Pescaderoooooooooo

(Imagine the title being said by Mr. Bill.)

My recent reconnection with cycling was really driven by a desire to do more hiking. There's a particular trail that I most often hike these days, starting at Sneath Lane and crossing over Sweeney Ridge, then down to Sharp Park and the Pacific Ocean. It's a great hike, but (I reasoned) it could be even BETTER if I didn't need to drive the ten-fifteen minutes to the trailhead. Walking would technically be feasible, but would require me to devote an entire day to the endeavor. But, what if I could ride my bike there? In fact, since the trail is paved, it would even be possible to ride from my home all the way up to the top of the ridge, to the missile silo site; then, I could stash my bike, and do the dirt trail to the coast and back, then coast all the way home. And, if I started on wheels, then maybe I could even do a true bay-to-ocean thing by working in a brief loop out to Bayview Park or something.

After a few attempts, I decided to give up on it; I just wasn't able to easily scale any of the ascents up to Skyline from here. However, as I kept searching for better ways up the ridge, I eventually discovered Crystal Springs Road in San Mateo and, well, that's been the gateway to everything else I've ridden since then (not counting the commute). My rides each extended on the ones before, taking climbs that I knew I was capable of and had done a few times, and adding on an extension that seemed within my abilities.

The latest iteration of this was my first-ever ride to Pescadero. I'm not sure when the idea first popped into my head, but there's a nice inevitability to it. Pescadero is my favorite place on the San Mateo coast, a small hamlet with an absurdly strong and broad food lineup: world-famous olallieberry pie and cream of artichoke soup at Duarte's Tavern; California's best fish tacos (per the New York Times) at the local gas station (!); and two bakery/groceries that put out great food. Keep in mind, all of this is in a single block that, to the untrained eye, is the entirety of Pescadero. Most times that I have visitors out here, we're able to work a trip to Pescadero in at some point, and despite a dozen journeys by now I've never gotten sick of it.

I love destinations, and there seemed to be more sense in riding to Pescadero than in the more-or-less arbitrary intersection of Old La Honda and 84. From my recent riding, I knew I'd be able to make it to Pescadero - the challenge is getting over the range, which I've done before, and from then on it's primarily downhill. My only concern was getting back home again. Could I climb from sea level to the mountaintop twice in one day?

I poked around a bit online and found some good resources from people who'd previously done the ride, and often had amusing stories to go with it. I played around with Google Maps and tried to visualize the trek. Given the destination, what would be the easiest way to do a first ride there? I'd initially assumed that it would make the most sense to cross over Skyline on Old La Honda, go down to Pescadero, and then return the way I came; the OLH summit is only about 1700 feet above sea level, while Kings Mountain summit is well over 2000 feet, so my net elevation gain would be lower. However, while studying the elevation profiles on one of the web sites, I saw that the descent from Old La Honda actually contained two noticeable peaks. Returning back up Pescadero Road would require climbing, then descending, then climbing again (repeated a few times). In contrast, the ascent I was worried about, Tunitas Creek, was a straight climb - that sounds like a bad thing, but I tend to be attracted to those, since I don't feel like I'm "wasting" a climb by recovering from a descent.

Given that all of the routes I'd seen did it as a loop, and adding the fact that I do love loops, I nervously decided to give it a go. And so, the morning of, I rode out at 7:30 in the morning. I had slightly modified my equipment. In addition to my standard water bottle, water refill, energy bars, spare tube, and tire tools, I also tossed in my Kryptonite lock, only because I couldn't clearly remember what kind of bike facilities were in Pescadero. I knew that I was a bit short on food, but that was the whole point - in Pescadero, I'd get GOOD food, FRESH food, and then I'd eat it!

I rode normally into Woodside, continuing on Canada past Roberts Market. I kept going straight on Mountain Home Road. This is the reverse direction of one of the loops I enjoy doing; I hadn't done the ascent before, but it went well, it has a nice reasonable grade and light traffic. I took this road all the way to the end, where I turned left on Portola, then right on... well, technically, I guess Portola, but I think of it as Sand Hill Road. I was now on uncharted territory. This section of the road didn't have the wide-open expanses of the lower part of Sand Hill, but it's just as bright and wide, which is nice. (Woodside really is a great town to ride in, if for no other reason than the strong variety of environments you get to ride through.) Soon I came to Old La Honda and started climbing.

I was a bit surprised at how much auto traffic was on this road. Granted, it wasn't much - maybe a half-dozen cars over the half-hour or so it took me to ascend - but that far outpaces the total of two cars that I've seen in the six or so times I've ridden the other side of OLH. Fortunately, everyone's pretty careful and calm. You have to be - the road is barely one lane wide. After I got farther up, I started really enjoying the atmosphere. There are more homes on this side than on the ocean side, and some folks were out walking their dogs. Plus, I had finally broken through the clouds and fog, and was enjoying my first direct sunlight of the day. Oh, and this is also where I stopped for my first break. I usually force myself to stop, eat something, and have a drink at regular intervals, starting at about 90 minutes and then repeating every hour. On my standard long trip my first break is usually at the Country Store at Kings Mountain and Tripp; for this, there was an entrance to a youth camp a little ways up from the start of OLH.

The climb was challenging, but probably easier than Kings Mountain. Which, again, makes sense, as it's several hundred feet shorter. At the top I stopped to sip some water and check my stats. I'd gone almost exactly 25 miles from home, in a bit under 2 hours. Not too bad! I crossed Skyline, and did the descent, still in sunshine.

At 84, I took a breath - this was my last chance to turn around and stick to a challenge I knew I could handle. Instead, I turned left, and started spinning down 84. This was a great descent - very fast, but much less curvy than the other side of 84, so I had a better feeling of control. I got passed a few times by both cyclists and cars, but for the most part it was quiet. At one point I ran into construction, where they close down one lane and use signals to control the other lane, and was delighted to finally have an opportunity to press a pedestrian crossing button to ride my bike through.

It took longer than I expected to reach La Honda, which seems to have some nice spots for refueling. I kept going farther and farther down. It was still sunny, but impressive cloud banks farther west were hiding the ocean from me. Still, I was loving the scenery - it's so green!

I finally reached Pescadero Road. It isn't very clearly marked, but there are so few intersections that it isn't hard to figure out what it is. I turned left, then went through a series of climbs and short descents. Finally, after cresting the last peak, I was ready for the race down that awaited me. The auto traffic had thinned out again, and there weren't many turns for me to worry about, just an exhilarating fast-but-not-scary zoom down to the ocean, under the bright morning sun.

I started passing farm houses and cottages as I approached the Pescadero city limits, including one very striking pink-accented home. I eventually re-entered cloud cover as I got near the coast, but there wasn't any fog this low. After riding past the Phipps Farm, I scooted over to North Road for the approach into town. I hadn't previously seen this part of Pescadero, and it was quite nice; this seems to be where everyone actually lives, and it's where some of the more town-oriented businesses are (nurseries and dairies and such). North drops you out on Stage Road just north of the "downtown" block, above the businesses and below the church.

I turned left and pedaled a few yards to Archangeli Grocery Store, where some cyclists were just leaving. I rode out to the back of the store, where there's a very nice picnic area by a creek. I propped my bike up against the fence, then walked (some might say "hobbled") into the store. I'd had in mind a banana and a pastry; they didn't have bananas, but I did pick up a ripe peach and two pastries: a raspberry croissant and a bear claw. (Ever since seeing the last season of Archer, I've been semi-obsessed with bear claws, but rarely have a sufficient reason to indulge. This was one occasion to do so.) I went back, sat at a picnic table, and devoured the peach and half of the croissant. I rarely get hungry during rides, so I wasn't able to finish it, but I knew that I'd be happy for more later, so I wrapped up the bag and stashed it away. I made use of the port-a-potty that they have there - that may not sound exciting, but on these roads, you can ride a LONG time without seeing anything that looks like an opportunity for relief.

I checked my statistics. I had ridden about 45 miles in a bit under three and a half hours. This immensely cheered me - when I'd laid out the route in Google Maps' cycling layer, it had predicted almost five and a half hours, which had seemed long to me but which I had been prepared for. The longer time would have meant getting home sometime around six-thirty - still within the span of daylight, but a really massive commitment. Now, I was on track for something much more reasonable. (I'm not totally sure how Google calculates their cycling times, but it's certainly got to be more challenging than auto times; you can usually assume that people are driving more or less the speed limit on a car, but on a bike, you have a huge range from casual riders on mountain bikes, through serious wannabe racers. Plus, add in extreme elevation gain or loss, and I can imagine their algorithm just throwing up its hands and saying, "I dunno, that seems hard!")

This was my last chance to follow my original plan of retracing my steps up Old La Honda, but by now I was feeling good about this new route, so I pushed onward. As one of the website writers had put it, "Sure, you could ride along Highway One, but why?" This next stretch was along Stage Road, which was just amazing - even with the heavy cloud cover, it was very pretty. This is definitely agricultural land, and I kept seeing snatches of bucolic scenes: a shepherd shearing a flock of sheep, while an Australian Shepherd lay with its head between its paws and watched; cattle grazing in a pasture; fields of hay and other crops.

This section is somewhat hilly; definitely not as severe as the stretches over the mountain, but with some nicely steep climbs. I don't think I passed a single car on the whole ride up to San Gregorio, just a bunch of bicyclists and one motorcycle.

In San Gregorio, I crossed Highway 84 and saw yet another cyclist gathering spot, a grocery store with a dozen or more riders clustered around outside. I kept heading north, and did one final climb before merging into Highway One.

I often drive on Highway One, and always see at least a couple of cyclists. My reactions range from "That looks exciting" to "That looks incredibly dangerous," more often trending towards the latter. However, this is one of the sections of the coast with a nice wide shoulder; even though traffic is doing 55, there's enough separation that it doesn't feel oppressive. Other than one or two parts where trees were overgrowing into the shoulder, I could mostly just relax and go. As a nice bonus, this stretch is entirely downhill, at a good grade (steep enough that you can go fast, but not so steep that pedaling does nothing).

I crossed a bridge, and then immediately turned onto Tunitas Creek - this is another intersection that isn't incredibly well marked, but where it's still fairly obvious. From my earlier research, I knew vaguely what to expect: a flat first third, followed by a very steep and long middle third, followed by an easy final third. The flat portion goes past some farms and houses which all looked quite nice; there was even one farm with a stand that was advertising fresh fruit, drinks, and picnicking. That looked like another nice cycling stop. I kept going inland, eventually leaving the clouds and rejoining the sunshine. It was coming up on 4:30 ride time, so I stopped and devoured the remaining half of my raspberry croissant.

