Author Archives: Jack Rawlins

Sweet Creek Road

Distance:  22 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 1730 ft 

(Update: as of summer 2026 some internet sources say a key section of the hike in this post is closed.)

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This is one of the few rides in Bestrides that isn’t primarily about the riding.  Oh, the riding is fine—pleasant miles along a pretty river followed by a sweet climb through a pretty forest.  But the jewel in the crown is Sweet Creek Trail and its many waterfalls.  So bring a bike lock and walking shoes.

Begin in the tiny town of Mapleton, which is a short row of shops at the intersection of Highways 126 and 36.  Ride up Hwy 126 a stone’s throw and turn R onto Sweet Creek Road.  Ride the aforesaid pleasant 4.5 miles along the Siuslaw River.  This isn’t wilderness—the river is dotted with fairly elaborate vacation homes.  Turn L onto what appears to be a new road but is in fact the continuation of Sweet Creek Rd., and leave all signs of civilization behind.  Ride to the end of the pavement (see the reader comments below about how I’m wrong about that), climbing steadily through standard Oregon woods.  Turn around and ride back.  The road surface coarsens near the turn-around point, so the first stretch of the descent is jarring.  The rest of the descent is smooth.

Usual Oregonian gorgeousness along Sweet Creek

Usual Oregonian gorgeousness along Sweet Creek Road

But before you ride back: you’ve really come to hike the short, spectacularly beautiful stretch of Sweet Creek along the last leg of the ride.  This is one of the sweetest little hikes I’ve ever done.  In thirty minutes of easy walking you’ll walk past several falls and cascades of peerless beauty.   Take your camera.  If you really hate hiking on a ride (and I do), the first 1/4 mile of trail will yield some of the trail’s best views.

Sweet Creek

Sweet Creek

Moore’s instructions for finding the trailhead left me confused.  There are in fact three trailheads along the creek: in the order in which you’ll encounter them, they’re Homestead, Sweet Creek Falls, and Wagon Road, all signed.   You want the first one, because you want to encounter the falls walking upstream.  Hike until the trail turns L, climbs, and leaves the creek at an impassible falls, then hike back.  If you start at Sweet Water Falls TH and hike upstream, you’ll miss the prettiest water.  Here’s a map to guide you.

When you get back to your car, don’t leave without checking out Mapleton.  It’s my favorite teeny town in Oregon.  It’s just a roadside strip mall with about six shops, and many are worth a visit.  All Mapletonians seem delighted you’re there.  The Riverview Market/Groceries/Liquor Store/Deli is a classic—it has one of everything, and sells real food and ice cream at spectacularly low prices (great polish dog, $2.89 in 2026).  The “deli” manages to combine a deli counter, a hot dog stand, a sandwich shop, a pizza parlor, and an Ice cream shop  in one small room.  I counted 11 hand-lettered menus on the walls.  A few doors down is Alpha-Bit, a tiny shop advertising  cafe, books, gifts, antiques, coffee, soups, sandwiches, pies, espresso, a realty office, and “really cool shit.”  

Shortening the ride: Ride to the first trail head; hike; ride back.  You could skip the flat miles along the Siuslaw, but you wouldn’t be saving any work.

Sweet Creek

Sweet Creek

Adding miles: If you’re up for riding dirt, you can keep riding up Sweet Creek Road and after many miles come out on the Smith River at a point midway through our Gardiner to Eugene ride (I think there’s even a mileage marker that says Reedsport X miles ahead before our turn-around point), and I’m sure it would be a great adventure.  I haven’t done it.

4.5 miles up Sweet Creek Rd. from where it leaves the Siuslaw, Road 24 takes off to the R.  It’s a small paved back road you can ride all the way to Siltcoos Lake and Hwy 101.  It turns into Road 945, which some maps call Maple Creek Rd.  It has one mile of very steep climbing going west and a similar mile or so coming back.  It’s on my to-do list. You could loop it by riding it westward and returning on Hwy 126, but see my slam of Hwy 126 below.  At least you’d have a tailwind.

Highway 36 north of Mapleton looked nice, though I didn’t ride it, and it goes nowhere in particular so it shouldn’t be trafficky.

Moore begins his route with 14 miles of riding on Hwy 126, from Florence to Mapleton.  I wouldn’t ride this road on a bet.  It’s classic flat, high-traffic, high-speed highway shoulder riding.  To cap it off, if you begin in Florence you’ll end the ride with 14 miles of riding back to Florence into the teeth of a strong headwind if weather conditions are normal.  

Lolo Pass Back Road

Distance:  12.3 miles one way
Elevation gain: 2600 ft 

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

East Lolo Pass Road is a chestnut Oregon ride, a twelve-mile out-and-back climb up a wide, clear-cut valley dominated by a huge rack of power lines.  I don’t like it.  But the back road that parallels it, FR 1828, is sublime—8.5 miles of the densest, most magical woods I found in Oregon (but not giant conifers—see photos).  And one grand glimpse of Mt. Hood.  It has a lot of vertical gain—RWGPS says you’ll gain 2600 ft, over twice our climbing benchmark of 100 ft/mile, and touch 17%—so you will work.

Carry a map on this ride or a vivid memory of one in your head.  You have three turns to negotiate, and all are apparent but totally unsigned.  Park where E. Lolo Pass Road crosses the Sandy River and head up ELPR through classic Oregon vacation cabin country.  Go R on Muddy Fork Rd. at 3.3 miles (turn #1).  When Muddy Fork Rd. turns R to cross the creek, don’t make the turn—take the unsigned one-lane road L (almost continuing straight on, but we’ll call it turn #2).  That’s FR 1828.  It has no other name.

Typical 1828 canopy

Typical 1828 canopy

FR 1828 immediately begins to climb, and will climb vigorously—some might say dauntingly—for the next 4 miles.  Overall vert for the ride is 3860 ft, and most of it is in these four miles.  Oregon has few really steep pitches, and this is one of them.  But you won’t mind, because you’ll be gawking at the scenery and marveling at the solitude.  The road is so narrow and primitive you’ll worry it will turn to dirt at any moment.  The canopy is unequaled, and the privacy is near-absolute, since there is no earthly reason why a car would be on this road.   This is truly a magical place.

