Mt. Diablo and Morgan Territory

Bill Bushnell — Sunday, March 21, 1993

As I arrive at the Palo Alto Cultural Center at precisely 7:30 I see that Brent, Rich, and Jude, are waiting.

While we wait to see if anyone else shows up, Brent looks me earnestly in the eye saying, “You know this is going to be a long day for me. I hope we’re planning to take BART home.”

“Well, I’d sort of like to see how we feel when we get back to Walnut Creek.” I answer, knowing full well that I’d probably be pooped after riding around and up Mt. Diablo. I can understand how Brent feels, though, since he has ridden from Sunnyvale and will be riding back to Sunnyvale after I’ve finished the ride at the end of the day.

After waiting ten minutes we start off. Since the hour is early, I decide to lead the ride up Newell Rd. and then to University Avenue and out to the Bayfront Expressway. We ride at a moderate pace between 16 and 20 mph—no sense in pushing it now since we have a big day ahead. The air is cool and damp, and the sky is overcast gray.

When we arrive at Union City BART, we find we have just missed the northbound train, so we have to wait another 20 minutes for the next one. Somehow it seems a bit anti-climactic to sit on BART for an hour while only 16 miles into a 100-mile ride. Just when we’ve warmed up, we have to sit and rest. Maybe next time we’ll take BART only on the homeward-bound leg of the trip.

After exiting in Pleasant Hill, we make our way to Ygnacio Valley Rd. and then up over the Lime Kiln Hills to Clayton. From Clayton we take Marsh Creek Rd. southeast as far as Morgan Territory Rd. While descending from the minor summit, a driver of a white RX-7 insists on trying to pass us. Honk! Honk! There’s no room to pass, and since we’re moving at about 35 mph, I see no need to encourage the impatient driver to pass. Besides, we’d be turning off soon anyway.

After turning off onto Morgan Territory Rd., the ride becomes much more peaceful. The surrounding land reminds me of San Antonio Valley behind Mt. Hamilton, and further up the hill, Morgan Territory Rd. is like the narrow part of Calaveras Rd.

Brent has ridden on ahead while Rich thinks aloud about the possible inaccuracies of the ride index formula.

At Morgan Territory Preserve, we stop to eat lunch and to refill our water bottles. After a disastrous performance in Solvang two weeks ago, I am taking great care not to get dehydrated today. Perhaps I’m too careful as I find I have to relieve myself nearly as often as I come upon a public toilet.

The southern descent of Morgan Territory Rd. is mostly beautiful, fun, and challenging. Near the top the one-lane road passes several houses; some are modest-looking low-roofed abodes that tastefully blend into the surrounding terrain, but others with their ostentatious whitewashed front side columns and front porch chandelier stand like festering pimples on the tops of the smooth hills.

On a clear winter day, one can see the snow-capped Sierra Nevada on the other side of the San Joaquin Valley. About halfway down, the road rises over a short hump and then drops straight and steeply into a canyon. I achieve my maximum speed here, but the challenge continues at the bottom with several quick turns on very bumpy pavement. I remember the first time I descended this hill on my old bike and how the furious shaking from the rough road blurred my vision at the bottom of the hill.

At Manning Rd. we regroup, and Brent snaps a picture of the three of us struggling into a headwind. From here to the tract mansions of Blackhawk we use the headwind as an opportunity to practice paceline skills. At Camino Tassajara and Blackhawk Rd., we stop for a food break. Jude and I eat food we packed along, Brent ventures into the nearby Food Mart, but Rich gets the “Frank Award” for passing under the Golden Arches and coming out with a sandwich and fries.

After resting we continue up Blackhawk Rd. and then begin the long climb up South Gate Rd. into Mt. Diablo State Park. Fortunately, the air is cool, but the sun beats warmly against the south-facing hillside. We regroup at the park entrance and continue to The Junction. The Junction marks the halfway point of the ascent to the summit, which from here is some 1700 feet and 4.5 miles away.

We each climb at our own pace. I reach the summit first, and about 8 minutes later, Jude reaches the top followed by Brent and Rich about 2 minutes after Jude. To challenge myself I manage to do the entire climb without shifting into a gear lower than 41 gear-inches. I almost regret this decision as I struggle up the very steep hill at the top followed by a line of cars.

At the top we ask someone to take a picture of the four of us standing in front of the summit plaque. Brent, Jude, and I climb up to the observation deck while Rich watches the bikes. The view is not as good as I had hoped: the air is damp with humidity, though to the east I can just make out a thin strip of bright white near the horizon marking the snow line of the Sierras.

Traffic, poorly-banked turns, broken pavement, and road debris prevent a speedy descent from the summit. After regrouping once again at The Junction we continue down North Gate Rd. For the next 3 miles, the road surface is smooth, and between alternating hairpin turns speeds faster than 30 mph are comfortable.

After regrouping at Oak Grove Avenue, we continue through suburbia toward the Walnut Creek BART station. When we reach Ygnacio Valley Rd. and Main Street, Jude and I both decide we’d rather ride home carefully in the dark with full stomachs than race in twilight with empty stomachs, so we head downtown looking for a quick snack. We find a Subway sandwich shop nearby, and after we each eat a foot of sandwich, we return to the BART station, our hunger sated.

Unfortunately, we have just missed a westbound train, so we have to wait another 20 minutes. The trip back to Union City seems to pass quickly as the conversation moves from lighting systems for our bikes to the pros and cons of taking vitamin supplements.

When we exit in Union City, it is dark. We decide to take the most direct route to the Dumbarton Bridge. Since Jude and Rich have the brightest lights, Jude leads followed by me and Brent and Rich.

Riding the frontage road to the eastern approach of the Bridge in the dark is a strange experience. Gusty northwest winds buffet us from the right, forcing us into a staggered line for maximum wind protection. Rich’s light casts grotesque bars of light on the roadway creating an illusion that we’re not really moving but that we’re all held captive on some diabolic treadmill.

We return to Palo Alto via Willow Rd. On the west side of US-101, Jude and I stop at a gas station before my bladder bursts; I really did overdo the hydration on this ride. Brent and Rich still have another 15 miles to ride, so they continue on. Jude and I return to the Cultural Center via side streets.

Ride stats:

distance: 101.7 miles

climbing: 6570 feet

Total time: 13:14

Riding time: 7:31

Average Speed: 13.5 mph

Maximum speed: 45.0 mph

index: 128

irp: 10

mirp: 17

climbing density: 65

climbing ratio: 0.0122

An article on indexing can be found here.

©2004, Bill Bushnell

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