The signs of habitation thinned out, the road met the creek, and the climb started in earnest. It was quite challenging; I think it's as steep as Kings Mountain Road, but since it's much later in the ride I had a bit less energy, plus it goes on for longer. This only makes sense; Kings Mountain Road starts after I've already been climbing for about 90 minutes, gradually working my way up from sea level, eventually reaching 2100 feet. Now, I was reaching that same elevation, but this time starting from sea level. That meant... well, a whole lotta climbing.

That said, other than the steepness it was about as good a road as I could ask for. The page I'd seen online had commented on how long it's been since the road was paved, but the surface seemed fine to me, without real noticeable cracks or potholes. The presence of the creek lent a nice soothing noise and environment. Very few cars were driving along the road. And, the heavy forest was providing some welcome shade now that I was entering the hottest part of the day.

My main goal was simply to make it to the top of the mountain in one go. I didn't care how long it took, and I didn't mind that I'd be in my very lowest gear for pretty much the whole way; I just didn't want to walk my bike or take a break. I felt like pooping out at a few points, but was pretty good at settling into a rhythm - to the untrained ear it might sound like gasping for air, but I was steadily performing and just letting my body go on auto-pilot. Mentally, I was either counting out numbers - "One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand..." - or else running through snatches of music in my head; this day's bizarre collection of earworms included "A Prayer for England," the inane "Pururin" theme song from "Welcome to the NHK", and (briefly) Toad the Wet Sprocket's "Walk on the Ocean."

Eventually, I realized that I wasn't working as hard as I needed to before. It was still mostly uphill, but I did get one or two rare flat or downhill stretches, and even the climbs were much more reasonable. I was also getting passed much more often, presumably by riders who had been less damaged by the climbs and could switch their turbo back on. I contentedly pedaled along, happy in the thought that I would accomplish my goal.

Altogether, the climbing portion took me about an hour. I finally emerged at the intersection of Tunitas Creek, Skyline, and Kings Mountain Road. I always see at least one or two groups of cyclists clustered around here when I ascend from Kings Mountain, and I could tell better than ever before why: it's a good stop after Kings Mountain, and a necessary stop after Tunitas Creek. I found a shady spot, got out my bag, and devoured half of my bear claw. Mmmm. Rawr! Bear claws!

I'd felt my phone buzzing a few minutes from the peak, which surprised me, since I had turned it off before starting my ride. (Obviously, my route takes me through a lot of places with poor or no cell signal, which eats up the battery. I always bring along my phone, but keep it turned off so it'll have juice if I need to use it.) I guess the jostling must have powered it on. Anyways, I read texts from my brother and sister (sis had just landed in San Diego at the start of a half-week trip), replied to her, and packed my stuff back up. I was more than halfway done with the trip, and from here on out, it would MOSTLY be downhill.

The first hill to go down: Kings Mountain. This was a total blast. I've climbed up it quite a few times over the last several months, and it's always the most challenging climb of a ride. I see lots of other riders struggling up, and a few lucky ones sprinting down, going by in a flash. It felt great to be a flasher for a change. It's steep, and fast, and curvy, and woodsy, and all in all just a great time.

On the way down, I tried to decide whether I should return back to Woodside so I could stop at Roberts Market and pick up some more supplies, primarily something like gatorade and maybe a banana. I decided that I'd be fine - I had a full water bottle left, and half a pastry, plus an emergency Clif Bar. So I continued on my way, doing the reverse of my normal ride: down to the bottom of Kings Mountain, past Tripp and the Woodside Country Store. I had to keep my eye open for Albion; I'm used to coming out of it, but wasn't used to approaching from this perspective. I managed to spy it, turned left, and worked my way back along Manuella and Olive Hill. It was fascinating to do the ride from this direction, and it felt like I was seeing totally different scenery. This is basically a cutoff to the standard Canada - Woodside intersection that most people take; it's quieter, goes by some really pretty estates, and lets you avoid two stop signs and the attendant Woodside cops.

After a left turn on Canada, I was back on autopilot for the rest of the ride back; even the last couple of climbs I need to do (Ralston Bike Trail, Crystal Springs, and the last mile of Sawyer Camp) breezed by. I reached the southern entrance to Sawyer Camp right around 6:30 riding time and polished off the rest of my bear claw. By the time I made it home, I'd traveled 89.28 miles in 7:17 riding time; counting all my stops, the total clock time was almost exactly eight hours. I can't even begin to guess how much total climbing there was... but it must be many, many thousands of feet. The ride was tiring, thrilling, exhilarating. I'm sure I won't forget it. I can hardly wait to go again.

3000

I just rolled over 3000 miles on my cyclocomputer's odometer. As far as milestones go, that's one of the more meaningless ones I have. It's less than the number of miles I've put in since I started cycling again as an adult. It's more than the number of miles ridden since I started working in San Francisco, when my riding habits changed drastically (going from a 7.5-mile commute for about 10 months a year to a 1.2-mile commute for about 12 months a year). It's far more than the miles I've ridden since I moved closer to the city, when my riding habits changed drastically yet again (starting a commute of a bit over 17 miles, which I'll probably only be able to do for about 6 months or so of the year; plus scattered weekend rides for most dry weekends throughout the year). I didn't think to make a record of any of those significant milestones, so all that the 3000 means is the number of miles I've ridden since my previous bike was stolen in December 2007.

I'm loving the rides, though. The possibility of a nicely long cycling commute was in the back of my mind while I was looking for my new place; I wasn't sure if I'd pursue it, but wanted to be close enough to the city for it to be an option. After I moved in in late September, the days were short enough that I didn't want to risk pedaling on unfamiliar roads, so I just did the public transit thing. My only bike outings during the winter months were on weekends. For a while, I was pursuing the dream of riding up to the top of Sweeney Ridge, where I would lock up my bike and then switch to foot for a short downhill hike to Mori Point. It was a good plan with just one flaw: the hills here are insanely steep, and I had practically no experience riding up hills. (I did occasionally ride up to Guadalupe Reservoir from my place in San Jose, but I always pooped out when I tried to go farther up Hicks to Mt. Umunhum.) I played around with Google Maps' new Bicycling layer to try and find better grades, and experimented with a variety of approaches. Eventually, I found an approach that mostly worked, and let me get almost halfway up Sneath Lane Trail before I had to call it quits.

I then moved on to a more realistic goal: riding south instead of north. In my various searches I've come across a variety of really useful local resources, including the aforementioned Google Maps, but also SFBC's own SF Bike Mapper (which performs a similar function but has the advantage of local knowledge, and adds the ability to customize routes based on tolerance for hills); official bike maps from San Mateo County and several cities; and several local riders' groups. Hands-down, the best resource I've found yet for recreational rides is Velo Girls. They have a large collection of great, clearly described rides, which are sorted by distance and difficulty. With any other resource, I never know before going whether the route will be feasible, but with Velo Girls, it's always been great.

Over a couple of months, I've been slowly increasing the size of my loops for Saturday morning rides. (I'm not out every week, but it's increasingly taking the place of my traditional Saturday morning hikes - more on that later.) The first good, successful ride I had was a route that had me head south through Burlingame along flat roads (mostly on or around California); then take a nicely graded climb up Crystal Springs Road through Hillsborough; then a short steep climb up the top of Crystal Springs to the intersection with Skyline (35), where I pick up the Sawyer Camp Trail. This is a very pleasant paved multi-use trail with runners, walkers, and occasional cyclists; it runs for exactly six miles, mostly along two very pretty reservoirs, with no intersections. After exiting at the north end, I can take my revenge on the steep hills as I make my way back down home.

I did that loop for a few times, and each attempt felt great. I next extended it with another Velo Girls route through Woodside. This provided my first exposure to Canada Road, which is legendary among local cyclists as one of the best possible roads in the area. The pavement is excellent; it's set in an inner valley high up the Santa Cruz range, so even though it's close to 280 you rarely see or hear the traffic; the route passes through pleasant forest and near lower Crystal Springs Reservoir; you can ride for about six miles without hitting a single stop sign or traffic light; and perhaps best of all, it's completely closed to auto traffic on Sunday, and gets very little auto traffic on Saturday (mostly SUVs with loaded bike racks). Plus, since Canada connects Woodside with Skyline, it's a great connector for most longer rides.

Now, cyclists in the area are currently undergoing a bit of a purgatory. A multi-year construction project is closing a section of Skyline, which is how most recreational riders prefer to go up and down the peninsula. For cars, this closure isn't a big deal; they just head a little east and pick up 280. For cyclists, though, they need to ride (steeply) down Crystal Springs; then (steeply) up Polhemus; them (steeply) both down AND up a bike path with horrible pavement that takes them over 92 to Canada. There's been some grumbling online - many road riders would be much happier if they could just get on 280 and ride on the shoulder, like they currently do between Trousdale and Millbrae; and at a minimum, they really should have repaved that awful cracked pavement - but most people have adjusted.

Anyways. My next, longer journeys started going through Canada and then hitting Woodside. Woodside is also a mecca for cyclists, but not everyone is pleased with that; unlike Canada, there are people and cars in Woodside, and there's periodic tension over how people are using the roads. The most visible manifestation of this is Woodside police's aggressive ticketing of cyclists who fail to observe traffic signs. I'm actually fine with this - as the only cyclist in San Francisco who stops at stop signs, I'm hoping that it encourages more riders to follow the rules of the road - but it does sour some of what could be a great cycling atmosphere.

The actual riding in Woodside is great, though. My first rides did a loop up a short part of Kings Mountain, then over Tripp and back down on Woodside. As I did more trips, I eventually stretched that out to a (Velo Girls-directed) double loop: up Mountain Home, over on Tripp, pick up Woodside uphill, left on Portola, down Mountain Home to downtown Woodside, then Woodside and Whiskey Hill east out of town, a nice climb up Sand Hill Road, pick up Portola, then descent on Woodside back to downtown again before taking Canada back out of town. For all these loops, I retrace my steps to Crystal Springs, then pick up Sawyer Camp for a pleasant and scenic end to my ride.

