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 →
Distance: 30 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 3170 ft
What is more delicious than discovering a great ride where you thought there was none? Tepusquet Road, surely one of the better road names in Bestrides, was suggested to me by a Friend of Bestrides who has local knowledge of Santa Maria. It’s a delightful surprise. Rising out of the flat, dry, dusty agricultural fields, it climbs easily and steadily up through lush, shady canopies of riparian oaks to a pass, then makes a joyous little descent into the valley on the other side. Rewards include grand vistas, lots of banked switchbacks, and a ton of solitude. Not a life-changing ride, but a very good one, made all the more pleasant by how little you were expecting (or did I ruin the surprise now?).
This is an excellent ride for through-riders, because there’s good riding on either end—see Adding Miles below.
The oak canopy
Start at the intersection of Tepusquet and Foxen Canyon Rd. (more on Foxen below) and follow the one and only road to its end, where it T’s into Hwy 166. This being farm land, there are huge dirt shoulders to park on at the trailhead. Immediately start climbing, and climb without interruption at a moderate pace to the summit pass at 9.6 miles. The climbing is consistently mellow, and the trees are beautiful, but it is 10 miles of nearly unaltering pitch, which gets a little monotonous. That lack of variety in the contour is the only negative about the ride. There are houses (at least I saw a lot of mailboxes), but they’re unobtrusive, and the traffic drops to nearly zero soon into the ride.
Just over the summit looking north: your road is dead center
At the obvious summit, you could turn around, but I warn you, the ride back is straight enough and shallow enough to be thoroughly pleasant but not thrilling. For thrill, keep going. The back side of the ride is a notch steeper and much curvier for the next 3 miles, with some very nice banking in the constant switchbacks. Here you can really practice your cornering skills. You’re on the drier north side of the divide now, so the landscape is harsher, but the payoff is, great vistas of the grand valley before you and the hills beyond. You can see your own road ahead of and far below you—always a thrill.
Climbing the back side: drier, curvier
When the descending peters out, it’s a short, mellow roll past backcountry ranches to the dead-end at Hwy 166. Turn around, do the challenging but not nasty 3-mile climb back to the summit (7-8%), and cruise back to your car at a descending pace so leisurely you’ll probably pedal a lot of it for grins.
Shortening the ride: Ride to the summit and turn around, from either side. The north side gives you a more challenging climb and a much better descent, the south side gives you prettier greenery.
Adding miles: As I promised, you can keep riding in either direction. At the southern end you’re on Foxen Canyon Road, a beloved-by-locals (but to my mind fairly ordinary) cycling route that runs to Los Olivos. In Los Olivos you’re in the heart of the Solvang cycling network, discussed in the Mt. Figueroa ride. Cat Canyon Rd. and Palmer Rd. are also reputed to be worth riding.
At the other end, Hwy 166 is a highway but not a frantic one, and you can ride west, then take surface roads paralleling Hwy 101 to the riding around San Luis Obispo, represented in Bestrides by the Huasna Road ride and the Prefumo Canyon Road ride.
Distance: 44 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 4900 ft
This road goes by several names: the Maricopa Highway, the Jacinto Reyes Scenic Byway, and Highway 33. The road contour isn’t fascinating. It’s a “motorcycle road,” designed to be exciting at 60 mph but at 12 mph is fairly tame. This ride is mostly about the scenery and the solitude. It’s a remarkably isolated, stark, and rather grand high desert landscape, with varied and striking rock formations and large vistas, land that seems untouched by Man and so harsh that you understand why.
You can do this road several different ways. You could ride the entire road as an out and back, starting at Meiner’s Oaks on the outskirts of Ojai and turning around at the intersection with Lockwood Valley Rd., giving you a 70-mile day with about 8000 ft of vert—big but doable. But the southern 13 miles, from Meiner’s Oaks to Rose Valley Rd., are monotonous going up and not particularly exciting going down (about a mile north of Rose Valley Rd. there’s a small overlook where you can see several miles of what you’re in for heading south). There’s one moment of interest, Wheeler Gorge, a small rock crevasse bisected by two tunnels, that you’ll be missing if you skip it. You could ride the entire road one way from south to north, which starts the ride with a 30-mile climb and leaves you with the problem of shuttling back to your car. You could ride the entire road one way from north to south—certainly better than south to north, because it minimizes the climbing and turns the southern 13 miles into a painless downhill—but you still have the shuttle problem. The best route is the way I’ve mapped it: start at the Ozena Fire Station just south of the Hwy 33/Lockwood Valley Rd. junction, ride to Rose Valley Rd. and turn around. This gives you all the good scenery, one good, short climb and one good short descent, and a lot of moderate rolling. Of course this does leave you with the problem of how to get to the intersection of Hwy 33 and Lockwood Valley Rd, so the second best route is my route starting at the southern end, which involves you driving 13 miles from Ojai to Rose Valley Rd. and back. Every route has its own inconveniences.
