Mount Davidson
In the Fog
It looks like Mount Davidson has done it again--
it just keeps getting better each time
I go. Having first found the singletrack around the perimeter a month ago,
this time I headed up in a thick and heavy fog, which gave the heavily
wooded western side a unique mystical flavor. I also found single track trails
heading all the way down to the base, bypassing the insanely steep Dalewood Avenue.
It was a dark and stormy afternoon, heading up the main fireroad to the peak...
Is that wolves I hear howling? The cross at the summit.
The perimeter single track heading down from the summit.
Just one of the obstacles you'll face along your way.
[Update 12/22/02: a few months ago it was cut down. It seems there's been quite a bit of deforestation
on the western slopes lately, mainly eucalyptus trees I think.]
The isolation, the silence. The wetness seeped into my lycra, feeling like the ubiquitous sogginess
was permeating my pores, and the chill reaching deep inside my skin. Even on this very brief ride, there's nothing
like the cold to bring out one of those bonding experiences with nature.
The desolation... mysterious emptyness.
Good to take a nice warm shower after that one. Mount
Davidson has come a long way since I initially gave it a lousy review. My hat's of
to the Armenians for keeping it the way it is, except the cross still needs some
work. Even the eucalyptus trees I'm learning to tolerate, and here seem to mix
in with the density of the the undergrowth.
Almost makes me wonder if I should
delete the entire review to keep it my little secret. Well, for now I'm pushing it
up to a 7½. Still not worth a drive to San Francisco,
but a nice quick ride after work. (b. August 24, 2001)
Back to top.
Back home.
Is that wolves I hear howling? The cross at the summit.
The perimeter single track heading down from the summit.
Just one of the obstacles you'll face along your way.
[Update 12/22/02: a few months ago it was cut down. It seems there's been quite a bit of deforestation
on the western slopes lately, mainly eucalyptus trees I think.]
The isolation, the silence. The wetness seeped into my lycra, feeling like the ubiquitous sogginess
was permeating my pores, and the chill reaching deep inside my skin. Even on this very brief ride, there's nothing
like the cold to bring out one of those bonding experiences with nature.
The desolation... mysterious emptyness.