CIMG8563

Nothing’s prettier than these woods

About 1 mile past the obvious summit on Rd 1828 (there’s a “KOM” marked on the road) there is an unmissable Y that Moore’s text and map ignores (turn #3).  The R fork goes slightly up and the L fork goes more steeply down.  Both roads are about equal in size, and neither direction looks promising.  Go L and trust.  The road surface will deteriorate, adding to your fear that you’ve gone the wrong way.   Ride the last, relatively flat, miles to the end of the road, dead-ending at E. Lolo Pass Rd., also (incredibly) unmarked.

My route ends here, because there is no Bestrides-worthy route back.  FR 1828 has such a broken surface that descending is a daunting prospect unless you’re on a mountain bike.   The descent on E. Lolo Pass Rd. is a classic example of long, featureless, straight bombing through merely OK scenery, but I guess it’s your best alternative.  There are splendid views of Mt. Hood over your L shoulder and an easily-spotted waterfall on your R that’s worth a stop and/or hike, but that’s it.  The descent also has its spots of problematic road surface.

By the way, Moore warns of a stretch of gravel at mile 20.5 on his route.  It’s there, it’s not a big deal, but it’s hard to see coming because you’re in heavy dappled shade, and for me it came a mile later.  He also warns of a spot with a stop sign, a washout, and a one-lane section, all of which aren’t there any more.

Mount Hood and a break in the canopy

Mount Hood and a break in the canopy on FR 1828

Adding Miles: Moore recom- mends E. Barlow Trail Rd., which leaves E. Lolo Pass Rd. to the L a stone’s throw uphill from our starting point.

Dead Indian Loop

Distance:  46-mile loop
Elevation gain:  5010 ft 

(A Best of the Best ride)
(A Best of the Best descent (on Hwy 66))

This is one of the Oregon rides that is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This ride is an approximate square.  Each of the 4 sides is a different kind of riding.  Three sides are great, and the fourth is a pleasant warm-up.   The four sides are 1) 7 miles of gentle shoulder riding through pleasant farmland, 2) 7 miles of uninterrupted climbing up a dramatic canyon, 3) a rambling, rolling saunter through rich forests, past meadows, and along lake shores, and finally 4) a breath-taking, supersonic 14-mile descent.  You also get two resorts, one charming inn, one pretty lake, one semi-pretty lake, and the likelihood of eagles.  Dead Indian Road is actually only about a third of the ride, but it’s a much more energetic name than “Highway 66,” which is our other choice, so let’s go with that.

You can ride this route in either direction, but the experience is very different.  Hwy 66 ascending is a pleasant, varied, moderately steep serpentine.  Descending, it’s a Best of the Best ride, a splendid romp through tight corners, fast esses, and ripping lazy turns.  Dead Indian is mostly straight and unvaried, a blazingly fast rocket sled on the descent and a boring slog as a climb.  So I prefer the counterclockwise loop, and in fact I usually ride up Hwy 66 to the Green Springs Inn and turn around.  But it all depends on what sort of descending you like.

The weather at the top of this loop is much colder than at the bottom—expect at least a 10-degree drop—so take a layer more than you think you’ll need.  I once did this ride during a cool spell in the middle of June.  I dressed for summer, it was 48 degrees at the lakes, and I froze.

You can start anywhere on the loop, but I’m starting you at the intersection of Dead Indian Rd and Hwy 66 (Green Springs Highway), because you’ll get about 7 miles of gentle rollers to warm up on.  Head south on Hwy 66.  This is outskirts-of-town farm country, pretty to the eye, but the road is always busy and you’re on the shoulder, so it’s not great.  Most of it is, however, a lovely shoulder, wide and smooth.

Hwy 66

Hwy 66

Shortly after the Old Siskiyou Hwy turn-off, you dump almost all of the traffic and start to climb, and you climb without interruption for about 7 miles.  The climb is always 5-7%, so you work but you don’t suffer (2200 ft in 7 miles), and the scenery is grand, open, and varied, and the road, while constant of pitch, is always serpentining and giving you different looks.  It’s one of the prettiest roads I know, a series of curves as lovely as a Japanese ink drawing.  If you look west across the valley after you gain some altitude you can clearly see Hwy 5 making its long descent into Ashland.

Hwy 66, looking back at Ashland after the first miles of the climb (typical summer forest fire smoke)—click on photo to see the road

At the end of the climb you reach the obvious summit signed “Summit Green Springs Mountain,” and at the precise summit Old Hyatt Prairie Rd. takes off on your L.  Don’t be tempted to take it, unless you want to ride a 10-mile dirt road that intersects our route later.  The road we want is E. Hyatt Lake Rd., the next paved road to the L. about 3 miles further along.  Finding it is made more complicated by the fact that some maps call our road “Hyatt Prairie Rd.,” which it later becomes, and the fact that our road has no road-name sign at the intersection.  In fact there are no road-name signs between Hwy 66 and Dead Indian Rd., so you have to follow directional signs, following signs first to Hyatt Lake, then to Howard Prairie Lake, then to Dead Indian Road, through a couple of questionable intersections.  Just keep along the western shore of both lakes.

Because the turn off Hwy 66 is sketchy, look for a large colorful sign reading “Hyatt—Howard Prairie Recreational Area” on the L and the unmissable Green Springs Inn on the R.   Consider checking out the Inn.  It’s quite a place (note the free re-supply depot for PCT hikers).  The pies are legendary, and the cinnamon buns are the size of hubcaps.

Tub Springs: worth the added 3 miles

In the old days, Before one turned down E. Hyatt Lake Road, one stayed on Hwy 66 for another 1.5 miles and visiting Tub Springs, a tiny State Park consisting of three stone troughs with the best spring water in Oregon.  People drove hundreds of miles to fill up the back of their station wagon with 5-gallon jugs of the stuff.  But the water quality has been condemned, and the site is now open for viewing only—moderately interesting but not the unmissable treat it once was.

Hwy 66 at early morning

The miles from Hwy 66 to Dead Indian Rd. are a lovely break from the drama that precedes and follows them—easy, sweet meandering through lush conifer forests and grassy meadows.  You do 3 miles of very low-key climbing to Hyatt Reservoir, then ride along the reservoir’s edge, with constant pleasant views of the water, which is not the most beautiful lake in the world but is OK.  Hyatt is reportedly a haven for bald eagles and ospreys, though I never see any—there’s a turn-out with informative plaques about the birds just past Hyatt Lake Resort.   Then it’s on to Howard Prairie Lake, which you can only barely glimpse from the main road and which you could easily not know is there unless you take the 1/4-mile road to Howard Prairie Resort.  Which I encourage you to do, because HPR has much to offer: splendid bathrooms (with soap and showers, in case you want to freshen up mid-ride), a developed marina, nice picnic tables overlooking the lake (much more scenic than Hyatt), and a snazzy glass-and-stone central building.

