The power of the full moon; or, the first ramble in a while.
Yesterday I had a feeling that, injured knee and lack of fitness or no, I had to go ride up Mount Ashland to see the full moon. There wasn't a whole lot more thinking that went into it than that. I did, of course, take the basic safety precautions: I consulted a detailed forest service map (which I meant to bring with me on the ride, but forgot in the end), made sure I had my tools, an emergency blanket, a bandanna, some trailmix, a full waterbottle, and a long-sleeve shirt.
I left at about 8:15 PM, just as the moon was climbing over the Greensprings to the East. Starting out, I felt like my knee might not be able to handle it, but once I got a mile or so up the gravel part of Tolman Creek Rd., I decided that I might as well keep going, because it would probably be more dangerous to come back down the gravel than the Paved road on the other side. I made it up to the gravel before I needed to turn my lights on, but after that I kept them on most of the time. When Forest Road 2080 turned to the left, and the more traveled Rd. 600, which I've used in the past on a mountain bike, went off to the right, things got steep, and I found myself wondering if this might not be such a good idea after all. Thankfully, it mellowed out after a bit, and I found that 2080, after 600 leaves it, is in pretty good shape, and doesn't have all the braking stutters which make the lower parts kind of lousy. It was also less dusty, I think mostly because the snow melted fairly recently, and there are lots of springs coming out of the hillside.
Once I got higher up, the light of the moon was really bright, so I rode without lights a bit. The road was almost white in the moonlight, and it was pretty smooth, so the going was easy. Near Bull Gap the road actually went down a little bit, and it was there that I saw a black bear running away from me in the light of my headlight. I started ringing my bell more often after that. That answered the question that I had been asking myself of late too: "I wonder if there are bears up in these mountains?" Yes. Yes there are.
When I finally got to the ski area road, I was surprised to see how many people where going up the road at 10:30 at night, but someone later told me that there were meteor showers. Some time to see meteors, when the moon is full. I decided not to ride up to the summit, because I didn't want to be a complete idiot, so I buttoned up my shirt, cinched up my bag, and pointed my bike downhill.
What a decent that was! I stopped once to pick up a glow-stick, put on the hat that I found in my bag, and use the bandanna as a scarf. From that vantage point, I could look down onto the lights of cars on I-5 snaking away toward Shasta, and could even see what I believe was the town of Hilt, down in the little valley South of Siskiyou Summit. The rest of the time was spent flying down the hill, which was pretty cold, grâce à a wind blowing up the road. I should have brought gloves, and maybe even worn knickers, but whatever. After the first 17.something-mile climb, which was like 4200 ft. of elevation gain, the rest of pretty much completely downhill, and those are some pretty fine downhills.
I stopped to look at the moon at Emigrant Lake, but only briefly because my legs weren't to stoked to be standing up. When I got home, just after midnight, I could barely stand up, which was hilarious. I haven't ever felt that before, but apparently, this wasn't a good first ride to take after three months of not riding. Live and learn. It was awesome, and I hope to do it in the daytime some time, as I'm sure it would be great that way too. Check out the gps data which I hope works. Ramble on!
I left at about 8:15 PM, just as the moon was climbing over the Greensprings to the East. Starting out, I felt like my knee might not be able to handle it, but once I got a mile or so up the gravel part of Tolman Creek Rd., I decided that I might as well keep going, because it would probably be more dangerous to come back down the gravel than the Paved road on the other side. I made it up to the gravel before I needed to turn my lights on, but after that I kept them on most of the time. When Forest Road 2080 turned to the left, and the more traveled Rd. 600, which I've used in the past on a mountain bike, went off to the right, things got steep, and I found myself wondering if this might not be such a good idea after all. Thankfully, it mellowed out after a bit, and I found that 2080, after 600 leaves it, is in pretty good shape, and doesn't have all the braking stutters which make the lower parts kind of lousy. It was also less dusty, I think mostly because the snow melted fairly recently, and there are lots of springs coming out of the hillside.
Once I got higher up, the light of the moon was really bright, so I rode without lights a bit. The road was almost white in the moonlight, and it was pretty smooth, so the going was easy. Near Bull Gap the road actually went down a little bit, and it was there that I saw a black bear running away from me in the light of my headlight. I started ringing my bell more often after that. That answered the question that I had been asking myself of late too: "I wonder if there are bears up in these mountains?" Yes. Yes there are.
When I finally got to the ski area road, I was surprised to see how many people where going up the road at 10:30 at night, but someone later told me that there were meteor showers. Some time to see meteors, when the moon is full. I decided not to ride up to the summit, because I didn't want to be a complete idiot, so I buttoned up my shirt, cinched up my bag, and pointed my bike downhill.
What a decent that was! I stopped once to pick up a glow-stick, put on the hat that I found in my bag, and use the bandanna as a scarf. From that vantage point, I could look down onto the lights of cars on I-5 snaking away toward Shasta, and could even see what I believe was the town of Hilt, down in the little valley South of Siskiyou Summit. The rest of the time was spent flying down the hill, which was pretty cold, grâce à a wind blowing up the road. I should have brought gloves, and maybe even worn knickers, but whatever. After the first 17.something-mile climb, which was like 4200 ft. of elevation gain, the rest of pretty much completely downhill, and those are some pretty fine downhills.
I stopped to look at the moon at Emigrant Lake, but only briefly because my legs weren't to stoked to be standing up. When I got home, just after midnight, I could barely stand up, which was hilarious. I haven't ever felt that before, but apparently, this wasn't a good first ride to take after three months of not riding. Live and learn. It was awesome, and I hope to do it in the daytime some time, as I'm sure it would be great that way too. Check out the gps data which I hope works. Ramble on!
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