Day 1 in California - Mt. Diablo.

Day 1. Madness and Mayhem in San Francisco.

Unfortunately, the climbing wasn't so much.

So, as many of you are aware, Ford sent me to Livermore (outside of San Francisco ) this past week. I took the opportunity to take a few vacation days, and shipped my bike out there ahead of time to my friend Gary, who is out there programming video games for the US Army.

I arrived on Friday, and enjoyed some of Gary's hospitality. On Saturday morning, aided by a time change, I set out early to do a nice 80 mile ride, culminating in an ascent of local Mt. Diablo; which had been recommended to me by some kind folks on the intrawebbiez. Gary printed out the turn-by-turn directions for me, and I began my journey.

Now, turn-by-turn directions aren't always the best. First off, the page gets immediately drenched in sweat; second, sometimes what's listed on your directions as 'Mt. Diablo Road' in actuality is labeled either 'State Route 666' or has no sign at all. So when, about two hours into the workout, I stopped to fix a slipping seatpost, I was passed by a local cyclist, I got a little hopeful. After a minute or two I got on the bike, and turned on the afterburners to catch him.

Fortuitous - he was headed to Mt. Diablo as well. Say goodbye to sopping wet wrong directions; say hello to the tour guide.

He was initially heading slower than I would've liked, but I figured that was a small price to pay for not having to hassle with the 'am I going the right way?' thoughts. He explained that this area was usually pretty dry - which explained the almost complete lack of trees - but had recently seen an inordinate amount of rain, which explained the beautiful, rolling hills; meadow after meadow.

I apologize for the over-exposure.


More Meadows.

After about another hour or so of cycling through some of the most picturesque scenes I'd laid my eyes upon, we started up Mt. Diablo. Unfortunately (for me), my blood sugar was now pretty dangerously low, and now I had trouble keeping up with him. The actual climb wasn't very long, though; only about an hour. I went to the top of a lookout tower and was treated to what allegedly was one of the largest fields of view in the world. One hundred and twenty miles to the east, I could see the towering Sierra ranges; and eighty miles or so to the west, I could see the Pacific ocean.

View from the top; the snow-capped Sierra's are a 'brighter' white on the horizon.