Mt. McGloughlin behind the lake meadows

Mt. McGloughlin behind Howard’s Prairie Lake meadows

Soon after you clear Howard Prairie Lake you dead-end into Dead Indian Rd. and turn L.   Thinking all the climbing is over, you quickly hit a 3.8-mile climb, a shallow, tedious grind to an obvious summit at the sno-park.  If you know it’s coming, it’s merely a pain in the ass; if you don’t, it can be soul-crushing.

Now it’s all down.  The descent down Dead Indian Rd. is spectacular, a masterpiece of wide-open, high-speed descending, with big sweeping curves that rarely force you to drop below 35-40, and it goes on and on until your hands are cramping and your neck is aching from being in the drops.  It’s the best of that sort of descent I know.  If you love fast descents, do this ride.

Dead Indian Road: smooth, straight, and fast

This route offers you three places to resupply: Green Springs Inn, Hyatt Lake Resort, and Howard Prairie Resort—IF you’re late enough in the season for them to be open.   Many resorts in Oregon don’t really open until July.  Call ahead.  I think Green Springs is year-round.

Shortening the route: Ride to Green Springs Inn and turn around.  Riding Dead Indian as an out-and-back is an option, but I consider the climb a mind-numbing slog.

Adding Miles: About 8 miles into our route you pass the start of our Old Siskiyou Highway ride.

Our route has you riding about half of Dead Indian Rd.  You can turn R instead of L when you intersect it and ride the other half, up to Lake of the Woods, and turn around.  Not that I’m recommending it.

You’re about a half hour by car from Jacksonville and our Sterling Creek Loop.

 

 

Old Siskiyou Highway

Distance:  24 miles out and back
Elevation gain:  3323 ft 

(A Best of the Best descent)

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This is a not-hard, not-easy climb and Best-of-the-Best descent through canopied woods and along open hillsides with grand vistas, all on an old highway that sees almost no traffic.  This is extreme Southern Oregon, so you won’t get the ferns and mossy maples of the Oregon rain forest, but the forest is still very pretty.  I love this ride, in both directions.  A perfect life would start every morning with it.   And you’re riding a stretch of old Hwy 99, which when I was a boy was the only route north through the Northern California valley and into Oregon, so there’s an added element of nostalgia if you’re a native of a certain age.

Our map starts at the intersection of Hwy 66 and Old Siskiyou Hwy.  I actually start at the intersection of Dead Indian Hwy and Hwy 66, to give my legs 4+ miles of easy-roller warm-up before the climb, but if you don’t want to there is dirt parking at the base of OSH.  Ride Old Siskiyou until it turns into a Hwy 5 on-ramp. There’s a large dirt turn-out for parking at the intersection.  There is a mile or so of fairly level at the beginning, but if you want to warm up first, Hwy 66 is pretty and mellow in either direction. 

The first 7 miles of Old Siskiyou—to the Hwy 5 underpass—is steady climbing through lovely forest.  The pitch is just under hard—one more degree and you’d have to work, but as it is you just feel like you’re climbing strong today.  The canopy is cathedral, the road serpentines constantly and gracefully, the traffic is nearly non-existent because all the cars are on Old Siskiyou’s replacement, Hwy 5, and the road surface is good.  There’s even a 270-degree turn where you get to cross your route on an overpass—shades of Disneyland’s Autopia.

The canopied first half of Old Siskiyou Highway

The first half of Old Siskiyou Highway: in the canopy

The second half of the ride is easier, more open, and big on vistas.  Leaving the Hwy 5 underpass behind, you climb up a short, straight, boring slog, and then the climbing is over.  You’re out of the trees and you’re alone on an wild, rocky sidehill far above the wide ribbon of Hwy 5 visible below you. At the fairly obvious summit you can see far into California to the south.  The best view of Hwy 5 is about 100 yards after you start down the other side—watch for it because it doesn’t last long.

From the summit to the end of the road is 4 miles of stready 25-30-mph, fairly straight downhill.  Given the fact that no car is ever going to be on this road (in the summer), the road surface  is in remarkably good shape, varying from excellent to good to patches of OK.   Turn around before the road sweeps you onto Hwy 5 and ride the 4 miles uphill back to the summit.  This last 8-mile out-and-back is only moderately rewarding, and if you want to ride to the summit (or the good view of Hwy 5) and turn around I won’t think less of you.

As good as the first 7 miles were going up, they’re even better coming down.   The curves are just big enough so that you don’t have to do much slowing and just small enough so that you can ride them hard and feel like a pro, and the pitch is just steep enough that you can get up speed without working and just shallow enough that you don’t have to do a lot of braking.  It’s a Best of the Best descent, a constant 20-30-mph ripper through dappled sunlight.  The road surface isn’t ideal—there are lots of vertical cracks to dodge, so you’re often choosing between the ideal line through the corners and the best pavement—but it’s good.

Shortening the route: Ride to the Hwy 5 underpass and turn around.

Second half of the ride: looking south at California and Hwy 5

Second half of the ride: looking south at California and Hwy 5

Adding miles: The beginning of this route is on the route of the Dead Indian loop ride.

Just beyond the Hwy 5 underpass midway on our route is the turn-off for Mount Ashland Road, a challenging climb to the summit of the area’s tallest peak.

There is a bike path, the Bear Creek Trail, that runs up the valley from Ashland to Medford,  which is sometimes nicely in the thick of the reparian woods and sometimes boringly on the very shoulder of Hwy 5 (Note: the fire that destroyed Talent in Sept. 2020 laid waste to much of the countryside along the bike path).

Galice to Golden

Distance:  61 miles out and back
Elevation gain:  3490 ft.

This is one of the Oregon rides that is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This is a wonderful ride, and the only reason it isn’t in the Best of the Best list is because it lacks any sort of wow factor: no awesome waterfall, grand vista, dramatic canyon, or awe-inspiring redwoods.  Just really good riding through varied, pretty scenery.

This ride passes through three very different ecosystems, all rewarding.  The first stretch, from Indian Mary County Park to the Rogue River bridge/Grave Cree Bridge, is through the open, rocky Rogue River Canyon, which by the end leaves you clinging to the face of a steep rocky canyon wall.  Very dramatic, very nice.  Lower Graves Creek Rd/Lower Wolf Creek Road, the second leg, is up and down and back and forth, narrower, tighter, through riparian woods and almost car-free.   The third leg takes you on a classic “family” ride through sun-lit forests to the interesting ghost town of Golden.

