Author Archives: Jack Rawlins

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

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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

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 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.

At 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.

Looking north toward Dexter mid-ride—thanks to clear-cutting

Lone Tree Road

East Zayante Road

5 Replies

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.

Adding 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.

Nacimiento-Fergusson Road

32 Replies

Distance: 53 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 5800 ft

( A Best of the Best ride)

This route is covered thoroughly in words and pictures at toughascent.com.

(Note: As the notes sent in by readers make clear, this road always seems to be going through a lot of trauma as a result of fires and winter weather. Its current rideability is always hard to determine. See MB’s excellent summary of conditions as of 5/24 below, and check https://www.bigsurcalifornia.org/highway_conditions.html for the latest road conditions. My latest word, as of 11/24, is that the road is finally, fully open.)

This is the best ride in California and Oregon. It’s a long way from anywhere, so you’re going to have to go out of your way to get to it, and it goes from the middle of nowhere to a blank spot on Hwy 1. This is all to your advantage, because it means you’ll pretty much have the road to yourself (see update below).

It’s one of those rides where you just ride the road, from its start to its finish, then ride back. In the process you’ll ride through four distinct ecosystems and experience four distinct kinds of riding, each a perfect example of its type: first, easy rollers through a valley full of golden grass and magnificent oaks, then gentle climbing along a pretty creek as it ascends a small riparian canyon, then vigorous climbing as you leave the creek and ascend to a saddle through oak forest, and finally a steep plunge down a steep, twisting road to Hwy 1 with views of the sea and coastline that are simply astonishing. The riding on the return is different but just as wonderful: a challenging 7-mile climb up from the ocean, a flat-out slaloming descent, an easy roll along the creek, and finally the oaken valley. It’s all just perfect—you’ll swear Disney built the course.

The ride is not terrifically hard—all the nasty is in the 7-mile climb up from the beach.

Valley of the giant oaks

It’s impossible to get lost once you’re on Nacimiento-Fergusson (“birth-Fergusson” in English) itself, but finding it is a bit of a challenge. Drive to Fort Hunter Liggett near King City. It’s a large, functioning army base no one’s ever heard of. If you ask directions, show the locals you’re cool by pronouncing Jolon Rd. “ho-LONE.”

Once you turn onto the base, you’ll pass an unmanned gate of sorts on the outskirts and drive for a few miles through open country with little signs of life. As you approach the base complex, about a mile before the fort main gate the road makes a sweeping curve to the R, and on the outside bend of that curve, on your L, is a small road that immediately crosses a metal bridge. That’s your road. There is no sign reading “Nacimiento-Fergusson,” but a sign reads (among other things) “State Route 1” with an arrow. (Once you begin riding, the road is clearly signed “Nacimiento-Fergusson” in the first 1/2-mile and whenever necessary thereafter.)

Riparian woods

DO NOT PARK AT THE INTERSECTION or anywhere else along the roads—this is a military base, after all. Drive on, pass the front gate to the fort on your R, pass the huge, gleaming white Hacienda on your R, and come to an intersection of (counting the one you’re on) no less than 6 roads. In front of you is a narrow fork with a sign between them reading “Mission San Antonio.” Take the fork to the L of the sign, drive to the mission (it’s barely visible from the intersection), and park there. It’s a real, functioning Spanish mission, Mission San Antonio de Padua, with plenty of parking. The mission itself is worth checking out. There is some interesting history here.

The creek

Ride back to that road with the bridge and take it. After a short up and down, you’re looking at a few easy warm-up miles through a grassy valley dotted with magnificent old oak trees. You can see the draw you’ll soon be climbing ahead of you. Then you climb peacefully along the creek at a constantly varying 0-4% through a pretty riparian woodland of sycamores, yellow penstemon, ceanothus, and California’s state plant, poison oak, until you cross the creek on a small bridge and the road tilts obviously up. The new climb is moderate of pitch and serpentining without interruption and ends at an abrupt, razor-sharp summit—you can almost stand with one foot on each watershed.

Climb to the summit (looking back down)

This ride is in our list of Best Descents, but not for what’s about to come—the drop to the ocean is so steep and the curves are so tight that you’ll be constantly braking, the road has a lot of loose rock—marble to softball size—so you have to go cautiously, and the sight lines are terrible so you can’t see cars coming. But the vistas are bucket-list so you don’t want to skip it. The entire Pacific Ocean is laid out before you.

The climb from the ocean: seven miles of this

Halfway down the 7-mile descent to the ocean, looking back up

At the bottom you’re on as isolated a stretch of Hwy 1 as there is, but there’s a tiny jewel of a campground called the Kirk Creek Campground, thank god. There’s a good bathroom but no water source, so I always just ask one of the campers for a couple of bottles’ worth, which they’re always happy to give. One time the campground host bawled me out for eating a sandwich at one of the picnic tables without paying the day use fee, but I think it was an aberration.