One of the resources I'd found while looking up local bike routes is the Tour de Peninsula, an annual fundraiser ride. I haven't ridden it before, but decided I wanted to try it this year. They have a set of ride lengths that you can choose from, ranging from a 20-mile route that's mostly in the flatlands, all the way up to a metric century with epic climbs. I want to see if I can do that metric century. They have two variations on that: the real one, and a 50-mile shortcut version that they call "Simon Says". Well, on my last two rides, I've been trying the Simon Says route. It's tough, definitely the toughest ride I've taken yet, but I'm very pleased to have finished it intact both times. Since I start from farther north, and do an extra loop through Woodside, it ends up being a bit over 60 miles and (according to Google My Tracks) about 6000 feet of climbing. Most of that comes from climbing ALL the way to the top of Kings Mountain Road, all the way to Skyline. It's... difficult. I've been in my lowest gear both times, and have gotten used to more experienced cyclists passing me. Once I get to Skyline, though... well, there's a bit more climbing, but THEN you get to go through this amazing, incredibly fast descent. I rarely take the lane, but I feel totally comfortable doing so here, since I'm usually going over 30. There are just enough flat portions for me to be able to gape at the awesome scenery: it's one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay that I've seen yet, and I feel like I've earned it.

One downside of riding up that high is the weather. On all of my rides, I always check the weather report before leaving home, both at my origin and destination. I abort if there's a reasonable risk of precipitation. For these rides, I always look up Woodside, and see that the weather's supposed to be awesome. Well, yeah, it IS awesome in downtown Woodside, but it's a whole different story when you're 2300 feet up at the peak. On my first outing I actually ran into some patches of rain (!) near the top. On my SECOND outing, it was raining CONSTANTLY from about a mile before the peak, through about half of Skyline. I wasn't exactly prepared for that, although it all worked out fine - when you're riding hard, shorts are fine even when it's chilly out.

Anyways: the descent on Skyline takes you to 84 and Alice's Restaurant, a Woodside institution cum motorcycle hangout. The metric century route has you stick on 35, then descend down Old La Honda Road back to 84, which you climb again back to Skyline. I'm not quite that confident yet, so I've been taking the shortcut here, just cutting out that loop and instead jumping on the (long, steep, fast, fun) descent down 84. Once I feel better about this route, I'll add in the loop. It's fun to do a dry run of an event before you participate, ja?

So, that's been my recreational riding. On the, uh, business front, an unusually wet spring had delayed my planned switch from transit to cycling, but I'm finally in the saddle and riding nearly every day for my commute. I'd spent a few Saturdays over the winter experimenting with a few possibilities for the ride, and have done some minor tweaking in the last month or so too. I'm pretty happy with where I've ended up.

The very first ride I tried was mostly based on a Google Maps bicycling direction suggestion, and it was... not great. It had me riding through downtown San Bruno and South San Francisco, mostly on Airport Boulevard. This is exactly the sort of thing that a computer algorithm would think is a GREAT idea: Airport Boulevard has a bike lane! We like bike lanes, right? And it's a direct route to the city! What's not to like?

Well... I went on an early Saturday morning for my test ride, so it wasn't too bad, but I wouldn't dream of riding this in rush hour. Traffic is signed at 35 miles an hour, but moves faster. Worst of all, though, is that traffic from the 101 freeway merges onto the road - as in a normal freeway merge, not a signaled intersection. Now, given that they are merging traffic from the right, through a bike lane, into the main flow of traffic, they designed this as well as they could. The bike lane is painted a separate color (I think red), and is visibly dashed at the point where it crosses the incoming traffic, plus I'm sure there's signage on the ramp. Still, though... that's just a bad situation.

Oddly enough, I found my salvation from Google's misdirection from, well, Google. sf2g.com is another nifty resource, created by Googlers who live in the Mission and ride their bikes down to work in Mountain View. Their route doesn't exactly work for me, since I start out on the wrong side of 101, but it was a great inspiration for a more Bay-centric approach to the route. I took a look at their map, then spent some time in Google Maps manually adjusting the bike route to what I wanted. I've come to think that this is the best way to use the bicycling directions tool. For any decently long ride, they never come up with what I would do, but they still have good data and some generally good algorithms, so with a bit of tweaking ("No, don't go on this road, use this other road instead"), I can build something that I'm happy with.

So, that made me far more confident about making this thing actually work. Once I got over to east of 101, stuff just fell into place. I ended up sticking with the Class 1 trails that follow the contours of the Bay, rather than the canonical sf2b Bayway, which prefers to take city streets like Gateway. Their way is faster and shorter; mine is much more pleasant and completely avoids traffic lights. This gets me through north San Bruno, all of South San Francisco, and across the Brisbane border. From here, a set of three pretty good roads take me into the city proper. Sierra Point Parkway has a great, wide shoulder; and, since it's only a few feet away from 101 and has absolutely no homes, businesses, or services, it gets very little traffic. Lagoon is a nice and short connector. Tunnel Avenue has no shoulder and could stand to be repaved, but since it's pretty much the only way in or out of the eastern half of San Francisco when riding a bike, drivers are very accustomed to dealing with us.

The last nut to crack was how to get to the office from the border. San Francisco, while politically a cycling-friendly city, will always present challenges from its geography: lots of hills, with few flat stretches, many of which have already been claimed for other purposes. I figured out that once I got north of Cesar Chavez, the last few miles to the office were easy; it was just that stretch in the southeast quadrant of the city that I had to deal with. My first attempt took Bay Shore Boulevard almost all the way in. That fell into the category of "This wasn't TOO scary on this Saturday Morning, but I do not want to do this in real traffic." I tried Third Street, which has a bike lane, but also way too much traffic, too many signals, too many driveways, and too many parallel parking cars merging in and out. Oh, and Muni loves hanging out on top of the bike lane, too. I then took a shot at SF Bike Mapper's suggestion for a less hilly route, which followed a convoluted series of turns around Candlestick Park and through Hunter's Point. I was surprised to see that they did, in fact, find a route with almost no climbing at all; however, I felt nervous about including that much Hunter's Point in a daily route, plus it went so far east that it added some significant extra time to the trip.

What I've settled on now is another slightly complicated but fundamentally good route. After emerging from Tunnel, I merge onto Bay Shore Boulevard but only follow it to the first light. Here, I cross Bay Shore with a walk signal, and then - drum roll please - carry my bike UP A FLIGHT OF STAIRS (have I mentioned lately that I LOVE San Francisco?) to the top of the hill on San Bruno Avenue. From here, it's pretty much all downhill to my office, which is great. There are a few places where you can cut over from San Bruno Avenue to Bay Shore; I've come to prefer Bacon as my crossing point for the northbound commute. I stick on Bay Shore for just a bit longer (eating my lane for a few signals), then turn right on Industrial, and follow a set of side streets to roughly parallel Bay Shore northward to Cesar Chavez. Here, a pedestrian/bicyclist path weaves you through the Cesar Chavez / Bay Shore / Potrero / 101 interchange madness, eventually depositing you safely on the north side. From here, well, you can do whatever you want. Personally, I take a pleasant slow ride up Hampshire (again, I'm the only cyclist in San Francisco who stops at stop signs) to 17th Street, which I take over to Folsom, which takes me to my office.

The return trip is just a little different, due to the vagaries of one-way streets. Here, I take Kansas down to 17th for the trip back south. Other than that, it's exactly the same as the route up, except that I usually wait until Paul Avenue to return from Bay Shore back to San Bruno Avenue. Oh, and I ride San Bruno Avenue all the way down to Bay Shore instead of taking the stairs. You need to press the crossing light button to get across Bay Shore from this intersection, no left turns are allowed.

That's the route I've been riding for the last few months, at least when it's dry out, and I've been happy with it. I've made a few small tweaks along the way from the original. I've found a few spots along the bayside trail where I can cut a loop short by crossing a road. I've also discovered an un-mapped spur trail that lets you bypass the 380/101 ramps near the airport. Other than that, I don't see a whole lot of room for improvement.

I did experiment once with a Skyline-based commute home. This wouldn't work for the trip in to work, but the basic idea would be to exit the city to the southwest, pick up 35, and ride that back up to my town, followed by a fun fast descent home. I'd been surprised to note that the route, even though it swings much farther west than my current route swings east, would only add a few miles to the total distance. In the end, though, it wasn't worth adding to my rotation. It takes a LONG time to work your way through San Francisco and Daly City using surface streets, and once you do get on 35, you're only on it for a few miles before exiting. I'll stick to the bay for my weekdays and save the hills for the weekend.

It has been kind of fun to note the ways my environment affects my riding. I don't think I'm getting any faster or stronger at riding, but I do notice significant differences in my performance from day to day, which is mostly driven by the wind. It seems like, at least at this time of year, the morning usually has gentle winds out of the north, so I'm mostly riding into the wind for that leg but it usually isn't strong enough to affect me. By the time I head home, the wind has shifted to the west, and usually has gotten much stronger. Since it hits me crosswise, it doesn't have a huge impact on most of my journey, but there are a few sections where I am riding due west or due east, and I definitely feel it on those days! I try to remind myself, when I'm straining hard and only managing 10 mph, that I get bonus points for riding into 30 mph winds.

So, yeah, I'm riding a lot and loving it. It's really easy to do right now, at the peak of summer, when the days are incredibly long: even if I get caught late at work, I still can usually make it home in daylight. If I'm able to keep up my cycling, it'll be interesting to see if and how it continues in the fall. I'd like to do something similar to what I did at Rocket Mobile, where I adjusted my work schedule to match the day; there, I would often leave home around 6, start work around 7, and leave around 4, which let me ride in decent light even in December. The main hitch now is that my rides are quite a bit longer; on the days with the worst wind, it takes me about 1:20 or so of riding time, and around 1:30 of clock time, as opposed to the 35-40 minutes it took me at Rocket. So, I may try to supplement shorter days at work with a few hours of working from home before or after; or I may switch to just riding in one direction, and taking transit in the other. (And, of course, once the rain starts again this all becomes moot, as I'll happily give up my bike whenever it's wet out.)

I've also been kicking around the perennial question of whether or not to upgrade my bike. I've been extremely happy with my Sirrus, and it's pretty perfect for my commute ride, which combines some nice long stretches of pavement with some bumpy city streets. But, now that I've started doing more and longer weekend rides, I'm finding that my hands get pretty numb after I've been riding for a few hours. I'm pretty sure that this is at least partly of my upright handlebars. I love them for city riding, and they're fine for everything else, but it does mean that I'm maintaining the exact same posture for pretty much the entire ride, regardless of what I'm doing: arms straight out, tilted down, hands wrapped around bars. I think doing dropped handlebars might help with that; but, I'm a bit concerned that I'd be sacrificing some ride comfort, which might take away from the advantage of the bars. Plus, it seems a bit silly to spend a lot of money on a really fast bike, when I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in racing, and don't even really care about how fast I go (I keep track, but just because I'm a data nerd, not out of any sort of competitiveness). And I don't think I could justify having a "commute bike" for the week and a road bike for the weekend. Eh. We'll see how it goes.

