Distance:38 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 1790 ft
This, like many of the Oregon rides, was suggested by Friend of Bestrides Don.
Is there such a thing as a perfect ride? Elk River Road is as close as it gets—a beautiful, essentially flat out-and-back roll through my beloved Southwest Oregon coastal rain forest on a good road surface with little traffic and just enough pitch to make the return ride a brisk romp. Add a spritely rock creek along the entire length, an optional ride to a lighthouse for character, and free snacks in the form of wild blackberries. Most of the road is on National Forest land, and the road turns to dirt at our turn-around point, which means there aren’t many people up there except campers in the undeveloped campsites along the road. Once into the Forest, I met 5 cars on the ride in (in 12 miles), on a lovely August Saturday at midday. The only drawback is…nope, can’t think of any.
This ride is a lot like the first 40 miles of our Gardener to Eugene ride—both gorgeous, canopied forest on a basically flat road along a pretty river—so which should you do if you can’t do both? GTE is longer, it’s flatter (so there’s no sense of downhill if you ride back downstream) and straighter, it doesn’t turn to dirt (so you can through-ride it), it’s not in National Forest so it’s a little more developed, and the scenery has less variety. The Elk River canyon is narrower and steeper, and thus the river does more tumbling that the Smith does. Overall, Elk River Rd is a more dramatic, more intense ride.
Begin at the intersection of Hwy 101 and Elk Creek Road and ride east until ECR Y’s into NF 5325 and NF 5201, which both immediately turn to dirt (there’s a small sign with the road numbers before the Y); turn around and ride back. The road is a consistent 1-2% pitch. Mapmyride’s elevation gain is nuts. RidewithGPS says you gain 975 ft on the ride out, for an average climbing rate of about 50 ft per mile. Towards the end there are a few short 4-5% pitches. In other words, no hard work at all, but just enough pitch to let you do stretches of the return ride at 18-20 mph. The road surface is consistently good—there are a few major cracks, but they’re all longitudinal so you ride alongside them rather than over them.
At first the landscape is wide, flat river-mouth valley with houses, but after the Fish Hatchery you enter the canyon, the “river” (really a small creek) gets wilder, the houses disappear, the traffic lessens, and the road serpentines more. It’s like this to the end. The woods are dense so you glimpse the river in fragments, but it’s always right on your L shoulder. I spent much of my time hugging the L side of the road on the ride in, the better to see the water. The scenery is surprisingly varied: maples, alders, conifers, bare rock walls, mossy rock walls, ferny rock walls, boulder-strewn cascades, wide, open pools. If you’re there in August or after, there are wild berries along the road—delicious. I found my surroundings so consuming that I ghost-pedaled much of the ride at 10 mph, just to take it all in.
I suggest you do your river-watching, berry eating, scenery-gawking, and photo-taking on the ride in, because the return ride is just brisk enough that you’ll want to attend to your cycling.
Adding Miles: The ride to Cape Blanco lighthouse, just north and on the west side of Hwy 101, is well worth riding though of a totally different character. Also just north but on the east side of the highway is Sixes River Rd, which parallels Elk River Rd and thus gives you very similar topography. It too turns to dirt.
Distance: 55 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 4025 ft
The land surrounding the Marble Mountains Wilderness Area is a rich area for cycling. Almost every small road is pretty, interesting, mostly car-free, not killer steep, and paved, at least in the main. Loops are easy to construct. The only drawback is there aren’t many communities up there, so you have to plan overnight stops carefully, unless you’re self-supporting. The area is represented in Bestrides by three rides, Forks of Salmon, Salmon River Road, and this one, but they’re the tip of a very rich iceberg—see Adding Miles to see the big picture.
This ride is representative of the area: smooth-surfaced, lightly trafficked, very pretty, and surprisingly easy. It’s one of the easiest 55-mile rides I know. It accompanies the Scott River for its entire length, so it’s gently downhill going out and gently uphill returning, but the difference is negligible—I rode out the 40-mile version (see below) in 2 hrs and back in 1.5 hrs. The only noticeable hill is the last mile or so descending into Scott Bar, our turn-around spot, so if you’re really into mellow you can skip that, leaving you with nothing but constant gentle rollers, just enough to vary the riding experience without ever making it laborious or tedious. You could almost leave the granny gear at home. RWGPS’s elevation gain is inexplicable.
Begin in the town of Fort Jones, a pleasant little burg with several simple but worthwhile places to eat. Ride out on Scott River Rd. through Scott Valley, a typical hay-farming region. The road is mostly straight and flat, but it’s a pretty agricultural area, and if you aren’t familiar with Oregon-style hay farming you’ll marvel at the giant walking sprinkler systems. The Marble Mountains serve as backdrop. But honestly it’s just as interesting from a car seat, so if you want to drive to the start of the good riding, drive 7 mi. to the intersection of Scott River Rd and Quartz Valley Rd and start there. There’s a perfect dirt turn-out for parking.
Irrigating in Scott Valley
Immediately after Quartz Valley Rd the river canyon begins, at first broad and almost unnoticeable, with the river hardly moving, but soon the canyon deepens and narrows and the water comes to life. For several miles, you’re riding on the very lip of the river, with constant fine views of boulder-strewn rapids and deep pools perfect for swimming. This is my favorite leg of the route.
The Scott River
All too soon the road leaves the river and climbs gently until the river is far below you, then drops back down to rejoin the river at Scott Bar, a community of a few houses, a post office, a ranger station, and an interesting historical marker 100 ft past the town proper—don’t turn around without checking it out. Ride back to your car, marveling at how little work you’re doing despite the fact that the river is constantly climbing alongside you.
Above the river, with the Marble Mts in the background on a typically smoky summer day
This road is no one’s principal driving route. The only significant community along it is Happy Camp, and Happy Campers when they want to go to the big city drive south on Hwy 3 to get to Arcata/Eureka. I did the ride on a lovely Friday morning in August and saw 14 cars (once out of the busy Scott Valley). Why the county keeps the road’s surface in such pristine condition I don’t know. I saw deer, turkeys, herons, and a fox.