Park in the Ozena Fire Station parking lot. You begin with a brisk but not killer climb (1500 ft in 5 miles), so you may well want to warm up first by doing some flat miles on Lockwood Valley Rd. (for which, see Adding Miles below). Then it’s rollers, mostly gradually down, to the turn-around. You’ll do c. 2000 ft gain in the return to the summit (in 17 miles).
Looking south from just north of Rose Valley Rd., at the 13-mile climb I skip.
You can’t get off the road, so navigation is effortless, and there are no services, quaint country stores, or historical markers along the route, so there’s nothing to be on the lookout for, except the scenery around you. Don’t miss the rock strata exposed by the cut at the very summit (see photo below). If you are through-riding from north to south, do a lot of looking over your shoulder on the climb to and at the summit—by far, the best vistas are behind you. As mentioned, a mile or so before Rose Valley Road there’s an informal pull-off spot with a stunning view of the next 10 miles of so of road (see photo)—it’s hard to miss.
We’re not talking Zion National Park or Bryce Canyon. This isn’t limestone, so it doesn’t sculpt, and the native plantlife is brushy scrub. Check the photos to see if it’s to your taste. I like it a lot.
Be self-sufficient—there’s nothing out there but rock. When I did this ride I saw 3-4 cars. It can get windy out there, and the predominant wind direction is from the north, which can make for a slog getting back to the summit, so check the weather and ride early if a northerly is predicted.
Shortening the route: Reread the route alternatives at the beginning of the post. To shorten the route as I’ve mapped it, drive to the summit and ride south to the turn-around.
Hwy 33
Adding Miles: Lockwood Valley Rd., at your starting point, is a ride worth considering in its own right. For about the first 20 miles from the Maricopa Highway intersection, it’s a desolate, isolated road with a constantly changing contour through desert country of surprising interest. It’s primitive—the road surface is often poor, and there are several flash-flood gully crossings that are impassable after rains.
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.
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.
Distance: 43 miles out and back Elevation gain: 4930 ft
Our Southern California ride list has three rides that are all big, chest-thumping rides up a mighty mountain: Mt. Figueroa, Gibraltar Road, and Glendora Ridge. Of the three, Glendora Ridge is the most monotonous climb, both in pitch and scenery. But it also has the best ridge ride, a rollicking roller coaster, often along the precise ridge spine (see photos below). All three rides are detailed in toughascent.com, and I encourage you to familiarize yourself with his write-ups.
Despite the title, the ride is actually two very different rides, a long steady climb up Glendora Mountain Rd., then a roller along Glendora Ridge Rd. to the ski town of Mt. Baldy. My computer recorded 5930 ft of vert, which puts it in the same category as Figueroa and Gibraltar, but it felt easier and I’m guessing the pitch is less intense. Or I was having a very good day.
A word of warning: At the base of Glendora Mountain Rd. there is a sign reading “No Reckless Driving.” How odd. Are there roads where reckless driving is welcomed? I am reminded of one of my favorite signs near my home, “No illegal dumping here.” But that sign is LA-area code telling you that GMR and GRR are favorite sports car enthusiasts’ proving grounds, where racer wannabe’s come to hone their skills. When I was there, the place was deserted. But see Michael H’s comment below. On a weekend day in fair weather, it might be a bit hairy.
Begin at the intersection of Glendora Mountain Rd. and E. Sierra Madre Road. Ride up Glendora Mt. Rd. The road is a very consistent pitch all the way to the intersection with Glendora Ridge Rd. 9.7 miles in, and the flora is unaltered San Gabriel Mountain shrub. From the get-go you’re in canyon, so the views to the south, which you might imagine would be expansive vistas of Pasadena and points south, are in fact mostly a lot of canyons and ridges (see first photo below). Can’t compare with the views of Santa Barbara, the Channel, and the Channel Islands on the Gibraltar Ride.
View to the south from halfway up the climb
At the intersection, go R onto the ridge road and ride to the intersection of Glendora Ridge and Mt. Baldy Rd. and the town of Mt. Baldy. The joy here is the road contour: it’s up and down and back and forth, mostly up on the ride out, often teetering on the knife-edge of the ridge—as good a ridge ride as I know of.
Climbing out of a saddle on the ridge road—click on/enlarge to appreciate
Mt. Baldy is a ski town, which means it might be pretty buttoned up if you arrive out of ski season, but just into town on the R is Mt. Baldy Lodge, a knotty-pine-and-moose-head restaurant that caters to cyclists (just past a prominent white sign reading “Mt. Baldy Lodge Store”). When I got there it looked closed, but I banged on the door desperate for water, and the owner came out and said, “Oh, riders know just to come around the back onto the patio,” opened up, and fed me cheerfully.
Glendora Ridge spine
The ride back along the ridge is pure joy, almost all of it at a slight descending pitch that makes you feel fast and strong as you pedal through the corners. The ride down Glendora Mountain Rd. is straighter, faster, and more monotonous.
Shortening the route: Drive to the intersection of Glendora Mountain Road and Glendora Ridge Road and ride GRR.
