New Idria’s siren call leads to new adventures in San Benito County

March 21, 2015

John climbs back to Hwy 25 from Willow Creek Road

John climbs back to Hwy 25 from Willow Creek Road

John Woodfill and I headed south to Paicines on Thursday morning for the second New Idria ride in as many years. It became a tradition in 2003, but a closure of Clear Creek Road by the BLM shut down the ride until 2014 when they re-opened the road with restrictions.

The 114-mile loop, going through Panoche Valley, was pioneered by Bruce Hildenbrand.

We headed into a mild breeze with temps in the mid-40s at 7:50 a.m. and a brilliant sunshine that strained the eyes on this last day of winter. We seem to be doing this ride earlier in the year, mainly due to the drought. Even with the early departure date this would be our warmest ride, temps in the high 70s.

At mile 10.8 we crossed Willow Creek bridge on Highway 25 and took an immediate left onto Willow Creek Road, 112 in the San Benito County registrar of roads. Whether or not it’s still public remains to be seen (I have a question in to the county).

The pavement ended after a mile as we continued on a good dirt road, passing a ranch and several barns next to the road, nobody around.

The sun highlighted brilliant green hillsides and a flat valley where cattle grazed behind barbed-wire fences. Wildflowers put on a show in some locations, but it’s still early. As I looked down I found a clam shell fossil, evidence that this land was once under the ocean.

Willow Creek Road deadend
After about three miles of riding on the undulating dirt road, which varied from smooth to a bit bumpy, we arrived at a fork, the well-used left going steeply uphill at about a 20 percent grade. We saw a road going straight, overgrown with grass, and then noticed a barbed-wire fence across the road.

We didn’t want to risk a potentially long walk ahead, assuming this was Willow Creek Road, probably washed out years ago in the narrow canyon ahead, so we turned around. John noticed a well-worn dirt road going uphill and figured that would take us back to Hwy 25, which it did.

A mile of some fairly steep climbing took us to a ranger station where we saw a parked helicopter, about two miles south from where we turned off at Willow Creek Road. We burned 45 precious minutes on a ride that usually ends just before dark (10 years ago we finished at 6:30 p.m. and left at 8 a.m., so age is catching up).

I thanked my lucky stars I brought a headlight and tail light, as did John.

Rush hour traffic over, we saw only the occasional car. We motored along the relatively flat road, passing Pinnacles National Park and after a mile climb coasted downhill to Old Hernandez Road and hung a left. In a mile we came to the junction with Willow Creek Road, where we had hoped to come out.

San Benito River crossing
Passing private property signs, obviously put there by the land owner, we headed onto the dirt road that follows an alluvial plain created by the once mighty San Benito River, now a healthy creek.

Once again we had to figure a way across the river without getting our feet wet. Using the skills of cave men, we tossed large rocks into the water hoping we could create a stepping-stone path. It worked, sort of.

We continued south on the fine dirt road that follows the San Benito River for another four miles before finding more pavement and riding another four miles or so to Coalinga Road.

From here the road continued through a wide canyon cut by the San Benito River, reminding me of the backside of Mt. Hamilton.

We passed a shuttered ranger station as I began wondering if two water bottles would be enough for this long ride. It wasn’t, but fortunately John brought plenty of GatorAde.

After the climb to the Sweetwater Spring camp with a 14 percent grade, we plunged down and climbed steeply again before the final descent and flat ride to Clear Creek Road, marked as always by the American flag. Nearby Hernandez Reservoir was nowhere to be seen, a victim of the drought.

BLM permits for Clear Creek Road
We had excellent traction on Clear Creek Road, a big improvement over last year when a road grader had just plowed the muddy, wet road.

Clear Creek Road cuts through BLM land in San Benito County.

Clear Creek Road cuts through BLM land in San Benito County.

Last year we saw a couple of off-road motorbikes, but this year we saw nothing. The only sounds we heard were chirping crickets and the trickling Clear Creek.

The road is gated about three miles up. Motorists who pre-register are given a combination to open the gate. After checking with the BLM, I learned that there is no charge for bicycles to use the road. A $5 fee applies only to motorized vehicles. Anyone using the road, cyclists included, must register online.

Summit at 4,450 feet. It's all downhill from here.

Summit at 4,450 feet. It’s all downhill from here.


To break the routine of a long climb up a narrow canyon lined with mine tailings, we rode through Clear Creek at least eight times. At a junction where the road turns steeply uphill to the left we began the challenging 2.6-mile climb to the 4,450-foot summit, with a grade of 10-12 percent and loose dirt.

