Distance: 16.5 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 1420 ft 

The San Francisco Peninsula has a spine running down its center.  On the east side of the spine is Palo Alto, Silicon Valley, Stanford, and a crush of people.  On the west side is a lot of deep, dark woods, open rolling hillsides sloping to the ocean, and the laid-back hamlets of Half Moon Bay and Pescadero.  It’s one of my favorite areas of California, and the stretch of Hwy 1 along there (Half Moon Bay to Santa Cruz) is second only to Mendocino in my book.  There are few roads on that western slope, but what’s there is great riding.  Bestrides has two rides in the area, this one and Pescadero/Tunitas Creek Road.  P/TCR is a epic adventure; this one is a little jewel.

This is an easy, perfect little rambling climb and descent that winds sweetly through all the classic features of the region: small, hand-tended fields of row crops set off by the local black earth, unpretentious horse or dairy farms, rolling coastal hills, eucalyptus groves, and a few redwoods.  The tiny road’s contour is constantly varied and interesting, the road surface is good, and there’s nothing up there except a few homes and  the largely unknown Purissima Redwoods Open Space Preserve, so you should have the place to yourself.  It rides equally well in either direction (a bit harder clockwise).  The route is one continuous road, but it has a different name at each end—it’s Purissima Creek Rd. at the south end, Higgins Canyon Rd. at the other.  Midway through the ride you pass by the Preserve, a nice place to hike if you brought walking shoes.  It’s a bit under 100 ft of gain per mile, but I promise you it feels even easier than that.

Looking north from mid-ride

The road is a little hard to spot at either end.  If you start at the northern end, the turn from Hwy 1 onto Higgins Canyon Rd. has a fairly prominent sign (which actually reads “Higgins Purissima Road”), but you’re just leaving the greater Half Moon Bay area and the road is divided and busy there, so it’s easy to miss.  Look for it as soon as you clear all town buildings.  It’s just after the fire station.  At the southern end, the road is unhelpfully signed “Verde Rd.” (both as you approach it on Hwy 1 and at the turn-off).  Verde actually takes off from Hwy 1 in two different places.  If you turn onto Verde from the south, a stone’s throw down Verde you hit a T and follow the sign to Purissima Creek Rd. to the L; if you approach it from the north, Verde runs straight onto Purissima with turning.  As you ride, enjoy the various spellings of “Purissima” on the road signs: you’ll see “Purisma,” “Purisima,” and “Purissima.”

Heading up the Purissima Creek valley

One of the delights of this ride is that you can see so clearly what’s going on with the topography.  You start by riding up a flat, pretty little farming valley fed by Purissima Creek.  As the valley ends, you start to climb slightly and soon find yourself riding along the south side of Purissima Creek.  When the road does a 180, it crosses the creek and Purissima Redwoods Open Space Preserve is on the outside of the turn—it’s easy to miss, since it looks like little more than a large dirt parking lot, but there should be cars there and there is an information board with trail maps set back from the road (see below).  Just before the 180 you pass the only redwoods on the ride—about 10—so hug them now.

Heading up the north side of the valley, with the road you rode in on visible below

Once on the north side of the creek, you do the only real climb in the ride, about 1 mile of 5-7% up the north canyon wall to the ridge between Purissima Valley and Higgins Canyon (really a valley) to the north, where the ride ends.  You can see the road you rode in on below you, just across the creek, as you climb.  Once over the ridge, you get 1 mile of sweet serpentine descending the back side, then descend at a more relaxed pace through fine stands of eucalyptus into Higgins Valley and through it back to Hwy 1.  You’re now 3 miles north of where you started.

The ride is short enough to make carrying hiking shoes in a backpack doable, so consider incorporating a walk in the Open Space Preserve into your ride.  There are two routes leaving the parking lot, a singletrack to the left called Harkins Ridge Trail and a large dirt road to the right called Purissima Creek Trail.  The dirt road has by far the better scenery because it follows the creek, and it’s usually in good enough shape that you could ride some of it if you’re set up for dirt.

Grand old eucalyptus

At the end of the ride, you can turn around and ride back the way you came—easy enough to do given the distance and elevation gain, though the 1-mile climb on the north side is a notch steeper, maxing out around 9%—or close the loop by riding a 3-mile stretch of Hwy 1.  Normally I avoid Hwy 1, but here the highway is open, straight, and wide, with a generous shoulder, so cars aren’t a threat.  It isn’t hugely rewarding, but it isn’t a burden.  I have fond memories of that stretch of road, because one day doing this ride I came across hundreds of pairs of new white athletic socks strewn all over the pavement—obviously the result of a lost truck load.

Shortening the route: Ride to the Redwoods Preserve and turn around.  Both sides are equally pleasant.