Shortening the route: Skip the first 7 miles, as discussed. Then, turn around any time—the miles are pretty equally rewarding.
Adding miles: As I said in the beginning, the cycling riches nearby are extensive. If you like riding in pretty valleys, you can take Quartz Valley Rd south and wander around until you get to Etna. You can continue on Scott Valley Rd to Happy Camp. From there you can ride northwest on Greyback Rd into Oregon and eventually to Cave Junction, or you can take the afore-mentioned Hwy 3 south and ride to Arcata, or branch off Hwy 3 to Forks of Salmon and pick up either half of our Forks of Salmon ride to either Etna or Callahan. Just past Scott Bar you meet Hwy 96, and you can ride it east along the Klamath River all the way to Hwy 5. It’s 32 miles of pleasant but not grand riding amidst rather stark terrain, slightly uphill all the way. I’d call it the least exciting of the roads discussed here, the most developed, the biggest, the busiest, and the easiest. From Seiad Valley you can ride Seiad Creek Road, reported to be an excellent ride until it turns to dirt.
There is a very big, multi-day loop that consists of Etna to Scott River Rd, SCR to Hwy 96, 96 west and south to our Salmon River Rd ride to the leg of our Forks of Salmon ride from Forks of Salmon back to Etna. Obviously, much of the route is prime, since it encompasses three of Bestrides’ routes. But the long leg on Hwy 96, while generally pleasantly scenic, is not great riding—shoulder riding on a big, wide highway with much traffic and car-friendly profile (straight, with long unchanging pitches). It’s a good route for a touring mentality, but not for Bestrides.
Afterthoughts: The Marble Mountains seem to burn every summer. Check smoke conditions before planning a trip to the area.
Distance: 44 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 6030 ft
The position of Bestrides has always been, avoid Highway 1 like the death-trap it is. The traffic is constant, irritable, and staring out to sea, and there’s no room for you. But all generalizations have their exceptions, and there are stretches of Hwy 1 worth riding: the Chileno Valley Rd and the Muir Woods loops come to mind. And this stretch of Hwy 1, the northernmost, while still busy, is more than worth your time. It’s grand. It’s a lot of climbing (only about 2 of the 44 miles are anything like flat), and there is only one break in the forest wall, at the turn-around. But that one break is a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean, the forest wall is often primeval redwoods, and none of the climbing is brutal. The road contour is perfect for descending—endless serpentining, curvy enough to be exhilarating, not so tight that you’re constantly on your brakes, all beautifully banked for speed. And of course you can continue on from the turn-around point and ride as much of Hwy 1 as you want to.
There are two flies in this otherwise-blissful ointment. The first is traffic. It’s busy. But it’s less busy than almost any other leg of Hwy 1, because most tourists are interested in the stretch between Fort Bragg and Big Sur. And it’s nobody’s commuter route, so the drivers are not in a hurry. The real problem is construction equipment: any wet winter causes damage along Hwy 1, so most summers there’s a steady stream of gravel trucks going to and from the construction site(s). It’s not as bad as it sounds—there is little shoulder but room to pass—but if it bothers you you might choose to ride in the fall, when the construction is probably complete. Even so, I did this ride midday on a Monday in July, the road crews were busy, yet I did long stretches of riding the center line in solitude.
The second ointment fly is the road surface. It ranges from glassy to tooth-rattling chipseal. When it’s rough, it definitely takes the edge off the descending. When it’s smooth, there is nothing better.
There are no services on this ride, and a lot of climbing, so plan your water. Since it’s mostly downhill for the first 18 miles, you can carry extra water without a performance penalty and drop it partway in.
If you prefer loops to out-and-backs, there is a lovely one at the end of Adding Miles.
Begin at the intersection of Hwy 271 and Highway 1, 40 feet down Hwy 1 from Hwy 101. There is plenty of shoulder parking around the intersection. You’re going to descend briefly, then climb a lot, so you might like to warm up on Hwy 271, which is relatively flat, and shows you downtown Leggett—just follow the unmissable signs to the drive-through tree and keep riding (more on Hwy 271 in Adding Miles).
On the climb
Back on our route, head down Hwy 1, descending .7 miles to a metal bridge and climbing moderately through very pretty forest for 4 miles to a blissful mile of plateau riding with fragmentary views of the Hwy 101 valley through the trees. Then descend, sometimes mildly and sometimes vigorously, to the 18-mile mark. At mile 14.5 on the map it looks like you’re on the coast, but you won’t see the ocean until the turn-around point at Hardy Creek.
At mile 18 you cross the (signed) South Fork of Cottoneva Creek on an unmissable bridge. Google “Cottoneva” (also spelled “Cottaneva” on google and maps) for some interesting local history. The maps and road signs call this spot “Rockport,” but there’s nothing there except the bridge—I don’t mean “no services,” I mean nothing.
View from the turn-around
After the Cottoneva Bridge you have a fairly tough 2-mile climb, then a similar 2-mile descent. As you labor up the pitch, note the road surface—it’s glass, so the descent when you return is the best descending on the ride and worth the work you’re doing now. Drop down the other side and a short climb takes you to the ocean. Getting to the water would be a tough trek down a cliff, so don’t expect to cool your feet in the surf, but the views are typically breath-taking, unless it’s fogged in.
The ride back is a lot of climbing, and you seem to be with the majority of the traffic this way, but the pitch never gets nasty and there are two nice descents to reinvigorate you. The 2-mile climb up from the ocean is the worst of it. Don’t “just ride” the descent to Cottoneva Bridge—it’s the best 2 miles of descending on the route, so relish it.
You can rip these descents (this photo is looking uphill)
The usual weather warning for the Pacific Coast obtains: Always be prepared for wind, cold, and fog on Hwy 1. There can be a 40-degree drop in temperature from the start of the ride to the turn-around.
Shortening the route: There is no particular leg of this ride that stands out, but psychologically you’ll probably want to see the ocean, so drive as much of the route as you wish and ride to the sea.