It went much more smoothly than last year when my rear wheel constantly jammed with mud at the brake bridge (had the brake bridge raised). We reached the summit around 3 p.m., barely halfway into the ride.

The steep road down to New Idria, with some sections of 20 percent, gets worse every year, to the point that I had to walk in numerous sections. We reached the toxic holding pond in one piece and took a left at the junction. Now the road became more civilized, but some sections have become so rutted that more walking was called for.

Panoche hills as seen from high above New Idria.

Panoche hills as seen from high above New Idria.

The hard riding doesn’t end at New Idria, where the lonely rusted out town has only a few buildings standing. No water or facilities of any kind here. Even the friendly pig and its owner are gone.

The next mile of steep descending has become a real test of bike and rider, with insanely deep ruts to negotiate. It was with welcome relief that we reached the better paved road and continued the long ride to Panoche Valley and our one stop at Panoche Inn.

The ride complexion changed dramatically with New Idria behind us. Spectacular views of the distant Panoche hills were replaced by broad vistas of ranchland and grazing cattle. The occasional windmill interrupted the otherwise featureless countryside.

We made good speed with only gentle headwinds on occasion. The road is a patch-quilt of repairs, except one stretch of signed experimental county road. The county tried out a machine that grinds up the old road and immediately uses that material to create the new roadbed. I have no idea about the fate of the project, but it sounds like a great idea.

With about 10 miles to Panoche Inn my inner thigh started cramping. A quick stop to take some Advil and stretch staved off further cramping, and we even picked up the pace with a nice tailwind.

Panoche Inn ice cream treat
Once onto Panoche Valley Road it’s only about four miles of mostly flat riding to the inn. Larry, the owner, who used to live in Menlo Park, served us some cold drinks and we purchased one of their specialties — ice cream in a big sugar cone served by Larry’s wife. It hit the spot!

While we would have liked to hang out at the friendly bar and hear more stories about the area, we had to leave. It was already 5:30 p.m. and we still had 28 miles of riding ahead. A quick calculation told me we would be riding in the dark since the sun set at 7:15 p.m.

Even after 90 miles or hard riding, the last 28 miles has to be the most enjoyable in my years of cycling. There is almost no traffic on a weekday evening and the road winds up and down through oak-covered hills. There’s nothing like riding through cool air and seeing the hills turn hues of gold and brown as the sun sets in the west.

We kept a strong pace back to Paicines riding in darkness on the empty road, arriving at the car at 7:50 p.m. with 119 miles behind us.

Past New Idria ride reports

Route for the New Idria ride

Route for the New Idria ride

Mt. Hamilton a tale of two climbs

March 13, 2015

Wednesday rain cleared the air. By Thursday morning the clouds burned off in Halls Valley.

Wednesday rain cleared the air. By Thursday morning the clouds burned off in Halls Valley.


We usually think of climbing Mt. Hamilton as one long grind to the observatory, an 18-mile celebration of breathtaking scenery, gears and lightweight equipment.

But there’s a dark side to Mt. Hamilton, the eastern climb, which was not designed with horses and telescope equipment in mind.

It’s a serious four-mile grind from Isabel Creek with the last half-mile the hardest at about 11 percent.

Thursday I decided to leave from home and ride to The Junction, the only store between Livermore and San Jose, located at Del Puerto Canyon Road where Hwy 130 meets Mines Road. Then I rode back via Mt. Hamilton.

The only downside is that the wildflowers were not yet ready to show themselves. I saw a sprinkling, but nothing to write home about.

The good news is that from Mt. Hamilton summit the snow-capped Sierra stood out, which is always a sight to behold.

Weather couldn’t have been nicer, with temperatures ranging from the low 50s to the low 70s by the end of the day.

While at The Junction I joined another Ritchey Break Away owner for a mini convention of sorts. As it turned out he and his friends were also headed back my way, and we happened to leave at the same time. They had started at Halls Valley Lake in Grant Ranch park.

As I started the last climb before the big one to the Mt. Hamilton summit I came across one of the riders I saw at the store. I stopped and asked what was up. He had a front flat, but not just any flat because he was riding those fancy tubeless tires.

Now there’s a cautionary tale. I’ve never been a fan of tubeless tires. I asked if he had a spare tube and he said he did, but that it was a major hassle to install it.