Adding miles: Tunitas Creek Road, part of the Pescadero/Tunitas Creek Road ride, is the next major road to the south.  The little stuff in between (Lobitos Creek Rd., Lobitos Creek Cut-Off) is also good.  Two cycling curiosities lie to the north:

1) The Half Moon Bay Coastal Trail runs north from Half Moon Bay along the water for over 10 miles, often with the beach and ocean on one shoulder and quaint old beach houses on the other—a completely charming stroll.

2) The Devil’s Slide section of Hwy 1 above Montara has recently been rerouted and the old highway turned into a bike path.  It’s only a bit over 1 mile, but if you’re in the area, riding a cliff section of old Hwy 1 without cars is an experience not to be sneezed at.

I’m no fan of riding Hwy 1, but if you’re dead set on it, the stretch from Half Moon Bay to Santa Cruz offers some rewards.  It’s fairly bland riding for Hwy 1, and not easy—mostly ruler straight with several enormous rollers—but it goes by a non-stop series of spots worth exploring: the unique town of Pescadero, dozens of charming beaches and rocky outcroppings, headlands, Ano Nuevo State Beach and its elephant seals (Dec.-March), Big Basin State Park (ride the Skyline to the Sea Trail if you’re set up for gravel or hike it), Waddell Beach (kite surfing central for the West Coast—stop and gawk), Wilder Ranch State Park, a brewery, a classic lighthouse with an attached hostel if you’re looking to stop over, small row-crop farms where you can buy eggs or pies or pick your own berries, the happening enclave that is tiny Davenport (the food is really good)…the fun never stops.  In Davenport, explore the headlands and beach immediately west of town on foot—they’re remarkable.   Always be prepared for fog and cooler weather, even on the warmest days, and expect wind, usually from the northwest.

Afterthoughts: The town of Half Moon Bay is a low-key charmer worth your time.  The harbor (actually called Pillar Point, a few miles to the north) is still real, and the old main street is a classic—you have to get off the two intersecting highways to find it, so don’t make the mistake of driving the highways and thinking you’ve seen it.  Since the old town is something of a get-away destination for Bay types, the hostelries and restaurants are a cut above what you’d expect.  If you like gardening, the nurseries in the canyon along Hwy 92 are wonderful.

Distance: 36 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 4750 ft

(A Best of the Best ride)

(Note 2021: Lick Observatory is closed due to Covid, though there reportedly is a water refill source near the gate.)

This is a grande dame of a ride, one of the three iconic climbs in the Bay Area—Hamilton, Mt. Tam, and Diablo.  It’s quite long—18.2 miles one way, all but a mile or so significantly up.  It’s much more sustained climbing than either of the other two icons, and it’s considerably over our 100 ft/mile benchmark for climbing difficulty.  Still, it’s easier than the numbers make it look.  When they built the Lick Observatory at the summit, starting in 1876, they needed to haul massive equipment up the road by mule, so they had to make the road at a shallow enough pitch that the mules could handle it.  So it’s a constant 5-7%—not a moment of 8% in the whole 36 miles.  And there are two nice descents along the way up to rest your legs.  Nevertheless, it’s work, just because there’s so much of it. You’ll be climbing, with two brief breaks, for something like 3 hours.

The route is all through pretty East Bay oak-strewn hills, and the road contour is constantly rewarding (endless serpentining) after the first couple of miles.  The vistas of San Jose, the southern end of SF Bay, and lands to the south start out grand and get more incredible as you ascend.  The descent used to be hampered by poor pavement, but the road from the observatory to Grant Park was repaved in 2021 and now it’s all flawless and world-class.  And the observatory at the top is simply fascinating. All in all, a bucket-list ride, marred only by the fact that 16 miles of essentially unaltered 6% climbing gets a little monotonous.

Start at the beginning of Mt. Hamilton Rd., where it takes off from Alum Rock Rd.  The Berryessa BART station will get you within about 4.5 miles of the start (so 9 miles round-trip) and will add c. 400 ft to the elevation gain.  If you drive, there are dirt pull-outs for parking on both sides of Alum Rock Rd. at the intersection, and there is plenty of curbside parking available in front of houses in the nearby neighborhoods.  There is no flat road anywhere nearby to warm up on, but the pitch of Mt. Hamilton Rd itself is mild enough that you can warm up on the climb.   The first couple of miles ascend rather monotonously up a sidehill, but soon the pitch lessens and the road begins to serpentine deliciously, and it will continue to do so to the end of the ride.  When the road surface turns poor, you cross a ridge and get a 2-mile descent to Joseph D. Grant County Park, in a pleasant green valley (during the rainy season) between the hills with trails, campgrounds, bathrooms, and water (there’s a spigot right across from the money collection kiosk at the entrance).   It’s a nice place to kick back and eat your PB and J.  They’re supposed to charge you $6, but they might let a bicycle pass.  The water is free in any case.