Adding miles: From the turn-around spot you have 200 miles of Hwy 1 between you and San Francisco, all of it visually spectacular but plagued with traffic from light to ghastly. The first 36 miles, to Mendocino, are particularly gorgeous, with heavy traffic only from MacKerricher State Park on. If you can arrange a shuttle or you’re through-riding, the ride from Leggett to Fort Bragg is really a better ride than the one I’ve mapped because you don’t have to climb back up the hill.
At the trailhead, Hwy 271, which you may have ridden some of to warm up on, is 10 miles of very pleasant, fairly flat riding that parallels and crosses over Hwy 101—well worth riding.
Our Branscomb Road ride is only a few miles south of the turn-around on Hwy 1, which offers the possibility of a truly epic loop: Leggett to the sea, down Hwy 1 to Branscomb, up Branscomb to Laytonville, up Hwy 1 to Hwy 271, 271 back to Leggett—total 74 miles, with 17 miles on Hwy 101 to be endured:
Distance: 58 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 5844 ft
This ride was suggested by Friend of Bestrides Brian.
This is a good, solid ride. I thoroughly enjoyed it, though it has no extraordinary features. It’s got some nice rollers, a very pretty, flat stretch through a fairly dramatic river canyon, one fairly easy climb, one somewhat harder climb, and a totally unremarkable town, Covelo, at the turn-around. It’s 10 miles down the road from my beloved Branscomb Rd. ride, and I wouldn’t do this one until I’d done that one.
It’s the only paved road by which Coveloans can leave town, and the river attracts lots of water seekers in the summer, so traffic can be substantial. I recommend doing it early in the morning or sometime other than summer or both. Anyway, the Eel River Canyon is prettier in early morning, before the sun gets high. The seven-mile stretch from the Eel River Bridge to Dos Rios is the ride’s best scenery, and it’s essentially flat, which makes it a rarity in Bestrides. The elevation total gives the impression of a laborious outing, but I didn’t find it hard at all. The only time you’ll work is the 2-mile hill just before the turn-around, and that’s never worse than 6-8%.
Highway 162 winds west to east across much of California and shows up in Bestrides more than once. For instance, it’s the road from which the Bald Rock Road ride, northeast of Oroville, takes off. Here we are at the western terminus, where it deadends on Hwy 101. There’s a large dirt parking lot 1/4 mile up 162. Ride to Covelo (KOH vuh low) on Hwy 162 (aka Covelo Road, a name I’ve only seen on maps); turn around and ride back.
The Eel River Canyon at sunrise—note the abandoned rail bed on the left bank
You begin with 8 miles of rollers. In this world, some rollers are too small to notice, some are so large each uphill pitch kills all your momentum and enthusiasm, and some are just right, big enough to notice but small enough that you can power up the upslopes standing and feel buff at the crest. Covelo Road’s rollers are pretty much ideal. The scenery is conventional brush and small tree. You’re following a creek, but you can’t see it.
After 8 miles you cross the Eel River Bridge and follow the river for 7 miles (to Dos Rios) through a moderately grand canyon that I think is quite fetching. The pitch is about 1% down overall and seems flat except for a bump or two, so it’s no work at all, in either direction. You’re in the midst of a rocky canyon in full sun, so if you’re out there on a hot summer afternoon, you will die. (I did it in July at 7 am—perfect.) On the plus side, you’ve got countless swell swimming holes to choose from, which is why the turn-outs are full of cars in the summer afternoon. Seriously consider taking a swim suit.
Dos Rios is a tiny enclave of tiny houses 1/2 mile off the road (clearly signed, invisible from the road) with no services.
The riding along the river is nearly flat
At the Dos Rios Bridge the road leaves the river and begins to climb moderately for about 5 miles. The road is a big, wide two-lane, clearly designed for 60-mph car traffic, so the excitement level is pretty low, but it’s pretty easy climbing—about 4-7%, with no tough pitches.
At the summit the road goes up and down, with some nice views, then drops for 4 miles and bottoms out onto the dead flat, dead straight road through Round Valley, a completely developed farming region that looks just like any other small farming valley in California. It takes you to Covelo, a small but fully functional town I can find no reason to get to, so I like to turn around at the summit and save myself the 4-mile return climb, which is the hardest work on the route.
The climb up from the river—made for fast descending
The 5-mile descent back to Dos Rios, because the road is groomed for car traffic, is about as mellow as 30-mph corners can get, with big, manicured curves you can take at full speed without a care. Don’t expect too much in the way of hair-raising. If you’re timid about descending, you’ll love it.
Shortening the route: Start at the Eel River Bridge. Skip the descent into Covelo.
Adding Miles: If you are set up for dirt, you can continue on Hwy 162 through Covelo, ride through Mendocino National Forest and Mendocino Pass, and descend (having returned to pavement) to Hwy 5 on a road that has nice moments. Also mostly in the dirt, the Laytonville-Dos Rios Road, a true back-back-country road, will take you on an adventure from the one town to the other on a tread not much bigger than a driveway. From the Dos Rios Bridge, ride into Dos Rios and just keep riding on the only road out of town. I haven’t done it, but I’m told it’s done. You’re 10 miles from the Branscomb Road ride, which takes you to the ocean.
Afterthoughts: There are no services and no water source between Hwy 101 and Covelo. Plan your water carefully, especially if you’re turning back before Covelo. I take a third water bottle and stash it at the Dos Rios Bridge for the last 15 miles. There’s nothing at the Hwy 101/Hwy 162 junction either.
A local told me Covelo Road was famous for car crashes. He also mentioned that there’s an enormous Indian reservation just outside town. Draw your own conclusions.
Distance: 22 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 2600 ft
This is another of those “worthwhile if you’re in the area” rides. It’s 22 miles of small two-lane back road through pretty but not extra-special Sierra foothill forest. You pass through a small but bustling mountain community, Berry Creek, which unfortunately makes the first third of the route surprisingly trafficky for a foothill road. You will do some work—2100 ft of gain in the 11-mile ride out—but it’s never steep.