First sighting of Hwy 1 (photo by Don)

The 7 miles back to the saddle is a truly challenging climb, especially in the first 2-3 miles, which has a lot of 8-10%. After that it mellows out, a little. It is also mostly in full sun and typically very hot later in the day. But of course you can always lose yourself in the scenery. Past the saddle is one of my favorite descents and the reason why the ride is in the Best Descents list—long, smooth, never straight, with wide, cambered curves you can take at speed and frequently good sight lines. Then it’s back along the creek and through the valley and back to your car for some serious gratitude for a universe that gives you such things as this ride.

Afterthoughts: I always drive to and from the ride, but if you want to stay in the area you’ve got a few options (other than King City 15 minutes away, which is a valley ag town without merit). You can stay at Kirk Creek Campground and do the ride backwards. There are at least two small, pretty campgrounds along the ride route, between the military land and the summit. And there is the afore-mentioned Hacienda, a complex designed in 1930 by the famous Julia Morgan for William Randolph Hearst that sits on the military base and rents rooms to civilians (thanks, Patricia).

Shortening the route: Obviously I hate to give up any of it, but if you must, it’s just a matter of choosing what sort of riding you want—flat oak meadow, mild creekside climbing/descending, serious climbing/descending to/from a summit, or hairy descent/ascent to/from the sea.

Adding miles: I’m not a fan of riding Hwy 1, because of the traffic, but the section to the north and south of N-F might not be bad, since you’re a long way from the more popular stretches near Big Sur and San Luis Obispo. Also, winter weather often destroys sections of Hwy 1 to the north of you, so you may find Hwy 1 almost or entirely devoid of cars.

At the Hunter Liggett end the nearby riding is flat, hot, and boring in all directions.

At the ridge summit you cross a dirt road called the Coast Ridge Road that is highly regarded by gravel bike riders.

Forty miles away is our Shirtail Canyon Road ride.

Seventeen-Mile Drive

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Distance: 17-mile lollipop
Elevation gain: 1177 ft

This ride is a lot like the Golden Gate Bridge loop—a complete chestnut, over-hyped and tourist-ridden. Plus it’s all about money (you ride by Pebble Beach Golf Course, for god’s sake)—but, all that notwithstanding, it’s a delightful bike ride. Every time I do it, I wish I could live there so I could do it every day. You ride by waves smashing into coastal rocks, through lanes of coastal cypresses, do a nice little climb, roll through nearly unpopulated Monterey pine forest, then do a fun, fast descent, all on the best road surface money can buy. The forty-million-dollar houses used to amaze me when I started riding here, but now they look just like the McMansions in the upscale conclaves of my little home town and every other population center of California.

This isn’t just a scenic tourist stroll—the riding is outstanding. The road contour on the south side is a delightful rollercoaster—up and down and back and forth—and the inland half of the loop is almost as good—glassy smooth meandering, intermixed with effortless descending. You’ll do some work—c. 1200 ft vert. The traffic can be a bit noisome, granted, and if you can do the ride before 10 AM so much the better. Of course you’d like to do the ride at sunset, but that’s when everyone else wants to be there too—the last time I did it at sunset, one parking area had four gigantic motor coaches disgorging tourists.

This is California coastal riding, so wind is likely and the weather can feel surprisingly cold given the temperature—dress prudently.

The route is impossible to miss. Because the locals want to keep you from exploring the neighborhoods, they’ve painted huge, unmissable “17-Mile Drive” signs on the road and posted beautiful wooden route marker posts at all the intersections. Just follow them. Start where the Drive takes off from Sunset Drive in Pacific Grove. There are places where you can park on the dirt shoulder near the beginning of the ride, or find parking along Sunset. Immediately you’ll see a manned gate charging an entrance fee from the cars, but you’re free, so bypass it on the R (officially you’re supposed to pay a cyclists’ fee, but no one ever does).

The rock garden at Spanish Bay Beach

Take an absurdly well-signed R onto Spanish Bay Rd. (not the first R, into a golf course and the Inn at Spanish Bay). When you hit the water, take a moment to detour into the parking lot on your immediate R and explore the playful rock cairns covering Spanish Bay Beach (signed “Spanish Bay #3,” referring to the numbered tour guide you don’t have because you didn’t pay a car fee). Continue along the ocean, stopping at parking lots for the views.

They REALLY don’t want you to get lost

Let me be brutally honest: this stretch of shoreline is nice (the tourists are impressed), but it isn’t spectacular, or even the best in the immediate area—the coastline on the nearby Monterey Bike Path ride between Asilomar Beach and Lover’s Point is much more dramatic. Additionally, you can’t get close to the water easily—you’re largely restricted to formal parking-lot viewing areas, whereas on the Monterey Bike Path route you can tide-pool and boulder-hop to your heart’s content.

Continuing on our mapped route, make a big L turn and climb up from the water onto a bluff running SW along the shore. Here the road is lined by grand cypresses and some of the most expensive mansions you’ll ever see. Feel free to fantasize. The tread is up and down, back and forth, at a deliciously relaxed tempo through deep shade—the best part of the ride, to my mind.

The 17-Mile Drive coastline is justly famous...