After Grant the road surface goes back to flawless and the serpentining gets even better.  The road will get steadily curvier as you ascend until in the last miles before the observatory it’s practically comical.  There is a spot very near the turn-around where you can see below you ten distinct segments of Mr. Hamilton Rd. at once (counting the one you’re standing on).

After a second little descent drops down to a bridge, the rest of the ride is more of the same, now with frequent glimpses of your destination, the Observatory, on the summit ahead of you.

Lick Observatory, your destination, in the distance

The Observatory itself is fascinating, so definitely plan at least a couple of hours there when it reopens. There are exhibits on the old telescope and how it was built and transported up the mountain, the telescope itself (straight out of Jules Verne), a charming inner courtyard where I love to sit and breathe the negative ions from the water fountain, and a gift shop.

The Observatory is very bike-friendly.  Continue on through the parking lot around to the right and you’ll find a bike rack, a sign reading “Please remove or cover cleats,” and a door to good bathrooms, a Coke machine, and a drinking fountain.   The fountain even has a water-bottle-friendly spout.  Go straight through the second door to get to the courtyard.

The Observatory (when it reopens) will have irregular hours if the past is any indication, so check visiting hours if you’re interested, but the restrooms, drinking fountain, and Coke machine should be open 8-5 daily.

The ride back varies from good to great.  The first couple of miles are too twisty to be unqualifiedly joyful.  You’re on your brakes most of the time, often hard on them, you’ll do a lot of 9-mph corners, and you can’t sustain any rhythm.  Then the road straightens out just a little, and that makes all the difference—it’s excellent for the three miles to the bridge.  After the short climb, the descent to Grant Park is my favorite descending section on the route—the curves are large enough and sweeping enough that you can sustain a lot of speed, and gentle touches on the brakes will suffice.

Much of the descending is high drama thanks to two factors: 1) on your L you have what seems like the entire world open before you, enormous open spaces and precipitous drop-offs, and 2) Santa Clara County has apparently decided it has better things to do with its money than install guard rails, because there are none.  One missed right-hander and you’re dead.  Mount Diablo and Mt. Tam have no drop-offs worth mentioning and thus can’t compare in sheer fear factor.

Which of the three iconic rides has the best descending?  I can’t say—they’re each outstanding in their own way.

After the moderately long climb out of Grant, the serpentining continues for a mile or so, and it’s actually some of the best descending on the route, because you’re crossing the top of the ridge so the pitch is gentler and you can attack it harder.  The last miles are tamer, straighter, but still good, and on any other ride they would be praise-worthy, but by then the descending bar has been raised so high they feel routine.

By the way, both climbs on the return are more than mere bumps, but they’re mellow and nothing to fear, even with tired legs.

Shortening the route: Start at Grant Park.

Adding miles: The Sierra Road ride is a stone’s throw to your north.  A short car trip to the south is Metcalf Rd., made famous in the 2013 Tour of California as the last 3K of the time trial.  It’s a lot like Sierra, a seriously steep climb people ride for the glory of it.

A lot of people who ride Mt. Hamilton do it as part of a long semi-loop: ride BART to Berryessa, ride to Mt. Hamilton Rd. and up to the Observatory, then just keep on going, down the back side of the mountain to Mines Rd. and the Dublin BART station.  This route is frequently ridden in the opposite direction.  Either route takes you right past the turn-around spot of our Del Puerto Canyon Road ride.  This is the dry side of the mountain, so the landscape is stark.

Afterthoughts: East of San Jose in summer is HOT, and, while you are riding past oaks, they don’t canopy the road, so it’s an exposed ride.  Try to avoid summer afternoons, carry a lot of water and food, and refill your water bottles at Grant and the observatory.

Distance: 15 miles one way
Elevation gain: 1460 ft

(A Best of the Best ride)

This is one of my favorite rides, in part because it’s less well-known (and so less trafficked) than the nearby icons (Diablo, Hamilton).   It has an absurdly pleasing profile: a mellow gently rolling warm-up through picturebook hobby farms, a just-long-enough, just-steep-enough stair-step climb up through dense woods, followed by a Best-of-the-Best descent that will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