Two features elevate this ride above the perfectly pleasant. First, rollers. The road is all up and down, so much so that there is only a 1465-ft. difference in elevation from start to turn-around but 2100 ft of vert on the road (in other words, you ride every vertical foot 1.5 times). This has its charm. It means the climbing on the ride out is constantly interrupted by little descents, and on the ride back the descending comes in short, fast runs interrupted by short risers, so about the time you think you have to brake the contour does it for you. The riding experience is ever-changing.
Second: Bald Rock, the greatest rock formation the world has never heard of (see photos at the end of this post). Take slippers or sandals and plan to get off the bike and explore—you will be enchanted.
Begin where Bald Rock Road takes off from Highway 162, just south of Berry Creek. There is no attractive place to park, and the first 1/2 mile of Bald Rock Rd. is steep, so you might skip it and drive to the large dirt turn-out just up BRR. Ride to where Bald Rock Rd. returns to Hwy 162. Turn around and ride back. You can start at the turn-around (look for the Brush Creek Work Center sign on 162), but it gives you 75% of the descending up front and leaves the hard climbing until the end of the ride, which I never like.
Between Zink and Zink
In a couple of miles you enter Berry Creek, a tiny mountain community (a country store, a church, a school, a community center) that used to be famous for illegal pot growing (and the consequent frequent murders) but is now busily recasting itself as a bedroom community. Hence the hustle and bustle, which can seriously impact the vehicle traffic. Once through “town,” traffic is essentially non-existent.
Near the top
The best part of the ride—best woods, best road contour—is from the Zink Rd. turn-off (unmissable on your L) to the return of Zink Rd. (a little less unmissable, still on your L) several miles along. (Zink Rd. itself is dirt after 2 miles, and highly rideable if you’re set up for dirt, though why you’re prefer it to Bald Rock I don’t know—it would just mean you missed the best part of the ride).
Midway into the ride you pass the trailhead for Bald Rock (unmissable large sign on your L). Stash your bike. A dead easy quarter-mile walk takes you to a mind-boggling granite bluff covering several acres on the lip of a cliff overlooking the Feather River Canyon. It’s as good as anything in Canyonlands or Arches National Parks (see photos below). You’ll probably have the place to yourself. Why it isn’t on every travel magazine’s bucket list, I don’t know.
Back on your bike, the 1/2 mile or so of road surrounding the trailhead is as good a short stretch of riding as there is anywhere—a perfect 25-mph slalom through picture-book woods. You’ll want to do it two or three times.
Adding Miles: The pickings are slim. Bald Rock Rd. takes off from Hwy 162, which features briefly in our Oroville to Forbestown ride. It goes to cool places—Bucks Lake and Quincy—but in the main it’s a ton of climbing on endless, unvarying, straight pitches on the shoulder of a wide, busy road. I hate it, though the vistas can be good.
You can add 4 miles by riding the 2 miles of paved Zink Rd. out and back. An out and back on Rockefeller Rd. will also let you add some miles before turning to gravel.
Several fine rides are a short car trip away (see the Bestrides locator map).
Distance: 21 miles one way
Elevation gain: 2835 ft
This is one of seven rides (all detailed in the Adding Miles section of the Mountain View Road ride) that are worth doing around Boonville, a charming little town with good food and an interesting history, so I encourage you to find a place to stay in the area, make a cycling holiday out of it, and do all of them.
This road parallels Mountain View Road, which is 5 miles to the south, and the two are similar. Both roads are trips through standard coastal pine/redwood forest with a good dose of 8-10% climbing. This one is less isolated that MVR (a vehicle a mile or more), but it’s prettier and easier and it has a better road surface (though it’s still often poor). It makes for a shorter loop if you’re returning on Hwy 128, so if I was just doing one of the two I’d go with Philo-Greenwood unless I wanted a) a bigger climbing challenge, b) more Hwy 1 riding, or c) to visit Manchester. I’ve mapped the ride as one way because I assume you’ll want to return on 128, which is covered in the Mendocino/Comptche ride. The Philo-Greenwood/Cameron Road/Hwy 128 loop is 42 miles.
Begin riding at the intersection of Hwy 128 and Philo-Greenwood Road just north of Philo. The community of Philo is little more than an apple stand (Gowan’s Oak tree—can’t miss it, worth a stop for the apple juice), so you might want to ride from Boonville, 5 miles south of Philo, thus adding about 12 miles.
Philo-Greenwood Road
Head down PGR. Almost immediately you pass the turn-off to Hendy Woods State Park, a lovely stand of old-growth redwoods that charges a substantial fee. Just past HWSP, you begin a hard 4-mile climb, an unrelenting grind that averages 8% but is frequently 10-12%. Almost all of the hard work on the ride is right here. The forest is very pretty—prettier, I think, than Mountain View Rd., though the fact that I rode it after a rainstorm may be the reason. Watch for glimpses of the Navarro River watershed through the trees on your right. Right after the very first little downhill, at 3.5 miles, Signal Ridge Rd. goes off to the L—consider riding it (see details in Adding Miles).
When the bulk of the climbing is over, you roll pretty constantly up and down through more pretty woods, with pitches up to 8%, past scattered farms to the intersection of PGR and Cameron Rd, 15.2 miles in. The road surface, which in the beginning randomly varies from good to poor, deteriorates as you approach the intersection, until in the last miles it’s consistently rough.
At the intersection you have a clear choice. PGR plummets down to the sea (the intersection is exactly at the lip of the precipice, with a sign reading “10% grade (down) 2 miles”). Cameron, to the R, goes to the same ocean in over twice the distance (5.6 miles vs. 2.5 miles) and thus is half as steep. So stay on PGR if you want high drama and smoking brake pads, you want to see Elk (a tiny community with a good diner), or you want to ride the very nice stretch of Hwy 1 north to Hwy 128. Go right on Cameron if you want a relatively mellow and much straighter descent (15-25 mph). I’ve mapped it the mellow way. The road surface remains less than you’d wish but never awful.
