Hamilton and Diablo in a Day

Bill Bushnell — Saturday, April 30, 1994

Thomas Maslen and I started from my place in Palo Alto at 5:12. We rode south on Middlefield Rd. and Central Expressway at a moderate pace. We turned left onto Trimble Rd. and continued over to east San Jose. A long line of trucks headed for I-880 slowly passed us as we headed east.

We continued onto Montague Expressway and then right on Trade Zone Blvd. to N. Capitol Ave. We turned right and followed the Mt. Hamilton Challenge arrows to Penitencia Creek Rd. I stopped along the way to water the bushes just as an old man walking his dog ambled into view.

We turned right on Toyon St., left on McKee, left on Alum Rock Ave., and right on Mt. Hamilton Rd. and began the long climb.

We expected to be passed soon by cyclists on the Mt. Hamilton Challenge ride that began at the Lockheed plant in Sunnyvale. I did not know what time the ride started: 6:00 or 6:30. If the former, then we would surely be passed by some of the faster cyclists on the way up the mountain.

As we climbed, I kept looking back to enjoy the view. We were rising up the hillside out of the fog, but to the north a thick white blanket lay low to the ground. I also looked for other cyclists pedaling fast up the hill but saw none.

The descent into Halls Valley was cold, but we soon warmed while climbing the second upgrade. Partway up we passed a nervous black steer trapped between us on our silent machines and a steep embankment.

At the top of the second upgrade, Thomas and I stopped for numbers: 1 for me and 2 for him. Thomas asked me to continue without him. As I climbed the third and longest upgrade alone I kept my eyes on the scenery. I was hoping to see more blooming flowers, but I only saw a few small but colorful patches of mixed lupine and poppies growing by the roadside.

I looked back every so often to check Thomas’s progress, but I could not see the road where it passed behind a hill or under trees. I also kept my eye open for tacks and other debris. Last year as a goodwill gesture, someone had thrown tacks out on the road near Kincaid Rd.

I found no tacks nor did I see other cyclists until I was about 1/2 of the way up the final upgrade. I then saw two cyclists zipping down the second downgrade to Smith Creek.

As I neared the summit, I saw several cyclists pedaling quickly up the hill including one that looked like Thomas. Ahead of him were at least a couple other cyclists.

When I got to the summit, I stood and ate a snack at the benchmark and watched the road below. Cyclists were crawling like a trail of ants up the road.

About 6 or 7 minutes after I arrived, the first of the Challenge riders arrived. Thomas was next, and several more cyclists dribbled in over the next 45 minutes while we relaxed in the warm courtyard on the southeast side of the building.

Thomas and I both expected to meet up with John Hughes by the time we got to the top, but John had not arrived by the time we decided to press on down the backside of the mountain at 9:30. We did see Mike Wilson, a regular participant on John’s long-distance rides.

The ride down the steep backside of Mt. Hamilton was uneventful. At the bottom of the second downgrade we stopped and peeled off several layers of clothing. We continued through San Antonio Valley to the Junction Cafe without further delay. We saw few wildflowers on the way. Thomas saw a snake on the road, but my eyes were off in the fields.

Mike, the proprietor of the cafe, seemed less grumpy today than he did last month. [The Junction Café has since passed through several different proprietors.] We relaxed on the tables outside and chatted with a couple of older cyclists who were not on the official ride. They had started early in Milpitas and were riding the “minimum loop”. After about a half-hour of snacking and relaxing we continued on toward Livermore.

Part way up the first grade to Eylar Summit we passed a cyclist on the Challenge ride who told us he had ridden the Livermore/Patterson loop two weeks ago and that the flowers were blooming then. I guess I just missed them this year. Oh well.

At the top of Eylar Summit we stopped briefly to enjoy the silence of the land. Just before we started down the hill Karl Kneip came by.

We continued past the Arroyo Mocho rest stop for the Challenge ride.

A strong headwind began to pick up as we descended Mines Rd.

Just past the rest stop we came upon a cyclist riding a little slower than we. I pulled up and drafted him as best I could. But he kept looking over his shoulder as if expecting a blow and seemed nervous with my following closely. I decided to pull back and give him room.

A few miles before the final descent into Livermore, a long line of cyclists led by a guy on aerobars approached from the rear. I wasn’t sure whether I felt like letting them pass and then tagging onto the end or whether I felt like staying ahead so I wouldn’t be trapped behind a tight bunch on the fast downhill soon to come.

After telling Thomas that maybe we could hook onto the approaching line, I decided to try and stay ahead. I pedaled a little harder. The lead rider must have been tired because no one tried to pass us until the start of the steep downhill where one guy pedaled madly to get by while I was in a tuck. At the first right-hand corner, I noticed him wobble a bit as he negotiated the gravel and tried to get his speed under control. He stayed up. Whew!