Oh, yeah, and back to that 3000: for the record, my odometer rolled over as I was approaching Belle Aire Road from S Airport Boulevard on my ride in to work on Tuesday, June 14th, 2011. A meaningless milestone, but since I've been so bad at keeping track of milestones, at least it'll give me one data point to track. Here's looking forward to 4000!

Bike to Work!

A friendly reminder to anyone living in the San Francisco Bay Area: Tomorrow is Bike to Work Day!  If you're in San Francisco, check the map to find an energizer station (= free food, drinks, and goodies) for your morning and/or evening commute.  If you'd like to ride but feel intimidated, try a commuter convoy!  There's strength and confidence in numbers, and you can have a lot of fun riding with a group of various skill levels.  There's a similar program in Silicon Valley, with Energizer Stations from Morgan Hill to Pacifica.  There are also several bike-from-work after-parties floating around.  If you just ride one day this year, tomorrow would be a great day to try it!

Re cycling

My family is pretty big on traditions.  We like them so much, we're very open to creating new ones.  For example, after moving to Illinois, we started the tradition of taking a family hike on Thanksgiving before dinner.  We recently modified a Minnesota-era tradition of listening to Black Nativity and eating appetizers on Christmas Eve with a modernized version that keeps Black Nativity, nixes the appetizers, and includes a modicum of effort from the kids.  My personal attitude is that, if something happens twice, and is good both times, then it's worth making a tradition out of it.

That being said, I'm pleased to say that 2009 was the second entry in my dad's traditional visit to watch the Tour of California.  As previously noted in these pages, I've enjoyed following the Tour since it started, but my pleasure has multiplied since getting the opportunity to share it.  It's always great to spend time with Dad, and he's also more knowledgeable about professional racing than I am, so I win on both the familial and the sporting ends of that connection. 

I think we both managed to be more relaxed about it this time around than we were last year.  Having done it once, we both had a better idea of what to expect (even though they change the route every year, the overall feel stays the same), plus I think there was less pressure now to do everything just right.  In much the same way that later family trips to Florida were less packed than the first one, we could just relax and enjoy it.

Not to say that there wasn't planning!  I come from a very research-oriented gene pool, so we did spend some time tossing ideas back and forth and mapping out a game plan for the trip.  I tend to be happiest when I have a framework to play inside of, ideally with a bit of adaptability to respond to unexpected opportunities or obstacles.

Dad had originally planned to arrive on Thursday, but scheduling forces and Southwest fare changes prompted an eventual rescheduling to Friday.  Which is just as well... I'll never encourage someone to NOT spend a day in California, but this ended up being a rare (especially for this drought-ridden year) rainy week, and most of the days were spent under water.  Good news for us natives, bad news for visitors.

So, the arrival on Friday happened smoothly.  All connections at SFO and BART were carried out properly, and before long he was walking down the lovely (SARCASM ALERT) streets of SOMA towards my current place of employment.  I got to show him around our super sweet office, then we had a very tasty and pleasant lunch at AK Subs.  That ended up being even more fun than I had thought, just because it was nice to show off the space where we generally order lunch from.  It's one thing to see what your son's experience is like; it's another to taste it.

Dad explored the city on foot for the rest of the day.  Amazingly, he had fit everything for his 5-day visit into a single backpack, and stubbornly insisted on carrying it.  We briefly went over some potential outings, and I went back to being a software engineer while he took the grand tour.  I later learned that he got a great hike in, walking through SOMA up to the Bay, along the Embarcadero, into Chinatown, then down past Union Square and back up to the Ferry Building before dropping down into the train station.  We touched base there and headed home, ending up in the same car as Truc, and eventually landed in my apartment at my standard arrival time of around 7:30 PM.

First night's dinner was leftovers.  I cooked up some brown rice, then over that served some nuked New Mexico pork chili.  On the side we had some leftover cheesy broccoli and rice casserole, as well as pomelo.  This was his first time eating it.  Pomelo is kind of entertaining to eat... it takes much more effort than the typical fruit.  And I always enjoy exposing people to new fruit.

Saturday was the first race day.  I actually hadn't made this connection before, but Dad correctly pointed out that this is the first year that the Tour has started on a Saturday; previously, the first day has always been Sunday.  I had initially been mildly irate to hear that Sacramento was hosting the Prologue, which in the previous three years has belonged to a Bay Area city.  Once I calmed down, though, I realized that there was nothing wrong with that at all.  There's a train line -the Capitol Corridor - that provides good service between San Jose and Sacramento, so I wouldn't need to make that deity-forsaken drive.  Plus, Sacramento is only truly horrible during the summer.  And who knew when Dad (or, for that matter, I) would be back to Sacramento again?  All in all, it was a perfectly fine venue to kick things off.

That morning we had muesli with sliced almonds, raisins, and mangoes.  We drove up to Diridon, hung around outside our train for five or ten minutes, then got on when the doors open.  We swiftly seized the best spot.  Hundreds of commuting hours have primed me to swiftly and decisively claim what I want: a seat on the top car, far away from the engine, facing in the direction of travel.  We got it in spades.

The train ride itself is fairly long, about three hours in both directions.  I am amazed to think that some people actually commute between Sacramento and San Jose.  Still, I was more than happy to do it... we both brought books, Dad had an iPod and a crossword book, I had my MacBook.  It didn't take much longer than the drive would have, and certainly was far more pleasant.

Upon arriving in Sacramento, we ambled down through the Westfield Mall and onto the race route.  As with the Prologue in Palo Alto last year, we walked along the entire race route before it started, scouting out lunch locations (verdict: there are not many) and just getting the feel of the route.  We eventually grabbed some turkey sandwiches from a little window-front cafe after I threw a mini temper tantrum.  Then we plopped down on the curb and awaited the race.

Oh, and did I mention it was cold?

It was cold.

REALLY cold.

I fully admit that I've become a wimp during my time in California, but even the Chicagoan by my side was having trouble.  The temperature itself wasn't that bad, and when the sun shone it actually felt kind of nice.  The sun didn't often shine, though.  What we DID get plenty of was wind.  We'd stumbled across a Severe Weather Advisory the night before, warning that a storm system from Alaska would be producing winds with gusts from 40-80 MPH.  Still, we'd both focused on the raw temperature numbers and failed to plan accordingly.  It wasn't actually painful, but we were both kicking ourselves for leaving some warmer gear behind.

My self-pity was interrupted almost precisely once every 60 seconds, though, when a racer went by.  In a major improvement over last year's prologue, this time the motorcycle rider preceding each of the time-trial racers was displaying that racer's name on their windscreen.  In each of the previous three years, it's been almost impossible to know who you're watching at any given time unless you're standing by the start or finish line where the announcers are.  This really brought everyone along the entire race track into the day, and led to a lot more excitement and cheering.

Speaking of which, I think that Tour of California fans just may be the best fans of any sport.  I know everyone says that about their favorite event, but seriously!  Most people are pretty well educated about what's going on, and those who don't are eager to learn.  Everyone was super nice, from the volunteer marshals to the people taking pictures to the hard-core race fans to folks out with their kids.  Even in the chilly weather - social death to sun-soaked Californians - people were lining the streets as far as I could see in all directions.  And people cheer for everyone... the least-known racer can't go by without receiving claps, cheers, cowbells, and much love. 

For the week or so prior, every piece of material advertising the Tour boldly proclaimed LANCE ARMSTRONG RETURNS!  Lance is bar none the biggest thing to ever happen to American cycling, so of course it makes sense that they would tie their fortunes to his.  There was a lot of excitement around Lance, and his foundation was heavily promoted... both officially, through people carrying printed signs and fans, and in a guerrilla manner, with people scrawling yellow chalk messages for LIVESTRONG.

When Lance eventually came by, near the end of the program, he received probably the largest cheers of the day.  Not only that, he had absolutely the largest entourage of the day.  Most racers had a single support car behind them, with some meriting a mobile camera or a race official on motorcycle.  (Team OUCH, impressively, rode solo.)  Lance had a good five or six vehicles trailing in his wake, which was simultaneously amusing and bemusing.

I had been curious what kind of reception Floyd Landis would receive - he was really beloved in the previous Tour, but it's entirely accurate to describe his current state as "disgraced."  Either most folks didn't follow the news, or they didn't care: he got ecstatic cheers as well, and I didn't hear a single "boo".

Last of the group, but certainly not least, came Levi Leipheimer, triumphantly wearing jersey #1.  Year after year, Levi has been the favorite racer in the Tour.  He seemed to explode from out of nowhere in the first year, and clearly pours his all into it.  He's also a local boy, which people certainly notice and appreciate.  Plus he's just a really classy-seeming guy.  After the Astana debacle, it was wonderful to see him back in a country which loved and respected him.

We swung by the reviewing stand after the race finished.  We couldn't figure out how to get in front of the stage, but got quite close on the side, and so witnessed Governor Schwarzenegger.  He bestowed awards upon the victors, and gave a really passionate and totally incomprehensible speech about California.  I think he's in favor of it.

From there, the evening wound down pleasantly and calmly.  We returned to the Sacramento Amtrak station with plenty of time to spare, and enjoyed the heated benches in their very nice waiting room, home of the World's Slowest Free Wi-Fi.  Then, a mere three hours later, we were back in San Jose!

Sunday marked the first full stage of the Tour.  Although the route has changed from previous years, it still ends in Santa Rosa, which is Levi Leipheimer's home town and also home to arguably the most enthusiastic race enthusiasts anywhere.  We knew before heading up that it would be an even worse day for weather: the cold would not lift, and we would get plenty of rain as well.  We drove up 880 in an almost constant downpour, which became torrential once we reached the north bay.

An advantage of tradition: we had spent nearly an hour the previous year trying to find the magical mystery parking spot in Santa Rosa, so this time we could head directly there without needing to search.  I'm still a bit baffled by Santa Rosa... they're obviously extremely committed to the Tour, and I don't want to slight them, but they have the least helpful city Tour web page of the bunch.  If we hadn't been there before, we wouldn't have known where or how to reach the Fairgrounds; as it was, we needed to get directions from a young woman parking for another event in order to find the spot, which has no signs visible from the road.  It works, but barely.

