Coastal Singletrack!
...or the ballad of Mount Tamalpais
The Coastal Fire Road on Mount Tam has long been part of a popular loop involving the Deer Park Fire Road through
Muir Woods, and was one of the earlier trails we rode. As I began to expand loops further and
further out from the city, now and again I would still head out west for the cool breezes and magnificent vistas of
this decent over Highway 1. I had heard about about conversion it from fire road to singletrack last winter.
Supposedly bikes would still be allowed, though were discouraged after it was initially finished (by IMBA I think),
until drier season so the surface would be packed down a little bit.
So when Memorial Day rolled around, as I pondered wether to just keep watching the Deadliest Catch marathon
on the Discovery Channel, it was just too nice a day so I suited up and lubed my chain.
The plan was to ride out to the Old Railroad Grade in Mill Valley, head up to West Point Inn, then down
Old Stage road past Pan Toll, then out to see this new Coastal Trail. Then after a quick descent to Muir Beach
on a short stretch of Highway 1,
the plan was to cross Coyote Ridge in the Headlands and, knowing my conditioning had suffered this winter,
take Tennessee Valley road back to Sausalito and return to the city that way. I thought that should be manageable.
Little did I know how insidiously the heat of summer had suddenly come upon us.
Photos
Click to expand
As you can see this is well before our usual Golden Hour riding. See, last time I rode Tam, back in December,
I made it a point to ride to the summit without stopping except for traffic lights. Upon successfully reaching the
top, without rest, my crotch made me promise not to ever, ever, do that again.
So on this warm, pleasant summer day, I decided to
start early, have fun, and take it easy with a number of stops. Should be no problem.
Next stop on the tour, after Sausalito, would be downtown Mill Valley.
Bright sunny day. It does get quite a bit hotter as the coastal breeze dies down, moving north and east away from the coast.
And then heading through redwood parks and residential sections along West Blithedale to the Old Railroad grade trailhead.
It is certainly hot today, and despite rest breaks here and there, I was going through water quite a lot faster than expected.
After about 15 miles of flat riding from the city I finally get to the entrace to what has to be one of the most
numbingly bland rides in the world: The Old Railroad Grade.
So here is basically what it is like the entire way to the summit.
It is very rough and rocky in a lot of places though, which doesn't really come through in the photos.
The grade is nothing, but the loose stones and erosions can slow you down.
So more of this...
...and this...
...hey, haven't I been here before?
Resting in a shady patch not far from West Point Inn.
Not until here did I start to be getting any hint of a coastal breeze that keeps you going in the summer.
Slowly did I feel the dizzyness and subtle nausea coming on in the pit of my stomach that
could only mean one thing: I was starting to bonk.
If there is any pattern it always seems to involve heat and riding
in too high a gear. Now Sierra Azul might be understandable, but I gotta say bonking was a little embarrasing
on the Old Railroad Grade.
Here I was contemplating whether I had enough water to proceed, or should just turn around.
I mean, there is always Deadliest Catch marathon...
Well, it wasn't much farther to the old West Point Inn (elev. 1785), so might as well at least make it here.
I completely forgot to take a picture of the outside,
but found this shot from an old file. On the patio I could rest some and catch a little coastal breeze, finally.
A year ago, maybe even six months ago, this would have been an easy ride, but this winter
season has taken a bitter toll. Not just the rainy weekends,
but writing a book is more exhausting on the body than you'd think.
Wandering through the inside of the lobby of the old inn.
Tempting though it was I didn't dare sit my sweaty body on the nice seats.
That table there in the corner singlehandedly saved the ride. There was bottled water, lemonade, energy bars, and other goodies,
all for a very reasonable $1 a piece. A couple glasses of lemonade and a vanilla crunch power bar later, and I was
feeling great. In retrospect I probaby should have spent a couple bucks more on another lemonade and another powerbar.
Here's some trivia I recently learned: after Friedrich Nietzsche
spent some time in the asylum, his sister did all of his editing therafter. Now, I don't think I'm quite to that
point yet, but I can see where he was coming from. Writing is fun-- it's the editing that tears all fleeting sanity apart.
Anyway... here's the view to the south outside West Point Inn, looking over the Marin Headlands, with Muir Beach on the right,
Sausalito on the left, and San Francisco in the distance. I would descend from here to the right, then climb over the
second to closest grassy ridge to Tennessee Valley, then Sausalito on the left, then head back to the city.
Oh, that's right, I imagine you might have clicked on this link expecting some photos of the brand new Coastal Trail.
Okay, fine, here you go...
From West Point Inn, heading down the Old Stage road toward the Pan Toll ranger station. Similar vibe as the
Old Railroad grade, though downhill, and moves very quickly.
