Sierra to the Sea
Ride Report

Sierra Mountains

One hundred and ten cyclists took a journey unique as much for the people who rode as the scenery upon which we gazed: gold towns, redwoods, eucalyptus trees, grapevines, fishing villages, and the Golden Gate Bridge.

I did the trip as a lone blueberry, leaving Louie to his work in Portland. I had the wanderlust to ride at a time when he could not so Liz, Terry and myself drove down to California to ride from the Sierra Mountains to the Sea. As sometimes happens just when it is most inconvenient I came down with a sore throat and cough. I saw the doctor in Portland right away getting antibiotics but to no avail. We had to stop in Redding California on the way to San Francisco for me to find a doctor and get more medicine because I was still running a fever after 4 days on antibiotics. This doctor was a mountain bike racer so he loaded me up with a full sack of medications and sent me on my way telling me that I could ride, but to do the ride early and then rest every afternoon.

Old Gold Mining Town

I started the ride the first day with a temperature that matched the temperature of the air, 100 degrees. I did the short route and had to walk a bit just to rest. Leo, who was from Russia, rode up beside me, introduced himself, and decided that he should take care of me. He came to the US in the 70’s. I told him how happy I was that he was here. He was happy to be in the United States and told me that he could not ride a bike in Russia. I learned all about the people and all about how difficult it is for them there. I hope the situation improves for the people in Russia. At the end of the first day, the guy who loaded my baggage each day wanted to help me with my tent. He brought me water and kept checking on me. He told me all about his dogs whom he loves dearly. He is a big guy but his little dogs clearly boss him around! I rode 59.7 miles with 4500 feet of climbing to get from the Gold mining town of Columbia to the St. Sava Mission in Jackson.

Day two took us through much of the same type of terrain, brown hills with scrubby trees. We rode to the town of Folsom made famous by the Johnny Cash song about the prison there. I tried to visit the prison but they chased me away and probably r ightly so. After seeing Alcatraz some months earlier I have become fascinated with prisons for some odd reason. I rode most of the day by myself so that I could ride at an easy pace. I had one flat. While fixing it, I was kept company by a husband and wife from Bend Oregon who stopped to make sure that I would not be alone by the side of the road while I changed it. That night we camped in a park with the championship little league baseball game for entertainment. I did 50 miles of riding with 2500 feet of climbing.

On day three I climbed on the back of His Majesty the Blackberry, Terry’s tandem, to do the first part of the ride that would take us to Lake Solano. We rode along the American River bike bath. It was over 30 miles in length and criss-crossed its way along until it got us to Old Sacramento. I was happy I was on the back of the tandem because I surely would have gotten lost had I been by myself. Several times we met other bikers coming from this way or that telling us that it was the wrong way and to try the way they were going now. The strangest thing I saw was Kudzu growing up over one section of trees. I did not know that it had gotten here from the South. It grows two feet a day. Soon it will cover the whole area if something isn’t done about it. The second half of the day I got back on my single bike and drafted off Terry and Liz. It was one hot sizzler of a day. By the time we got into camp I was ready to be doused with water. We slept that night to the call of peacocks brought in to kill the rattlesnakes. Only problem is that now they have both peacocks and rattlesnakes wandering about. The peacocks make such a racket that many a hot and cranky cyclist was having visions of fried peacock for dinner and breakfast. I finished day three with 80 miles and 500 feet of climbing.

On day four, I was beginning to feel better. I decided to do the long ride by myself. It would take me to Calestoga. I met up with Leo again and then met the Professor and Big Jim. The Professor taught school. Big Jim must have weighed 250 pounds but he had no trouble pushing it around on the bike. I was amazed. The Professor and I did some climbing together on Ink Grade. Also on Ink Grade I met up with a group that sort of just buzzed around like a bunch of buzzy bees. They were talking about coming back up to the top of Ink Grade at 4:00 in the morning to take pictures of the sunrise. I knew one thing for sure and that was that I was not going to join them! They were correct in that it was beautiful to look down on the valley below. The last 10 miles into Calestoga were through wine country. That night we had dinner with James, a writer from San Francisco. He took a shine to Liz, but barely tolerated me. That is fine. Not everyone has to like me and I liked him in spite of it. He had dinner with us most nights. He was a very good rider having done the Paris Brest Paris ride in his past. I also got to see the mud that they soak people in at the health spas at Calestoga. I decided that it didn’t look too healthy and did not partake. Yucky mud! I finished the day with 69 miles and 4960 feet of climbing.

Day five took us to Duncan Mills via the Redwoods. I expected to find a geyser in Geyserville but found espresso instead. The redwoods were gigantically beautiful. Reaching to the sky they take 1,000 gallons of moisture from the fog that blankets the area most of the time. That is why they live only in Northern California. Today the air cooled making the ride much more pleasant for us Portlanders. We passed many vineyards prompting the ride group to have a wine and cheese pre-dinner festivity in camp. I got to know Brian and Art better, a father and son riding tandem together. They could really make that thing go! I did 73.4 miles and 2500 feet of climbing.

Not a Bank

On Day six I rode to Olema, stopping in Tomales at the most wonderful bakery for croissants. Mmmmmm. They were delicious. Tomales was another old mining town complete with an old bank building that had letters removed from its facade making it say, "Not a Bank" instead of "National Bank." Today we got Eucalyptus trees. They smell so good. I met up with Leo in time for him to save me from a wrong turn. I rode a bit with Big Jim and friend. I got to know Rich better. He is about 6 feet 4 inches tall and thin. His claim to fame is the amount of food he can consume. He is a legend in his own time! He told me about the time he ate one whole large pizza and went back for a large sandwich after. I would love to feed that guy! It would satisfy the Italian mama in me. I also got to know the brothers, Jerry and Ron, whose father owned a bike shop years gone by. It was a nice day of riding all the way around. I did 44 miles with 2000 feet of climbing.

Golden Gate Bridge


Fishing Boats

Day seven was the absolute best. We rode to San Francisco going over the Golden Gate Bridge. The neatest thing that happened all day was the way that everyone guided me to the proper course whenever I went astray. Leo saved me as usual. So did Vladimir and wife. Then Dianne, who fussed over the maps, saved me too. In the end a woman whom I had not got to know well yet led me to the picnic. I ended the day with 40 miles and 800 feet of climbing.

I thought the ride was well organized. Other than a few minor problems with the maps, I would give it a four blueberry rating. I liked all the people in the Almaden Cycle touring Club. They worked very hard to make this ride happen. I would recommend this ride as one not to miss. You can contact them through their web site at www.actc.org or write to them at Almaden Cycle Touring Club, P.O. Box 7286, San Jose, CA 95150.