With March
BAM
coming up, that was my goal. I'd recently gotten a new handlebar bag from
Bags By Bird. I wanted to try it out,
which meant bringing my
Hudski Dualist, my "ATB." A lap of the San Francisco Bay on mountain bike tires is not the
most efficient way to do it - my gravel bike would have been more efficient -
but for the Mt. Tamalpais and Bolinas Ridge sections, it would be excellent.
And it was.
I'd talked with my friend D about doing this ride together. He'd been sick,
but hoped he'd be better in time. I put together a route on ridewithgps and
figured on a ferry departure that would give me enough time for a
lackadaisical ride to the picnic bench on Bolinas Ridge, with time to stop for
lunch in Mill Valley. I met him at the ferry terminal, missing that first
ferry, oops. He was still sick. He'd packed his bike, and was otherwise
prepared. I counseled him to skip it and join me on another. We said goodbye,
him heading home, me boarding the ferry. It would have been nice to ride it
with him, but I was also relieved - now I could go my own pace, stop where I
wanted, take pictures.
Boarding the ferry at Jack London terminal
On the ferry, Bay Bridge in background
The ferry was full of people heading to the city, some to a San Francisco
Giants baseball game. It was warm and sunny, a really beautiful day. I rode
through a San Francisco just delighted with itself. So many people out enjoying
the day.
The Golden Gate Bridge western side had lots of cyclists - the serious
locals in their just-right kits (clothes) and the tourists on their rental
machines seemed equally happy to be there. I rolled through sunny Sausalito
to Mill Valley, where I got a hot lunch and a fresh avocado at the grocery
there. I ate my lunch out front, nestled the ripe avocado among my sweater
in the bar bag, hoping it would make the rough journey in useful condition,
and began to climb the mountain.
lunch in Mill Valley
Railroad grade is a bumpy ride on a rigid ATB, and it was warm for March. I
settled into a mellow pace. At the spring I put my helmet under the waterfall
- it was that warm - and continued, refreshed to the West Point Inn. The
picnic bench in the shade was fully populated, so I continued to Pantoll,
where I filled my big 34 ounce water bottle, both 1-liter Nalgene bottles and
a half-liter CNOC flask. This would be my last water before camp, and I still
had a long ridge to ride under a warm sun.
The asphalt climb up to the intersection of Pantoll and Ridgecrest was a bit
of a grind, but the views! Amazing. Once on Ridgecrest I was in a bit of
visual heaven. I rolled along Ridgecrest, stopping to take pictures and
videos, arriving at the beginning of Bolinas Ridge trail. D had given me a
mission, to be performed there, and I executed the mission. I saw a rider I
thought I recognized, but I wasn't sure, so I didn't call out. (It was J.)
Looking south from Old Stage Road
Southern Farallon Island
Ridgecrest panorama
Looking north toward Tomales Bay and Black Mountain
gravel is the pickleball of cycling
I continued along the beautiful Bolinas Ridge, first on redwood duff among
young redwood trees, occasionally on rocky, bare, sunny sections. It's mostly
giant ferns, mossy redwood stumps and 100-year-old redwood trees until it
transitions to an oak, pine and grass environment, which is how it stays for the
remainder of the ridge. I saw very few people.
My bike, two trees, Bolinas Ridge trail
An old stump, ferns
As I approached a gate on the trail right before my goal of the southern
bench, I saw black cows. I went through the gate, to the bench, and the ground
was pocked with cow hooves, and splattered with manure. Hmm, I hadn't planned
on this. They were all around, staring at me, munching. I considered. I could
go back over the gate and be without cows, but also without a picnic bench.
Picnic benches are quite handy, for sitting, for cooking, for eating. Hmm.
I've got plenty of experience with cows, it couldn't be so bad.
Right?
Sunset
An iffy wind screen
J and T, surprisingly!
dinner fixings
my bike against some rocks
beef barbacoa, avocado, tortilla, hot sauce
dinner company (cows)
It was 5:30, I had two hours of daylight left. I put out stove, dinner
(Beef Barbacoa Taco from Luxefly, my intact avocado, nicely ripened, a packet of
Tapatio hot sauce I'd gotten from Garage Grown Gear
and a few tortillas I'd transported from home) and looked around for a good
sleep spot. Between the manure, a desire for flat, less lumpy ground, and a
sincere wish to not be stepped on, I found a human-sized spot near the fence
line, where I put down my bivvy, pad, bag and pillow. I could prop my bike up
between the sleep spot and the range and therefore dissuade a cow from coming
too close while I slept.