At the bottom of the hill, my legs felt great, but my gut was in side-stitches. Thomas and I plodded on at 16 mph to the Livermore Public Library where we stopped to eat lunch. We went across the street to Nob Hill Foods and bought deli sandwiches. I also bought a miniature peach pie and gave myself a Frank Award. Thomas exercised greater restraint.

We ate lunch on the lawn and napped lazily for about 20 minutes in the sun before we slowly got our things together, refilled our water bottles and began the second half of the ride. The time was 14:05.

We rode past the flag pole at the center of town and north on North Livermore Avenue. We continued out under I-580 and across the fields north of the town. The wind was blowing stiffly at such an angle so as not to affect our speed.

When we turned left on Manning Rd. we had to face the wind head-on. We continued on Manning to Carneal rather than taking Highland. We turned right on Carneal and continued to Highland Way and then we turned left. The rolling fields were beautiful green, but the wildflowers were few.

We turned right on Camino Tassajara and continued to Blackhawk Rd. We turned right on Blackhawk Rd. and then right on South Gate Rd. and began the long climb up Mt. Diablo.

Halfway up the hot section a series of fire trucks, ambulances, and Sheriffs trucks all passed us with lights flashing, sirens blaring, and horns bellowing. Higher up the hill we could see a hovering helicopter. It must have been some accident. Since North Gate Rd. was closed, surely we’d find out what all the commotion was about. Strangely, we saw no evidence of an accident nor did we see the emergency vehicles again.

At the junction between North Gate and South Gate roads, Thomas decided not to tear apart his muscles any more. He offered to find a nice comfy spot to relax while I rode to the summit and back.

The ride up Summit Rd. was uneventful. I lapsed into my granny gear a few times when the grade went above 7% so I wouldn’t tire my muscles too much for the ride home.

At the summit I took a few obligatory pictures, ate a snack, and talked to a fellow who used to be into long-distance cycling. But I didn’t linger too long as Thomas was waiting down at the junction.

On the way down South Gate Rd. at the bottom of the only fun little drop, a couple mountain bikers waved us down. One of the bikers had a flat tire but his Zefal mini pump had busted. I told them I didn’t care much for the mini pumps but that I’d never had a problem with the full-size models.

We continued down South Gate Rd. and returned to Blackhawk where we stopped at a Pizza and Pasta restaurant at the Blackhawk Shopping Mall for a nice, big pasta dinner. Now you’re probably thinking, “Uh oh!” The danger of this, of course, was that we’d be too full and sleepy afterward to ride home comfortably. We took the risk.

The meal was good, and we spent a long time eating and resting afterward in the warm restaurant. At 20:00 we finally got moving again. Our next stop was a Safeway across the street so Thomas could get some batteries for his light.

The first leg of the most direct route home was on Crow Canyon Rd., a road I’ll avoid riding at night in the future: narrow to non-existent shoulders, flesh-shredding guardrails, reflector “squares” placed along the white shoulder line, glass and debris that we were aware of only after we heard the tell-tale “Crunch!”, many spent flares that also went “Crunch!” and gave evidence of frequent accidents on this roadway, and motorists driving well in excess of the posted limit, swerving at times out of the lane ahead of us. Combine these hazards with an impending case of side-stitches, and you’ll see that this was not the most enjoyable segment of the trip for me.

Unfortunately, the next most convenient alternates are not much better:

Norris Canyon Rd. has a tougher climb and still requires one to ride a significant distance on Crow Canyon Rd. The tight part of Niles Canyon Rd. is shorter but is still just as harrowing, and it increases the overall distance significantly. A ride on BART would’ve been more comfortable.

We continued through Castro Valley and Hayward. I missed the left turn for A Street, so we turned left on Mission and right on A. The neighborhood and roadway deteriorated somewhat as we got closer to the bay, but we managed without incident. We turned left on Hesperian Blvd. and pedaled south riding alternately and endlessly past apartments and strip malls. The first several miles of road had no shoulder, so we rode in the right lane.

Finally we crossed Alameda Creek and turned right on Paseo Padre. After stopping briefly at the Nature Center in Newark, we continued across the Dumbarton Bridge and home, arriving at 23:27 tired but unbroken.

Ride stats:

distance: 174.4 miles

climbing: 11,520 feet

average speed: 13.8 mph

maximum speed: 38.0 mph

total time: 18:15

riding time: 12:38

index: 220

irp: 12.1

mirp: 17.4

climbing density: 66 ft/mile

An article on indexing can be found here.

©2004, Bill Bushnell

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