Cameron Road
Cameron meets Hwy 1 about 1 mile south of the Navarro River bridge. Just south of the bridge, a paved road goes into Navarro Beach, a sweet patch of sand where the river flows into the sea. You’ll find interesting historical placards (it’s part of the Navarro Redwoods State Park), good sea stacks, and driftwood sculpture—well worth a detour.
Shortening the route: Unless you cut PGR drastically short, you won’t save much by turning around, because Hwy 128 is much easier riding that returning on PGR. I’d opt for the full PGR/128 loop.
Adding mIles: I fully expect you to return to Philo via 128, whose praises are sung in the Mendocino/Comptche ride. If you want to make an epic out of it, turn south at the west end of PGR and return on Mountain View Rd. For other rides in the area, see Adding Miles in the Mountain View Road post.
Three and a half miles into our ride, Signal Ridge Rd. goes off to the L and goes 1.5 miles before turning to dirt. I know it’s just 3 miles out and back, but it is a precious three miles I strongly encourage you to do—a true one-lane road that dips and dives deliciously through gorgeous woods on its way to the few cabins that live up the road.
This loop is a classic Bay Area cycling club ride, and it offers a number of pleasures: a lovely, rambling section of the San Francisco Bay Trail, much of it closed to cars; two small, charming Bay Area communities and proximity to a third; a train; two grand bridge crossings over the Carquinez Strait, where the Sacramento River Delta empties into San Pablo Bay; two old urban cemeteries; a nice optional climb, and swell views of the Strait from every angle. It’s mostly moderate up and down, neither easy nor hard (the Scenic Drive leg of the ride is 14 miles, 1370 ft of gain, out and back, for instance). There are about 4 miles of unrewarding, rundown residential slog. There is no reason why you can’t ride the loop in either direction, though everyone seems to go counter-clockwise.
(RWGPS shows the bike trail through the Benicia State Rec Area as unpaved. It’s paved.)
Take the Crockett/Pomona St. exit from Hwy 80 coming from the south. Continue down Pomona and park in the little Park and Ride parking lot you run into almost immediately on your R. Continue down Pomona on your bike. You’ll ride straight through downtown Crockett (or “Sugar City,” as they call themselves, from the C and H sugar plant on the shore) and continue out the other side. After about a mile Pomona turns into the Carquinez Scenic Drive and the best part of the loop begins. It’s a sweet little back road that’s been converted into something like a multi-use rec trail. It’s open to cars for a stretch at either end, but the center section of roadway, the George Miller Regional Trail, is closed to cars, so there’s no through traffic and thus almost no traffic at all on most of it. The road traverses the steep sidehill overlooking the Carquinez Strait, and the vistas of the Strait, the sailboats and working ships thereupon, and the Benicia-Martinez Bridge to the east, are guaranteed to make your soul sing. Along the water’s edge, far below you, there’s an active railroad line, so you’re likely to see a train huffing past. In the middle of the ride you’re simultaneously in or on the George Miller Trail, the Carquinez Scenic Drive, the San Francisco Bay Trail, and the Carquinez Strait Regional Shoreline, if you’re into labels.
Carquinez Scenic Drive
The road surface where the road is open to cars is often rough, but the GMRT itself is glass. There are occasional picnic tables along the route, so you can bring lunch.
From Scenic Drive looking east, toward Benicia Bridge, with Benicia on the L and train passing below
There are two attractive spurs off this leg: the road to Port Costa and McEwen Rd. Port Costa is a tiny river port town turned artistes’ enclave consisting of a hotel, a restaurant, a saloon, a mercantile, a hat shop and a couple other things, well worth a visit. You could almost throw a blanket over the entire town. The detour adds almost no work to the ride—Port Costa is a very gentle 1/2 mile off the main route. Watch for the small sign marking the turn-off on your L.
Soon after the Port Costa turn-off you pass McEwen Rd. on your R. Take it if you want to do a pretty and invigorating (code for “hard”) creekside climb on a very small road. It’s steep at first, then mellows to moderate, then mellows further to sweet open rollers. At the top of McEwen you have two choices. You can turn L and take perfectly pleasant Franklin Canyon Rd. into Martinez—if you do, follow Alhambra into town to get back on our route. Franklin Canyon is a relaxing, gentle, steady descent on a big, straight domesticated two-lane road, so if you want more drama turn around at the top of McEwen and ride back down the way you came, then continue on the Scenic Drive.
If you’re a fan of old cemeteries, you’ll pass two nice ones on the CSD, across from each other: the Alhambra Cemetery and St. Catherine of Siena. The former is locked, but can be accessed by requesting permission from Martinez or hopping the fence. St. Catherine’s is open and has a much more romantic ambience.
Benicia Bridge bike/pedestrian lane
The serpent in this Eden is motorcycle traffic. The Port Costa area is motorcycle central, and, while the George Miller Trail keeps them from through-riding the Scenic Drive, it doesn’t keep them from riding the first miles and up and down McEwen, which they love to do. The last time I rode McEwen on a weekend, I was passed (on a very small, windy road) by at least 200 motorcycles. The last time I rode it, on a Friday in March, I never saw a motorcycle.
The Scenic Drive debouches in Martinez, a full-size town with considerable character. John Muir’s house is very near where you enter town. Supposedly the martini was invented here. The downtown section is vital and charming, and I encourage a detour down Main St. just a couple of minutes off our route.
From here on, the route is complex. I’m not going to guide you through all the turns. Take a good map, my route, and a phone with googlemaps, and find your way, only abiding by one principle: stay as close to the water as you can.
View west from Benicia Bridge, with Carquinez Bridge in far distance
Ride straight through Martinez on Escobar until it’s time to hop on the Benicia-Martinez Bridge (you’ll know immediate if you pass it). Cycling across bridges can be hairy, but this (and the Zampa Bridge later) has a lovely, wide, separated bike/pedestrian lane that make the trip as unthreatening as a huge bridge can be, and the views downstream through the Strait to the Carquinez Bridge to the west, usually enhanced by a huge tanker or two at work below you, are grand.