I don’t know the reasons, but from what I’ve read about tubeless tires, they’re not easy to mount and they rely on sealant to plug holes. He said he didn’t see any sealant coming out and couldn’t understand what was the problem.

I couldn’t help, so I said I would ride ahead and let the other riders know his situation, which I did. I don’t know the outcome because I made it back to the park before they did.

I do think airless tires have a future, just not the kind he was riding. The ones that look more promising, like Tannus, don’t rely on air pressure, just air gaps in rubber.

However, the lowly tube and tire may remain the best, most reliable way to go until new materials come along. I can fix most anything that goes wrong with a tube/tire: blowouts, puncture vine, glass, etc.

Another cautionary note about the backside of Mt. Hamilton. Your fancy smartphone won’t do much good because there isn’t any cell coverage. There isn’t much traffic either. At least most people driving by will be happy to help.

Rideye offers “black box” evidence video

March 10, 2015
Rideye fits easily on a handlebar or seatpost.

Rideye fits easily on a handlebar or seatpost.

While there are already video cameras suitable for bikes (GoPro, Mobius, Sony), the recently available Rideye, a Kickstarter project, offers “black box” features not found in other cameras.

Is it worth the $200 asking price for the 8GB version? It all depends on what you’re looking for in a camera. If your primary concern is to have evidence video in the event of an accident — the Rideye (pronounced “ride eye”) is the obvious choice.

It’s built like a tank. We’re talking about a CNC 6061-T5 aerospace-grade aluminum body, which can withstand some serious pounding in the event of a crash.

The built-in accelerometer insures that the video up to and including impact will be captured.

Battery life is about 10 hours. While that’s way better than the Mobius (1 hour) or GoPro (2-5 hours), it’s still not long enough for an all-day ride. Battery technology has room for improvement. Electronics can be designed to use less power, but the bigger issue is lithium-ion battery chemistry.

I’ve been using the Rideye and I don’t have any major complaints, just minor ones. First, this is not a light camera. It weighs in at 200 grams (mount included). You’ll notice it has some heft when you pick it up.

Second, the rubber band that wraps around the handlebar may stretch with use. Only time will tell. It’s a clean, simple design, but it may sacrifice durability for convenience. There is some jiggling on the handlebar, but it doesn’t affect the still image, which is sharp and clear 1080p quality.

At 170 degrees, the wide-angle perspective captures everything you need to see.

One feature I really like is ease of use. There is only one button, on top. Press it to start. You’ll see a small red LED start blinking every second when it’s on.

If you want to capture a moment, press the button down. It will capture the current 5-minute segment, as well as the previous and next five minutes.

Otherwise, the video works in an infinite loop, overwriting after 1.5 hours for the 8GB version, every 6 hours for the 32GB model ($250).

Files (.mov) are accessible through a standard MicroUSB cable. You will need to set the date/time in a TXT file, which is easy.

Check out the video sample in hi-res, and you’ll see that parked car license plates are easy to read. It’s a different story with a passing car. License plates in the far left lane can’t be read. Car plates in the same lane to your left may or may not be legible. A lot depends on the lighting and vehicle speed.

Bottom line is that if you’re a daily commuter (ideally 1 hour total daily) you will find the Rideye a useful addition that will only need charging once a week. Owning a Rideye is a lot like wearing a helmet. You won’t need it often, but when you do, it could prove useful in court.

Rideye brings to the forefront another issue with today’s well-equipped cyclist. We have too many doo-dads: camera, bike computer, bell, light. It’s hard to fit everything onto the handlebars.

I’d like to see a device more like a smartphone that serves multiple roles. It’s something for the next inventor to conjure up.

A tree house worth millions

March 8, 2015

Luxury tree house on Granite Creek Road.

Luxury tree house on Granite Creek Road.


What kid doesn’t dream about hanging out in a tree house on a nice summer day? Well, there’s a luxury tree house on Granite Creek Road that takes the cake.

I don’t know who uses it, but they must be privileged souls. Nice work.

Jobst Brandt always preferred riding up Granite Creek Road on return trips from Santa Cruz via Mtn. Charlie Road.

I hadn’t ridden on it in a million years, but I can appreciate why he liked it. It’s a not-too-difficult stair-step climb, with the steepest part coming before the summit, at around 15 percent for a short stretch, but no so long that it’s to be avoided.

Not much traffic and a gurgling creek to listen to on the way up. But where’s the granite?