This time, we got downtown in time to catch most of the Women's Criterium.  Dad had explained to me how this type of race, which he helps marshal back home, works.  It's run on a fairly short circuit of a mile or so, usually with lots of turns and curves.  The race starts with a timed portion with the riders making lots of laps.  After the time expires, it switches over to counting laps, and the prize goes to whoever finishes their laps first.  As a result, you get a ton of action at the end, with lots of jockeying for position and flat-out speed.

We grabbed a great spot to watch - I think that by now we've acquired a good eye for finding these.  The race was pretty thrilling to watch, and we were just close enough to the finish line to catch the announcer's thrilled exclamations.  The race went to Emilia Fahlin, a very young Swedish national.  We cheered and clapped, then went to look for a place indoors to eat.

Last year we had stumbled across a spot called Kabab & Curry which served up really tasty south Asian cuisine.  We couldn't remember the name, and ended up ducking into a sports bar instead.  It was still warm, as was the food... I got a chili burger and salad while Dad got a bowl of chili and french fries.

The riders weren't scheduled to arrive in Santa Rosa until at least 4pm, so after we had finished at the bar, we went in search of a coffee shop.  We found a Peet's, which is pretty common out here but apparently doesn't do free-standing shops in Chicago.  They were doing gangbuster business on this day... who wants to stand outside in the cold damp rain when you could be warming your hands around the beverage of your choice?  Dad braved the amazingly long line while I held down the fort, then we took our time with the drinks while following the Tour progress on my iPhone.  I was stunned to read that Fabian Cancellara, the Tour leader, had abandoned the race.  Evidently he had come down with a fever.  This is the second year in a row that the leader has abandoned; the previous year, it was due to food poisoning.

We left Peet's with plenty of time to walk around and find a viewing spot.  We saw more of the course than we had last year, but ended up pretty close to where we had watched last time, across the street from an electric car storefront. 

I was absolutely amazed at the turnout.  Even at the Criterium, the streets were packed with spectators.  The Tour's circuit was longer and so more spread out, but even so, there were a ton of people outside, shivering in their jackets, gloves, and umbrellas.  You can't ask for more from Californians.  As before, people were totally into it, chatting excitedly with one another and cheering loudly when the advance cars started coming through.

We would later learn that the organizers had shortened the race, but as far as we could tell at the time, it was going great.  We all yelled our hearts out when the riders zipped past.  The breakaway group in front held an incredible lead over the peleton, one that we quickly realized had no chance of defeat in the mere four laps they had in Santa Rosa.  We watched them go around and around, then smiled at the far-off screams of the announcer: "MANCEBO!"  It was over.

We took Rosie the Trolley back down to the fairgrounds, then headed south.  Our Santa Rosa journey covered mainly the same ground as last year's, but in the opposite direction: instead of going up the Peninsula, through Sausalito, then back up to Santa Rosa and eventually down the East Bay, we did it in reverse. 

The main reason for our San Francisco return was for a west-coast mini King Family Reunion.  My cousin Paul and his wife live in the city, while my cousin Jennifer and her family live in the peninsula.  We had arranged to meet at Baker Street Bistro, a neighborhood French restaurant, to reconnect with everyone.

We first met with Paul and Alison at their apartment.  It's an absolutely wonderful San Francisco flat, with an old-fashioned yet extremely comfortable look to it.  Alison has lived there for close to a decade and has done a gorgeous job at decorating it.  We chatted for a little while, then walked the block and a half to the Bistro.

Jen, Jose, and Izzy were already waiting for us.  It was great to chat with everyone... I've really enjoyed getting to see them more since moving out here, but still don't meet with them as often as I should.  Paul and Alison filled us in on their recent trip to a healthy, relaxing resort in Mexico.  I talked a bit about the cell phone applications I've worked on.  Jen and Jose told us about their Facebook experiences and recent movies, and Dad shared the story of taking Paul to see Star Wars when he was 10 years old.

The restaurant itself was great.  It was a cozy place, with the wine racks right next to the tables, and an exposed kitchen where you could see the cook.  A single waiter ran the whole place.  I started with a tomato bisque soup and had a wonderful Bourride Provençale (sort of a fish stew) as an entree.  As a bonus, it came with a really interesting risotto dish on the side.  Everything that I saw looked really good, and it was possible the most reasonably-priced French food that I've seen on the West Coast.

After dinner, we retired to Paul and Alison's.  Paul's birthday was the next day, so we celebrated with some hot beverages and home-made cupcakes.  We remained there chatting for a good long while before everyone said their goodbyes and headed out.

I chose to return on 280 instead of 101.   Take that, Google Maps!

President's Day dawned with more of the same weather: cold, cloudy, wet.  I had reluctantly but unequivocally abandoned my original viewing location ideal, the spot where they would drop out of the mountains in front of San Gregario and take a hard left onto Highway 1.  We decided that the trees in the mountains would provide at least a little cover, and so headed to the first KOM at Tunitas Creek and Skyline.  We'd eyeballed the racer's arrival at around 10:30AM, so we left my apartment a bit after 8 in order to get there with enough time for a good spot.

On our way up, we were amazed by the number of cyclists who were riding.  Just for a moment, forget the miserable weather.  They were ascending incredible gradients, pounding their way up slopes that would stop me flat.  Best of all, everyone was really cool.  The motorists gave the cyclists plenty of space, and the cyclists kept to the right and waved people around blind turns when it was safe.

I have a hard time judging distances, and the whole way up I was trying to estimate where I would be just short of Skyline.  I'm glad I kept on going, because eventually we got to a spot that was both perfectly obvious (with lots of other cars parked) and perfectly situated (plenty of room to parallel park) and perfectly located (probably less than a quarter mile from the summit).

Up on Skyline, we saw that some people had erected booths and were giving out free coffee and pancakes.  Wow!  That's amazing.  We milled around for a little while, then headed down Tunitas Creek for a few dozen yards past the official KOM signs.  People were already filling in, so we staked out a good position where we could see the riders come up and around a bend, navigate an S around an outcrop, then pass us to hit the KOM.

As on previous days, people were great to watch.  There were a few low-grade jerks who stood in the middle of the road or bothered others, but even they quickly passed, and the vast majority of folks were just happy to be there, rain and all.  I was amused to see how many people were obsessing over their cameras.  It shouldn't amuse me - I've definitely done so myself in previous years - but this time I just wanted to enjoy and actually watch the riders.  Not to mention that the rain meant that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't be able to get a beautiful picture.

It felt like a pretty long wait, but we kept our spirits up.  Finally the police cars started to move through and people moved at least a little back from the pavement.  Eventually the five-man breakaway crested, the crowd went nuts, vehicles roared by, more bikes came, more cheering, and so on.  This part of the road was so incredibly narrow that everything was all jumbled together, with cars driving within the peleton, riders moving back and forth beside them. 

And lo, a sign appeared to us: a sign of sun!  Almost at the moment the first riders came by, we got our first break in the clouds in two days.  It warmed our faces and our hearts.

We clapped clapped clapped, then swiftly walked back towards our car.  I had originally thought of this as a single-spot day, but with San Gregario gone, we'd realized that we would have time to drop into Santa Cruz for the finish.  We spun around, shot down 280, dropped through 85, then hit the summit on 17.  The rain up here was as bad as ever, and we slowed down for a section as a lane closed to deal with a mudslide.  Eventually we reached the city, with plenty of time to spare.

In start contrast to Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz has an EXCELLENT city web page for the Tour, and in just a few minutes the night before I knew exactly where I wanted to park, where the shuttle would take us, and roughly what the route would look like.  The rain had mostly given up in the city, so we gladly put away our umbrellas and walked the streets like real human beings.

The spot near the finish line proper was absolutely packed, so we walked further in.  We eventually settled on a sweet corner, Walnut and Center.  Corners are great because the riders need to slow down to take them, and as a result you can see them for longer.  Plus, I suppose that we all have a dormant NASCAR gene that's wondering if a rider will slam into the wall and explode.

We had a pretty short wait here, and because the sun was out it could have been much longer without us minding.  Dad struck up a conversation with a gentleman next to us, and found out that he was from the South Side of Chicago and still had family in the western suburbs.  We had a really nice long chat about Santa Cruz and other topics of small talk.

The race had gotten seriously shaken up in the mountains.  The five-man breakaway had vanished, and we saw just two riders pounding their way past.  One was Levi, and we would later learn that the other was a 22-year-old who ended up winning the stage.

The rest of the race was just a little weird... not bad at all, but the mountains and rain had done some serious damage, and so the riders were much more broken up than one would expect at this stage of the Tour.  Everyone got plenty of cheering.  I'm quite surprised that my voice isn't at all hoarse after three days of this!

The race finally over, we resolved to enjoy the remaining sun and the Santa Cruz atmosphere.  We found a great casual falafel shop - this one was Syrian, so it spelled things a little differently, but was still utterly delicious.  Dad got the veggie combo plate, which came with all sorts of good stuff like baba ganoush, hummus, and falafels.  I got the chicken shawarma sandwich, which was also amazingly tasty.  Anything tastes good if you're having lunch after 2 in the afternoon, but this would have been good regardless.

The rest of the afternoon we just wandered.  First down Pacific, then up the San Lorenzo river, then through some side streets.  Most of the roads downtown were closed, making this picturesque city even more pleasant to visit.  We dropped into Books Santa Cruz for a bit to browse, Dad grabbed some coffee at Peet's, and we eventually took the shuttle back to the car and called it a race.

Monday night we ran down the trip very peacefully.  Well, it was peaceful after we dominated some songs on Rock Band - Dad complained, but did a great job on both drums and guitar.  We cooked up a new recipe for me, Skillet Penne with Broccoli and Sun-Dried Tomatoes, which came out quite well, and served it with some Pink Lady apples and sweet potatoes.  The rest of the night we watched some IT Crowd and Flight of the Conchords before giving in to slumber.

Dad had originally planned to come into the city with me on Tuesday, but we agreed that after the last few days, he had more than earned a break from the rain.  And so ended the Tour of California 2009 - at least, the part that matters!  Given how rotten the weather was, it'll be interesting to see if this continues to be a tradition, either for myself or for California itself.  I'm quite adaptable, though, so even if the Tour as such isn't as big a draw in the future, I'm confident we can find another excuse to have family visit.

Hymn of the Big Wheel

Thanks to Andrew for finding a very kind mention of Wheeler over at Androica.  Kameka reviews some of the excellent free utilities available on the T-Mobile G1 for fulfilling peoples' fitness-related New Year's resolutions.  Making Wheeler was an amazing journey, and it's super-gratifying whenever I hear that someone is finding it useful.