Back to the picnic bench, I was just about to start preparing dinner when
another cyclist came through the gate. He had a gravel bike with panniers
and bags, and I recognized him. Then another cyclist followed him, a woman I
also recognized. It was J & T from Oakland, people I'd ridden with in
the past at the Old Caz / Old Zac rides, friend's of P. We had a nice chat.
They had also ridden from Oakland, and were heading to Samuel P. Taylor
State Park for the night. I told them I'd found my camp spot. I might have
mentioned a concern about the cows.
After they'd ridden away, I began cooking. I boiled my water for dinner, and for a
cup of bone broth, using the entirety of my ti mug. Dinner was good.
I did mention the wind. It was coming up. The forecast was for unseasonably
warm weather, with a forecasted low of 51º Fahrenheit for the neighborhood I
was in, so I'd just brought my new, very cozy
hoodie and my old Patagonia Houdini hoodie shell. I put both on, as the west
wind off the ocean whipped up. It made sense that there'd be a strong wind
at sunset - it was really warm all over California, and as the interior
heated up and air rose, it pulled cool, moist air off the pacific, through
the gap formed by the Bay.
The wind was making me cold. I finished up, packed up, and
rolled my bike over to my sleep spot, leaning it against a bush between me
and the field. The cows had wandered off, probably to find a low, sheltered
spot unlike me. Duh. I was effectively on the height of the ridge. Cows knew
better. Wasting no time, with the sun just set and only 7:30 PM I got into
my bag and bivvy. I'd brought a very
minimalist bivvy and
a 30º bag, no bag liner. I had a tarp but didn't set it up. As the wind
blew, I shivered, but I didn't want to get up and set up the tarp, so I told
myself "The wind will die down. And even if you shiver all night, the sun
will rise." I did shiver for a while, then fell asleep. Later in the night,
I woke up. The stars were out and brilliant, the wind was gone and I was
perfectly warm.
I suppose you can't see them, but this is a clear, starry sky.
Here is where I make an admission. Mark Twain wrote, "It is better to
keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and
remove all doubt." There's more to the story. Ask me and I'll tell you in
person. We all learn from our mistakes, hopefully. My story would be funny, to
you.
I woke to sunlight, and the sound of cows munching and snuffing air. I got
out of my bivvy and looked around to see them look up and stare at me. They
were all around me. I spoke to them. "Good morning. Keep eating. I'm going
to make my breakfast." I dragged the entire bivvy / bag / pillow /
groundsheet over to the big rock behind the picnic bench, where I planned to
lay it out to dry, while I made my breakfast.
A large, black bull was waiting for me. He was big, quite handsome,
standing apart from the herd, and as I approached he calmly watched me. He
approached the picnic table, and me, a few steps at a time. He snorted. Drool
hung from his mouth. I backed away from the picnic bench, so that I could put
out my bedding on the big rock to dry in the sun that had yet to break past
the tree line in the east, and to put some space between me and him. Should he
charge, I was in a defensible space, on the rocks. What a ridiculous
situation. I spoke to him. "Shoo. I need to make my coffee. Go away, shoo.
Begone. I just need to make my breakfast and I'll be out of here." He
continued to approach, licking my water bottle on the table. That was too much
for me. "No!" I shouted. "Back off! No!" He did, a little. Returning to the
table, keeping it between me and him, I resumed getting my breakfast and stove
out and ready. He continued to stare, to drool, to make snorting noises. This
was ridiculous.
At that point, a distraction occurred. I hear the unmistakable sound of
a ground sheet getting pulled from the rock, making that crinkly, loud plastic
sheet sound, and a small stampede of cow hooves immediately after. Some
curious cows had made off with my ground sheet. I went back around the rock
and found it on the ground, surrounded by about five juvenile cows. Recovering
my prize, I brought it back to the rock. At this point the bull had wandered
off enough for me to make coffee, breakfast (another Luxefly meal, this time
the Denver Scramble Breakfast Skillet) and to eat it in some peace. The wind hadn't returned, the sun was shining
and my sleep gear would be dry enough to pack, soon.
The bull did return, along with most of the herd. They were queuing up
at the gate, someone must move them every morning. He continued to stare at
me, and approach the picnic bench, so we we returned to the detente of me,
packing up on one side of the table, talking to him, and him, staring at me
from the other side. I normally have a bathroom appointment after coffee and
breakfast, but I figured I'd roll north to the bathrooms at Samuel P. Taylor
and not deal with nosy cows.
Bolinas Ridge trail
we are the ones we've been waiting for.
