- Joined
- Jul 14, 2004
- Location
- Oakland
- Moto(s)
- ...between bikes
- Name
- Heather
- BARF perks
- AMA #: 1028914
I had planned a visit to Tahoe for the weekend and was tempted to take the Ducati, but I used to live in the mountains and was skittish about the possibility of spring storms in the passes, so I decided to keep my beloved garaged and opted for the cage instead. Last minute-ish I tossed the Trek in the back of the hatchback and took off. I scurried to make it to the bicycle shop for a new rear tire and a pair of socks. I had forgotten to pack any and my tire was suffering from a slow, imperceptible leak. I grabbed both at the shop and hit the freeway.
Saturday morning I woke up and took care of the tire. I checked out my gear, too. I realized that in addition to having no clue as to where I might be going, I was lacking a sports bra. Off I went into town, Tahoe City, to get my undergarment and hopefully some feedback on a good road ride route. I was without a computer and hadn't had any luck in finding anything online when I was down in the Bay.
I found a hiking store that carried what I needed, and I asked about going to Emerald Bay. I was told that it was essentially flat and maybe 15-20 miles out. The clerk told me that there was a great bike path for part of the way so that I wouldn't have to be on the highway the entire time. "Perfect!" I thought...
Sunday I woke up at 7:30 a.m. It was "brisk." I had only brought shorts with me so I waited until the sun was up a bit more. At about 9:45 I bundled up and took off. I stopped in Tahoe City to check out my route.
Five minutes later I was on my way down 89 to Emerald Bay...
I immediately noted that the bike path wasn't exactly what I'd call "ideal." Tahoe hadn't exactly been maintaining the bike path over the winter.
Yeah. That's snow. A lot of it. And underneath all those needles somewhere is a bike path.
Screw it. I got on the highway and did my best to use the 6" shoulder when I could. Cars were actually really cool for the most part. Nearly all of them slowed up and gave me plenty of room. From what I could tell only the locals with cow dogs and beat up Fords with bumpers held on by baling twine would strafe me a bit too closely.
I pedaled on and was noticing that my ride was not flat. It wasn't steep, but it certainly wasn't a cruise by the water's edge. I was noticing the elevation, too. Small climbs that I might normally attack as an easy warm-up down in Oakland were having my quads for breakfast up here. Still, the sun was on my face, the scenery was incredible, the air was scented with pine. I couldn't believe I practically had the road to myself. There was a notable lack of other cyclists, however, and I wondered if they knew something I didn't.
On I went and the terrain became more rugged and breathtaking...and steep.
My bucolic ride in the hills had become a mountainous grind. This little hill just went on and on and on... it looks benign, but trust me, it's a vengeful bitch that just won't quit. The only good thing about this hill was that I also got to come down it.
Around every corner was a photo opportunity, but I forced myself to only stop once in a while. I had a destination and wanted to reach it so that I could come home in time for lunch.
I was starting to get a little worried at this point actually. I'd been riding for what felt like quite a ways and didn't see anything that indicated that I might be getting close to Emerald Bay. I saw lots of signs for other Bays--apparently there's one every few miles along the shoreline. Meeks Bay, Rubicon Bay...none of them were my Emerald Bay.
Finally I crested the long set of climbs and noticed more cars and wider lanes. I figured I had to be close....and there it was! The photo doesn't do it justice. I tried hiking with my bicycle over my shoulder a little bit, but cleats on slick rocks aren't a good combo. I settled for this spot as proof that I'd conquered it.
(to be cont'd...)
Saturday morning I woke up and took care of the tire. I checked out my gear, too. I realized that in addition to having no clue as to where I might be going, I was lacking a sports bra. Off I went into town, Tahoe City, to get my undergarment and hopefully some feedback on a good road ride route. I was without a computer and hadn't had any luck in finding anything online when I was down in the Bay.
I found a hiking store that carried what I needed, and I asked about going to Emerald Bay. I was told that it was essentially flat and maybe 15-20 miles out. The clerk told me that there was a great bike path for part of the way so that I wouldn't have to be on the highway the entire time. "Perfect!" I thought...
Sunday I woke up at 7:30 a.m. It was "brisk." I had only brought shorts with me so I waited until the sun was up a bit more. At about 9:45 I bundled up and took off. I stopped in Tahoe City to check out my route.
Five minutes later I was on my way down 89 to Emerald Bay...
I immediately noted that the bike path wasn't exactly what I'd call "ideal." Tahoe hadn't exactly been maintaining the bike path over the winter.
Yeah. That's snow. A lot of it. And underneath all those needles somewhere is a bike path.
Screw it. I got on the highway and did my best to use the 6" shoulder when I could. Cars were actually really cool for the most part. Nearly all of them slowed up and gave me plenty of room. From what I could tell only the locals with cow dogs and beat up Fords with bumpers held on by baling twine would strafe me a bit too closely.
I pedaled on and was noticing that my ride was not flat. It wasn't steep, but it certainly wasn't a cruise by the water's edge. I was noticing the elevation, too. Small climbs that I might normally attack as an easy warm-up down in Oakland were having my quads for breakfast up here. Still, the sun was on my face, the scenery was incredible, the air was scented with pine. I couldn't believe I practically had the road to myself. There was a notable lack of other cyclists, however, and I wondered if they knew something I didn't.
On I went and the terrain became more rugged and breathtaking...and steep.
My bucolic ride in the hills had become a mountainous grind. This little hill just went on and on and on... it looks benign, but trust me, it's a vengeful bitch that just won't quit. The only good thing about this hill was that I also got to come down it.
Around every corner was a photo opportunity, but I forced myself to only stop once in a while. I had a destination and wanted to reach it so that I could come home in time for lunch.
I was starting to get a little worried at this point actually. I'd been riding for what felt like quite a ways and didn't see anything that indicated that I might be getting close to Emerald Bay. I saw lots of signs for other Bays--apparently there's one every few miles along the shoreline. Meeks Bay, Rubicon Bay...none of them were my Emerald Bay.
Finally I crested the long set of climbs and noticed more cars and wider lanes. I figured I had to be close....and there it was! The photo doesn't do it justice. I tried hiking with my bicycle over my shoulder a little bit, but cleats on slick rocks aren't a good combo. I settled for this spot as proof that I'd conquered it.
(to be cont'd...)