Adding miles: At the intersection of Glendora Mountain Rd. and Glendora Ridge Rd., Glendora Mountain continues on down the back side of the ride for about 7 miles to East Fork Rd. It’s very much like the riding on the front side, perhaps a tad steeper and drier. Going L on East Fork (a nearly flat, pleasant enough road) takes you to San Gabriel Canyon Rd., a big road with shoulder but lightly trafficked, which you can take L for a long, gradual, and fairly pleasant descent back to your car, if you prefer loops to out-and-backs. For a pretty little break in the intensity, check out the West Fork Scenic Byway, about a mile to the R when you hit San Gabriel Canyon Rd. It’s almost a rec path, a closed road (go through the anti-car gate) along a charming trout stream. You’ll only have to share it with two or three fishermen.
In the town of Mt. Baldy you’re looking at an infamously nasty climb of 4.6 miles up Mt. Baldy Rd. to the Mt. Baldy ski area. This is the stretch of road often used to separate the sheep from the goats in the Tour of California. The Tour stage route incorporates everything on our ride, almost everything discussed under Adding Miles, and more. Those guys are nuts.
(A Best of the Best ride)
(A Best of the Best descent)
Some of this route is covered in words and pictures at toughascent.com.
The Santa Monica Mountains are THE road network for cycling in the LA area (see LesB’s excellent overview in the comments section of this ride and follow its links). Everything between Hwy 101 in the north, the ocean in the south, and between Deer Creek Rd. to the west and Topanga Canyon Blvd. to the east is worth exploring, except the major through-routes. If you haven’t been there, it’s pretty much the exact opposite of your LA stereotype—lovely serpentining climbs and descents on small roads largely without car traffic or houses, through wild, rocky, shrubby, narrow, steep canyons.
Most loop routes involve riding a stretch of Hwy 1, the Pacific Coast Highway—you ride the PCH, climb up into the mountains, ride east or west, then descend back to the PCH—but the PCH is surprisingly pleasant. Sure, it’s a zoo, with masses of traffic both automotive and human, but it’s a “scene,” easy to enjoy, and there’s usually ample room for bikes. Once you leave the PCH you will climb, often at 7-10%. The only alternative to steep climbing heading north are the main arteries, Malibu Canyon Road and Topanga Canyon Blvd, and they’re both very busy. This route is only one of many, but it includes what I think is the best descent in the area, and one of the best on the planet: Tuna Canyon Road (named not for the fish but for the tuna, the fruit of the opuntia cactus, aka prickly pear).
The Getty Villa is a stone’s throw to the east of Topanga Canyon Blvd., a perfect way to unwind after a ride. Reservations are recommended. This is not the Getty Museum, which is huge, but rather Getty’s first go at a museum, a cozy little hacienda.
Park at the bottom of Tuna Canyon Rd, or anywhere on the PCH between Tuna Canyon and Malibu Canyon Rd. Parking along the PCH is surprisingly easy—much of it has a free unstructured parking curb along the north side. Ride the PCH west to Malibu Canyon Rd. and take it north. MCR is basic hectic shoulder riding, but it’s only for 4.5 miles. It’s quite a striking canyon visually and would be a great ride were it not for the heavy traffic and occasional lack of shoulder room. There are formal little turn-outs for you to take photos and regain your nerve. It’s big easy rollers—you’ll gain about 250 ft in the 4.5 miles.
Piuma Road
Turn R onto clearly marked Piuma Rd. and climb at 6-8% without interruption for 5.5 miles to an obvious saddle—you’ll see the radio tower marking the summit as you approach. This is pristine climbing through lovely, wild country and along a ridge spine with great views of the Santa Monica mountains to the west and north and the coastline and ocean to the south. I saw 2 or 3 cars. The road contour is so delicious, the first time I rode it I abandoned my ride plan and turned around at the summit to enjoy the descent. Which I give you permission to do.
Malibu Canyon Road from Piuma Road: you just rode up that
But Tuna Canyon awaits, and it’s better. Descend a mile past the saddle and go L on Schueren Rd., go R onto Saddle Peak Rd, and follow it to Tuna Canyon. Go R on TCR and enter paradise. The houses disappear, you’re absolutely alone, and you have a bucket-list, glassy, graceful, steep slalom descent through a pristine coastal canyon. And it’s a one-way road, down only, so you have the whole road to yourself—no chance of on-coming traffic (except for the occasional scofflaw cyclist). Pure bliss.
Shortening the route: You can ride up Las Flores Canyon Rd, which is very steep. You can ignore the One Way signs on Tuna Canyon and ride it as an out-and-back—Jeff below encourages this (it’s 8.3% average, with moments of 14%). But, as Charles points out after Jeff, to do so seriously imperils descending riders, who have every reason to expect an empty road, and I encourage you not to do this. Or you can ride up Topanga Canyon Rd. (boring, busy, but not dangerous or difficult) and back down Tuna.
