavement once we got the first few miles of light rubble and broken glass out of the way.
It was here that we had our only flats of the trip… four of them, as well as some bike spring and brake problems that took up some time. No big deal— we were all in it together, and we had all the tools we needed. It’s good the people with flats were so prepared, though— another 10 minutes fixing flats at this point would have changed the whole afternoon… (*dramatic foreshadowing*)
Back through Petaluma, we hit the longest hill of the trip— the climb up out of Petaluma on D St, where the twists and turns taunt you: “maybe the summit is just around the corner— I don’t remember it taking so long on the way down”.
Everyone made it to the top, cheered on, and we took a break to reactivate our pancreases.
At this point, I realized we probably wouldn’t make the last Larkspur ferry of the day (4:30pm), as our average pace so far would drop us there 30-60 minutes too late, and I only expected us to get more tired as the day went on (though we had just finished a slow uphill and a series of bike repairs, which skewed our average pace artificially low).
Don’t hate me, fellow riders, when you read this, but I silently considered taking us on an alternate route through Novato and along (or on) the 101 for 20 miles, which might have been shorter and less hilly and increased our chances of catching the ferry… but decided not to bring it up. It would have been so much less scenic! Well, and also, since I hadn’t scoped out that route ahead of time, I saw a real chance of getting us lost on industrial back streets along the way or wasting precious minutes planning it out.
So we kept to the original plan and cut our stops short.
Back through Nicasio, a left turn onto Lucas Valley Rd, and— a gorgeous segment of riding through redwoods that I highly recommend:
At some point, I handed off informal sweep duty to Vince (riding with the rear group, to ensure no one without a patch kit and pump falls off the back of the pack, gets a flat, and gets left behind), sprinted to the front up a gradual uphill, and did a quick map check on my phone with 8% battery remaining.
The whole group was keeping up a brisk pace, and was only a minute or so spread out.
The good news: over the past 2 hours, we’d made up most of the needed time. The bad news: at least at Google Maps speed, we’d still miss the ferry by at least 10 minutes out of the 50 we had left (not even counting the fact that we needed to find the right dock and buy tickets before boarding).
Someone who worried he was holding the rest of the group back said we could just tell him the route to SF and we could race ahead to the ferry— but that’s not the way we ride. Glances were exchanged, some trite phrase like “let’s do this” or “let’s roll” was uttered, and we took off as a group.
We swooped down from the summit of Lucas Valley into San Rafael at 35+ mph, all managing to avoid two major potholes (marked with spray paint by someone— thank you, stranger). Since I’d never taken this route but had turns jotted down on paper, we worked in teams— with someone hanging back at critical turns to make sure no one missed them, while a few of us rode ahead to sanity-check the route and make any needed decisions without holding up the rest of the group.
We seemed to be making good time before an unexpected modest-size hill on Los Ranchitos (I passed a slow-cycling kid and her father, and later heard that one of us farther back involuntarily cursed out loud when he saw the hill ahead, then was mortified to have done that in front of a young child).
Most of the way into San Rafael, bike route 5 with signposts into San Rafael presented itself to the side of the road, parallel to the 101. That hadn’t specifically been on the cue sheet I’d jotted down, but it sounded faster than the road, right? We shifted onto it and I briefly regretted the decision— it took us down between two rising concrete walls, and it was unclear when we’d be able to exit it. Despite ambiguous signage, we made the right call on where to exit, cut over to Lincoln, and cranked our way past a shopping mall and through San Rafael (no time for a stop at Sol Food). So close! You know, we might just make it if we don’t hit red lights or take any wrong turns.
A final race out of San Rafael, through the new-ish Cal Park Tunnel, across a busy street, and the front of the pack rolled in to the Larkspur Ferry Terminal with about four minutes to spare.
The ticket machines were open, we bought a stack of tickets as everyone caught up, someone realized we were waiting on the wrong ferry ramp, and everything fell into place.