From Zampa Bridge Looking west over San Pablo Bay—Mt. Tamalpais on the L horizon
Ride into the quaint, upscale village of Benicia. My route takes you off the through-route long enough to ride through the waterside downtown and out onto the town pier, where you can commune with the gulls and use the good bathrooms at the pier’s end.
Once out of Benicia, the quality of the rides drops off and continues to deteriorate as you approach the outskirts of Vallejo, no one’s favorite city. Be sure to find the Benicia State Recreation Area and the bike path that runs through it to minimize your time on the large and busy Columbus Parkway. Then slog it out (my route has no virtues other than directness—feel free to find another) until you enter the bike/pedestrian lane crossing the Zampa Bridge, which, in a brilliant stroke of socialist fervor, is named after, not some cigar-chomping politico fat cat, but an actual guy, Al Zampa, an iron worker who lent his sweat to the building of several Bay Area bridges and actually fell off the Golden Gate Bridge during its building. There’s a moving plaque detailing his accomplishments at one end of the bridge. And check out this magnificent picture of Al.
From the bridge, the views (again to the west) are breath-taking, though now you’re gazing at the expanse of San Pablo Bay and Mt. Tamalpais in the distance. Once off the bridge, you’re a stone’s throw from your car.
Shortening the route: If you’re out for an easy, quiet day, ride from our starting point to Martinez and back (16 miles). If you’re out for something even easier, drive to the gate blocking cars from entering the GMRT (there’s a parking lot) and just ride the GMRT out and back.
An alternative route to ours, one that skips both bridges and the Vallejo morass and adds a climb, is to ride out the Carquinez Scenic Drive, go up McEwen, take Franklin Canyon into Martinez, and take the CSD home. Incredibly, this route is only slightly shorter than the full loop—21 miles—and is more work.
Local color along the Benicia shore (tide’s out)
Adding Miles: From Martinez you can easily ride south via the big but pleasant Alhambra Ave. to the network of roads around Briones Park—Alhambra Valley Rd., Reliez Valley Rd., Bear Valley Rd.—all worth riding, and continue on until you connect with the southern sections of the Grizzly Peak Boulevard to Redwood Road ride.
If you’re like me, you think Bakersfield is flat, which is what you see driving through on Hwy 5. But a Friend of Bestrides wrote in to say I had to overcome my prejudices and try the area. It turns out that Bakersfield, while it is smack in the middle of the San Joaquin Valley, is at the Valley’s southernmost tip, so it’s surrounded closely on 3 sides by mountains like the Tehachapis, and there are good roads in those mountains. The Caliente Loop is the jewel in the crown.
But there’s a problem: I can’t decide which direction is better. I rode the loop counter-clockwise. Most locals ride it clockwise. I’ll describe my ride; then we’ll weigh pros and cons of the two directions.
The loop (called Lion’s Trail by the locals) is essentially three different rides: a gentle meander through a small, rocky creek canyon; a flat and rolling leg across a wide valley dotted with horse farms and sagebrush, and a descent of epic proportions with vistas of the canyons on both sides of the road.
Caliente Creek Road in October
This is a ride you want to time correctly, and the window is small: ideally you’d ride in the spring, when the creek you’ll follow for the first 20 miles is babbling and the grassy fields of the second leg are green. But spring means spring run-off, and any significant run-off closes the road, because Caliente Creek Rd. has several places where high run-off water flows right over the roadway. I’d expect to find a “road closed” sign and ford some streams any time before the dry season.
Summer poses its own problems. Bakersfield in the summer is hot and often windy, and the middle leg through Walker Basin is totally exposed. On a typical summer day I’d start early enough to get through Walker Basin by 10 AM.
One more word of warning: you will notice the road surface is sprinkled with the remains of dried cow patties. Cows put them there. This is open range, and you may meet cows standing in the middle of the road at almost any point.
Caliente Creek Rd, with typical creek crossing
Park in the “town” of Caliente, which is a tiny post office and around 20 unprepossessing houses. On the way there, assuming you’re driving from Bakersfield, you’ll see the turn-off to a road with one of my favorite road names: Weedpatch Highway.
The first 16 miles or so from Caliente are easy, but conserve energy, because you’re going to climb almost without interruption for 22 miles, and the last 6 miles are taxing.
Ride the 3 miles to the Y of Caliente Creek Rd. and Caliente Bodfish Rd. (clearly signed, as Cal Creek Rd and Cal Bodfish Rd). Turn R onto Caliente Creek Rd. It’s an easy grade up through a scenic and charming little canyon—my favorite part of the ride. It’s a classic desert canyon, with bold rock formations, sycamores, and impressive cottonwoods.
The canyon is almost people-free, but at “Lorraine,” which is only an intersection with Indian Creek Rd. (signed), the canyon widens, the area becomes more domesticated, and houses become common. The land gets flatter and more open and the population and affluence level keep increasing until Twin Oaks, when you’re in the land of high-end “equestrian” training facilities. Twin Oaks is a real community, with a general store (now closed), a second-hand store, a school, a cafe (Tog’s, which I couldn’t find), an absurdly large contemporary church, and even a town sign. Everything but residential streets (everybody has a ranch).
Walker Basin Road
Around Twin Oaks the pitch increases substantially, and from there to the summit at 22+ miles in you will work. The summit follows a series of false summits, but it’s unmissable: Piute Mtn. Road takes off to the R (signed), and signs tell you that Cal(iente) Creek Rd is ending and Walker Basin Rd is beginning.
Walker Basin is a large open valley surrounded by hills—classic high desert, mostly unpeopled but with a few hardscrabble ranches. After the summit you descend to the valley floor, which is relatively flat and straight and the scenery OK or great, depending on how you feel about sagebrush desert.