You can youtube videos of Tuna Canyon descents if you want a preview.
Tuna Canyon Road: just a perfect 4 miles
Adding miles: Many other roads in the area are reputed to be good, though I haven’t ridden them: Yerba Buena Rd., Encinal Canyon Rd., Latigo Canyon Rd., Las Flores Canyon Rd., Old Topanga Canyon Rd.—everything that’s a fine line on the AAA map. As always, avoid the bigger roads: Decker, Malibu Canyon Rd., Kanan, and Topanga Canyon Blvd. See comments below for more suggestions.
Tuna Canyon Road dropping to the sea
The most famous and most ridden road in the area is Mulholland Highway, but I wouldn’t ride it except out of necessity because of the traffic and the general air of reckless mayhem. Before you venture forth on it, google the Youtube videos of cyclists being wiped out and motorcycles crashing for recreation on it.
If you want to go big and get a grand survey of the area’s roads in one throw, ride the route of the Mike Nosco Memorial, an 80-mile loop (with 8900 ft vert) ridden once a year as a group ride by the locals to honor one of their own. Better yet, join the ride, on Nov. 3—it’s even free. The route includes the toughest climb in the area, Deer Creek Rd., which leaves Hwy 1 near Pt. Mugu State Park and reaches pitches of 18%.
Our Southern California ride list has three rides that are all big, chest-thumping rides up a mighty mountain: Mt. Figueroa, Gibraltar Road, and Glendora Ridge. Of the three, Gibraltar is the hardest, feels the biggest, and has the grandest vistas. Some of my readers call it one of the best rides in California. I prefer Figueroa, but Gibraltar is mighty. All three rides are detailed in toughascent.com, and I encourage you to familiarize yourself with his write-ups.
Gibraltar is an iconic ride—a demanding, uninterrupted 9-mile climb up the mountain to a summit, a delightful 2-mile serpentine descent, a 2-mile climb to a lesser summit, and another long descent down the back side. It’s 3800 ft of gain in 23 miles (Mt. Figueroa has more gain but less gain-per-mile) and one of the toughest climbs I know. That may be because it’s without rest or variety, and, unless you know the route, you can’t see how much climbing lies ahead, so the climb seems eternal. You keep thinking it’s over, and it isn’t. To guard against this, know as you set out that you are going to climb at a moderate-to-challenging pitch for 9 miles, with one short descent near the top that is only a set-up for heartbreak when the climbing comes back. Despite my caution, this ride has spectacular vistas, good surfaces, some crackerjack descending, and a general sense of epic grandeur. When you’re done, you’ll feel like you accomplished something.
As with all these Southern California mountain rides, there is no available water on the route (until Painted Cave Road), and it can be very hot in the summer. Plan accordingly.
A number of readers say they prefer the ride in the opposite direction (clockwise).
Begin at the intersection of W. Mountain Drive and Hwy 192. (W. Mountain actually runs on top of 192 briefly, and you want where it splits off at the east end.) Ride north on W. Mountain and ignore side roads until you see Gibraltar Rd. clearly signed at an intersection. Climb through dry, brushy hillsides with a nice, rugged beauty. The vistas of Santa Barbara, the Santa Barbara Channel, and the Channel Islands below you are immediately good and keep getting better the higher you climb. Keep looking behind you—some of the best views are of the switchbacks you just rode. The climbing averages 8.5% for the next 6.4 miles. You start off at 7%, then here’s a stretch of 5-6% as respite in the middle, and then it ramps up to 8-10% around mile 4, and stays that way for the next 2.4 miles—the hardest part of the ride. This last steep stretch used to be made even harder by some seriously flawed road surface, but the Tour of California peloton rode it in 2016 (again in 2018) and the authorities repaved it for them, so now it’s ideal.
Looking back on the first leg of the climb
At 6.4 miles, in the middle of nowhere, you reach, of all things, an intersection, with a big sign with lots of road names on it. You’re intersecting East Camino Cielo Rd. to the L and the R. Go R (the obvious “other” road) if you want to do an out-and-back with more climbing and good vistas, in which case, you da man. Our route follows the main road to the L. You’ve got about 3 more miles of climbing still to do, all of it at a significant pitch, but nothing as steep as what you’ve just done. Enjoy the brief ripping descent following the intersection (but don’t get fooled into thinking the work is over) and climb to the summit, at about 9 miles in. And I do mean summit—it’s a true mountain top, covered with radio antennae you can see coming. The views, in all directions, beggar description.
Looking back at Santa Barbara and the Channel Islands from halfway up
Begin a 2-mile, open, joyous descent down the west side of the mountain. This may be the best descending on the route. Once I met a teenager skate-boarding down it, and to him I say chapeau. Then it’s a 2-mile ascent—same old 6-8%—that can be a complete surprise and will kill your spirit if you don’t know it’s coming.