Two-thirds of this ride (everything except Lower Graves Creek Rd/Lower Wolf Creek Road) is might-as-well-be-flat, and the ride total is a mere 3500 ft.  in 60 miles, but since almost all the climbing is in that 15-mile leg of LGCR/WCR that stretch is a bit of a workout.

The route actually begins in Mary County Park, a short ride before Galice, but I liked the “G to G” alliteration.  Ride west on Galice Rd., with the Rogue River, one of my favorite rivers on the planet, continuously on your R.  In the beginning the ride is no more than very pleasant.  The canyon starts out wide and developed, with plenty of resorts and vacation homes, and then passes through the community of Galice (rhymes with police, not malice), which is little more than a convenience-and-T-shirt store, a resort with cabins, and a large river rafting operation.  This is Oregon river rafting central, so if you’re there on a summer weekend the place is a bit of a madhouse, but you will soon leave it behind.  A mile out of town the buildings stop, the canyon steepens, and the views (of the river below you and the rock wall above) get better and better, until the road unmissably crosses the river on a bridge and the road immediately forks.  These first miles are essentially flat, even though you’re riding down-river.  You’ll share the road with river recreators and rafting companies, but there’s plenty of room and it’s easy to get up earlier than they do.  Most of this leg has an immaculate road surface but unfortunately it’s a moderate chip-seal, nothing like California’s godawful prickly pear but rough enough to jack up the rolling resistance a tad.

After crossing the Rogue River on the unmissable bridge and pausing to watch the rafters navigate the rapids upstream and drift to their pull-out just downstream of you, go R onto Lower Graves Creek Rd, which turns into Lower Wolf Creek Rd in about 9 miles at a noticeable intersection and takes you to the town of Wolf Creek.   Everything is suddenly different. The traffic disappears—I typically see 4-5 vehicles in 30 miles (out and back).  The road surface is good to perfect, the atmosphere is wooded and shady, and the road is constantly serpentining, climbing, descending, never straight and never the same for more than 50 yards.  It’s a joyous contour, road riding at its best.  The woods here are not Oregon’s famous redwood forest primeval—it’s drier than that—but it’s still very pretty.  Don’t plan on getting off the bike and traipsing through the understory—it’s largely poison oak. It’s upstream heading east, so two-thirds of the elevation change is up in this direction, but I don’t notice much difference in the work load either way.

You will do some work.  RidewithGPS says it’s 1950 ft gain in 30 miles (out and back), which doesn’t sound like a lot, but none of it is flat and I guarantee you’ll feel every one of those 1950. Except for two extended climbs, the ups never last long.  Some of the longer descents are outstanding.

The two roads, Lower Graves Creek and Lower Wolf Creek (I have no idea where Upper GCR and WCR are), are noticeably different: Graves is narrower, more up and down, less trafficked (even), more dramatic, and more often along the creek—in other words, better. 90% of the ascending/descending is in the Graves half of the leg.  By comparison, Wolf is a mellow stroll.  But still very nice.

Rogue River canyon

Rogue River canyon

The town of Wolf Creek is tiny but worth a stop.  There’s a classic general store and a wonderful old inn with lots of history and a welcoming attitude toward droppers-by.   It was a stop-over for outdoorsy celebrity types, so there are lots of memorabilia related to famous guests like Clark Gable and Jack London.   Ask about the faked John Wayne photo.

Start of Lower Graves Creek Road: my favorite sign

Start of Lower Graves Creek Road: my favorite sign

You might be tempted to skip the few miles between Wolf Creek and the ghost town of Golden, but it’s a lovely stretch of easy, ideal riding through classic sunlit (if the sun is out) woods, and Golden itself is of interest.  Head south out of town on Old Highway 99 (the obvious main street) briefly, take the L that takes you under modern Highway 5, go R immediately on the other side of the underpass onto Coyote Creek Rd, and follow CCR to Golden.

Don’t expect something on the level of Bodie, CA.   There’s not much to Golden.  It’s only a sweet little church, two or three other unprepossessing shacks closed to visitors, and a few historical placards.  Still, it was interesting enough that I drove back on a later date to show it to my wife.  The church is still used for weddings and such.  I was lucky enough to arrive when a family was decorating the church for an approaching wedding, and I’m sure that added to my fondness for the place.

The return ride is easier, a little.  Wolf Creek/Lower Graves is downstream in this direction, but as I said I didn’t notice much difference.  From the Rogue River bridge back to your car is upstream but imperceptibly so—you’ll do no significant work.

You’ll have one tricky intersection to navigate returning.  About 9 miles in from Wolf Creek, the road splits at an unmissable intersection, and the obvious primary road goes L.  Don’t take it—stay R on the apparently secondary road.  There is a clear sign, but unfortunately the sign says that both options are Lower Grave Creek Rd., so that doesn’t help.  Google Maps makes a hash of this: the fork is almost invisible, Grave is indicated as the obvious primary fork, and the L fork is labeled “Archer Mine Rd.,” which the intersection’s signage disputes.  Ignore it.

Shortening the route: There is no best leg of this ride.  The leg to the bridge is dramatic rocky canyon; the leg to Wolf Creek is pretty woods and serpentining road contour; the leg to Golden is easy, sun-struck woods.  Pick a favorite.  For me it’s the Graves Creek/Wolf Creek leg, hands down, and the best part of that is the Graves Creek leg.  But that’s me.

Adding miles: The miles from Merlin to our start at Indian Mary County Park are very pleasant, domesticated Rogue Valley riding.  Bear Camp Rd. (which takes off to the L shortly after our ride begins) to the ocean is a famous bucket-list epic (long, remote, rough, lots of climbing, lots of gravel sections) and only to be undertaken by the adventuresome and well-prepared.  Wikipedia, in its article on Bear Camp Rd., lists names of people who have died on it.

Our Tour de Fronds ride is on the next east-west road to the north.

Lovers of loops might want to ride south from Wolf Creek and come back to Galice from the southeast, but I don’t think it’s possible—I see no alternative to Hwy 5 heading S from Wolf Creek.  Let me know if I’m wrong.