It’s one of a trio of East Bay rides that are similar in general contour: Palomares, Calaveras, and Morgan Territory.  They’re all about-five-mile climbs, at first gentle, then moderate, up through pretty wooded canyons along creeks.  To tell them apart: Palomares is the simplest and has the most domesticated ambiance; Calaveras is the easiest (though none is Mt. Diablo hard), has no backside descent, has the best open hillside views, is the only one of the three that has great riding contiguous to it, and is ridable only on weekends (because of car traffic); and Morgan Territory has the roughest and narrowest pavement (though not as rough since a recent resurfacing), the best isolation, and the best backside descent.   Morgan Territory’s pavement used to be poor on the north side of the summit, which didn’t bother the ascent but put a damper on coming back down that way.  Thankfully, in recent days perhaps a third or one half of the north side has been resurfaced (Spring 2023—thanks, David) making riding the north side of MTR as an out-and-back a real possibility.  See details in Shortening the Ride below.  If you’re riding on a weekend and are just going to ride to the summit and back, do Calaveras or MTR.  If you want to climb to a summit, descend the back side, then turn around and ride back, do Palomares.  And if you’re in for a bigger adventure (or a BART ride), do Morgan Territory.

Start at the intersection of Morgan Territory Rd. and Marsh Creek Rd.    Roll for a few miles through said hobby farms.  In about 4 miles you shift from hobby farm valley to a narrow creek canyon lined with pretty oak woods.  A sign reads “one-lane road next 6 miles”—yum.  The climb has a wonderful variety in the beginning.  No pitch lasts longer than 100 ft.  You never get bored or tired, and you’re deep in the trees so it’s shady and quiet and wonderful.  The ups get steeper as you go, and the last 2+ miles is steady, fairly hard work. If you meet more than one or two cars, alert the media.

The north side of Morgan Territory Road

After the mild but obvious summit you ride past a little settlement of four or five houses, then fasten your seat belt because you’re about to spend some time at speed.  From here on out the road surface is glass.  The descent is in two parts.  The first part switchbacks steeply down off the hilltop.   This part tests your 40-mph cornering ability.  You may well meet a car here, but you can see the road well ahead of you, so you should get warning.  At the bottom, the road turns R and straightens out and you think the excitement is over, but it isn’t.  The road drops faster than you think, so you can hold 35 mph or more, and the contour, instead of going back and forth, now goes up and down like a wavy slide at a funhouse, with a few curves thrown in.  It’s unique in my experience, and literally breath-taking.   You finally roll out, spent, and dead-end at Manning Rd.

The back-side descent is completely different

There are a number of ways to get to and from this ride, none of them particularly easy.  If you want to do a loop, you have two choices, both involving a lot of miles.   1. The southwest loop, which I know (I’ll describe it from the end of the ride, but you can begin it anywhere), is to go R on Manning, R on Highland, R on Tassajara when Highland dead-ends, L and under 680 when Tassajara ends, R on Danville Blvd. to Main St. of Walnut Creek, R on Ygnacio Valley Rd. (it’s huge and the traffic is truly life-threatening—there are signs telling cyclists to ride on the sidewalk) for far too long, then R on Clayton Rd., which becomes Marsh Creek Rd., which leads to Morgan Territory Rd.  Some of this is pleasant country riding through grassy hillocks and farms, and some of it is downright unpleasant.   2. The loop I don’t know is to go the other way and loop back to the east and north: from Morgan Territory Rd. work you way over to Vasco Rd. and go L on Camino Diablo, which becomes Marsh Creek Rd.  It looks good on a map, but I’ve been advised not to do it because the traffic is intense (see comment below).

More north side

I loop the ride via BART (see the introduction to the Bay Area region).  I BART to Concord and ride Concord Blvd, which turns into Oakhurst Dr., which runs into Clayton Rd, which becomes Marsh Creek Rd, which takes you to Morgan Territory Rd.   You could BART to Walnut Creek, but then you end up riding out Ygnasio Valley Rd., which is a deathtrap.  From Concord you could ride directly out Clayton Rd., but Concord Blvd. is much, much quieter—almost pleasant in fact.   However you go, getting to Morgan Territory Rd. isn’t easy—from the intersection of Oakhurst and Clayton to MTR you will climb 1000 ft.

From the end of MTR I go R on Manning, R on Highland, L on Tassajara, R on Dublin Blvd., and L down a side road following signs to the BART station—watch for the BART sign as you approach Dougherty—for a total of 43 miles.  This leg varies from pleasant country riding (Highland) to boring mega-mall with good bike lane (Dublin). A reader recommends taking Collier Road off Highland instead of continuing on to Tassajara, which I haven’t tried, but it won’t save you any miles.

Shortening the route: From either end of MTR, ride up to the summit and back.  The north side is twice as long (10 miles one way), more wooded, and much curvier; the south side is shorter (5 miles one way), straighter, steeper, with open grassy hills, and with a much faster descent.  The south side pavement is pristine; the north side has been recently cheaply repaved over 1/3 or 1/2 its surface, which means 1/2 to 2/3 of the road surface remains OK to poor.  It’s definitely rideable, and at times thrilling, but it will be no one’s favorite descent.  Coming down, the first 2 miles are too steep, too twisty, and too full of totally blind corners you can’t safely cut (you will meet at least one car, I promise) to be much fun.  After that the road straightens and levels out just enough to be a real hoot for the next 3 or so miles.  Then you roll home.  The way the new pavement comes and goes is annoying.  Come on, County Road Department, pave the whole thing, for heaven’s sake.