At about mile 16 you have a choice: you can take Painted Cave Rd. to your L, or you can stay on Camino Cielo. It’s a tough choice. Painted Cave is an often absurdly steep and twisty descent—you don’t ride it, you just survive it. We’re talking clamped brakes, cramping hands (if you’re still on rim brakes), 8 mph down 14% pitches (Does anybody ride up this thing?)(Apparently yes—see user comments below). The rest of Camino Cielo is a classic, tight serpentine drop on glass down to Hwy 154. So why not opt for that? Because it commits you to a few miles of unpleasantly trafficked shoulder riding on 154. My advice: do Painted Cave once, for the experience, and never again.
Nothing much north of the ridge
If you’re going the Painted Cave route, be warned: it’s very hard to see the turn-off. It’s almost invisible, it comes when you’re very busy negotiating some fast switchbacks, and it slants back at about 7 o’clock, so watch your mileage. There is a road sign, but it’s oddly situated so it probably won’t help you find it.
Once on top, you roll, then you descend
Whichever way you go, where Painted Cave crosses Hwy 154 it becomes Old San Marcos Pass Rd. (aka North San Marcos Pass Rd.), which you take. It’s a fun, deserted, twisty road back to town with good views and some turns signed at 5 mph (and they aren’t kidding). Once I met a guy unicycling down the 8% pitch of Old San Marcos Pass. Incredible.
As always, I haven’t included in our ride the connector ride that closes the loop, because it isn’t great riding, but you’ll probably have to do it anyway, so: just ride down Cathedral Oaks Rd., which becomes Foothill Blvd./Hwy 192, to your car, which is 6 miles of not-unpleasant residential rollers on a big two-lane road with good shoulder (not flat—c. 850 ft of gain in those miles). If you know you’re doing the loop, park at our route’s end-point, in lovely Tucker’s Grove County Park, and do the flat(ter) riding first to warm up.
Shortening the route: Forget it—you’re in for the full monty.
Old San Marcos Pass Road
Adding miles: Stephen in the comments below details an excellent out-and-back our loop connects with, Stagecoach Rd., which adds about 10 miles.
You’re a thirty-minute car trip from the Solvang area, discussed under the Mt. Figueroa ride.
Santa Barbara has a famous beachfront you can ride along, though it’s probably more fun to rent roller blades and do the skate path along the beach.
Distance: 28 miles out and back Elevation gain: 2150 ft
There’s a whole genre of literature that testifies to Man’s need to make for the sea occasionally. Amen to that. Especially on a bike. Not ride along the sea—head straight for it. Here’s a ride that does that in classic fashion.
This is not a life-changing ride. You won’t be able to brag to your friends that you bagged it. It’s just a lovely rolling ride to the beach, with a Sixties throw-back beach community straight out of a Gidget movie, and, some say, the best burger in California, at the end of the road. It’s all gentle up and down, with one hill in the middle that’s a bit more than that. The scenery is perfect coastal hill-and-dale, as you ride up a creek drainage, sometimes in the gnarly riparian oaks and sometimes in the grassy hills above them. The road surface used to be an issue but there has been some resurfacing and it’s no longer a problem as of 3/26 (thanks, Stephen) . Not a “big” ride but a jewel.
Park at the intersection of Jalama Rd. and Hwy 1. There’s a large dirt parking lot a stone’s throw up Jalama. Ride to the ocean. About 4 miles in you’ll start a pretty serious 1-mile climb, summit, then do a pretty serious descent. Everything else just rolls up and down peacefully.
Sometimes you’re above the riparian woods
About a mile from the end, you summit a small hill, and suddenly the ocean and coastline are all before you (see photo below). The road drops steeply away in front of you, and it’s a big, fast 10% esse curve plummit to the beach. Now kick back. Adopt the relaxed vibe. Say to someone, “That ho-dad grommet really ate it when he tried to hang ten in the curl.” Grab a world-famous Jalama burger at the Jalama Beach Store. It’s been made from the same secret recipe by the same family since the 1970’s—local legend has it that Ray Kroc was a huge fan and regular customer.
I think there is a fee to use the County Park there, but if you tell the ranger you aren’t staying he’ll let you pass.
Sometimes you’re in the trees
The ride back is the same in reverse. The big hill is a mite bigger in this direction, and the descent down the back side is good for 40 mph.
Shortening the ride: It hardly needs shortening, but if you’re determined, drive down Jalama as far as you need to to make sure you get to the ocean.
Adding miles: You’re a short ride up Hwy 1 from Santa Rosa Rd. (not to be confused with Santa Rosa Creek Rd., also in our list) and the other riding in the Solvang area discussed in the Adding Miles section of the Mt. Figueroa ride. Drive to Lompoc and you can do San Miguelito Rd., which begins as a dull wide two-lane but goes all wild and one-lane in its last miles (thanks, Stephen).
Our Southern California ride list has three rides that are all big, chest-thumping rides up a mighty mountain: Mt. Figueroa, Gibraltar Road, and Glendora Ridge. Of the three, Figueroa is the prettiest, by a long shot. All three are detailed in toughascent.com, and I encourage you to familiarize yourself with his write-ups. I find it’s helpful on big climbs like these to know exactly what lies ahead, so I’ve tried to be unusually detailed about mileages and pitches.