Lower Graves Creek Road

Lower Graves Creek Road

Mosquito Ridge Road

Distance: 50 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 6500 ft

A Best of the Best ride

(Note 9/22: In 9/22 the Mosquito Fire burned a large area with this ride at its very center.  I haven’t seen the damage, but the flora must be devastated.  Of course the rock formations and road contour will still be there.  jr)

This is one of the prettiest mountain rides in Bestrides.  For the first 22 miles, you’re treated to views of a large river canyon on one side of the road and stunning multi-colored rock walls on the other.  If you’re a rock lover, this and the Kings Canyon ride will be your favorite rides, ever.  And the road is one continuous lazy serpentine—downhill, it’s 25 miles of buttery-smooth slalom course.  The only thing that keeps it from being the ride of your life is that it’s also 25 miles of almost unvaried, fairly monotonous 4-6% climbing—never difficult, but a bit tedious.  Luckily you can take your mind off the monotony any time by looking at the scenery on either side of you.  No distractions here—no inns, no houses, no waterfalls—just you, the road, and the canyon.

A reader tells me that the end of this route before the turn-around is unplowed in winter.

The route couldn’t be simpler: from downtown Foresthill, CA, a small ridge-top mountain town with all the amenities, ride down Mosquito Ridge Road to the turn-off to Big Trees Grove.  Turn around and ride back.

Out of the gate you plunge into a joyous, easy 9-mile descent from the top of the ridge to the bottom of the American River canyon, with open views of the majestic canyon on your R and more and more colorful rock walls—red, blue, purple, yellow, gold, black—on your L.  The scenery will steadily improve for the next 14 miles.   The pitch is a consistent 4%, good for a descending speed of around 24 mph and mellow enough that you needn’t dread the climb back out.CIMG1073

Cross the big steel bridge over the river.  Now you climb, without interruption, until the turn-around point, at a slightly steeper pitch than what you just came down—5-6%, which will give you a sweet 30-mph descent when you turn around.  At 11 miles in, you reach a junction with a smaller road, named Blacksmith Flat Road (signed with a number, FR 23, but no name—there’s a sign on Mosquito Ridge Rd with the name after the turn-off, so you’ll see it when you’re returning), on the R.  If you take the southern loop option discussed under Adding Miles, you close the loop here, or go R onto 23 if you’re going counterclockwise.  But we aren’t doing that today.

CIMG1039Keep climbing up the south wall of the canyon, as the canyon vistas get grander and the rock walls get more varied and colorful.  The best scenery is from around 12 miles in to 14 miles in, so if you’re out for a shorter day try to make it that far, or drive to the bridge and start there.  At about 17 miles in, you reach the top of the ridge, swing R, cross the ridge into the canyon to the south, and ride along the northern wall of the new canyon.  The varicolored rock displays are all behind you, but the new canyon is, if anything, grander than the first one.

About 21 miles in, you ride out of the canyon and into standard prime Sierra forest, no better or worse than any other pristine Northern California woods, and the pitch shallows to imperceptible climbing.    Feel free to turn around—you won’t miss anything wonderful if you do.  Pass the oddly named Interbay Rd on the R and in a few miles you’ll be at Big Trees Grove.  The Grove has some nice giant sequoias, but you have to hike a 1/2-mile trail to see them, so unless you brought walking shoes there is little point in riding the 1/2-mile (paved) road to the picnic area, unless you need a drinking fountain or a bathroom—there’s one of each (but see Afterthoughts below).

Rock lover's paradise

Rock lover’s paradise

Turn around and ride home.  Soon you will notice something about the road contour if you didn’t notice it on your descent to the bridge: you don’t need brakes.  There are no hairpins.  Every curve, with the exception of one obvious 180 at 11 miles in, is rounded and lazy, so you never need to scrub speed.   You can ride from Big Trees to the bridge—15+ miles—and never drop much below 30 mph (minding that one corner).  You don’t have to brake, you don’t have to pedal if you don’t want to, you never speed up or slow down much—you just sit there, leaning the bike from side to side, carving esses.  Dreamy.

There’s a reason for this.  The road was built for logging, so it’s wide (for a two-lane), smooth, gentle of pitch, and lacking tight corners that would slow a logging truck down.  The downside of all this is that, while the road is almost without other traffic, you may meet loaded logging trucks and other large equipment.   But the road is roomy, the sightlines are good, and you can hear the trucks coming, so they aren’t a problem here, though having one pass you on the 10-mile climb back to your car, where the road can be narrower, does elevate the heart rate a bit.

Back at the bridge, you’re looking at 9+ miles of climbing, and if you’re tired that can seem daunting.  But it’s not bad.  It’s never more than 4%, so you can maintain 6+ mph even with tired legs, there are no soul-crushing straightaways, the rock walls are a constantly entertaining distraction, and there’s a sweet 1-mile descent right where you need it most, halfway up.  The whole thing won’t take more than 80 minutes of leisurely spinning.

Shortening the route: The best scenery is around 12-14 miles in, so plan to go that far or drive to the bridge and start there.

Photo by Brian

Photo by Brian

Adding miles: If you want to ride on past Big Trees there is no reason not to.  Eleven miles further down the road is French Meadows Reservoir.  You can ride there and turn around, or you can do either of two loops, both more challenging that the ride I’ve mapped out here.  Loop 1 forks L a few miles after Big Trees Grove and takes Road 43, Robinson Flat Rd, which was or is largely dirt, until it runs back into Foresthill Rd, which you no doubt took to get to the town of Foresthill.  Just go L and follow Foresthill Rd west back to town and your car.

Loop 2 is tougher.  Ride to French Meadows Reservoir, cross the dam, and immediately turn R at the fork onto French Meadows Rd.  Follow it through some name changes back to its intersection with Mosquito Ridge Rd (by which time it’s named Blacksmith Flat Road, or Rd 23), which you passed 11 miles into your ride.   Go L and return on Mosquito Ridge Rd to your car.  This is a long, demanding ride with some fierce climbing, and is often done counterclockwise to cash in on that 15-mile descent after Big Trees.  The good folks of the Sierra Foothills Cycling Club have provided a detailed ride log.

You are a few car miles down the road from the back door to the Iowa Hill Road ride, and if you want more miles after any one of these three options, my hat’s off to you.

Afterthoughts:  Plan your water carefully on this ride, especially if you’re doing one of the bigger loops.  There are only two water sources, Big Trees Grove at our turn-around and French Meadows Reservoir 11 miles further on, and both taps are shut down off-season.   I take a third water bottle and drop it at the bridge for the return climb, but even this would be inadequate on a hot summer day.