Adding miles:  There’s nothing I’’m keen to ride near either end of this ride.  You’re a few miles from the Mt. Diablo ride—Loop #1 above takes you almost past the front door.

Distance: 24.4 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 3580 ft

(A Best of the Best ride)

Mt. Diablo is another of the three iconic Bay Area climbs.  It’s less tranquil than Mt. Hamilton and less scenic than Mt. Tam, but it’s grand nonetheless.  No other ride gives you such a distinct sense of “climbing a mountain.”  It’s a long climb but never brutal until the last 100 yards.  It’s an iconic ride, and there isn’t a serious cyclist in the Bay Area who hasn’t done it, many times.  The view from the top is a tourist attraction, and for good reason—they say on a clear day a person looking north and east can see further than from any other spot on the planet except Kilimanjaro.  OK, that turns out to be a myth perpetrated by real estate developers—it’s not even the biggest view in California, Mt. Whitney’s being much larger—but you can see bits of 40 of the 58 California counties, you can see the mountains around Lake Tahoe, and you can see rock formations in Yosemite.  That’s pretty cool.

That being said, it’s not a ride I do for the scenery, though some love it.  The foliage is standard East Bay hill shrub and grass, and the vistas, while large, are mostly of East Bay urban sprawl.  There are nice wildflower blooms in season.

The ride is approachable from the north, via North Gate Rd., or the south, via South Gate Rd., and they’re both supposed to be good routes—the north route being steeper and shadier—but the south route is the preferred one and it’s the only one I’ve ever done, both ascending and descending.  The first half of the descent (from the summit to the Ranger Station) is as good as anything you’ll ever do—if you manage the traffic.

Mt. Diablo, as much as any ride in Bestrides, is affected by traffic.  Diablo is a magnet for tourists, hikers, mountain bikers, and rock climbers—and their cars.  On summer weekends, the place is a zoo.  If you were ever going to get up early and be on the bike by 7 am (or call in sick and ride on a weekday), this is the time.  In the early morning it’s like the road is closed to cars…and in fact it may well be, since there’s a gate across the road that’s typically closed at night (the park “opens” at 8 am). Riding this ride with no or very few cars triples the pleasure, and changes the descent from good to grand.   Despite the crush, the hill is very bike-friendly—there are signs at most blind curves reading “Do not pass bikes on blind curves,” for instance.

There is also the weather to consider.  The summit can be foggy, windy, and cold even when the weather at the base is benign.  The last time I rode Diablo, it was sunny, still, and 67 degrees at the bottom and 47 degrees, with a blasting wind and freezing white-out fog, at the top.   I took more clothes than I thought I’d need, and still froze.    This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ride in such conditions—cold and fog keep the car tourists and hikers away, so on that 47-degree day I never saw a car in my lane during the entire descent.   If the view from the summit is important to you, you want to wait for clear air.  That’s hard to find in the East Bay.  Your best bets are a clear day in winter, the day after a storm, or when it’s breezy, which brings its own problems. Of course the better the view from the summit, the worse the traffic.

There are frequent bathroom opportunities, since many of the campgrounds lining the road have facilities, and water at the summit as well as the entrance gate.

If you ride Diablo in the late summer or fall, you’ll see lots of male tarantulas wandering the road looking for mates, since it’s tarantula breeding season.

You can get to the bottom of the mountain in many ways.  If you drive to the base of the hill, there is a fair amount of grassy shoulder parking along Mt. Diablo Scenic Boulevard, with signs inviting you to use it, but I’d imagine all the spaces would be taken on an ordinary weekend morning.  One way is to ride BART to Dublin if you want to get in around 10 miles of mostly flat, quiet grassland riding before starting to climb.   Another is to BART to Walnut Creek, ride south on the main street until you can cross under Hwy 680 to Danville Blvd. paralleling 680, and ride Danville Blvd., a popular cycling route on a very pleasant though trafficked residential road with a big bike lane.  Go L onto Stone Valley Rd., R on Green Valley Rd., L. on Diablo Rd., and L. onto South Gate Rd. (this road is confusingly signed “Mt. Diablo Scenic Blvd” for its first half mile—don’t let it throw you).  This will give you some flats and some mild climbing before you get to the hill.  There is traffic all along this route, but there’s good bike lane shoulder all the way to Diablo Rd.  Diablo Rd. is narrow with no shoulder, but for the first half of it there’s a nice separated bike path up the left side of the road.  After it ends, it’s a short white-knuckle ride with cars whizzing by your shoulder to the turn-off.  This leg is marked as a bicycle boulevard (with big white bicycle icons painted in the middle of the lanes), so the cars theoretically know you have a right to be there.  I typically park off Danville Blvd. and ride from there, which gives you about 30 minutes of mild climbing for warm-up.  Perhaps the shortest, easiest, and flattest approach if you’re driving is to park at Diablo Vista Park about 4 miles to the east of the beginning of the climb, as several readers suggest below.