With minutes to go, we boarded the last ferry of the day as a group, hung up our bikes, and watched as Larkspur disappeared behind the wake.
Whew. High fives all around.
There were so many places that day we could have lost an extra four minutes and been stuck biking the last 25 miles into San Francisco as it got dark and wet (rain was forecast starting at 4 or 5pm, though it’s unclear if it ever fell).
What a weekend. Thanks, everyone.
Pliny the Younger, after 11 hours of biking + standing-in-line
55 miles in, sunny
Cheese Factory stop
Four of us biked a loop from Menlo Park to Pescadero, mostly on low-traffic back roads, through redwood and eucalyptus groves. The 63 miles and 7000’ of elevation gain (most of it in two major hills) made it a bit of a challenge as well.
Quick route reminder stapled around the handlebars:
Rolling hills, fields, solar-powered houses:
Taking a break in Pescadero to eat lunch outside, including excellent artichoke bread from Arcangeli Grocery:
Highway 1 (which has good shoulders in this section):
Some riding highlights included Old La Honda (3 miles of uphill at a remarkably consistent grade, making it easy to keep a pace), the Tunitas Creek climb (about 9 miles of uphill, 6 of them with a significant grade, through dark, nearly car-free redwood forests thick with ferns), and the rolling hills and downhills of Pescadero Creek Road (my new favorite set of rolling hills in the Bay Area— a burst of energy through them let me mainly stay in my top gear and keep a 20-25mph pace for 10 miles).
We saw startled deer, horses, classic cars, the ocean, and remarkably little fog.
This ride’s made it onto the “favorite routes list”.
18 Reasons threw a Full Moon Barn Dance party at Circle JR Ranch in Sonoma recently. Eating, drinking (Linden St beer and Sodacraft soda), horseshoes, tours of a Bi-Rite garden, lasso lessons, dancing… I could have driven up with a friend, but I figured— why not bike?
The most direct route would have been through San Rafael and up on the 37 to the 121, but after looking at the excellent Marin Country Bike Coalition map’s warnings of missing shoulders and reading a few online posts about those road segments, I decided I was willing to add 9 extra miles and some hills to ride via Fairfax / Nicasio / Petaluma:
It was about 135 miles round trip, and going up took about 7 hours including several stops for food (5 hours of riding time).
The standard treat-myself Saturday pre-ride breakfast— Primavera at the Ferry Building farmers’ market.
Bridge shrouded in fog.
Stopped at the new Nicasio Valley Cheese Company (they kindly refilled my water) and tasted some cheese. Wait a minute— that decorative little ceramic pitcher labeled “Valle Maggia” looks familiar (scroll down a few photos). Well, that’s surreal (explanation: the owners of this creamery are from that region).
Many roads had wide, smooth shoulders.
A few didn’t (the uphill sections from Nicasio to Petaluma were especially suspect, as was the 2-mile section of 121 I had to ride to get to the ranch).
Wild blackberries? I’ll stop for that.
15 classic cars passed in a row.
The outskirts of Petaluma, USA is not where I expected to see a bike-priority signal.
Packing light (but still a tent and all the necessary camping gear).
Trying to learn how to lasso a calf (with models). Not very successful.
Live music, barn dancing, good food (hamburgers made from a cow raised about 50’ from where I was sitting), hay bales, garden tour (including eating a mole pepper straight off the plant), and quite a full moon. I didn’t take many photos.
The pond by the Marin French Cheese company, between Petaluma and Point Reyes Station.
On the way up, I met Frank here: he was waiting with his car to support a group of cyclists on a long day ride. We chatted about Long Haul Truckers, and Amsterdam (based on my panniers), and he refilled my water and offered me a snack. On the way back, I met a group of women on a Nicasio<->Petaluma ride and chatted about RAGBRAI and biking across Ohio (less flat than Iowa).
I made it back in about 5 hours of moderately brisk riding in excellent weather. Whew.