Hailstones look like snow on Skyline Boulevard

March 2, 2015

Hailstones line a ditch on Skyline Boulevard near Alpine Road.

Hailstones line a ditch on Skyline Boulevard near Alpine Road.


While the East Coast digs out from record snowfalls, here in sunny Silicon Valley we can only offer up some puny hailstones.

I’m glad I missed it Saturday on Skyline Boulevard. Sunday’s weather proved more favorable for riding.

Personal freedom vs. safety obsession

February 26, 2015

A broken crank sent me head-first onto the pavement.

A broken crank sent me head-first onto the pavement.


On the face of it, the bicycle helmet law is a no-brainer. Helmets have saved many lives and prevented concussions, myself included.

I almost always wear a helmet. I say almost because once in a while I like to ride without one, like when I ride a few blocks to the barber shop for a haircut or on an all-day ride over Mt. Hamilton.

There was a time when we didn’t have helmets and those we did have were a joke — the leather hairnets that provided zero protection. Modern materials changed all that in the 1980s.

But it was Jim Gentes and his Giro that really made the helmet “cool” in 1985.

Pretty soon the elite riders started wearing his lightweight, stylish helmet and now the only people who don’t wear helmets are casual cyclists or those who can’t afford them. And…friends of Jobst Brandt.

Jobst famously never wore a helmet and lucky for him he never will. He hated helmets and swore he would never wear one. He didn’t care what others did for their safety. He wanted no part of it.

Jobst argued that helmets make cyclists think they can’t be hurt and thus more prone to taking chances. I’m not sure I buy that notion. He stubbornly believed that his riding skills would keep him safe.

For the most part he was right. It was only later in life when those skills had degraded that Jobst fell and hit his head on Mt. Hamilton (tire blowout). He had other incidents, but they were never serious.

It was Jobst’s choice to not wear a helmet.

Those choices are narrowing. In today’s world the bicycle helmet is one more indication that we have become obsessed with safety. In one Wyoming school an innocent outdoor activity of tag was banned for fear that students would harm themselves. Four-square and tetherball have been eliminated in most school yards.

I can’t tell you how many times people have told me riding a bike is dangerous and I should always wear a helmet. Sure it has its hazards, but so does all outdoor activity. I’m not any more fearful of cycling than I am driving a car, probably less.

While nobody can argue against taking safety precautions, there has to be a limit. Life cannot be lived free of risk.

Old Pedro Mountain Road a recreational gem

February 22, 2015

Old Pedro Mountain Road overlooks the Pacific between Montara and Pacifica.

Old Pedro Mountain Road overlooks the Pacific between Montara and Pacifica.


Old Pedro Mountain Road summit looking north to Pacifica.

Old Pedro Mountain Road summit looking north to Pacifica.


Is it possible that Global Warming has forever changed Pacifica’s weather from foggy and damp to sunny and insanely nice? Sunday’s ride made me think so.

On top of the sunny skies, Frank-Sinatra-blue-eyes Pacific and rugged hills, there’s the Old Pedro Mountain Road rolling over them, one of the finest multi-use trails this side of Paradise.

On today’s ride I set out from the seaside community of Montara and headed across some brief single-track in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area before finding the road and beginning a long but not-so-steep climb to the summit where there’s a view of Pacific and — just barely visible in the distance — the red spires of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I’m told there are miles and miles of trails running along the coastal hills between Half Moon Bay and Pacifica.

If access to the San Francisco watershed ever becomes a reality, this slice of the Pacific coast will easily become one of the finest recreation areas on planet Earth. I’m not exaggerating.

Lake Ranch Reservoir in Sanborn Park. It's so, so, so legal for bikes.

Lake Ranch Reservoir in Sanborn Park. It’s so, so, so legal for bikes.

Yet another bicycle helmet law heads our way

February 20, 2015

Sen. Bill 192 takes away personal choice.

Sen. Bill 192 takes away personal choice.


California Senate Bill 192, submitted on Feb. 10 by Carol Liu (D, 25th District Southern California), amends the California vehicle code to make it mandatory that everyone riding a bicycle wear a helmet, as well as reflective clothing when riding at night.

As it stands now, anyone under age 18 must wear a helmet when riding a bike on public roads. So this bill extends the law to include adults. There is currently no law about wearing reflective clothing while riding a bike at night.

Require helmets while driving
The senator, who happens to be the wife of Michael Peevey, recently retired president of the Public Utilities Commission, mentions safety as the main reason for the law in her press release.