You’re welcome here

When you start up Mt. Diablo Scenic Blvd, you’ll be sure you’re on the wrong road.  You’re riding past schools and houses in what feels like a suburban cul-de-sac.  Fear not—all will be well.  Right before the first major dip, notice the faded message written on the road: “Danger severe road damage ahead.”  It’s a reminder that there used to be a 1/4 mile stretch of incredibly awful road surface following, but it’s been freshly paved and is now glassy.  As you cross it, say a prayer for the intrepid pioneers who came before you.

Typical view from the lower mountain

The climb is actually two climbs, the road up South Gate Rd. to the Ranger Station at the junction with Summit Rd., and Summit Rd. itself.  The first is a fairly easy climb, 4-6%, with lots of variety in the road contour, so you don’t get bored, and a delicious rolling flat through pretty oaks in the middle.  Just before that flat you get to the State Park Entrance, where there’s a kiosk that takes money from cars.  I don’t actually know if bikes are supposed to pay or not (the sign says “ALL vehicles” are supposed to pay), but I’ve never paid and never been asked to.  Ten yards past the kiosk on the R is a water fountain.  Just before you encounter the kiosk is perhaps the best vista on the entire ride on your R.

Looking back on the first pitch

At the Ranger Station there are bathrooms but no water (or at least I’ve never seen it—see the reader comment below).  There’s a photo display identifying the wildflowers you’ve been passing if you’re riding in the spring.  Summit Rd. is one notch steeper than what you’ve just ridden, more like 8-9%.  A sign says the summit is in 4.5 miles, and it’s dead right.  Here you will do some work, but again the road contour is constantly varied so the tough stuff isn’t interminable and you don’t get bored.  The final 100 yards are just ridiculously steep (RidewithGPS says you touch 17% at one point).  Every time I do it I say, “You will not walk, damn you—the summit’s right there!”

East Bay hillsides are rarely lush.

When you reach the top, take time to gawk at the views and check out the nifty little Visitor Center ( If you go inside you can literally stand on the tippy-top summit of the mountain, which pokes up through the floor).  The very best views aren’t from the parking lot—they’re from the roof of the Visitor Center, which is open to visitors.

The false flat midway

When you’re ready to descend, consider the traffic.  As I said, the next 4.5 miles back to the Ranger Station is absolutely prime, if the traffic doesn’t spoil it for you.You’ll be going a lot faster than the cars are, so if there are cars in front of you, you’ll be on your brakes and hating it.  It’s common to find yourself pulling over and waiting for slow cars in front of you to get a lead.  So I strongly suggest you either 1) watch the cars leaving and wait for a long break—at least 30 seconds, or 2) be up there on a Wednesday or at 9 o’clock in the morning.

Typical conditions near the top

The descent down South Gate Rd. is faster, more open, wider, and straighter than the stretch from the summit to the junction, and you may prefer it—depends on what you like.  Here you’re slower than the cars (you’re faster than you were on the top stretch, but the cars are faster still), so the problem is reversed, but there is passing room and it’s not a big issue.  So sez me…but several commenters below say that dangerous motorists are a common threat on the mountain.  I’ve never seen them, but I’ve never ridden it when it was busy.

Shortening the route: The classic shorter ride is to ride to the Ranger Station and turn around.  The alternative would be to start at the Station and ride to the summit.  It depends on how important summits and vistas are to you, and what kind of descending you like—the road above the Station is curvier, smaller, tighter, and steeper.

Adding miles: You’re a few miles from the Morgan Territory Road ride, though they’re unpleasant miles on a bike.   Everything else is a substantial car trip away.

 Distance: 12 miles one way
Elevation gain: 2044 ft

Sierra Road, a name that brings shivers to Bay Area riders, was made famous in 2012 when Chris Horner flew up its 18% pitches (OK, RWGPS says it tops out at 14%, but my legs say different) to lock up the win in the Tour of California.  He rode those pitches at around 13 mph.  I had ridden up the same slopes earlier that morning to watch the stage finish—at 4 mph or less.    This is one of the toughest climbs in our list, a true feather in your cap, one of two climbs in Bestrides where I’ve been known to stop to recover (the other being Welch Creek Road, in the Adding Miles section of the Calaveras ride).