Hitting the Road

The new Android Market is surprisingly mercenary.  In order to be an official developer, you just need to pay a one-time fee of $25.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.  On the one hand, I tend to enjoy the egalitarian ethos that anyone who writes code is a developer.  One of the few most attractive aspects of the Java ME ecosystem is that anyone can create a JAR and a JAD, throw the up on a webserver, and have people use your stuff.  By setting a barrier to entry in the market, Google seems to risk losing out on some of the messy, fun, seat-of-their-pants programming that often flocks to new platforms.

On the other hand, as a professional mobile developer, I'm used to developer programs with high standards and requirements.  Anyone who wants to distribute BREW apps needs to pay big bucks up front, without any sort of guarantee that the carrier will even permit their applications to be sold, and also pay a fee for every phone for every app that they want to sell.  Similar arrangements are in place for first-tier customers at the major carriers, and in order to have your app strongly visible on the deck, you need to pay big bucks and sacrifice a good chunk of your revenue.  By having a comparatively modest barrier, Google seems to risk letting in the riff-raff.

Altogether, I think it makes sense.  $25 isn't a lot... it's nothing to a company, and the equivalent of a few movie tickets or a really nice meal to a committed individual developer.  It keeps people from spamming the market with "Hello World" applications, giving more visibility to the people who care enough about their apps to make a little sacrifice.

As you've probably gathered by now, I have joined the joyous throng and anteed up.  Earlier this week I uploaded Wheeler, my first public individual submission, under the name of Fifth Column Software.

For those of you who don't already know about it, here's the skinny on Wheeler:
I started work on this a few weeks after the Android Developer Challenge began in November 2007.  It went surprisingly quickly.  I give a lot of the credit to what I've learned in my professional life.  I still remember the projects that I would work on when I was writing in BASIC in elementary school and junior high, which would NEVER END... I started writing something because I thought it was fun, and kept on adding more and more fun things, until it would become so unwieldy that I couldn't stand to do anything more with it.  Now, even for my fun projects, I invest the time up-front to come up with a bulleted feature list, some rough screen sketches, and overall architectural design.  Of course, things aren't set in stone, but I've found that doing this before I start serious coding helps make me brave enough to say "No" to the hundreds of new ideas that will pour in.  I capture the good ones, write them down, and schedule them for Version 2.  And if Version 2 never comes, at least I'll have a complete Version 1, which is more than I used to have for 90% of my projects.

That said, it's critical to have an exploratory phase when kicking off a project, especially when it's on a new platform.  My own experiments and forum-lurking revealed some huge gaps in the early SDK that would make certain things hard or impossible to make.  I expected these to be fixed before shipping, but that still eliminated certain classes of applications from the Challenge.

I've thought for a few years that, if I was a Google engineer, my 20% project would be to create a national Google Maps for bike routes.  Ideally it would work like regular Google Maps, where you could either search an area or ask for directions, but it would show and classify routes appropriately for cyclists.  You'd be able to get directions over trails, see which roads had bike lines or wide shoulders, and what places to avoid.  I thought the challenge would be a great chance to actually make it, and the more I thought about it, the more excited I got about its usefulness as a mobile app.  I could imagine someone taking a week-long touring trip, and when they came across construction they could whip out their Android phone, have it automatically locate them through GPS, then see what safe streets and trails were available nearby to continue their trek.

I learned pretty quickly that, while that kind of information is out there, there's no consistency.  Unlike road information, which is available on a national basis and in data-friendly formats, bike route ratings are variously created and supported by cities, municipalities, volunteer organizations, or individuals; often only exist in printed materials; and have no standards for route ratings.  I flirted with the idea of taking some of the more data-friendly offerings out there and creating a kind of demo application that would do what I wanted, but only be available in a few cities.  I decided against it.  I wanted something that would be widely useful to people across the US or even the world, and wasn't interested in making what was basically a toy - especially since Santa Clara County's own data isn't that great.

But, while poking around for the aborted route mapping idea, I became even more enamored with the possibilities of a always-connected mobile device that could be carried by cyclists.  Honestly, even the iPhone 3G by itself would be useful - just being able to see where you were and what was nearby would be a big improvement over carrying around bulky maps.  And once someone was carrying a phone, you could tailor it to provide them with useful things for their ride.  And once you got them using it during their rides, you could offer more support before and after...

I eventually chose a cluster of features that would offer the biggest usefulness bang for the smallest development time buck.  The centerpiece would show off Google's cool mapping feature.  Customized for cyclists, the map screen would not just show where you were but also track your direction, so on cloudy days you could immediately tell whether you were heading east or west down this particular road.  It would include a timer, similar to what's on a cyclocomputer, so you can keep track of how long your ride has been.  Actually, it would duplicate the features of a cyclocomputer, and add more of its own... why not keep track of how many feet of elevation a rider had climbed?

Since we're collecting all this good data, that opens up some really cool possibilities... well, cool to nerds like myself.  Forget keeping a riding log - the phone remembers everything for you.  You can pull it up and flip through old rides whenever you want, add notes, correct mistakes (like if you forgot to record part of the ride) or add new details (like how windy it was on a particular day).

Let's not forget that we're running on a device with a sweet, big screen, and more CPU power than the computers I learned to program on.  Let's take all that data we have, and add a sweet performance analyzing section!  Draw graphs of your average speed for rides during the past year, or see how many calories you burned during the past month.  Since I'm a liberal Bay Area resident, I also added a feature where you can see how much carbon you have conserved by riding instead of driving a car.

I kept on thinking of more cool stuff, but decided to hold the line there for the initial challenge... it would exercise some of Android's features, and be a complete, hopefully-useful application for people like me.

It came together surprisingly quickly.  I kept running into bugs in the SDK UI, which I dutifully logged and then worked around.  But thanks to my feature plan, I got to a point where everything was working, I was happy with it, and I could focus on debugging it and then say "It is good."  I even had enough time to write an entirely separate application for the contest, though that's another post entirely.

From there on it was mainly a shepherding process.  I upgraded the app from M3 to M5 when the new SDK was released.  I kind of lost interest after the contest was over - with no phones in existence and no additional incentive, I just decided to focus on other things.  But when the G1 came out (and I must admit to being a little surprised that Google really did hit their stated "Second half of 2008" target), I decided to polish the app off again.

Eventually.

Life's been pretty interesting the last few months.

All it took was a weekend, though... a good 48 uninterrupted hours with me, the R1 SDK, and Eclipse.  A good chunk of the time was just making everything compile again.  Google had fixed some bugs, which caused my work-arounds to break, but I'm always happy to take out hacks and do things the official way.  And they had introduced some new bugs, which I dutifully filed and found new work-arounds for.  Ah, the delightful life of the mobile engineer!

The last step was full business.  I took the time to read the disclosures and agreements, and was pretty interested by what I found.  Google does ask for some things that sound kind of scary at first, especially when it comes to payments, but again, compared to most mobile markets out there, it was quite reasonable... and this was pretty much the only one letting individual fishes swim among the schools.

One complaint some major studios have expressed is that the Market currently does not support charging for applications.  This "feature" will be added in the future, but for now, all apps are free.  Personally, selfishly, I don't mind.  I like Wheeler a lot, but I don't see a huge market out there of people looking to spend money on a cycling application for the G1.  I'd much rather 100 people try it and hopefully find it useful, earning me some karma, rather than 10 people buy it and give me a pittance.

That's the end of that chapter.  Not sure yet what the future of Android holds for me... it's been a fun ride so far, and I hope it gets better!

Trendspotting

You read it here first: Unicycles are going to be huge.

I base this prediction off the following coincidence: twice in the past week, I have encountered a unicyclist in the wild. First in San Francisco riding west on Brannan Street, then again this morning riding up Limekiln Canyon Trail in Sierra Azul Open Space Preserve. If you're keeping track at home, this means that unicycles are poised to break into both road bike AND the mountain bike sector. Exciting times ahead for riders!

Biked to Work Day!

Just a quick note: today is Bike to Work Day! Officially so in the Bay Area, but you can observe it wherever you are. If you're within pedaling distance of your office, give it a spin!

I was impressed by how many people I saw out riding today. It's really fun, and today is a great day to get started. With more cyclists around you're more visible, and there are refreshment stations set up all over where you can grab snacks, drinks, and more information about cycling opportunities.

Fate has struck again, and the weather didn't exactly cooperate this year. It will be the hottest day of the year to date, with San Jose expected to reach a whopping 99 degrees. That said, as long as you ride in the morning and evening, you should be fine, and with a brisk wind and the Bay Area's patented lack of humidity, it ought to be pleasant as well. Just be sure to bring water with you when you ride, and ride safe!

Thing I Love, #72,483

I'd like to give a heartfelt "Thank you!" to the kind cyclist who rescued me today on Hicks Road near Guadalupe Reservoir. I was sixteen miles from home and nine miles from civilization, and without your generous gift of a spare patch, this would have been an intolerable end to an ignoble week.

On a related note, I don't think I'm going to forget this any time soon. The whole thing was my fault, as is generally the case, but in a particularly dumb way this time. I always bring my patch kit and tools with me every time I ride to work, which is just about 8 miles each way, and really close to transit and stuff should anything happen. The one day that I went on a longish trip was the one day I did not bring my kit, and of course this was also the one day that I did get a flat during a ride. The whole thing is almost comical: it happened at the very tail end of the ride, at precisely the point where I had decided I would turn around. Any earlier or later and it would have been a shorter limp home: it happened in the absolute worst place possible, as far as distance is considered.

I do count myself lucky, though. Not only for the good Samaritan with a patch: also because I had discovered a flat tire on my bike just a few weeks ago, in the comfort of my home, where I could turn to Sloane and take my time figuring out how to safely change a tire. So I was fortunate to have that knowledge fresh in my head when I was sitting in the dirt at the side of the road, cheerfully manhandling rubber.

In totally unrelated news: I have discovered that Picasa web albums have a hard limit of 250 albums. This annoys me. Granted, I'm predisposed to be in a bad mood, but it's especially aggravating because there is no official documentation anywhere explaining this. I still have ample free space left, and I had to dig around online for a while before I found an (unofficial) explanation of the problem.

So, how did I get up to 250 albums in just a few years? First, I post a new album for each of my hikes, which means about 50 a year just from that. Second, I took a ton of pictures in my trip to Japan, and split that into a whole bunch of albums... there's just under 100 albums there. So, that doesn't leave a lot of space for the other, incidental pictures I occasionally take.

