It's hard to believe that it has been so many months since my trip to San Francisco. This week, the project team that I went out there with is on another trip to the Bay Area. I'm kind of glad I get to stay home this time. Though, I wouldn't have turned down the opportunity. Part I of the ride is here, in case you missed it.

I left off as I was riding toward the Golden Gate Bridge. While some things aren't quite as incredible when you get right up on them, this bridge is a magnificent sight from any distance. I really had very little plan for what I was going to do once I got across the bridge. I mean, I knew there was a route that took me along the north side of the San Francisco Bay and up into Richardson Bay. That was a retail and business corridor with marinas on the east side of the road and business on the left, for the most part. Then, there's supposed to be this climb into the mountains that would, if I decided to go that way, take me to the summit of Mt. Tamalpais more commonly referred to as Mt. Tam. Since cycling is a sport that fetishizes pain, that was on my list. The more climbing the better! The harder the ride, the stronger I would be coming out of it. What I didn't plan was meeting up with about 40 other cyclists that were gathered at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. I had no idea that this was a meeting place for cyclists. And, really, I was riding late in the morning. I would have expected most rides to have started long before I got to the base of the bridge at around 8:30.

I sidled up to a group of about 12 cyclists who were on road bikes rather than time-trail or triathlon bikes as they would be the most likely to show me a great route and a nice group ride. I asked them if this was a bunch of guys from a local club. He said, "No. Not really. This is just a place where everyone meets up before we cross the bridge. Then, on the other side, we re-gather at another spot and decide where we're riding for the day. "Apparently, people from the East Bay (Richmond and Berkeley areas) cross on the 580 bridge and people from all three areas meet somewhere near Sausalito. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I asked them if they minded if I tagged along and assured them that if they averaged between 20 and 24, I would be able to do my fair share of work. Cyclists everywhere are pretty awesome and I was invited to tag along. I decided not to take pictures on my way out across the bridge as there would be plenty of time for that on the way back. There wasn't any of that super cool San Fran early morning fog to snap pictures of anyway. I was initially surprised that the bridge is different heights from one side to the other and on the north side, the mountain seems to just gobble up the base of the bridge. As I rode across, I expected to "summit" on the bridge about half way. Then, it would be down hill back to the ground on the far side. Not so. You "summit" just before you reach the north side of the bridge.

On the far side, we made a few turns and went down some hills until we were back at sea-level. That was when I realized that I was about to go out on a 50? 60? 100? mile ride and the bike rental shop equipped me with exactly nothing that I would need if I got a flat. This was all that I could think about. What would I do if I was up in the mountains on a rental bike and I got a flat with no spare tube, no pump, no patch kit, nothing. Having that stuff would ensure that I wouldn't need it. Not having it would guarantee that I would get at least one flat along the way, right? So, I asked one of the guys in the group if there was a bike shop along that road or somewhere near where the group would re-group. luckily, there was. Rather than staying with that group, I opted to peel off and find that bike shop when we got close. That cost me $75 for a saddle bag, a tube, a couple of CO2 cartridges and a CO2 connector thingee. Oh, and it cost me the group. I never did find them again. I stayed on the bike path from Mike's Bikes shop until I caught up with other guys that were riding the same direction. It was a good thing I found them when I did. They were a wealth of knowledge and they gave me quite an ego boost. They admired that a flat-lander from the Black Swamp would venture up into the mountains. I assured them that I could handle it and told them the story of the Assault on Mt Mitchel the year before. Again, they gave me plenty of props. I rode with them from the Bathin Marsh Preserve (about the point where the Richardson Bay ends) and the Pickleweed Inlet until about Courte Madera where the last of the pair peeled off to head home. He had given me enough information to find my way into the Alpine Loop, though.

I know why the call it the most beautiful ride. While there is plenty of suffering along the way, there are also many amazing views and I absorbed as many as I could. Unfortunately, my camera lens was obscured by moisture for many of the shots that I tried to take. Because the sun was so bright and I was wearing sunglasses, I didn't realize that my phone was showing me a foggy version of the beautiful vista that lay before me.

Immediately after the Alpine Dam, I began climbing again. Really sucky steep climbs.

Before I could get to Stinson Beach, I had to descend and give back all those feet that I'd climbed all morning. Though, after fueling up, I should be fine to climb back into the hills... in theory. Anyway, the descent was amazing. My hands were cramped from holding the brakes for the 7 miles down to the shore. Not being familiar with the roads, I had to take it slow. Though, you know I wanted to fly. That is the point of the descent! Since I was taking it slow, I stopped a few times to take some pictures along the way. Here are those shots.

When I got to Stinson beach, I was amazed at the different atmosphere. Different than what I expected, I guess. It is like this little vacation town supported only by the beach. And, the beach appears to be doing just fine supporting the little town. I found a little beach-side restaurant with a line of people waiting to place their orders and get their food. A line for food is usually a good sign. This time, I suspect that it was just because it was the only place to get a quick burger. Not that there was anything wrong with the food. It was, in fact, yummy. But, I didn't see anything else in the area. So, everyone was in line here. I ordered a burger and fries. They hit the spot! It was a $12 lunch, but I didn't mind. Well, I guess I minded enough to remember that it was a $12 lunch. I took it down near the beach where I encountered the finish line for a running race. I picked out a table and sat down next to some guy who had a rubber chicken, a bottle of wine, and a medal. As I sat eating my burger, people kept coming up and congratulating him. Apparently, he had just won the marathon distance. I don't remember what he said his time was, but I do remember that it was impressive.

After I ate, I went out to check out the beach so my stomach could settle before I started climbing again. It was a beautiful beach to be sure.

To be honest, however, I don't think I really appreciated just how beautiful the beach was until I was above it on my climb out. My climb was along the same road that you've seen in a million car commercials. It was along Rt 1 along the Pacific coast until I reached Muir Beach where the route turns inland. More on that later. Now, though, enjoy these shots I took along the way.

There was a kiteboarder in that shot that looks like it's just the ocean. I can't see him any more. I could when I first cropped it. Just knowing he was out there made me happy. I would get my chance to go kiting that weekend, too. That'll be Update Part III.

When Rt 1 turns to go inland, the hills get steeper. And, having already pedaled over 50 miles of hills, I was quite tired. At one point, I was about to stop and take a break - another excuse to break out the phone and take some more pictures - when a guy passed me wearing a pink jersey (breast cancer awareness). He must have seen it in my eyes when he looked back because he called out, "Come on... grab my wheel. We'll conquer this beast together." We did. He lied to me all along the climb telling me over and over that "this is the next to last switchback" until we climbed out of the coastline and back to the bay side of the peninsula. I took it easy the rest of the way along the bike path back to the bridge.