If she’s so concerned about bicycle safety, why not ban cars? In the U.S. they kill more than 30,000 people annually, about 3.5 million people in total.

While we’re at it, let’s have a law requiring drivers wear helmets, as NASCAR racers do. Consider the facts: Among all age groups, motor vehicle crashes were the third overall leading cause of traumatic brain injury (TBI) (14%). When looking at just TBI-related deaths, motor vehicle crashes were the second leading cause of TBI-related deaths (26%) for 2006–2010. CDC

Of course we won’t see any such laws. Why? Because it would inconvenience millions of people who drive to get around.

Bicycles. That’s a different story. They’re toys and they can be regulated with little opposition. The bike lobby, after all, has almost no visibility. How much does the bike industry donate to political coffers? Don’t forget: We have the best government money can buy.

Meanwhile, Sen. Liu comes across as a politician who’s only concerned about the public safety. “Motherhood and apple pie” is hard to oppose.

The inconvenience of wearing a helmet is not an issue for most well-to-do cyclists, who only ride for sport.

It’s a different story for minimum-wage workers who only ride a bike because it’s all they can afford. Reflective jackets? How about a jacket that doesn’t have holes in it.

I for one look forward to the day when we legislate private car ownership out of existence. Believe me that day is coming. The autonomous car will change our lives, for the better.

If you don’t believe it, read my novel, Skidders.

Sign the petition opposing Sen. Bill 192.

Note: Today I rode in “God is my helmet” mode, and will continue to do so until the bill is withdrawn.

Been there done that: San Francisco Watershed inches closer to public access

February 12, 2015

San Francisco watershed. Imagine the possibilities.

San Francisco watershed. Imagine the possibilities.


If you believe what you read in the newspaper, there’s a move afoot to open roads in the San Francisco watershed, but don’t hold your breath. It will be years, maybe decades, before it happens.

The 23,000 acre parcel bordered by Hwy 92 and Interstate 280 is managed by the San Francisco water department, but the federal government and San Mateo County have a say in any move toward public access.

Currently the only way you can go there is on a docent-led tour, legally that is.

Back in 1980 I rode through the watershed with Dave McLaughlin, an indiscretion I will long remember not for getting away with it, but for the beauty of Fifield-Cahill Road and the original Pilarcitos stone dam.

Note that the map says it’s a trail, but don’t be fooled. It’s a fine dirt road and it’s used by maintenance vehicles all the time.

Back then I was working at Palo Alto Bicycles and had just started going on Sunday rides with Jobst Brandt, who had a unique riding style that I immediately found appealing. He had a following of bike racers, for the most part, who also enjoyed riding their racing bikes on dirt roads and trails in the Santa Cruz Mountains.

Jobst rode everywhere, public or private; it didn’t matter. He grew up in Palo Alto at a time when the sight of a bike on a dirt road seemed downright crazy. The mountain bike, even in 1980, had yet to become a fixture.

I had been studying topographic maps of the area and had my eye on riding through the SF watershed, something not even Jobst had attempted. I’m not sure why. Maybe he didn’t want to take a pack of riders into harm’s way.

Dave was more than willing. Still a teenager, he had a special talent on the bike that would take him to numerous victories on the racing circuit. We both knew about Old Cañada Road, which ran behind the Filoli estate, and where we rode on occasion.

I noted on my rides on Hwy 92 a rock quarry near where Old Cañada Road meets 92. The topo map showed a road leading into the watershed. Dave and I headed out from Palo Alto on a beautiful fogless day, probably in the early fall after bike racing season.

It was easy to get over the fence, and once inside we quickly found our way onto Cahill Road. How we wound up at the old Pilarcitos dam is lost in the fog of time. Here was a dam made of bricks nestled in a steep canyon, surrounded by dense stands of cypress, Douglas fir and redwoods.

I recall tall trees with lots of hanging moss. It looked like something out of Jurassic Park. We couldn’t get over the pristine condition of the area, with only an incredibly well maintained dirt road to show that people ever visited here.

From the old dam we made our way past the much larger Pilarcitos Reservoir where we saw the water department’s impressive vacation house and other public works.

At some point the dirt turned to pavement. We didn’t have any idea where we were headed, but we continued north, figuring we would come out near Skyline Boulevard eventually.

That’s exactly what happened. We exited at the north end of San Andreas Reservoir on a fast downhill. As fate would have it, water department officials had just opened the pearly gates (they must have known we were coming) and we quickly sped by onto public roads.