Sierra Rd. itself actually isn’t all that wonderful a ride.  It’s too steep to be fun, and the landscape is mostly barren grassy hills and vistas of San Jose bloat.  But it’s a marvelous challenge, and the descent on the backside, Felter Road, is superb.  For those more interested in scenery and riding pleasure than bragging rights, a better ride is Felter alone as an out and back, which I discuss at the end.

Start at the intersection of Sierra Rd. and Piedmont Rd..  The climbing starts immediately (I ride around on Piedmont to warm up) and is immediately fierce.  It’s going to stay like that most of the way to the summit (about 3.6 miles).  The scenery is a bit bland and the view from the top, while admittedly vast, is mostly of San Jose sprawl (standing at the summit, Bob Roll looked at San Jose and said to me, “How did we go so wrong?”).

Felter near the summit

The summit used to be absolutely nothing but one-lane road and grass, but now there’s a spiffy new parking lot, benches (to take in Bob’s vista), and a map board introducing you to the trail system that takes off from the parking lot into the Sierra Vista Open Space Preserve to the southeast.  Signs used to implore you, “Do not throw manure over fence,” in case you had it in mind to do so, but they seem to have disappeared.   Still no bathrooms or water, however.

A rare moment of shade on Sierra Road

Once past the summit, everything changes.  Now the views are quite nice (the Open Space Preserve).  You turn north and start to roll and descend on good road surface.  Try to notice the “Livestock Keep Out” sign on your L—I guess the East Bay cows are a literate lot.  At a minor intersection the road turns from Sierra Road to Felter Road (there’s a road sign marking the change, but it’s easy to miss).   The pitch steepens until you’re almost literally flying down some short 10% and 14% stretches.   Much of it is very fast, with no speed-killing sharp turns and with long sightlines and run-outs allowing for 45 mph if you’re up for it and just enough up-and-down and back-and-forth to add some technical interest.  Flat-out exhilarating.

Nearing the summit of Sierra

Felter changes its name to Calaveras Rd. when Calaveras enters on your R, then intersects Piedmont and our ride is over, because the ride back to your car is ordinary.   To complete the loop, turn L on Piedmont and stay on it to your car.

Looking back from Felter at the summit, with San Jose in the background

Shortening the route: Climbing Sierra is the sort of thing you do for bragging rights, so it makes no sense to do part of it.  If you want something easier, just do the Felter half as an out and back.  It adds miles, but it’s prettier, easier, and more fun, a lovely climb through hobby farms and along rolling grass-and-oak hillsides.  You’ll still get a workout—1400 ft of vert in 6 miles, with the afore-mentioned 10% and 14% stretches.

One of many grand eucalyptus along lower Felter

When I do the Felter out and back, I usually start at the intersection of Piedmont and Calaveras, to give myself some warm-up time—it’s all uphill from there, but at a milder pitch than Felter itself.

Adding miles: Since this is the East Bay, you’ve got great riding to the north and south of you.  The intersection where Felter becomes Calaveras is the turn-around point of the Calaveras Road ride.  A stone’s throw to the south is the Mt. Hamilton ride.

Afterthoughts:  In the middle of the summer the Sierra Rd. temperature can be nearly 100 degrees, and there are no services on the ride until the water and bathrooms at the Ed Levin County Park when the ride is almost over.  If you can’t do the ride in the morning, I strongly encourage a third water bottle for your head.  One afternoon I started the climb with two full water bottles and that proved inadequate—I had to beg water from a guy watering his lawn.  And we’re talking a 4-mile climb here.

Distance: 30 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 1470 ft

This ride is one of a trio of East Bay rides that are similar in general contour: Calaveras, Palomares Road, and Morgan Territory Road.  They’re all about-five-mile climbs, at first gentle, then moderate, up through pretty wooded canyons along creeks.  To tell them apart: Palomares is the simplest and has the most domesticated ambiance; Calaveras is the easiest (though none is Mt. Diablo hard), has no backside descent, has the best open hillside views, is the only one of the three that has great riding contiguous to it, and is ridable only on weekends (because of car traffic); and Morgan Territory has the roughest and narrowest pavement, the best isolation, and the best backside descent.   Morgan Territory’s pavement is poor on the north side of the summit, which doesn’t bother the ascent but puts a damper on coming back down that way.  If you’re riding on a weekend and are just going to ride to the summit and back, do Calaveras.  If you want to climb to a summit, descend the back side, then turn around and ride back, do Palomares.  And if you’re in for a bigger adventure (or a BART ride), do Morgan Territory.