Circle JR Ranch, Sonoma
A very approximate Netherlands-Belgium ride map (not the actual turn-by-turn path), based on towns and locations I remember visiting. See the previous-post photos or some to-be-written future post about the trip.
(San Francisco rides are on hiatus for June, but here are photos and a map from a ride from two years ago, which I’d never got around to writing up)
After a week in France for work (lucky me, I know), I impulsively bought some detailed road/topo maps at the Espace IGN in Paris, a map-lover’s dream. Then I took a train to Épernay (a famous champagne town and region) and rented a bike for €15/day at the Bulleo swimming pool / sports center at the edge of town (map), which had strict rules about appropriate swimwear:
I’d intended to do 2-3 days of riding stopping off in different towns, but it was pouring rain most of the week, so I just did one day of riding— a roughly 35-mile circuit along back roads:
Rental bikes are the same everywhere— heavy and upright:
Paved roads wound through unfenced vineyards, with rarely a car in sight:
Every few miles I’d pass through a small town.
Some had a single bakery or bar for refueling:
A huge Champagne bottle along the side of the road:
Nonplussed cow (video):
Champagne cellars were dark and gloomy:
There was no real sprawl— towns ended abruptly and returned to fields for a few miles before the next town:
And at the end of the ride, a stop at a chocolate manufacturing plant in an industrial park (video):
It started over a drink with JF, who mentioned The Fat Cyclist’s “100 Miles to Nowhere” (which in 2008 was a crazy decision to ride 100 miles on rollers indoors with snacks and TV, and is now a distributed challenge/excuse to ride 100 miles on a short loop course near your house and also raise some money for Livestrong). We decided to do it.
Why?
Well, why not?
This is exactly the kind of arbitrary structure and Just-Because event I like, and I’m less interested in heavily-organized bike events or races (RAGBRAI excepted). And since I’d be out of town on the official date, we did it last Saturday, joined by KE.
We considered loops around the Port of Oakland (what could be more Nowhere than where there’s no There there?) but decided to ride this slightly-under-7-mile loop in Golden Gate Park over and over (plus some miles to and from the park). It’s a scenic, partly car-free route on weekends, we’d get to see the ocean 14 times, and we’d get to watch the evolution of park BBQs over the course of the day. Some photos follow:
License plate, with the Team Fatty clydesdale logo. The tear-off paper strips on the bike top tube are my low-tech odometer / lap counter, since I don’t have a bike computer or GPS:
Halfway through each lap, at the ocean, I took a quick photo. The day can really be summed up by this one collage (hi-res version):
Starting near the Conservatory of Flowers:
At the ocean (the sign cropped out in the upper right says Tsunami Evacuation Route).
Biking along mostly car-free back roads through the park:
One group of picknickers we passed had a bouncy castle and some human-size “hamster balls”:
Sedate bison:
Something nice about riding in circles is there’s no rigid lunch time— when we got hungry, we took a detour to Velo Rouge Cafe for food.
About half done, plus a comical set of bike accessories:
Mini * 3:
Twelve loops in we were talking about how comfortable the weather had been. You know what’s nice about biking in San Francisco? It’s not too hot, not too cold, and between April and October it basically never rains.
Then during loop 13 it started pouring. Hard. Driving sheets of rain, drenching shirts, shoes, and socks, overflowing and masking potholes (ow, my wrists), and making other groups pack up their BBQs, jump in their cars, and dash out of the park.
We looked at each other and decided to keep going— once we’d come this far, we were going to finish 14 laps.
The caption for this photo is “riding on rollers in front of a TV with a bowl of snacks [see the t-shirt logo] sounds pretty good right now”.
And then, somehow, we were done. It took us all day (roughly 9 to 6:30), but we made it, with no major problems except for KE being T-boned by an errant skateboarder. And we did notice something new about the park almost every time around (“did you see that interesting pine tree?” “where?” “back there— I’ll point it out to you in half an hour when we pass it again”).