Sunrise Ride up Mt. Diablo and More

Bill Bushnell — Sunday, January 30, 1994

Co-conspirators Gardner Cohen, Paul Liu, Stella Hackell, Rich Feldman, and Pete Petroski and I slip out of the cold Lucky supermarket parking lot at the Green Valley Shopping Center at 4:50 on our way to the summit of Mt. Diablo. The temperature is 32F, and the air is damp with clinging valley fog.

We are passed several times by expensive cars as we climb the moderate grade of Diablo Rd. toward Blackhawk. What are these people doing up at such an early hour? The unspoken answer is “heading home from parties or bars...” We turn left at South Gate Rd. and descend briefly through a residential neighborhood before starting the climb. Just after we pass from the trees, we come upon a locked gate. I explain to everyone present that we are technically breaking the rules by proceeding up into the state park, which is closed until 8:00, well after sunrise.

After dousing our headlamps, we all continue. The air seems almost warm (43F) as we climb the exposed hillside under a very bright moon. Riding toward the rear I look up the road to see a series of small bright red blinking taillights of the lead members in our group rounding the next hairpin turn.

A couple of miles later we approach the entrance station. The little guard hut is lit up, but no one is present. The ranger’s residence is dark and quiet. We continue past very quietly. As I think of Sam and Frodo passing under the eyes of the Watchers as they cross into the land of Mordor, I half expect a klaxon to sound as I pass by the hut. But everything remains quiet.

We ride out of range of the lights and continue up the road, darker now with tall trees on either side. We regroup a half-mile from the entrance station. We must still ride quietly as there may be campers sleeping in the campgrounds ahead.

As we near the Junction, a slight breeze picks up. I startle thinking that a car is up ahead on the road. Then I realize it’s just the wind. I wait up for Rich who decides to stop for a bite to eat. It’s a little after 6:00, and the blackness of the eastern sky is just beginning to show a tinge of dark blue. Rich tells me to ride ahead.

An owl hoots from a nearby power pole. I can see it in the moonlight. I’m tempted to try for a picture, but then I realize my camera has only a wide-angle lens, and the owl, barely within flash range, would be nothing but a speck on the negative.

I continue climbing alone. Just as I begin to get hungry and reach for a Powerbar, the grade steepens. A strong gust of wind sends a large tumbleweed chasing after me. I startle, thinking at first that some nocturnal creature has given chase. “Are there wild pigs in the park?”, I wonder.

The climb up the last switchback to the east above the Juniper Campground is into a strong gusty wind. The eastern sky is orange, and I can make out a good 200 miles’ worth of the Sierra Crest some 100 to 200 miles away. The San Joaquin Valley lies quiet, blanketed with a dense layer of fog, like a layer of soapy froth coating a recently drained bathtub.

I stop at the Devil’s Elbow switchback to make a parabola. The treacherous wind blows from several different directions, requiring me to stop my flow several times (How tight is your string?) and perform a demonic dance as I turn first one way and then another in a partially successful attempt to remain upwind of the exiting liquid.

I manage to stay in my middle ring (46x30) as I climb the final 200 yards to the summit parking lot. Gardner, Paul, and Stella have taken shelter in an alcove of the observation building. The time is 6:47.

We climb the stairway and take refuge in the indoor observation platform while we wait for Rich. Even through the scratched and dirty windows the view from the top of the mountain is incredible. The air to the east and south is clearest, while to the north and west the air is turbid.

Photo 1. (left to right) Rich Feldman, Stella Hackell, Gardner Cohen, Paul Liu, Pete Petroski, Bill Bushnell

We remain at the summit for over an hour as we enjoy the sunrise, take many pictures and marvel at the view. The stingy coin-operated telescopes give only a minute or two of viewing time for 25 cents. As the sun rises the mountain casts its distinctive shadow against the haze to the northwest.

Photo 2. Sunrise to the southeast on Mt. Diablo.

For the descent we put on all our clothes. Gardner and I are prepared for the worst. Despite our layers of clothing we are chilled to the bone by the time we reach the entrance station at the bottom of North Gate Rd. A finger of thick valley fog has sneaked into Walnut Creek, and our trip into town along Ygnacio Valley Rd. is not fun.