The descent on Cal-Bodfish Road—MUCH steeper than it looks
At mile 29 you have your first significant intersection since you turned onto Caliente Creek Rd., a 90-degree L turn from Walker Basin Rd. onto Walker Basin Rd.—clearly signed, just like that. Take it. In 3 miles of easy riding you T into Caliente Bodfish Rd. Go L. You’ll do a 2-mile, 700-ft climb (tough this far into the ride if you’re as tired as I was), roll for a couple of miles across the summit, and drop into the descent, which takes you all the way back to the Caliente Creek/Caliente Bodfish intersection, which you rode through before.
View from the descent
This descent is simply astonishing, a seemingly endless series of steep-to-very steep esses, sometimes on a ridge spine with breath-taking views of the canyons on either side of the road, sometimes deep in gorgeous tree-and-rock-wall forest. It would be one of the top descents in Bestrides were it not for two problems: 1) early and late it’s magnificent, but in the middle miles it’s so steep all you can do is grab your brakes and pray they don’t overheat—not much fun if you still have rim brakes; and 2) the road surface is often badly broken up, so you’re constantly having to abandon your line through a turn and improvise a new one, which means you have to go slow—again, not much fun. Joe in the comment below says the lower half has been repaved, which helps. As it is, it’s still pretty mind-boggling.
From the intersection with Caliente Creek Rd it’s 3 miles back to the Greater Caliente Area and your car.
Which way to go?: See the vigorous debate about this in the comment section, with me on one side and everyone else on the other. Make your decision by the kind of climbing you like to do. Clockwise puts all the climbing in two pitches. The first, 3 miles in, is a monster—7 miles with lots of 10% stuff. The second is a more moderate climb out of Walker Basin. Everything else is down. Counterclockwise spreads the climbing over 24+ miles of route, so the pitch averages less than half that of the other direction, and the climbing is never brutal. Wind direction may also factor in your decision, since Walker Basin is open and largely flat and the prevailing westerly is in your face on the counterclockwise route.
Shortening the route: Start at the intersection of Caliente Creek Rd. and Caliente Bodfish Rd. Ride to the Indian Creek Road intersection. Turn around.
Adding miles: Bestrides commenters offer up several great suggestions for routes below. Other local routes are at https://kernwheelmen.org/routes/, though the heartless Kern Wheelmen require you to join the club (in other words, pay them) before you can access the site. Popular rides are Breckinridge Rd. and Hwy 155/Evans Rd from town to Greenhorn Summit, both big climbs. Hwy 155 is a moderately tame road and I don’t find that I need a ton of it. A shorter version of the Hwy 155 ride starts in the town of Woody (named for a guy who last name was Woody) and immediately goes uphill for 6 miles of moderate work. Those 6 miles are a hoot coming down, so it makes for a nice 12-mile, one-hour+ outing (see photo below).
The area around and north of 155 is full of roads all worth riding: Portuguese Pass, Hot Springs Road, Sherman Pass Road, and everything near to or connecting them. The drawback is, everything in this area is geologically and botanically similar (rolling grassy hills and small canyons dotted with rock outcroppings and oaks), so one road is much like another, and after a while I want to see something else. I’d suggest going with the smallest road I can find, but that’s me.
One quirky little road I really like and you’re unlikely to find on your own is the 9 miles of Woody Rd between the town of Woody and Tule Rd. It’s deserted, with a road surface that’s a bit beaten up but totally rideable, a wonderfully random contour, and some dramatic rock clusters I found nowhere else in the area. To the west you have a vista overlooking 30 miles of featureless grassy mounds. Don’t take the road’s name literally—there isn’t a tree anywhere near your route, so don’t ride it on a blistering summer day (see photo below).
Deserving of mention for sheer audacity is Deer Trail Drive (aka Deertrail Drive and The Bear, for obvious reasons), a climb on private property that’s 9 miles long and averages 10.6%! I haven’t done it and have no intention of doing it.
Highway 155
Cows are an ever-present possibility on the Caliente Loop
Distance: 19 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 2770 ft
This is another of those rides that has location going for it. What else are you going to do if you’re stuck in Coalinga? It’s a classic climb from the lip of the Hwy 5 corridor up 10 miles through hardscrabble hills of grass, rock, and oak. The scenery is quite lovely in its way. It’s at its best in spring when the grassy hills are green. Grand vistas of the San Joaquin Valley below abound. The road surface is sound (which is all you can ask, since no one uses this road save the rare ranchers who run a few head of cattle on the hills), and, while the pitch is a tad monotonous, the back-and-forth contour is constantly stimulating. It’s a fair amount of vert (2000 ft in 6 miles), but it’s just a steady moderate effort, never steep enough to be a grind. The road turns to dirt at the summit, which will keep most cars out of your playground. All in all, a thoroughly rewarding little outing.
Avoid this ride (and Hwy 189) during periods of hot sun—it’s fully exposed. In summer, ride only in early morning. Continue reading →
This is a fairly big, pretty ride through two lush valleys and over three moderate summits. The cumulative elevation gain is substantial, but except for those three ascents the climbing is pretty mellow.
East Carmel Valley Road is the name of Carmel Valley Road east of Carmel Valley Village. You could add miles by riding the first 11.5 miles of CVR, starting at Hwy 1, but it’s all 4-lane, fast, aggressive, over-developed, trafficky shoulder riding. Pretty unpleasant, and, while the scenery is nice, it’s nothing compared to what’s on our route. East of the Village the valley narrows, the valley walls steepen, the traffic lessens and slows down, the people thin out, the foliage gets denser, wetter, and prettier, and the road dwindles until it’s finally a centerline-less, shoulderless back road of exceptional beauty and charm. The road surface varies from good to poor, often poor enough to be a hamper on your riding pleasure.
Traffic is an issue here. Traffic isn’t heavy (3 cars/mile perhaps on a Friday afternoon in spring), but local drivers are hostile and impatient. Sightlines and passing lanes are poor and there’s no shoulder. So timing is everything. The last time I did the ride, on a beautiful Sunday midday in spring, I saw 1 car in 15 miles. Traffic lightens the further east you go, and, as always, the worst time for traffic seems to be 4-5 pm.