Calaveras Road is, most of the time, unridable.  Calaveras Road is now an alternative route for traffic on the South Bay freeways during commuter hours, so you can expect to meet literally hundreds of cars on a small, twisty road then.  In addition, during working hours an aggregate plant fills the first 3 miles of the ride with huge, noisy, dusty gravel trucks.  Therefore, this is perhaps the only ride in Bestrides.org where I tell you, unless you want to ride it before 7 AM, ride this road only on weekends.   On Saturday and Sunday, the road is transformed into a recreational bike path.  You’ll see upwards of 80 bikes, many of them hybrids or other strollers.  One rider said to me of Calaveras, “On the weekends we own it!”  You’ll meet 20-25 cars, but for 4/5 of the route either the road is very wide for a two-lane or you can see them coming from afar or both.

Calaveras Road (“skulls road” in Spanish) is an absolutely delightful ride (hence the 80 bikes).  It’s scenic as hell (half oak-canopied creek canyon climb, half open, grassy hillside with big vistas).  It’s remarkably easy for a climb—1400 ft of vert in 14 miles—and it has the best, most interesting road contour in the East Bay—better than Mt. Diablo, Mt. Hamilton, or Palomares.   In addition, the road surface for the first half of the ride is glass (they redid it 2017-2018) and the second half is excellent chipseal.  As if that weren’t enough, the route touches two excellent, challenging add-ons: Felter Rd. and Welch Creek Rd.—see Adding Miles for details on both.

Park at the northern end of Calaveras Rd.  There’s a lot of good dirt shoulder in all directions.  Much like the Palomares ride in the beginning, you start out fairly level for about 3 miles.  The scenery in these first miles is ordinary, with one exception: right past the start of the ride you pass a stretch of road lined (on your R) by the rare and striking cork oak.  The gnarly bark is unmistakable.

View from the Calaveras Rd. ascent

Next you do about 4 miles of constantly varied, moderate climbing (never over 6%) through shady oaks with steadily improving views of the creek canyon on your L, up to the reservoir level, then climb some more to get up above it.  If you notice someone with a spotting scope, stop and ask them what they’re looking at—there’s a pair of nesting peregrine falcons across the canyon.

Once past the unnoticeable summit, you roll up and down and back and forth below the ridge line through patches of oaks and stretches of open grassland with fine views of the reservoir  basin on 3 sides of you, until a very short, steep drop to a dead end at Felter Rd.  That last short drop isn’t particularly fun, and it’s a real grind coming back, so unless you have a strong Zigarnik I give you permission to skip it.

View from Felter Road: the Calaveras ride rolls along the hillside to the left of the reservoir

The ride back is just as good.  The first 8 miles of rollers gains about 600 ft, so don’t exhaust yourself on the ride out.  After that, it’s a very nice 3-mile descent that’s of a pleasant pitch.   If there’s one knock against this ride, it’s that the descent is so mellow the thrill factor is low—I rarely got over 25 mph.  Once you’re off the hill, 3 miles of near-imperceptible descending (and more gravel trucks) take you back to your car.

If by chance you get to the turn-around T and are desperate for water, turn R down what is still Calaveras and shortly you will hit Ed R. Levin County Park, which has drinking fountains.

The Calaveras climb

Adding miles: This is another Best of the Bay leg, so you’ve got rides from our list to the north and to the south.

Going north, six miles down very trafficky, narrow Niles Canyon Rd. takes you to the turn-around point for the Palomares Road ride.

Our ride’s turn-around point is at Felter Rd., the northern half of the Sierra Road/Felter Road ride.  Felter to the Sierra Road summit is a great out-and-back, more built-up with hobby farms than Calaveras and much more work ascending (1400 ft of vert in 6 miles, vs. 1400 ft in 14 miles), with several 8-10% pitches and some moments of 11-14%.  For that reason the descent is literally hair-raising, a thrill ride if there ever was one.  For details on Felter, see the Sierra Road/Felter Road ride.

Welch Creek Road

“Nibbles,” a Bestrides reader, tipped me off to Welch Creek Road, a 4.7-mile (one way) out-and-back beast on your L off Calaveras, just north of Geary Road.  It’s a gorgeous, delightfully gnarly climb.  The scenery is prettier than Calaveras, and the road is half the size, so you’re right in the midst of it as you crawl up a narrow creek canyon.  Check out Nibbles’s excellent description below.  It’s absurdly steep—c. 2000 ft in 4.7 miles, which pencils out to about 10% average, with plenty of 18% stuff.  Probably the hardest 4 miles of climbing I’ve ever done—took me almost an hour.  Much of the ride down is too steep to be fun, but the flatter parts are as playful as a young colt.  A must-do ride at least once.  To my surprise, there are a few houses at the end of Welch Creek Rd, so a car or two is possible but statistically unlikely.  One reader differs, because there seem to be popular hiking trailheads accessed via WCR.

Welch Creek Road