As long as I keep going downhill, I feel fine.
Continue past the Pan Toll Ranger station, to where the Coastal fire road begins its descent to the Deer Park fire road
and Coastal trail. Emerging from the woods around Pan Toll, I look down, getting my first glimpse of what they have done.
Sure enough, down there, it isn't a fire road anymore.
Well, calling it singletrack might be a bit generous, but it is a whole lot better than what we had.
I see that it is taking entirely different routes from how the old fire road passed.
How nice... it even takes a little detour through a patch of woods.
How exciting... this is like discovering a whole new trail in
your own backyard!
Here you can see, branching left over the hill is off-colored grasses where the fire road used to be,
and to the right is the new coastal trail.
Unlike the fireroad, it maintains very even grades all the time. I can't imagine it would be all that bad
to ride up. No, it's not hard core steep, but it also won't turn into a rain gully in two seasons either.
While the old fire road had a number of steep ups and downs, the coastal trail is very, very smooth.
It's not technical at all, though was not packed down either, so got a bit loose and dusty.
I imagine in a couple of rain seasons the surface would have bedded down some.
It's would be easy to go fast on this kind of trail, but I kept a slow pace given how loose the surface was.
Well, at this point it's definately singletrack as it makes it's final descent to Highway 1.
Oh, no, here, at the bottom of the Coastal Trail, I have to briefly deal with Memorial Day traffic.
Though for the curvy downhill stretch of Highway 1 to Muir Beach it is easy to go as fast as any car.
This is having quickly arrive right outside the Pelican Inn.
Not the first time I've been in Muir Beach wondering how I'm going to make it
back home-- knowing I will be there at some point in the distant future, but home is just so painfully far away.
A shot from the beginning of Middle Green Gulch. Okay, now it's official, having just finished
the switchbacks, I have bonked. So, I suppose, technically it really did not happen on the Old Railroad Grage,
which I say to reassure myself.
Still, it feels like a failure. At this point I am contemplating whether to sit down and cry, call a friend to pick me up,
or struggle in the granny gear in fits and spurts over the Ridge. Here I still probably had another 900
feet of elevation to go. The Middle Green Gulch trail is also in a deteriorating state of disrepair.
But those times I had to hike certain parts, that normally I could ride easily, did give the opportunity to take advantage
of the optimal lighting. I keep taking pictures behind me. Maybe, deep down, I really want to be going downhill. : )
No, I think it's just the light diffusing moisture is better over there.
And the nice thing about bonking is, it is only a fleeting state. Heading downhill again,
my will to ride all started coming back again. My odometer would eventually clock 48 miles by the time I reached home.
From that last shot, upon the southwestern tip of Coyote Ridge, having just crossed over the crest,
I quickly headed back to the Tennessee Valley parking
lot and then back to Sausalito, taking yet another rest at the ferry docks--
this time badly necessary rather than enjoying the summer day.
With the sun setting and every muscle in my leg and back aching, gritting my teeth and dizzy with
hypoglycemic deprivation, I finally arrived home.
the first time it seems I've felt this way in many, many months.
I now see I have sinned on the wayward pathways of television and computer games.
Here I reunited my median of being--
that point of perfect balance rising above all stress and anxiety pointing me in the proper direction.
In a superficial state of despair, doubt, and dull lactate pain, I find that persistent refuge of the soul,
where all burdens quickly fall under a broader and more meaningful perspective. (b. May 30, 2005; Memorial Day)
Back to Mount Tamalpais.
Back home.
As you can see this is well before our usual Golden Hour riding. See, last time I rode Tam, back in December,
I made it a point to ride to the summit without stopping except for traffic lights. Upon successfully reaching the
top, without rest, my crotch made me promise not to ever, ever, do that again.
So on this warm, pleasant summer day, I decided to
start early, have fun, and take it easy with a number of stops. Should be no problem.
Next stop on the tour, after Sausalito, would be downtown Mill Valley.
Bright sunny day. It does get quite a bit hotter as the coastal breeze dies down, moving north and east away from the coast.
And then heading through redwood parks and residential sections along West Blithedale to the Old Railroad grade trailhead.
It is certainly hot today, and despite rest breaks here and there, I was going through water quite a lot faster than expected.
After about 15 miles of flat riding from the city I finally get to the entrace to what has to be one of the most
numbingly bland rides in the world: The Old Railroad Grade.
So here is basically what it is like the entire way to the summit.
It is very rough and rocky in a lot of places though, which doesn't really come through in the photos.
The grade is nothing, but the loose stones and erosions can slow you down.
So more of this...
...and this...
...hey, haven't I been here before?
Resting in a shady patch not far from West Point Inn.
