I started this ride late, since I forgot my helmet. Both the helmets I already own are customized for Bike Party, so instead of driving home, I got a third one. I’m LIVIN’ LARGE!
La dropped me off at the top of Quimby Road, and I’d gone no more than 15 yards when I saw a freshly dead snake on the shoulder. It was a big one – about four feet long – and still flexible. I collected it into a large ziploc bag and carried it with me for the rest of the trip, so I could deliver it to Monica at the UC Berkeley Museum of Vertebrate Zoology. The things we do for science!!
The park was splendid. I paused to chomp a sandwich and saw a bunny hop slowly over the road. Partway down Hotel Trail I saw a series of clustered holes in the road, each boiling over with large black ants, so I grabbed a shot of that. Many flowers were in bloom, and I had a sneezing fit from some of the pollen. Good thing I had a lot of water.
On my way up Highway 130, out of the valley, I caught a glimpse of a frog in my headlight, and stopped to grab a picture. It was slowly crawling across the road, towards the thick bushes on the eastern edge, and the lake beyond. I decided to give it some help, so it didn’t become a froggie pancake. For my troubles, it peed all over me. Good thing I still had lots of water to rinse off with!
Haven’t been all the way up here since 2008! The air was a bit cold, but it was still a nice climb. This time my bike had the custom cassette on it, so I didn’t have to do any switchbacking, and I took fewer rest stops. Hooray for “granny gear”!
During each ride, there is always at least one especially cool moment, during which I can say, “this makes the whole ride totally worthwhile.” This time, there were two moments.
While pedaling to the top of the highest bend in Calaveras road, the sun oozed out from the clouds directly behind me, low on the horizon, and warmed my back at the same time it bathed the whole road around me in a brilliant yellow glow. I rode on in silence, enjoying this ethereal lighting, and then somewhere way down the hillside in the darkened valley, a cow began mooing very aggressively. I yelled, “QUIET, COW! I’M HAVING A MOMENT HERE!” The cow went quiet.
On the way back down the steepest hillside, I was leaning on my brakes and moving slowly. I passed around a bend and saw a collection of very large birds arranged on the fenceposts at the roadside. Another bird was down in the road, and as I drew near it took startled flight and dropped what appeared to be a ground squirrel out of its claws and into the ditch. I slid slowly up to the birds and halted, and finally got a good look at their heads – withered-looking and bright red with beady eyes. I can’t remember the last time I’d been closer than six feet to a colony of vultures. Before I could sneak the camera out of my bag, a car came roaring up the road and they all took flight.