As a solution, I think I'll start manually deleting my oldest albums. I haven't decided yet whether to trim them all equally or focus on removing old hikes, which are of minimal interest to people other than me. This is just a heads-up to let everyone know that I'm not trying to disappear myself or rewrite history... I'm just reacting to the situation on the ground. If you happen to want copies of anything, I still keep originals of all my photos on my hard drive and am always happy to share!

Back in the Saddle

Have I mentioned that my bike was stolen? Odds are that either this is news to you, or you've heard entirely too much about it over the past two months.

It's still a bit of a shock to me. It was ripped off from the bike rack in back of my office, where I've been locking it up almost every workday for well over a year. Nobody else has had any problems with theft, so my co-workers and I were all pretty stunned.

I filed a police report and unhappily waited, but had no illusions: I knew that the odds of retrieving it were slim. The only silver lining was that, since it went in late December, I wouldn't have been doing much riding over the next month anyways. Still... I was just a few rides away from 1500 miles for the year, plus I just hate the feeling of losing something like that. It's the most costly item I've ever had taken from me.

After a while I received the official letter from the Los Gatos police department that (nicely) said that they weren't looking for it any more. I sulked for a bit longer, but after heading into a stretch of glorious weather (70 degrees? In February? For a Midwestern boy like me, that's unfathomable and undeniable), I was moved to take action.

Prior to the theft, I'd been telling everyone that my next bike would be a road bike. My original bike, a Specialized Sirrus hybrid, was a compromise, since I couldn't decide if I'd only be riding on a paved trail or if I'd also be heading off-road at all. I've since come to realize that the road options in the area are ample for me, and it made sense that my next bike would take advantage of all that.

Still, when I said that my next bike would be a road bike, I was thinking "next bike" in terms of the next five or ten years, not later in the aughts. When I came to face the actual decision, I found myself resisting. First, with the prospect of loss fresh in my mind, it seemed unwise to drop over a grand on a bike. Second, for the kind of riding I'm doing now, day to day, a hybrid still makes more sense. I share the trail with other riders, runners, dogs, strollers, etc. The hybrid's construction keeps me very visible and encourages me to sit upright where I can see and response to the myriad mobile obstacles on the horizon. Altogether, it seemed the way to go.

I finally went and got it yesterday. I felt a little bit sheepish when I returned to Wheel Away... after all, I'd bought the exact same bike from them just two years ago. They were great as always, though, and in seemingly no time at all I was happily on my way again.

I must say, I do like this new bike. It's another Sirrus, but they've touched up the design. There are more shiny metal parts now, which will look crummy in a year but look really sharp right now. There are plenty of other smaller changes as well. The handles are more textured now, with a broader grip. The seat is a higher-quality leather, and the styling on all the bike looks better.

I did my first serious riding on it today. It seems to be going pretty well... the biggest problem I've had so far is with the front shifter. It doesn't want to move from second to third gear, but after some trial and error, I've found that it will shift most of the time if I stop pedaling while I shift. That's different behavior than on my previous Sirrus, so I may have them look at the dérailleur when I take it in for my tune-up.

Other than that, though, I was very pleased. Honestly, as pleased with myself as with the bike. After two months of absolutely no riding, I was dreading getting back into shape on it. I won't lie - I did feel pretty beat when I pulled into work - but nowhere close to the pain when I first rode to work. I also realized all the little things I'd gotten good at without even noticing. For example, the toe clips. I went for a whole year either not using them or using only one, due to all the trouble I had with them, but now, after just opening them up a tad, I was surprised by how effortless it has become to slip my feet on and off my pedals.

If nothing else, this experience has taught me that I need to value the time that I have, because I don't know how long it will last. I realized that I never named my previous bike, and resolved not to make the same mistake. So, after one day, I've settled on one: Asfaloth. Shadowfax would have been the obvious choice, but hey, I need to save a cooler name for the better bike that I'll be getting in the future. Hopefully a decade from now.

Awesome Adventures

Phew!

I would be feeling pretty tired right now, if I didn't feel like such a wuss in comparison to the professional athletes I've been watching. I've just come off a fun, quick, unusual vacation that combined the best of all worlds: time with family, sightseeing, relaxing, and ample excitement.

I've previously attended the Tour of California, a new professional cycling race that is now entering its third year. It combines my established love of California with my growing love of cycling. In previous years, my Dad and I have enjoyed chatting about the race as it unfolded; this year, his schedule worked out such that he was able to come out and watch the race (at least the first portion of it) with me.

Dad came out on Friday, arriving almost half an hour early. He left Illinois when it was cold and snowy, and emerged from the plane into a brilliantly clear and warm California day. We swung by Twist Cafe for lunch, a nice little French cafe that I've wanted to eat at but never have. Well, not exactly. I ordered the Tri-Tip Sandwich, which believe it or not I've been desiring for about two years. We had a leisurely lunch and chat, then he got to chill in my apartment while I wrapped up the work day. As a bonus, I discovered that the contractors had fixed my porch door, thus allowing me access to the outside!

Among the many reasons I enjoy visitors, it gives me a chance to try out some food options that would be tricky to cook for myself. I had my eye on two recent recipes from Cook's Illustrated: Chicken Saltimboca and Fluffy Yellow Cake. The cake (with chocolate frosting) is my favorite cake, and has been since my childhood, though I have only had it from a box mix; the Saltimboca just sounded really good. My attempt at the cake was prematurely thwarted. Can you believe that neither Whole Foods, Trader Joe's, nor Safeway carries Dutch-process cocoa? Yes, granted, until a year ago I wouldn't have even known what that was. Still! It annoys me. I had to shelve their chocolate frosting recipe, and without the frosting there's no sense in making the cake.

The Saltimboca was a go, though. I had to make my own cutlets, but even with that it was relatively simple to make. The end result is really rich, though: sage-infused chicken wrapped with prosciutto and topped with a lemony wine sauce. We paired it with simple roasted butternut squash puree and persimmons. Good California eating! For dessert, we worked our way through some oatmeal cookies I've stashed away.

The race wasn't starting until Sunday, so we had all of Saturday to play. Dad was game for hiking, so we journeyed out to Henry Coe park. This is probably my favorite park in the area, but it is far enough that I don't make it there as often as I would like. It's been in the news lately due to appearing on Governor Schwarzenegger's list of proposed parks to close. That would be a travesty... it's one of the most beautiful parts of a beautiful state.

Anyways! I sort of cobbled together a hike from a few routes I'd taken before. We hit the Corral Trail out from Headquarters, then did the Forest Trail. I'd just recently done this trail, but I think it's a perfect orientation to the park and California nature in general... it really is a microcosm of the species and principles you'll encounter. From there we hiked all the way down Poverty Flats Road, which isn't nearly as painful as hiking UP it, as I've done every other time. The highlight of the hike was an ascent up Middle Ridge, a steep elevation gain but one that afforded us some wonderful views, including some soaring eagles and even more impressive views.

Saturday night and every other night, we continued the March Through Chris's Freezer o' Leftovers. This time it was Hearty Tuscan Bean Stew, another CI dish. Baked potatoes and more persimmons filled out the meal.

Sunday is race day! After a visit to Menlo Park Presbyterian, we hopped several blocks east to Palo Alto. I haven't spent much time there, but have visited twice in the last several months, and so had a decent feel for the layout. We parked in a lot and wandered downtown. Even though it would be nearly three hours until the race started, several hundred people were already walking the streets. We had plenty of time to explore the city and the university, which I gleefully took advantage of, finally getting to see the Rodin Sculpture Garden and other points at Stanford. For lunch, we got two of the tastiest gyros ever (vegetarian/falafel and beef+lamb) and ate them while sitting on a sun-soaked curb, cheering riders in the Mayor's Charity Race.

The Prologue was a good chance to catch individual racers up-close during their time trials. We wandered up and down the length of the route, which stretched from downtown to the Stanford oval. Last year I'd cheered for Bryce Mead on his ascent up Telegraph Hill; this year, Dad got to holler "ABD!" when he approached the starting line. I'm regularly impressed by how close to the racers you can get at these things.

The race wrapped up a bit after 3. Levi didn't repeat his earlier win, but had a very respectable finish. The crowd was generally appreciative.

Speaking of which, I was impressed by the turnout. This is the first year that Palo Alto has been involved in the Tour, which has started up in the City the last two years. Because of this it doesn't have the sort of history established that other cities have, and I'd expect turnout to be smaller. It's hard to judge the size of crowds, especially when they're as spread out as they are for a race, but I thought it was pretty comparable to what San Francisco saw. Even better than the size, people throughout the week were enthusiastic and appreciative. I think a lot of people are like me and only vaguely aware of the intricacies of the sport, but we still enjoy it greatly.

Almost from the time I moved out here, I've wanted to visit the Stanford Theater, a restored classic movie theater. We lucked out, since Dad's visit coincided with their Hitchcock festival: two and a half months of movies covering the entire span of his career. My tastes are fickle, but I usually count Hitchcock as one of my three favorite directors of all time, along with Gilliam and Kubrick. Anyways! Sunday night's film was Spellbound, which I hadn't seen before. (Random note: on the rare occasion I blog about films, I think I'll start linking to Wikipedia instead of IMDB. IMDB has seniority, but I've never really liked their site design, and their advertising is increasingly annoying. Now that Wikipedia's just as informative, they're my new go-to for movie info.) It was a great movie, more in line with The Man who Knew Too Much than Psycho. Let me emphasize that: it was a GREAT movie. It seemed specifically designed to appeal to me. Dream sequences? Designed by Salvador Dali? First use of the theremin in a film? Madcap psychologists? It's all in there, baby!

As a bonus, after the movie we got to enjoy a few pieces performed live on the Mighty Wurlitzer organ. Good times!

Dinner Sunday night: a white chicken chili.

Monday, President's Day, was a free day off work, the first stage of the race proper, and the start of our rumspringa. After my near-disastrous experience in Sausalito last year, we got an early start to the day, working our way down the steep roads a good hour or so before the start. After evading some surprisingly rude drivers, we snagged a parking spot by a church and walked down to Bridgeway. One of the reasons we had come early was to attend the Bike Expo, but it was a bit of a let-down... just some repackaged booths that we had seen before, set under a big tent. After making the rounds we struck out for Caledonia, where they would be making several parade routes.