Cachagua Road (which means “place of grass” in—you guessed it—Mapudungun) is an alternate to 12 miles of CVR which takes off from it, crosses into the parallel valley to the south, rides along the valley, then climbs and descends the tall ridge that now separates the two valleys and returns to CVR. It’s as pretty as CVR at CVR’s best, it’s quieter, smaller, and windier, and the road surface is better, so you definitely want to take it unless you’re tired and want to get home as easily as possible. It adds about 4 miles and one substantial climb to the route.
Calvin, in the comments below, makes the point that there are no water sources on this ride. So you’re looking at a long day without a refill. You may have to drop a water bottle at the Tassajara Rd. intersection or knock on some doors. Except for the leg from the summit to Arroyo Seco, the entire route is largely in forested shadow, however.
East Carmel Valley Road west of the summit
Begin in Carmel Valley Village, a charming little upscale artsy community with friendly folks and good, unpretentious places to eat, if you like towns where every shop is a wine tasting salon, a spa, or a fine arts gallery (22 wine tasting rooms in a very small town, according to the town map). There are no public bathrooms in the village proper, but there are three bathrooms west of town: at the Chevron at the west end of town, at the visitor’s center/community center/museum/city park complex a bit further west, and Garland Regional Park still further west.
Ride east on East Carmel Valley Road to its end at Arroyo Seco Rd. The first few miles do not impress. You’re still in the Greater CVV Area, and it’s busy. The further you ride, the lighter the traffic becomes, the smaller the road, and the prettier the scenery, until you get to the summit 18 miles in (Mile 30 on the mile markers, which start at Hwy 1). These first 18 miles are mostly all up, but almost all of it is mellow. (Reader Bruce points out that the MWGPS map erroneously goes off-route briefly at mile 3.7—ignore it.). At Mile 10 you get the first and only laborious hill on the ride out (1 mile). Shortly after Tassajara Rd. goes off to the R (remember you saw it), you lose the centerline and things get really good. The canyon is small here, the woods are deep, and you’re riding alongside the creek, crossing it repeatedly on little bridges. It’s all up but never steep.
East Carmel Valley Road east of the summit
At the summit you have a decision: turn around or not? The rest of the ride is very different from what you’ve been through. This is the lee side of the hill, so instead of lush, dark oak canopies in a narrow creek canyon, you get down-at-heel ranches scattered on open, grassy hills and moderate vistas. By the time you get to the turn-around, you’re practically in California desert.
The Cachagua climb—2.5 miles of perfection
Ride back to the Tassajara Road intersection. The last 6 miles of the climb back to the summit are work. The road from the summit to Tassajara is all blissful down. Take Tassajara L, which is the only way it goes. In a short while take Cachagua Rd on your R. Cachagua descends very gradually for a few miles through pretty woods and low-key farms along Cachagua Creek, then does a major climb—2.5 miles of c. 7%—through lovely woods, as you climb over the ridge between Cachagua and Carmel Valley Road. The road meanders constantly and is never boring—a peach of a climb. After summiting and cruising on the flats for a bit, you are treated to a 2-mile, 10% plummet back to CVR. It’s fun, but it’s a lot of braking, so with rim brakes it’s stressful—I imagine with discs it would be a hoot.
Turn L on CVR and ride the 4.3 miles back to the Village.
Looking up the Cachagua descent (steeper than it looks)
There is an argument to be made for riding Cachagua in the other direction, west to east. Instead of a moderately taxing climb and a steep descent, you would have a tougher climb (2 miles at 9-10%), followed by a wonderful descent at high but manageable speed. It’s up to you.
Carmel Valley from the Cachagua descent
Shortening the ride: There are several ways to ride only a part of this route and still preserve the charm and the beauty:
1. Ride to Arroyo Seco Rd. and back on Carmel Valley Rd (57 miles). This skips the big climb on Cachagua.
2. Ride to the summit on Carmel Valley Rd. and return, either via Cachagua or CVR. This skips the climb back up to the CVR summit.
3. Ride to Tassajara Road and take it, then Cachagua, turning the ride into a lollipop that skips the CVR summit in both directions.
4. Since the best legs of the route are Tassajara to the summit and Cachagua Rd., the shortest route that bags both of them is, start at the intersection of Tassajara and Carmel Valley Rd., ride to the summit of CVR, return, ride the Tassajara/Cachagua/CVR loop. That’s the short route I’d do.
Adding miles: At the turn-around at Arroyo Seco Rd. you can continue on Arroyo Seco in either direction. To the L/northeast, there are dramatic views of eroded hills for a few miles. Ride until the landscape isn’t interesting any more, then turn around. To the southwest the road is paved and the scenery dramatic until Arroyo Seco Campground, about 5 miles one way.
To the west of our ride, you’re only 5 miles down Carmel Valley Rd. from the jewel that is the Robinson Canyon Rd. ride. and about 14 miles from the Carmel entrance to the Seventeen-Mile Drive. You’re about 3 miles east of Laureles Grade, an up-and-down pass locals ride constantly and I hate—hot, dull, trafficky shoulder riding full of debris. Good vistas, though.
At first the landscape is wide, flat river-mouth valley with houses, but after the Fish Hatchery you enter the canyon, the “river” (really a small creek) gets wilder, the houses disappear, the traffic lessens, and the road serpentines more. It’s like this to the end. The woods are dense so you glimpse the river in fragments, but it’s always right on your L shoulder. I spent much of my time hugging the L side of the road on the ride in, the better to see the water. The scenery is surprisingly varied: maples, alders, conifers, bare rock walls, mossy rock walls, ferny rock walls, boulder-strewn cascades, wide, open pools. If you’re there in August or after, there are wild berries along the road—delicious. I found my surroundings so consuming that I ghost-pedaled much of the ride at 10 mph, just to take it all in.
I suggest you do your river-watching, berry eating, scenery-gawking, and photo-taking on the ride in, because the return ride is just brisk enough that you’ll want to attend to your cycling.