We plan to stop for breakfast somewhere. I have resolved not to stop at Denny’s and prefer not to dine at a greasy spoon specializing in spam, eggs and spam. No sooner do we begin passing restaurants when the first one is Denny’s. Gardner calls out, but I ignore him. Will we stop at the McDonald’s? Certainly not! We continue to Main Street and turn left. We pass a Sizzler. I hear some grumbling as we continue past. We pass a Lyon’s, and the grumbling becomes an outright protest. With a sigh I give in and lead the group back to Lyon’s for a heavy breakfast to match the weighty discussion of where to ride afterward.

Eyebrows raise and eyeballs roll as we enter the restaurant. Only if my gray sweatpants were emblazoned with “Contra Costa County Jail” would I feel more out of place. The restaurant is filled with mostly graying retirees, many dressed in their Sunday best. The manager asks us if we are starting out for a ride. When I tell her we have just come from the top of Mt. Diablo and had started at 4:30, she is speechless. Though she is dressed more formally then the other restaurant help and wears bright red, inch-long manicured fingernails, she tends personally to our table several times during the meal.

I order the stack of four pancakes and a side order of hash browns. Since I am hungry, the food tastes good, and I eat it all even though the pancakes are spongy and gluey and the hash browns are soaked in oil and salt. We all get Frank awards.

During breakfast we decide that all of us will ride back to the cars at Danville. Gardner and I had originally planned to ride Marsh Creek Rd. and Vasco Rd. to Livermore, but when we saw how thick and damp the fog was on Ygnacio Valley Rd. we decide to find a more pleasant route through the Livermore Valley that avoids any major climbs.

After breakfast we take Danville Blvd. back to Danville. We ride quietly and at a moderate pace, allowing our digestive systems time to assimilate the Calories.

When we get to Danville the fog has lifted. Pete has driven himself from Foster City and elects to return home. Paul and Rich elect to drive Gardner’s car back to my house, and Gardner, Stella, and I decide to continue on an extended tour through the Livermore Valley before riding back to Palo Alto across the Dumbarton Bridge.

After a brief episode of deja vu along Diablo Rd. we turn right on Camino Tassajara and continue through Blackhawk and onto Highland Way. We continue to Manning Rd., North Livermore Ave, Mayschool Rd., and others that pass through the northeastern part of the valley. At Vasco Rd. we head south, cross I-580, and turn right on South Front Rd. We continue on 1^st Street through downtown Livermore and stop at the Togo’s on Railroad Ave. At Gardner’s recommendation, next time we’ll try Hilda’s Deli a little further down the road.

After lunch we continue on Stanley Blvd. reaching 30 mph due to the slight downward slope of the road and the strong tailwinds blowing from the Central Valley. Stanley Blvd. is fun to ride under such conditions. The only downside is riding over the set of obliquely crossing railroad tracks halfway from Livermore to Pleasanton. [The railroad crossing on Stanley Ave. has since been refurbished and is now bicycle safe. Still, care must be taken when crossing the tracks as they run obliquely to the road.]

From Pleasanton we continue on Foothill Blvd. to Sunol and begin the narrow descent through Niles Canyon. Halfway down the canyon we are treated to the sight of a long freight train emerging from Tunnel 1 on the UP rails. Other than the tourist train running on the old SP right-of-way, this is the first time I’ve seen a big train running through the canyon.

At the Union City end of the canyon we move to the Alameda Creek Trail. We stop at a picnic table conveniently placed next to two outhouses. While we relax we see two BART trains pass over Alameda Creek, another freight train head toward Niles Canyon on the UP rails, and an Amtrak train, probably the Capitol, head south on the SP rails. Later I learned that a UP freight had derailed three hours later on the bridge over Alameda Creek and had spilled flaming phosphorous and sulphuric acid into the water. What a day for trains!

We continue on the Creek trail and exit at Ardenwood Rd. We ride down Paseo Padre and then take our last break at the San Francisco Bay Wildlife Refuge Center in the Coyote Hills overlooking the bay. We end our adventure by riding over the Broken Glass Bridge (Dumbarton) and through east Menlo Park.

Ride stats:

distance: 100.2 miles

climbing: 5060 feet

total time: 12:20

riding time: 7:00

average speed: 14.3 mph

maximum speed: 33.5 mph

index: 120

irp: 9.8

mirp: 17.2

cd: 50

Frank awards: 6

An article on indexing can be found here.

©2004, Bill Bushnell

Please do not publish or distribute for profit without permission.