Since there is no reason to drive this road in a car except to gawk at the scenery, and it’s a tough drive, you should be pretty much alone. When I rode it on a Monday in January, I saw 4 cars and no bicycles once I was on the mountain (c. 20 miles). It’s nice to have the road to yourself, but you also can’t expect to be rescued, so take everything you might need.
Figueroa is a ride through farm country, then a ranching valley, a climb up the mountain, a ride across the ridgetop, a drop down the back side, and a ride through another valley. The climb was made famous as a favorite training ride for Lance Armstrong and the Discovery pro cycling team, when the team did an annual spring training camp in the Solvang area. It’s a substantial ride—4700 ft of gain in 40 miles, which is not to be sneezed at, and there’s a lot of 8-10% stuff—but it’s never leg-breaker hard and if you pace yourself it’s very doable. It’s not lush but it’s grand, in its spartan way as pretty a ride mile by mile as any in Bestrides.
Several readers complain about the road surface in the miles before the climbing starts. Apparently it’s pretty horrible now. Caveat emptor.
There is a serious question about which direction to ride the loop in. Locals tend to go clockwise. I have only ridden it counterclockwise, and that’s how I’ve mapped it. But see Nibbles’s comment below for a compelling argument for clockwise. The main drawback to that is that the west side of the mountain is distinctly steeper than the southeast side. One could also make an argument for riding the mountain as an out and back, up and down the east side. If you do that, be sure to continue 2-3 miles past the summit, because the ridge riding is really special.
In warm weather, people ride Figueroa as early in the morning as possible, because the top of the mountain can be windy—very, very windy—later in the day, and you ride on the spine of some razor-edge saddles where there’s a Venturi effect from one side to the other. I rode through there once at about 11 AM, and the wind was already a handful.
Begin in Los Olivos, a charming little tourist town where almost every shop on the main street is a wine shop or antique store. Ride out of town heading south on Grand Ave., the main street, soon go L on Roblar Ave., stay on Roblar through postcard-pretty farmland as it crosses Hwy 154 and makes a ninety-degree turn to the R, at which point its name changes to Mora Ave. Mora dead-ends at Baseline Ave. Go L on Baseline, which runs into Happy Canyon Rd at a signed T intersection. Go L on Happy Canyon and essentially stay on it for the rest of the ride.
Happy Canyon Road
Happy Canyon rolls gently and deliciously upward through stupidly beautiful ranchland. You can see the valley becoming narrower, and soon it dwindles to nothing and the climbing begins at mile 14. If you’re having an easy, non-climbing day, just riding the length of Happy Canyon out and back would be charming (though two commenters say Happy Canyon’s road surface is currently awful).
Climb for exactly 10 miles to an obvious summit, all through hardscrabble but very pretty country. It’s comforting to keep the mileage total in mind so it doesn’t seem endless. The climb starts steep out of the gate, and keeps it up for about 2 miles. Don’t worry—it’s never worse than this. Don’t get so involved with your heart rate monitor and odometer that you forget to look around—you’ll get much higher, but this leg has some of the prettiest climbing vistas on the ride.
Two miles into the 10-mile climb you hit a stretch of dirt road that’s exactly 1 mile long (it’s comforting to know that too), but it’s hard, fairly smooth dirt with firm rocks—no loose gravel—and you don’t need big tires or anything like that. It’s actually a refreshing mental change from the pavement. I did this ride after a light rain, and the dirt was fine, because the entire dirt leg is in the sun and dries quickly, but I’d think twice about doing it after serious rain, or do the ride in the other direction so you’re descending the mud. Going our way, the dirt has two very short stretches of significant pitch, which you might end up walking if it’s mucky.
The dirt mile
After the dirt, you get an unexpected and sweet .8-mile descent, then have it easy for a while. But the 8-10% stuff comes back, and you have the hardest part of the ride, a long, tedious, steep pitch up an uninteresting shrubby draw—the only part of the ride that isn’t particularly scenic. Someone has tried to be helpful by writing the remaining mileage to the saddle (see below) in tenths of a mile on the pavement, but they got the decimal in the wrong place, so you’re told you have .04 miles to go, .03 miles to go, etc.
As you approach mile 20.5 you’ll see you’re approaching a saddle. At the saddle there’s an intersection. A large sign reads “Sunset Valley Rd.,” with an arrow straight ahead signed “NIRA Campground,” an arrow L signed “Figueroa Mt. Rd.,” and an arrow R signed “Cachuma Mt. Rd.” Go L; you’ll stay on Figueroa Mt. Rd. all the way to Los Olivos. You have 3.5 miles still to climb to the summit, and some of it is more 8-10% stuff, but it’s much more pleasant than what you’ve just done, because the pitch varies constantly (so you get a lot of respites), and the vistas are constantly stunning. You’re now riding with a sheer dropoff on your L, and the views of the canyon you just climbed up will take your mind off your labor.