Mt. Veeder Road

Distance: 21 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 2440 ft

Mt. Veeder Rd. is a text-book two-hour ride: a straight ride up and over a summit, down the back side, then return.   The landscape is varied and always pretty, and the road contour is ever-changing.  It’s a perfect, delightful ride, and the descent is my favorite descent in the Wine Country after Fort Ross Rd.  Once it was cursed with the usual Sonoma County lousy road surface.  But MVR was recently repaved (Thanks, Joel) and as of 2025 the one-obnoxious chipseal has worn down nicely, so it’s close to perfect.

MVR, like most of California, has been built up some since I started riding it, so it’s not quite the wilderness it once was, but it’s still lush and gorgeous.   It’s paralleled by a much more car-friendly road, Dry Creek Road (more on that later), that goes to the same place, so logically it should be car-free.  It isn’t.  Expect a couple of cars a mile.

By the way, names are misleading here.  You are not climbing a mountain, and, despite the fact that you begin on Redwood Road and follow Redwood Creek for miles, these are not redwood forests.  If you look up the hillside to the west you can spot some scraggly redwoods, but that’s it.  Still, the non-redwood woods are quite pretty.  For redwoods, add on the Redwood Rd. fork (see Adding Miles below).

It’s very lush for the first miles

If you’re planning on returning via Dry Creek Rd., you can park among the housing tracts off Dry Creek Road’s east end and ride the easy mile to the start of Redwood Road, but you don’t have to—there is ample shoulder parking in the the first miles of Redwood/Mt. Veeder around Browns Valley Rd., and BVR itself offers endless tract housing parking.  The first miles of the ride are a shallow enough climb that you can easily warm up on them.  You ride along Redwood Creek, a pretty, heavily canopied stream.  Soon Redwood Rd. goes L, and the road straight ahead becomes Mount Veeder Rd (it’s all signed).  You’ll see numbers painted on the road—1100, 1200—which for a long time I thought were elevation markers, but I think they’re street addresses.  The pitch goes from mild to moderate, then gets serious for the last 1.2 miles (9-11%) before the summit.

At the summit, a number of things happen: 1) you reach the intersection of Mt. Veeder and Lokoya Rd to the L; 2) you get the best vista on the ride of the land to the north; 3) you enter an area damaged by the Tubbs Fire, which burned 2800 homes in Santa Rosa in October of 2017, though it’s still pretty; and 4) you do not descent yet—you roll up and down for 2+ very pleasant miles.  At 8.5 miles the real descent begins, and you drop for 2 miles, all the way to the T at Dry Creek Road.

It’s drier further up the hill

This descent is full of lovely moments and the scenery is gorgeous, which if you descend like me you won’t notice until you climb back up.

At the turn-around point you have a route choice: ride back on Mt. Veeder, or turn R and ride the half-mile to Dry Creek Road (not the famous Wine Trail road out of Healdsburg—this is another Dry Creek Road) and ride it back to Redwood Road.  Both are very good options, and most local riders do the loop route.  I don’t.

Here’s how to make up your mind: DCR has a much gentler pitch, and is wider, straighter, more open (sunnier), and much more developed.  And it eliminates the 2-mile climb at the start of the Veeder return ride.  As a result of all this, it’s easier, gentler, and less dramatic.  It’s pretty, but not as pretty as MVR.  Do it if you’re ready to relax on the ride home.  The Mt. Veeder return is dramatic, exciting, and dodgy.  Do it if you want to whoop and holler, and work a bit.  I’ve mapped the ride as an out and back, because the MVR descent must be experienced at least once.  The two-mile climb that starts the return ride is substantial but never daunting, and the scenery is excellent.

Dry Creek Road: slower, smoother, more open, blander

Shortening the route: Ride to the summit and turn around.

Adding miles: The easiest add-on is the 3+ miles of Redwood Rd. (one way) that forks off to the L on the ride up and gives the main road over to Mt. Veeder.  It’s prime riding, much like Mt. Veeder, and a joy both climbing and descending.  The descent is especially good, thanks to the immaculate road surface.

If you turn the other way at the far end of Mt. Veeder Rd and go L onto Dry Creek Rd, it will soon turn into Trinity Grade, a classic little up-and-down across a ridge separating Napa County from Sonoma County.  It’s very steep, very twisty, and pretty busy, but it’s very pretty.  It’s discussed at length in the Cavedale ride post.

Speaking of Cavedale Road, it takes off from Trinity to the L (southeast) at Trinity’s summit.  See our Cavedale write-up for details and for info on looping Mt. Veeder and Cavedale.

If you go R at the Veeder/Dry Creek Rd intersection, then go straight instead of R again at the next intersection, you’re on Oakville Grade, a short stretch of road famous for its steepness.  I haven’t ridden it.

Mt. Veeder Rd. is part of the Tour of the Napa Valley, a century with good folks, good food, good roads, and a great attitude.  On the century, as you approach the summit of Mt. Veeder Rd, you hear bagpipes.  The music is live and coming from the summit, and it’s meant to lift your flagging spirits.  Boy, does it work.  One of the great century perks of all time.

Eagle’s Rest Road

Distance: 29-mile lollipop
Elevation gain: 3160 ft

This ride comes from Oregonian FOB (Friend of Bestrides) Don.

This route has a specific sort of appeal.  It’s as isolated a ride as you can find on a road bike.   You’ll ride for 21 miles without seeing any sign of human presence—no houses, no fences, no “No Trespassing” signs, no directional signs, no street signs, no cars, no people, no nothing.  That 21 miles is through some of the most pristine, virginal forest I’ve ever seen.  Even though the route is dead simple (you literally need to negotiate one intersection), I’ve never felt so lost.

(For the literalists among us, on 8/18/26 I rode the route and saw three signs of human presence in those 21 miles: a sign on a tree by a dirt road reading “Closed to all unauthorized entry,” a sign reading “Weight limit 7 axles 38T,” and a mysterious sign reading “Pump chance.”)

To add to the sense of isolation, both my GPS trackers (on my iPhone and my Garmin) had no idea where I was.  And when you’re in the comfort of your own home with a strong GPS signal, neither Googlemaps nor RidewithGPS will show you the route, because neither acknowledges there’s a paved road there.  And, if you can find the road, no source will tell you what it’s called.  I’m about 70% sure my RWGPS map has the route right, but don’t hold me to it.

