Everything Is Just a Little Bit Classier in the Wine Country

Separated at Birth?

But Wait, There's More

Spied by an intrepid associate (aka Mark) at 17th & Church

Another Day In the Sierra Buttes

Another weekend in Downieville.

Andrew went up Friday night to do some volunteer trailwork with the Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship. Kim, Aaron, Yvette and I headed up early Saturday morning and took a spin on the North Yuba Trail in the afternoon. North Yuba was much more challenging than we expected -- think Second Divide Trail minus the exposure. With the regroups, bonks, two flats (guilty) and a broken chain (me again) a seven and a half mile jaunt turned into a three hour odyssey. Reality quickly set in and we rode downriver on the highway to the car. We met up with Andrew, who told us about the new re-routes he built on Pauley Creek, and drank free beer at the volunteer post-work party. We bought too much beer at the store, ate too much dinner at the Grubstake, built a campfire at our cabin and fell asleep to the sound of the river.

After a late start we drove up to Sierra City on Sunday morning. We parked at the Wild Plum campground and headed uphill. Two and a half hours later we reached the top.

The Perfect Cycling Trail is really "open" to mountain bikes about the first two weeks of June -- late enough for the approach to be (mostly) free of snow yet early enough that hordes of hikers have not yet descended upon it.

It's only seven miles from the top back to the highway. It took us nearly three hours to descend. The trail was admittedly too technical for Yvette and Chad. But that's mountain biking, isn't it? You get thrown into precarious situations; you go slow, survive and do it all over again.

It Wasn't Supposed To Be Like This

So my boy Jason and I decide to ride the Headlands last night. On the way over the bridge I keep telling myself that this will be an easy aerobic ride. No heroic measures.

Jason and I meet up at the Conzelman parking lot and head up the hill. We manage to keep things mellow all the way up Conzelman and down Coastal. We cross over the road and ride down Rodeo Valley Trail towards Miwok.

I've never had much luck with Miwok. It's just a little too long and a little too steep for me to ride it strong all the way up. At some point I always have to downshift. But we're riding up and chatting away, and I'm feeling pretty good, so I keep holding my gear. About two-thirds of the way up I realize that I'm still in that gear, so I decide that I'm going to hold it to the top. Why stop now?

I actually make it to the top feeling strong. Jason is right behind. We chat for a minute with some guy coming (illegally) down from the top of Bobcat. Jason wants to continue, but I want to keep the ride to 90 minutes. Being the smartass that I am I tell Jason that we should ride up Slacker Hill. Never having heard of Slacker Hill he agrees.

On the way down we blow past the guy we were talking to. We cross back over Rodeo Valley road and head back up Coastal. At the gate we catch three other riders. A fourth rider overtakes the other three and begins to take off. I'm still feeling pretty good so I keep up my effort. I'm not trying to catch him exactly, but I don't want him to pull away either. As I climb I'm slowly moving up through my gears and about three-quarters of the way up I catch him. Feeling that my job was done I sit on his wheel. We stay that way until the final 200 yards where the trail levels out. My rabbit decides that he wants to be a hero, so he sprints to the gate. I spin through the gate and circle the parking lot until Jason arrives, which isn't long.

We head down McCullough for a few yards until we reach the bottom of the Slacker Hill trail.

Jason looks up at the trail. "How far do you want to go up?"

"Let's go until we have to stop." The trail averages a 16% grade. I fully expect we'll go a hundred yards or so and turn around.

Jason blasts up the hill. I follow. We make it over some water bars and reach the first level spot.

"How much further?" he asks.

"We haven't stopped yet," I tell him.

We continue up the next pitch, which is more eroded than the lower section. We're still going. Unbelievably, we both clean it and make the final climb to the top. The only other time I had climbed Slacker Hill I stopped four or five times.

The views, by the way, are totally worth it.

Waiting

21st Street near Valenica
San Francisco, CA

Evening Commute No. 3

17th Street
San Francisco, CA