Past the obvious summit, ride a long, rolling ridge with great views to either side, then drop, often quite steeply. You face about 3 more significant short climbs, but in the main the work is done. At mile 28 you pass a Ranger Station that probably can give you water in a pinch.
I confess I don’t like the descent. Oh, it has wonderful moments, and the scenery is consistently great, but from about mile 27 to the valley at mile 34, you’re looking at 7 miles that are mostly too steep, too curvy, and too rough to be fun. I did a lot of it at 10-12 mph, squeezing the brakes hard the entire time.
When you cross a cute little bridge, you’re suddenly back on the valley floor, and this valley is just a tad less gorgeous than Happy Canyon. Ride along the valley’s edge back to Los Olivos and your car. Midway through the valley you pass Neverland Ranch, Michael Jackson’s old estate/zoo, on your R—it’s just a moderately pretentious, generic gate, but you can tell your friends.
Shortening the route: You can ride up from either the west or the south entrance, ride as far as you like, and turn around. Locals mostly seem to do this on the west side, but it’s a harder climb. You can shave a few miles by driving to the start of the climb, on either route. Happy Canyon Rd. would be a lovely out and back if the road surface was tolerable.
Adding miles: Solvang is a famous riders’ destination, because the weather is balmy, the scenery is bucolic, and the hills roll sweetly. The Solvang Century introduces you to the riding in the area, though I think a lot of the route is only so-so. Pretty much any road in the area that isn’t too trafficky is good riding. Ballard Canyon Rd., one end of which is a stone’s throw from Los Olivos (and part of the century route), is the second-best ride in the area, a short but ridiculously fun and picturesque rolling ride celebrated for being part of the course for the Tour of California time trial when it was held in Solvang in the early years of the race. I bet it’s even more fun at 35 miles an hour, but I’ll never know. A very nice ride (and also part of the century route) is Santa Rosa Rd., along the edge of a beautiful little pocket valley just south of Buellton. It’s a wind tunnel, so it can be frightfully windy, normally out of the west. At its western end you’re a stone’s throw on Hwy 1 from the Jalama Road ride. One of the most popular rides is Foxen Canyon Rd., but I found it less wonderful than the other riding in the area (too straight). Maybe if it were somewhere else I’d love it. If you do ride Foxen, at the northern end you pass the turn-off to our Tepusquet Rd. ride, which is much better.
Afterthoughts: There is no water source on this ride, with the possible exception of the Ranger Station. Plan accordingly.
Solvang itself is a precious, touristy re-creation of a Scandinavian village—a fun place to hang out in for a while, with many great bakeries, but I prefer to lodge in Buellton, just down the road, where the motel chains are good old Amurrican and the prices much lower. Solvang has a bike shop where you can buy a Mt. Figueroa jersey if you want to commemorate your achievement.
Looking south and east from near the Figueroa summit (photo by Nibbles)
Distance: 26 miles out and back Elevation gain: 1820 ft
This ride climbs out of Cambria (pronounced both “KAMM bree uh” and “KAYM bree uh” by the locals), one of those amazing little enclaves of culture and fine dining (and Internet-based bicycle supply stores—yes, it’s that Cambria) that somehow manages to get established far from anywhere. There’s one bike ride here, but it’s a beaut. It climbs from the shore high up into the coastal hills to a summit saddle with spectacular vistas of whence you came.
It’s four rides in one. The first 5 miles are dead easy, nearly flat cruising through a farming valley (blissfully free of vineyards)—you’ll probably see obviously non-serious riders out for a stroll. The next 5 miles are a roller-coaster through riparian woods. Then you do a classic canyon creekside climb. And finally it turns to hard, hard climbing in the final miles before the summit, as you ride what the locals call The Wall.
This road is an alternative to the main route via Hwy 1 and Hwy 46, so all the through traffic takes the highways and after the first few miles of farms you have the road to yourself, save for the occasional hardy car driving up to the summit to gawk at the view.
Begin in downtown Cambria (might as well—it’s a great place to stroll, eat, and shop). Ride south out of town on Main St. and go L onto clearly-signed Santa Rosa Creek Road as soon as you’re really out of town.
You begin in bucolic farm country
The route rides up a valley that narrows steadily until it disappears and you’re riding up a steep draw. So you begin rolling gently past pretty cattle farms. At Mile 5 you pass Linn’s Farmstore, a classic country “gift shop” and pie emporium, and just before then the road begins to get smaller and go up and down and back and forth deliciously, and the scenery turns dense, gorgeous riparian canopy. This is my favorite leg of the ride.
At Mile 10 (at the Soto Ranch—the name is over the gate, along with “Since 1910,” though the place looks brand new) the valley abruptly disappears, you cross the creek and the road becomes an uninterrupted, serious climb up the narrow canyon. After a while of this, the road goes unmissably from medium hard to very hard—like, 14% at times, and probably never less than 10%—to the turn-around at an obvious saddle. It’s a short but truly tough pitch. How hard is it? Consider: the ride totals about 2400 ft of gain, and it’s mostly in these two miles (it’s 870 ft of gain to Soto Ranch).