The 17-Mile Drive coastline is famous…

Just after you pass Pebble Beach Golf Course and ride through the parking lot, you reach an intersection and turn R. A sign reads “Narrow road—cyclists exercise caution,” and you’re in for a few minutes of white-knuckling. I guess the cars are free to continue their reckless ways.

At the southeast corner of the loop, the road Y’s, with the main road turning right-angle L and beginning an obvious climb away from the water, and the secondary road going R and dropping to a lovely back door into the hamlet of Carmel (see Adding Miles below). There’s a temptation to turn around here and retrace your steps, since you’re naturally keen to do all that sweet riding a second time, but I wouldn’t—what lies ahead is not to be missed. Do the substantial (800-ft) climb up to Hwy 68. Ignoring the R to the exit gate, go L, paralleling 68, then R to cross over 68 as soon as you can. When you’re on the overpass, all noticeable climbing is over.

What follows is just a perfectly sweet 7 miles of cycling. Continue on the main road through a series of intersections, mostly descending, all the way back to Spanish Bay Rd. All the sight-seeing cars leave the Scenic Drive at Carmel or the Hwy 68 gate, and few people live back here, so you’ll have this back side of the loop all to yourself. In some ways it’s the best part of the loop.

But the inland scenery is just as good

The one place where you might be in doubt as to the route is when you close the loop at Spanish Bay Rd, which you took to get to the shoreline earlier. An enormous, unmissable sign painted on the road will tell you that the Scenic Drive goes L, down Spanish Bay Rd. toward the ocean. Well, the loop part of our route does, but you already did that, and if you go down there you’ll find yourself retracing the loop forever. There are worse fates. But ignore the sign, go straight, and you’ll re-ride the stem of the lollipop and end the ride at the Sunset Drive entrance.

Shortening the route: Turn around at the Pebble Beach Golf Club. You won’t save miles but you’ll eliminate the climb.

Adding miles: The 17-Mile Drive works its way around the perimeter of a network of residential streets, and you can explore any of them. The architecture is fascinating everywhere, and there are equestrian stables with rich girls doing dressage and such—it’s a whole world in there you’re only allowed to glimpse. Reader John recommends Palmero Way and Ronda Drive, both on your L as you pass the Pebble Beach Golf Course.

At the start of our route you’re a quarter-mile from our Monterey Bay Bike Path.

At the southeast corner of the 17-Mile Scenic Drive loop, at the Y, if you go R instead of L, in a quarter-mile you reach the back door into Carmel, perhaps the most adorable village in America. Every house looks like a variation on Hansel and Gretel’s candy house, every restaurant serves good and interesting food, every shop boasts tasteful, unique goods and friendly staff. You can ride down to the beach via Ocean Avenue, take the simply and appropriately named Scenic Road past the beach bungalows, and eventually work your way to Hwy 1, at which point you’re seven miles from my beloved Robinson Canyon Road ride. A few miles past Robinson is our East Carmel Valley Road ride.

Purissima Creek Road

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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.

Mt. Hamilton

21 Replies

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.

Looking back on seven or eight sections of our road from near the top of the ride, with San Jose and the South Bay in the distance

Morgan Territory Road

29 Replies

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.

Mt. Diablo

18 Replies

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 (typically 7%) until the last 100 yards (12-15%). 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 oak and grass. The views of the East Bay to the west are constant, expansive, and surprisingly free of signs of human 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 (back to the Ranger Station) is steeper and curvier and the second, so you’re on your brakes a lot, and the road surface is a mite rougher, so I prefer the second half (Ranger Station to civilization), but I’m sure it’s a matter of taste.

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 can be 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. Having said all this, I must confess that the last time I rode Diablo (7/18/26), in my descent from the summit to the floor I met not one car in my lane.

Even with traffic, the hill is very bike-friendly—there are signs at most blind curves reading “Do not pass bikes on blind curves,” for instance, and on the climb there are frequent little bike-only turn-outs so you can shed cars on your tail.

The road surface on the South Gate side used to be glass. It’s deteriorated a bit, so it’s now a solid B—not an issue on the climb, a slight bother on the descent, mostly in the top half (above the Ranger Station).

There is also the weather to consider. The summit can be foggy, windy, and cold even when the weather at the base is benign. Once I rode Diablo and 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. 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 start of the climb 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. It’s a pleasant shoulder ride on busy, large, manicured Blackhawk Rd.

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 good. 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, 4-7%, 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.

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 officially no steeper than what you’ve just done, but it feels one notch steeper—more like 7-9%. A sign at the intersection says the summit is in 4.5 miles, and it’s dead right. Again the road contour is constantly varied so 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 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 summer 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. 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, rougher, 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.

Jay's Essential Bike Rides

The very best road rides in California and Oregon

Author Archives: Jack Rawlins

Mt. Veeder Road

Eagle’s Rest Road

Lone Tree Road

East Zayante Road

Nacimiento-Fergusson Road

Seventeen-Mile Drive

Purissima Creek Road

Mt. Hamilton

Morgan Territory Road

Mt. Diablo