I was so jazzed by the experience that I called the SF water department and asked about bike access. I figured it was a hopeless gesture, to take the high road and ask permission, and I was right. The supervisor said, “If I give you access I’ll have to give every cyclist access.”

When you look at it from the perspective of the SF water department, there is nothing but downside to opening the area. Would you want to have to deal with the public and the inevitable hassles? Of course not.

Public agencies have the burden of making things “safe.” In our litigious society though, there is no such thing as safe. Think of all the items that need to be addressed: parking, enforcement, restrooms, signage, on and on.

I have a different take on open space. Open it and don’t provide facilities. Take down the signs and let people roam. Maintenance crews can enforce.

I recently saw a sign on Overlook Road that winds into the hills above Los Gatos, and it made my day. “Private road. Use at your own risk.”

I just want to ride my bike and enjoy the scenery. That sign is what all private property signs should say. The world would be a better place for it.

Further reading:

Open SF Watershed (Facebook)

It’s never foggy in Pacifica

January 25, 2015

Jim Sullivan shows the way as we stop to admire San Pedro Point and Hwy 1. Faithful Tanga looks on.

Jim Sullivan shows the way as we stop to admire San Pedro Point and Hwy 1. Faithful Tanga looks on.

That was my conclusion Wednesday as I visited the coastal community in San Mateo County, only a 20-minute drive from San Francisco.

On my ride with Jim Sullivan, the patron saint of multi-use trails in the nearby San Mateo County open space, we were drenched in sunshine and warm temperatures.

Jim has been maintaining trails here for more than eight years and in that time he and friends have accomplished a lot, all through volunteer efforts.

I hadn’t ridden in this area for more than 30 years and had only a hazy recollection of how I managed to make it to the Portola site on Sweeney Ridge overlooking the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay. In November 1769 Captain Gaspar de Portola and his expedition discovered the bay from the hilltop. Earlier naval excursions missed the Golden Gate, which is usually shrouded in fog.

Devils Slide
But today our route took us in the opposite direction to the now famous Hwy 1 Devils Slide where a 4,200-foot-long vehicle tunnel opened in 2013 after eight years of digging. The notorious old stretch of road recently opened as a recreation path.

After winding through Pacifica and taking a dirt road uphill, we made our way to the north parking area of the Devils Slide road/trail, then through an open gate onto the original coast highway, called Colma-Half Moon Bay, built in 1879. Bring your mountain bike.

We didn’t stay on the old road for long, opting instead to climb higher onto Pedro Mountain and follow the ridge east before descending the old Highway 57, otherwise known as Old Pedro Mountain Road to today’s trail users. This paved road opened in 1931 and it’s still in pretty good shape, considering its age.

Jim showed me the old Colma alignment from a vantage point near the 1,000-foot summit. “We brushed back the existing trail making sure we stayed on the 100-plus-year-old alignment,” Jim said as he pointed to a barely noticeable cut in the hillside. “It’s a fun ride.” Fun that is if you’re an intermediate to advanced mountain bike rider who enjoys rocky spoors. (It’s not clear to me the exact route of the old Colma Road. It could be the dashed line below our route shown on the map.)

Old Colma Road alignment looking west.

Old Colma Road alignment looking west.

Old Colma Road alignment looking east.

Old Colma Road alignment looking east.


Once on Old Pedro Mountain Road, things became more civilized as we coasted slowly downhill on pavement. Jim pointed to places where his friends cleared out pampas grass, planted native pine trees and removed mudslides. “You’ve go to move it off right after it rains, otherwise it turns to concrete,” he said.

Trail sharing
We came across hikers, equestrians and people walking their dogs, but none of it fazed Jim, who looks forward to trail encounters. “When people know what to expect, they learn how to adapt to other trail users. Equestrians who have trained their horses to be around people have no difficulty.” Jim firmly believes multi-use trails are usually the best way to go on the expanse of publicly owned trails above Pacifica. He also likes using a handlebar bell on high-use trails.

It’s Jim’s mantra at the many public agency trail meetings he has attended over the years. “Pacifica has a lot to offer for trail users,” Jim offers. “Every time cyclists come here and ride they’re blown away by the beautiful views and trails.” I couldn’t agree more.

If you want to get involved:

Friends of Devils Slide Trail
Friends of Rancho Corral de Tierra

Click on map to enlarge

Click on map to enlarge


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 66 other followers