The scenery, after the first few miles, is varied but consistently marvelous, and the views from The Wall and the summit are jaw-dropping—perhaps the best vistas in Bestrides after the Tamalpais ride.
Then you ride through riparian woods
Finally you climb through magnificent vistas (and over lousy pavement)
This profile is plenty good enough to get this ride into our Best of the Best list, were it not for the road surface. It constantly varies, from glass to chipseal to nasty pothole-strewn, and there’s enough of the latter to drop it off the Best Of list.
At the summit, drink in the views, then decide what you want to do from here. My route has you returning the way you came, but see Adding Miles for some very attractive alternatives. As I’ve mapped it, it’s an almost pedal-free trip, and parts of it are excellent descending. Not the Wall itself—descending 14% pitches on broken pavement is no fun—but much of the descent back to Soto Ranch is very good, and the five miles between Soto and Linn’s Farmstore is one of my favorite roller-coaster rides, constantly up and down and back and forth, better than the ride out because now it’s downhill so you’re carrying a head of steam, and with the pavement problems only slightly dampening your giddy enthusiasm. The last 5 miles in, like the first 5 miles out, are merely pleasant.
Consider stopping at Linn’s Farmstore for a snack—the store is a masterpiece of kitsch, though I think the pie is actually lousy (heavy crust, too sweet).
Shortening the route: The ride profile allows you to dial in your preferred level of work/pain: easy (first 5 miles), medium (first 10 miles), serious climbing effort (first 13-ish), or brutal (to the top). Of course the harder/further it gets, the better it gets. Funny how that happens.
Adding miles: If you don’t want to ride back, there are four other possibilities, all tempting in their way.
At the turn-around point you are standing on a leg of the Santa Rita Rd./Cypress Mountain Rd. ride. Option 1: if you want just a bit more riding, continue on past the summit and ride 3.7 sweet miles of SR/CM backwards to the intersection with Hwy 46. This stretch is a bowl: it drops sharply for a bit through dense woods, then rolls through a pretty valley of grassy fields and oaks, then climbs up to Hwy 46. The road surface is at first poor, though nothing like what you’ve just ridden over, and soon it gets downright OK. If you turn around at Hwy 46, the only cost to adding this leg to the ride is the climb back to the summit, which is noticeable.
Santa Rosa Creek Road, between The Wall and Hwy 46
Option #2: Continue on the Santa Rita/Cypress Mountain route, in either direction. If you do the entire loop, you’re in for a long day, but it’s totally possible. Riding the Cypress Mountain Rd. leg will leave you at a spot on the Adelaida Rd./Chimney Rock Rd. loop.
Option 3: At the turn-around point of Option 1, you can cross Hwy 46 and continue on Old Creek Rd. to Cayucos, a tiny hamlet with a bit of a cult following. Christopher (below) says, Great tacos. Old Creek Rd. is surprisingly big and surprisingly trafficky for what looks like a back road, but as a descent it’s good.
But now you have to get back to Cambria. If you can arrange a car pick-up, Cambria to Cayucos via Santa Rosa Creek Rd. and Old Creek Rd. is only a bit harder than the route I’ve mapped. If not, you’re going to have to 1) ride 16 not-too-rewarding miles of Hwy 1, or 2) ride back the way you came, which involves you in 51 miles out and back, with 13 miles of climbing, much of it hard, on the way back and a Mapmyride estimate of 5030 ft gain overall. Not undoable, but not to be undertaken lightly, and I don’t find Old Creek Rd. at all rewarding uphill.
Cypress Mountain Road, just west of the summit—click on to appreciate
Option 4: if you get to the top of The Wall and you’ve got just a bit of legs left and want a change of pace, consider riding the one mile of dirt from Santa Rosa Road to the summit of Cypress Mountain Rd. and back (see the Santa Rita/Cypress Mt. route for details). The vistas from the top are staggering—like the vistas from the top of The Wall, squared. The road surface is smooth, but it’s steep and loose, so traction is iffy without wider tires.
Notice I don’t mention returning to Cambria via Hwy 46. It’s a very straight, steep, exposed, busy, and usually blustery descent, so you’d be doing 45 mph amid traffic, bored while fighting for control. Not my idea of a good time. Nor do I mention riding Hwy 1 in either direction from Cambria—there is lots to do off the bike, but the riding itself is dead boring.
For an easy cool-down after Santa Rosa Creek Road, or for an effortless recovery-day jaunt, hit Moonstone Beach Drive, which runs along the ocean heading north from the north end of Cambria.
For other riding options in the Paso Robles area, see the Adding Miles section of the Peachy Canyon Road ride and the discussion of Paso Robles as a riding destination in the “Planning the One-Week Bicycle Vacation” section of Bestrides’ home page.