Not until here did I start to be getting any hint of a coastal breeze that keeps you going in the summer.
Slowly did I feel the dizzyness and subtle nausea coming on in the pit of my stomach that
could only mean one thing: I was starting to bonk.
If there is any pattern it always seems to involve heat and riding
in too high a gear. Now Sierra Azul might be understandable, but I gotta say bonking was a little embarrasing
on the Old Railroad Grade.
Here I was contemplating whether I had enough water to proceed, or should just turn around.
I mean, there is always Deadliest Catch marathon...
Well, it wasn't much farther to the old West Point Inn (elev. 1785), so might as well at least make it here.
I completely forgot to take a picture of the outside,
but found this shot from an old file. On the patio I could rest some and catch a little coastal breeze, finally.
A year ago, maybe even six months ago, this would have been an easy ride, but this winter
season has taken a bitter toll. Not just the rainy weekends,
but writing a book is more exhausting on the body than you'd think.
Wandering through the inside of the lobby of the old inn.
Tempting though it was I didn't dare sit my sweaty body on the nice seats.
That table there in the corner singlehandedly saved the ride. There was bottled water, lemonade, energy bars, and other goodies,
all for a very reasonable $1 a piece. A couple glasses of lemonade and a vanilla crunch power bar later, and I was
feeling great. In retrospect I probaby should have spent a couple bucks more on another lemonade and another powerbar.
Here's some trivia I recently learned: after Friedrich Nietzsche
spent some time in the asylum, his sister did all of his editing therafter. Now, I don't think I'm quite to that
point yet, but I can see where he was coming from. Writing is fun-- it's the editing that tears all fleeting sanity apart.
Anyway... here's the view to the south outside West Point Inn, looking over the Marin Headlands, with Muir Beach on the right,
Sausalito on the left, and San Francisco in the distance. I would descend from here to the right, then climb over the
second to closest grassy ridge to Tennessee Valley, then Sausalito on the left, then head back to the city.
From West Point Inn, heading down the Old Stage road toward the Pan Toll ranger station. Similar vibe as the
Old Railroad grade, though downhill, and moves very quickly.
As long as I keep going downhill, I feel fine.
Continue past the Pan Toll Ranger station, to where the Coastal fire road begins its descent to the Deer Park fire road
and Coastal trail. Emerging from the woods around Pan Toll, I look down, getting my first glimpse of what they have done.
Sure enough, down there, it isn't a fire road anymore.
Well, calling it singletrack might be a bit generous, but it is a whole lot better than what we had.
I see that it is taking entirely different routes from how the old fire road passed.
How nice... it even takes a little detour through a patch of woods.
How exciting... this is like discovering a whole new trail in
your own backyard!
Here you can see, branching left over the hill is off-colored grasses where the fire road used to be,
and to the right is the new coastal trail.
Unlike the fireroad, it maintains very even grades all the time. I can't imagine it would be all that bad
to ride up. No, it's not hard core steep, but it also won't turn into a rain gully in two seasons either.
While the old fire road had a number of steep ups and downs, the coastal trail is very, very smooth.
It's not technical at all, though was not packed down either, so got a bit loose and dusty.
I imagine in a couple of rain seasons the surface would have bedded down some.
It's would be easy to go fast on this kind of trail, but I kept a slow pace given how loose the surface was.
Well, at this point it's definately singletrack as it makes it's final descent to Highway 1.
Oh, no, here, at the bottom of the Coastal Trail, I have to briefly deal with Memorial Day traffic.
Though for the curvy downhill stretch of Highway 1 to Muir Beach it is easy to go as fast as any car.
This is having quickly arrive right outside the Pelican Inn.
Not the first time I've been in Muir Beach wondering how I'm going to make it
back home-- knowing I will be there at some point in the distant future, but home is just so painfully far away.
A shot from the beginning of Middle Green Gulch. Okay, now it's official, having just finished
the switchbacks, I have bonked. So, I suppose, technically it really did not happen on the Old Railroad Grage,
which I say to reassure myself.
Still, it feels like a failure. At this point I am contemplating whether to sit down and cry, call a friend to pick me up,
or struggle in the granny gear in fits and spurts over the Ridge. Here I still probably had another 900
feet of elevation to go. The Middle Green Gulch trail is also in a deteriorating state of disrepair.
But those times I had to hike certain parts, that normally I could ride easily, did give the opportunity to take advantage
of the optimal lighting. I keep taking pictures behind me. Maybe, deep down, I really want to be going downhill. : )
No, I think it's just the light diffusing moisture is better over there.
And the nice thing about bonking is, it is only a fleeting state. Heading downhill again,
my will to ride all started coming back again. My odometer would eventually clock 48 miles by the time I reached home.