We semi-accidentally stumbled onto the eastern edge of Caledonia and established ourselves one block west of the turn. It was a phenomenal position, the first of several we would get... we got to see the riders as they came down on Bridgeway, then again seconds later after they rounded the tight turn into Caledonia and accelerated towards us. This was repeated several times, allowing for multiple shots with the camera as well as ample cheering opportunities. Feeling the peleton rush by is, well, quite a rush!

Our next destination: Santa Rosa. While the cyclists would work their way north along Highway 1, we took the speedy shortcut along 101, where we made pretty good time into Sonoma County. We arrived in Santa Rosa with plenty of time to spare, then squandered it when I drove around semi-aimlessly looking for parking. I'd latched onto a fragment of a sentence on the Santa Rosa race web site describing parking at "The Fairgrounds", failed to locate it, then killed nearly an hour while getting lost. In retrospect I should have just grabbed a spot at a garage... it would have been cheaper than the gas I burned going in circles. We missed the Women's Criterium (except for a brief glimpse while waiting for the Longest Left Turn Arrow in the Universe), but after parking and catching Rosie the Trolley, we still arrived with ample time. The crowd here was just enormous, probably the largest and most enthusiastic of any city we would see. We realized there was no way we'd see anything near the finish line, but by moving just a few blocks away we scored yet another killer location, immediately after a hard right turn on a final loop through the city. I steered us towards Traverso's for lunch, and was shocked - shocked! - to see that they were closed. On President's Day! It was a blessing in disguise, though, since that steered us towards some very tasty Chicken Tikka Masala served by a smiling vendor outside a "Curry in a Hurry" store. Warm, filling, and utterly tasty, it came with generous saffron rice and naan.

We could tell when the riders were approaching by the enormous roar that came from the crowd. Soon - poof! - the racers where in front of us, pumping furiously. In a moment they were gone, but the vocal appreciation continued.

After the stage finished, we worked our way towards the podium for the awards. We couldn't see much, but did get to hear all of the jerseys awarded and the overall standings. Even though Levi wasn't on top this year, the crowd was still into it, applauding all the riders for their work.

We ambled back to the intersection of Santa Rosa and Sonoma, where we caught the last trolley of the day. Next we headed towards our hotel, the Flamingo. It's an interesting place! The staff were friendly, the facade fascinating, and our room was really comfortable. As a strange bonus, it included a second, unadvertised bedroom/closet with two narrow beds laid head to foot. It was useless to us, but would have been perfect on a family trip.

We were both pretty tired - Dad from lack of sleep, me from driving - so we chilled in our hotel the rest of the night. The exception was dinner, which we selected after one of the longest (albeit most pleasant) food deliberations I've had outside of conversations with Pat. After considering and evaluating a half-dozen possibilities, our own tastes, level of hunger, and aptitude for travel, we settled on Hank's Creekside Restaurant, which was across the street. And, it turns out, closed. D'oh! But, simply by re-crossing the street, we landed at Lyon's, a classic diner from the 1950's. It was a supremely comfortable place with surprisingly good food. I had a reuben sandwich with potato salad, Dad took an interesting Southwest salad.

We liked Lyon's so much that we hit it again for breakfast the next morning. I stayed boring and took a combination of French toast, fruit, and a small Denver omelet, while Dad got a more substantial mushroom omelet. Thus fueled, we stepped out into the rain and headed east.

Since we had caught both the beginning and the end of a stage by now, we wanted to next see the middle portion of a race. The best-looking candidate was the first King of the Mountain, located at the peak of a grueling climb up Trinity Grade. The steepness of the mountain would break up the peleton, giving us some drama, as well as a slower pace by the riders so we could see them more clearly. Neither of us had any idea how early we should get there, but since racing was at the top of our agenda, we got an early start and headed right there.

I'm glad that we did. Even though it would be a few hours before the riders came, several people had already staked out their spots along Trinity. I was tempted to join them, but from our careful examination of the race route (thank you, iPhone!), I knew that our best shot was to push on towards Cavedale. We arrived, pulled a little bit forward to park the car, and then had a short walk back to the KOM. An intermittent drizzle was keeping us cool as we settled in to wait.

It was a very different environment and crowd than the cities we'd been in before, but was probably even more entertaining. We watched in disbelief at the vehicles that were attempting to navigate the narrow, twisty mountain roads, and chatted with fellow spectators who were following the race. By now we were out of the weekend and out of the holiday, so casual fans had gone back to work and the dedicated ones remained. We talked with a photographer who had come down from Oregon to watch; others had come from as far as Denver or even Virginia. The ToC is really establishing itself, and it's very cool to see it becoming a real destination race.

Throughout the wait, riders regularly pedaled their way up the slopes. I was and remain very impressed. I have only limited experience with steep climbing, and am always thwarted in my attacks on Hicks Road, so I can really appreciate the great physical strength it takes to tackle these insanely steep roads.

The size of the crowd swelled, lining all parts of the road several layers deep. We had arrived early enough to land a prime position, on the outside of the sharp left turn at Cavedale. People were up on the slopes, climbing trees, even perching on top of a Winnebago. Eventually, they closed down the road, and then the only traffic we saw consisted of Tour vehicles and cyclists.

A Toyota van came by and handed out noisemakers and chalk. I inscribed my section of pavement with the sigil of the Illuminati. An SUV equipped with loudspeakers then pulled in - in a great and classy move, the Tour was sending announcers in advance of the riders. He filled us in on the story of the day - how Scott Nydam was making a solo attack, being chased by Jackson Stewart, also riding solo. Now, Dad and I were actually abreast of this (thank you, iPhone!), but almost nobody else would have known it. Anyways, it was just very generous of them, and helped keep the spectators pumped up and informed.

Scott eventually pulled up to a rousing set of cheers. There was some good theater going on - two runners, each carrying a California state flag, ran alongside him for the last fifty meters or so up to the KOM. With thunderous applause, he claimed the prize and pushed on. Later we would learn that he went on to win all the bonuses - both KOMs and both Sprints - although he would finally be caught before arriving in Sacramento.

There was plenty more racing to watch before that, though. We gave Jackson just as big a hand when he came through... what he was doing was every bit as difficult as Scott. After him came the mass of riders, then a few stragglers picking up the rear. After the broom wagon moved through, the party broke up and we headed back to the car.

I really enjoy driving in the mountains, and had an especially fun time coming down Cavedale. It's really a one-lane road that happens to have traffic coming in both directions. And is really twisty, steep, and has pavement in poor condition. Awesome driving! We swung back to Santa Rosa, where we refueled at a nifty little pizza place I found on Yelp called Rosso Pizzeria. It was pretty expensive, but REALLY tasty, a true gourmet California pizza place with unusual toppings made from local ingredients. I had a pizza with creamy roasted garlic, fresh mozarella, spring onions and caramelized onions; Dad took a meatier and even tastier pizza. We enjoyed a leisurely and peaceful meal before coming back to hit the road.

For variety's sake, I took an alternate route home suggested by Google that took us on 580 over and down the east side of the Bay. This included my first trip on the Richmond-San Rafael bridge, bringing my total number of crossed Bay-area bridges up to 3. We just flew down the bridge - granted, it was in the early afternoon so of course traffic was light, but I was still impressed. Compared with the Bay Bridge, which has five traffic lanes in each direction, this has only two. Also, I didn't see a tollbooth anywhere. Maybe it's all FastTrack-only? Anyways, it was cool to catch yet another part of the area. Our trip down 980 and 880 was uneventful, although we did get to appreciate the nice green Diablo hills.

Arriving back in San Jose in the middle afternoon, we had ample daylight left, and decided to hit the Museum of Art downtown. I hadn't been previously, so it was fun to finally get inside. I'm glad I went... it isn't a really impressive museum on the same order as SFMOMA or the Art Institute in Chicago, but still has a good collection of contemporary art that focuses on works by Californian artists. My favorite was probably a piece by a Los Angeles artist depicting a street corner in Santa Monica as seen from the air. There were also some really interesting pieces, including a video installation of a breathing rose and a foreboding photograph of row homes abutting a rail line.

There were two special exhibits running, organized around a common theme of sketches. The first, and for my money more interesting, was Goya's Caprichos. This was a collection of engravings he did, often featuring grotesque and disturbing images. Each was presented with commentary that gave different interpretations of the work. Many of the caprichos gave thinly-veiled criticism of the church, while others attacked royalty, attitudes towards women, child discipline, and more. The overall effect was quite dark, but I found it fascinating.

The second collection was of Picasso's love sketches. These were all non-representative drawings, generally of nude women, often in scenes of desire. It was cool to see another side of this incredibly versatile artist's output, but at the same time, they often felt dashed-off... the overall effect was a little bit like listening to a studio outtake from a favorite musician. It's cool to get more insight into how the creative mind works, but the piece doesn't stand on its own as well as the studio album.

And then, home! Tuesday was yet another relaxing evening. We capped off the Journey through Christopher's Freezer with some reheated French Onion Soup. That night I introduced Dad to the wonders of The IT Crowd. A lot.

Wednesday the race would run from Modesto to San Jose, but Dad's relatively early flight meant he wouldn't be able to catch the finish. The day was far from wasted, though. We both caught up on some of the sleep we'd missed earlier, had a leisurely breakfast of Swiss oatmeal, and headed out for a final walk. We went to the Don Edwards preserve, another bayfront park that I hadn't been to before. Evidently, this was the first urban refuge in the United States, and its facilities are quite nice. The five-mile walk we had our eyes set on, around the Slough, turned out to be a no-go... part of the trail was torn up for restoration. We took it for a mile or so, admiring both the pretty views and the shocking slag bordering the water. We picked up the Tidelands Trail for a loop back to headquarters.

In-n-Out isn't mandatory in the same way that Southern Kitchen is, but it's highly recommended for out-of-staters, and so I was happy that we got to hit one for lunch en route to the airport. I introduced Dad to fries Animal Style and to the hidden messages on the packaging. From there, it was a smooth and short drive to good old SJC, where I reluctantly put him on a plane back home. We're already thinking about future Tours.

Postscript: I did make it to downtown San Jose to catch the finish, and was happy to do so. The crowd wasn't as large or loud as in Santa Rosa, but again, considering this was a workday afternoon, I was impressed by the turnout. They did a great job of announcing the race on its way into town, and it was my best shot yet at getting close to the finish line. It had a dramatic finish, with Levi tailing another rider into town, winning second place for the stage and vaulting into the yellow jersey for the first time in 2008. We do love our stars, and Levi is an easy person to love. Let Levi ride!