So it’s an adventure.  The risk is, in reality, tiny—the route is simple, the road surface is sound—but the sense of risk can be high, and I would in fact take extra water, food, and clothing, because if you run into trouble god knows how long it will be before someone comes along. Since the usual route guides are useless, I’m going to describe the route in excessive detail.

All this may seem off-putting.  Rest assured, it’s a grand and memorable ride—one of my favorite rides in Oregon.  Its only problem is, once you turn onto Eagle’s Rest Rd., the road surface is chattery for the next 20 miles.  I wouldn’t do the ride without big tires.

One comment below mentions logging impact on the route.  That indeed is the elephant in the room.  I’ve done this ride at least 4 times and never saw hide nor hair of logging activity on the road.  However, on my last ride there was a large logging operation midway along the route, with massive stacks of logs on both sides of the road.  It was thankfully inactive(on a lovely Tuesday afternoon), but someday they’re going to want to get those logs down the mountain, and on that day I don’t want to be anywhere near those roads.  There is simply no room.  So if you see signs of logging trucks on the road, I’d ride somewhere else.

(RWGPS erroneously shows a large chunk of the route as unpaved, but it’s all pavement.)

Begin the ride in Dexter, a tiny town notorious for containing the bar where the roadhouse scene in “Animal House” was filmed.  (You can start at the foot of Eagle’s Rest Rd, but you’ll be starting the ride with a leg-killing climb.)  Ride south from Dexter on Lost Creek Rd (passing Lost Valley Rd—lots of getting lost around here) for 3.6 miles, then turn L onto Eagle’s Rest Rd. (In keeping with the spirit of the ride, completely unsigned).  Here begins the 21 miles of virgin woods I promised you.

20 miles of this

20 miles of this

The afore-mentioned climb begins immediately.  It’s long, uninterrupted, and steep, often 8-12%, and made more difficult by the chipseal surface.  The woods are stunning—don’t let the climbing keep you from appreciating them.

At 8 mi. you hit a false summit.  At 9.6 mi. you hit the real summit.  At this point the hard work of the ride is done.  You roll up and down until mi. 11.7 mi., the one tricky spot in the ride: you reach a fork, and you must go R, though L looks like the primary road (see photo below).   Left fork goes down, right fork goes up—you did it right if you’re climbing (briefly) after the split.  My Garmin marked the new road as “National Forest Development Road 512,” but I’ve never seen that name anywhere else.

This is the fork--go R

This is the fork–go right

Once you make that R, you have no more decisions until Mile 23.5, when the road you’re on runs into a much larger, more developed road and you take it to the L.

After the fork and a brief climb, the road drops noticeably, then meanders up and down through less glorious (but still grand) woods on a road surface that is worse than the previous chipseal.  Not awful, but poor.

CIMG8125At mile 17.2, three things happen: 1) you turn north, back towards Dexter; 2) the road surface dramatically improves, to OK; and 3) you start to drop—at first steeply, then more gently, all the way to Mile 23.5.  Some of this descending is spectacular, and much of the foliage is as magnificent as anything I’ve ever seen.   Somewhere along this stretch my Garmin began identifying the road as “Lost Creek Rd.”

At Mile 23.5 you dead-end at the completely unsigned larger, fully-developed (double yellow line) road.  You are in fact at the intersection of Lost Creek Rd. to your L and what Googlemaps labels as “Hartunos Rd.” to the R (not that it does you any good to know this). Go L (actually continuing on Lost Creek Rd.) and continue on Lost Creek Rd. back to your car.  Midway you’ll pass Eagle’s Rest Rd. on your R, in case you want to go around again.

Shortening the ride:  The prettiest foliage is on the leg from the beginning of Eagle’s Rest Rd. to the fork at 11.7 mi. and (riding the route backwards) on the leg from the Lost Creek Rd./Hartunos Rd. fork to the beginning of the serious climb.  Either is a grand out-and-back, the first being a major climb and the second being nearly flat.

Adding Miles:  A few miles down Hwy 58 from Dexter is Oakridge, home of the Aufderheide ride and all the others mentioned in Aufderheide’s Adding Miles section.   If you go northeast from Dexter and cross Dexter Reservoir, all the roads around Fall Creek Reservoir are gorgeous and mellow, especially Big Fall Creek Rd and Ruben Leigh Rd—perfect for a recovery day or social ride.

This is August!
Looking north toward Dexter mid-ride—thanks to clear-cutting

Lone Tree Road

Distance: 21 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 2700 ft

A few words about riding around Hollister generally:

First, Hollister’s image is hot, dusty, dead flat agricultural fields and a culture stuck in 1955.  Some of that is true.  Hollister is hot and dry in the summer, and cold and dead in the winter, so I would try hard to schedule my riding for late spring (April) after some rain, when the grass is green and the area is momentarily a gorgeous, lush garden.  The town of Hollister and the surrounding agricultural valleys (Santa Ana Valley and San Juan Valley) are flat, but they’re surrounded by small, rolling hills rich with meandering roads offering ideal riding contour.  The three Bestrides rides from the area all have substantial climbing.  As to the culture, Hollister is not especially hip, but it’s a pleasant, easy-going town, and San Juan Bautista is a small Old California treasure with a grand Spanish mission and adjacent historical State Park well worth an afternoon.

Second, the road surfaces in San Benito County all vary from poor to awful.  You just have to live with it (or ride somewhere else).  The one exception is our Fremont Peak ride, where the surface is OK.

Lone Tree Road is a straight climb and descent out-and-back out of an agricultural valley up a draw into the surrounding hills surrounding.  It’s only the third or fourth best ride in the Hollister area, after San Juan Canyon Road and San Juan Grade and perhaps Cienega Rd (see Adding Miles below).  The climb is challenging and harder than the total elevation gain suggests, since the first 3 miles are flat—more like, 3000 ft gain in 7 miles.  Expect a fair amount of 8-12% stuff. 

The ride has three drawbacks.   1) The road surface is poor (see above)—an irritant on the ride up, a serious impediment to joy on the descent.  The surface deteriorates as you ascend, so you could turn around if and when it gets unpleasant.  2) The scenery is all the same and a bit vanilla—grassy, rounded hills.  “Lone Tree Road” is a pretty accurate name.  I can imagine some people loving this landscape, but for me it’s just OK.  The scenery on our other two area rides (San Juan Canyon Road and San Juan Grade) is much better, assuming you prefer oak canopy to grassland.  Since there is next to no cover, I wouldn’t do this ride on a hot, sunny afternoon.  3) There is no summit, pass, or other “top of the world” culmination providing you with the grand vista—the road hits a gate before you summit and you turn around.