Bolinas Ridge trail
Tomales Bay in the distance
Bolinas Ridge, looking north
Jewell trail intersection with Bolinas Ridge trail
This section of Bolinas Ridge is rough, seldom-traveled, and the track
has serious erosion, with springs often causing mud bogs and puddles. I took
the somewhat faint turn for Jewell Trail - marked with a sign, overgrown with
vegetation - down to the paved asphalt path through Samuel P. Taylor. I had a
quiet stop there to take care of morning obligations, then continued east to
the town of Fairfax. I'd corresponded with an old friend, K so that I might
have lunch and visit with him, his wife, maybe some other friends. All were
out of town but K. We had a good, 2-3 hour conversation over coffee and
avocado toasts, before I continued my way east. Sitting in Fairfax, in outdoor
seating, near the intersection of Broadway and Fairfax-Bolinas roads is like
being in a
Richard Scarry
book about a town that loves bicycle riding. So many went by! It was a good
vibe.
K, happy with himself, and for good reason
Riding through Woodacre
Day two of my bikepacking trip featured mostly asphalt, a long, less
pleasant ride through commercial and industrial zones to the San Rafael -
Richmond bridge, a slog up the long incline into a headwind, then more asphalt
bike paths and a zig-zag route uphill, climbing the final 1000' to my house.
It was hot. I was finishing my water bottle, filled in Fairfax, as I
approached my neighborhood. A final fill at Lake Temescal Recreation Area got
me within range of home. I began daydreaming about stopping at the corner
market below my house to get a tallboy of Modelo Chelada beer. (3.5% ABV,
tomato, lime, salt, and spices, so good after a long, hot ride) I did stop,
got two, just in case, and then made it home in time for snacks in the
backyard and a very refreshing beverage.
A nice FJ62 Toyota Land Cruiser in San Rafael
I had been thinking about drinking one of these for the entire afternoon. It was perfect.
That's four
Bivvys-A-Month, or BAMs in a row, three of twelve for 2026. I have a vague plan for the
next two. This was another really big one, that soaked up both days of a
weekend. I might stay closer to home next, we'll see.
Gear
I made some changes since
my last trip; fresh Shimano 12spd chain, smaller 32T Race Face Cinch chainring, (down
from 34T) bigger 180mm rear Shimano rotor and +10mm adapter, (up from 160mm)
relocated Sinewave Beacon 2 light to front of rack on a Supernova
Multimount, new section of wiring with gold-plated male connectors between
Sinewave Taillight and Sinewave Beacon, to account for the +4" needed with
the new headlight location, new Bags By Bird bag up front.
I also packed 2 scoops each of Skratch Hydration Sport Drink Mix into
little resealable pouches I'd got from GGG. I think I went through four of these on day one, leaving me one for day
two. One pouch (2 scoops) went into the
34oz Soma water bottle
I'm using. I will bring more, next time. I only drank three fills of that
bottle on day, and I was pretty dehydrated when I got home. It was hot, for
March, ~ 80º Sunday.
I thought about getting some tires that roll better on asphalt than the 29 x
2.4" Maxxis Rekons, but didn't in time. I think I'll try some of the TNT
casing Vittoria Mezcals. Having gone through my first chain on the Hudski, I
think it's time for me to write up my thoughts about it. I'll do that in
another post.
The Bags By Bird Goldback 11W TALL is really nice. I ordered it with the same Evergreen Xpac material that Rockgeist
used for my frame bag, the "expandable longflap" that un-snaps and allows
you to temporarily double its capacity - think grocery store or firewood
runs, no internal mesh pocket, external dowels for attachment style, and
standard otherwise. The Sinewave Beacon 2 definitely was obscured by it, but
I wanted it on the rack, anyway. I love the deep pockets and large interior
space of the Goldback. I didn't use stuff sacks, but will if I ride in rain;
there's no guarantee water can't get in.
I recently purchased an Ocelot Windscreen 2.0 by Flat Cat Gear for my BRS 3000t Chinese titanium stove, after witnessing Coach's version on last month's BAM. This version packed a bit less well - the "platform" has prongs that bend up, and flanges that are bent down, and it isn't a flat surface, like Coach's. Also, it is damn fiddly. Getting the three tabs to stay in the arms of the stove and not fall out, keeping the wind screen on the three prongs requires patience, dexterity, and a lack of wind. This windscreen falls apart in a mild breeze! Grr. And lighting the stove involves putting your hand down in the path of the fuel. I boiled my water with a minimum flame - per Ocelot's guidance on efficiency. I suppose an ultra-efficient stove is worthwhile if you hope to carry minimal fuel on a multi-day trip. It felt of questionable value on this trip, with just two boils and one night.
I brought my new
Alpha Cruiser by FarPointe Outdoor Gear in "mint ice," XL
and I was already in love with this thing. I go to work early, 6AM wake-up,
7AM first calls, and this thing is so cozy! This was its first trip. I slept
in it. So cozy, would recommend, weighs almost nothing.
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