All that not withstanding, it’s still a good ride and worth doing.

Park at the west end of Lone Tree Road and ride it until it dead-ends.  It begins as a straight 2-lane road among cultivated fields, but soon leaves them and winds and ascends without interruption through round, unpeopled grassy hillsides on a classic 1½-lane road without centerline, gradually steepening until you’re doing short stretches of 10-12%.  When you hit a stretch of real work, 15% or so, then go basically level, you’re near the end.   You’ll see a saddle ahead of and above you and assume you’re heading for it, but well before you get there the road terminates at a mansion’s gate and you turn around and ride back.   Since it’s a dead-end road with almost no houses after the first few miles, you can expect next to no traffic.

Shortening the ride: Skip the opening flat miles.  After that, it’s all much the same—turn around anywhere.

Adding miles: It’s 12 miles from Lone Tree Road to the other local rides in Bestrides, San Juan Grade and San Juan Canyon Road, both out of San Juan Bautista.  Midway between you pass Cienega Rd. (“see EN uh guh”), the most popular bike route in the area, an easy, charming, and gorgeous (in April) meander through riparian oaks and small, unpretentious farms that locals do as a loop and I would do as an out-and-back (18 miles one way), since the return on Hwy 25 is a drag.  Another sweet little back road, discussed at length in the Adding Miles section of the San Juan Grade ride, is School Road, a few miles west of San Juan Bautista.  A longer ride that’s reputed to be worth doing goes from Paicines to Panoche.

Lone Tree at its lushest

Lone Tree has its pretty spots…

But mostly it's exactly like this

But mostly it’s exactly like this—note the road surface

East Zayante Road

 Distance: 22 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 2750 ft

This is a drop-dead gorgeous out-and-back climber that starts out with a few miles of easy, rolling climbing among rural houses, and continues to get steeper, narrower, more isolated, more densely wooded, and prettier as it goes.   The woods are different from those of rides like Felton Empire and Big Basin—instead of mostly redwoods, you get a lot of bigleaf maples, so there’s a lot more light coming through, and at times it looks like the forest is on fire.  The entire ride is along Zayante Creek (or tributaries), with frequent creek crossings, which means quaint little bridges and fun little descents and ascents before and after.  All in all, arguably the prettiest ride in the Santa Cruz area. There are two stretches that are hard work, but the rest is mellow and so varied in pitch as to keep you fresh and perky.

The road surface used to deteriorate as you go, to a point where descending the way you went up was unpleasant, but it’s all been resurfaced and is now good surface (see Nibbles’s comment below).  Also, it’s far enough east that it escaped the terrible damage from the recent fires.

Park near the intersection of Graham Hill Rd. and E. Zayante Rd.  There are small dirt turn-outs just a stone’s throw up E. Zayante and a large church parking lot at the intersection.  Ride up E. Zayante.  The first mile or so is hectic and boring.  There always seems to be a lot of traffic in the lower stretch of this road, and if it bothers you you can drive up a few miles until you get past most of the houses and park, but very shortly you can take the L turn onto W. Zayante (which explains why E. Zayante has “East” in its name), and ride up the other side of tiny Zayante Creek in relative carlessness for the busiest 1.2 miles, which is how I’ve mapped it.  W. Zayante dead-ends at Quail Hollow—take QH 50 ft to the R (crossing the creek) to rejoin E. Zayante.  The traffic will continue to thin out until you clear the houses, when it drops to next-to-nothing for the last two-thirds of the ride.  On my last ride, I saw 6 cars in the last 8 miles.

The first 6.5 miles are mellow and varied climbing, so you’ll have time to warm up your legs before the serious pitches start.  The area is fairly built up, but the houses are old and the canyon is steep so the houses are quirky, quaint, and busy with stilts, decks projecting into space, and staircases.

At mile 6.5, you start a mile of serious climbing that ends at the intersection where E. Zayante changes its name to Upper Zayante (clearly signed).  Immediately after the intersection, you get a long recovery in the form of a mile of down.

The road continues to get narrower and the woods get thicker and prettier.  Soon you’ll see a sign that says “one-lane road, two-way traffic next 3/4 mile.  5 mph” (I’ve never seen that sign anywhere else), and you climb, at a substantial pitch for a mile, then at a moderate pitch to the end of the road.  When the road T’s into Summit Rd., look back at the three signs warning motorists starting down Upper Zayante what they’re in for.

Upper Zayante gets narrow!

How to get back to your car used to be a dilemma, since all routes back had their problems.  Now that Zayante’s pavement has been redone, just bomb back down the way you came.  Nibbles (below) says it’s a Best of the Best descent.  I won’t go that far, but it’s very good.  There are a few corners in the first (steepest) miles where you can get into real trouble if you don’t have disk brakes.  Also in those first miles, you will meet at least one car and it will be smack in the middle of the road (because there’s really only one lane), so descent accordingly.

If you’re dead set against out and backs, you can go R on Summit, ride to Hwy 17, do a death-defying descent of 17 down to Glenwood, and ride Glenwood back to Scotts Valley.  But the Glenwood surface is lousy.  Or you can come down Mtn. Charlie, but that surface is even worse.  You can go L on Summit and ride Bear Creek Rd. back to Boulder Creek and ride Hwy 9 down to Felton, but BCR is the main car corridor between Hwy 9 and Hwy 17 with no room for bikes, and Hwy 9 is even busier.  So, no good alternatives to turning around.

Shortening the route: Since the scenery gets prettier, the traffic lighter, and the road smaller the further up you go, I’d start wherever the mileage lets you reach the end of the road.

CIMG7136Adding miles:  As with any ride in the Santa Cruz area, you’re near scads of great riding on this route.  See the Monterey Bay discussion in the Rides by Region chapter for a survey of roads in the Santa Cruz area.  Since it’s the same conversation for all 6 of our Santa Cruz rides, I’ll do it once there and leave it at that.

Afterthoughts: Unless the heat is fierce, try to do the ride sometime other than early morning or just before sunset (for a change), because you want the sun high enough to backlight the bigleaf maples.   You’re in almost constant shade for the last 2/3 of the ride, so sunstroke shouldn’t be a problem.  On the other hand, high noon is less than ideal because the sun is directly overhead and the backlighting is minimal.  So we’re talking 9-11 am and two hours before sunset.