Happy Belated Travels...Shell Ridge

Look at my high-visibility-yellow helmet!  Sienna Ranch, Lafayette, CA

Wednesday June 5th, 2013, Dusk

Entry written in Desolation Wilderness, El Dorado National Forest, CA

It sounds like the waves are crashing onto the shore of a rocky beach, but psyche out.  Nasser, Adriana and I are listening to the seasonal waterfall near Susie Lake feeding a nearby tributary.

I don't understand what force of nature overcame me in the last week, but I have had the most distracting urge to ditch civilization and be outdoors.  Last fall when the time changed it was the exact opposite (a desire to start hibernating, immediately).  It's not the most novel realization, but I think I'm pretty heavily influenced by the length of the days.  Example: 9pm last November I was brushing my teeth to prepare for a dozen hours of sleep.  Tonight, half a year later I'm taking sunset photos and getting my second wind.  Congratulations to me--I've just accepted circadian rhythm.  One day I might even figure out a way to sync my lifestyle to it.

Time to sleep under the stars.

ANYWAY: Last week I followed my urge for adventure and went on my first solo bike camping trip, a whopping six miles from work.  I used the security of the suburban neighborhood behind Shell Ridge Open Space Preserve as motivation to go outside my comfort zone and get outside already!  

Have hammock, will travel.

I decided it's important to indulge my un-satiated urge for outdoor sleeping, so I got out there!  My packing list included:

• 1/2 a burrito
• an apple
• a backup apple (which Alison pulled out of a lunch box that had been sitting in our lost and found at work for at least a few weeks)
• hammock
• sleeping pad
• bike/hemlet
• water
• headlamp
• Chicky, the stuffed chickadee toy (perfect company for solo travel!)
• camera
• toothbrush/toothpaste

Disclaimer: the Lost and Found apple was survival food only.

A great local resource.

I got on the bike I'd had for almost a year (purchased with good intentions of frequent bike camping) and set off with my google map directions toward a spot Jason and I had scouted a week or so earlier.  The ride was a flat six miles, most of which was in a wide bike lane or the Iron Horse multi-use Trail.  I arrived at Shell Ridge at sunset and figured it was time to setup the hammock.  But where?

Background info: you're not really supposed to camp in the open space preserve, so I had to find an out-of-the-way spot.  Setting up a hammock is pretty low-impact, so choosing to stealth camp against regulations is a rule I feel okay breaking.  However, I'm also a square (see Urban Dictionary definition #4.) So, when I saw a couple Mom and Dad's age on an evening hike when I started scouting camp, my heart started racing.  Conscience check.  My instinct?  Turn around and flee before they had the chance to ask any questions.

The short & easy route from work to Shell Ridge

My escape route from the parental units was a section of downhill trail with 3" of loose soil.  Gravity laughed at me at me for cutting the switchback of packed clay and my before I knew it, my attempt at walking my fully-loaded bike down the 10% grade turned into me running from my bike to keep my pedals from biting me in the back of the calf.  Suave.

Once clear of onlookers, I decided it was time to stash the bike.  I surveyed the scene and recognized a
park bench from mine and Jason's scouting mission the week prior, and I figured the area uphill from the landmark would be work.  Since the footpath was too steep for me to ride, I pushed my bike uphill this time.

In less than five minutes I'd pushed myself into a dead-end of mustard forest taller than me.  I tried thrashing through to the fire road/trail I knew was only ten more feet ahead, but I'd had enough of inopportune thistle encounters, so after pulling a thorn out of my finger I pushed my bike backwards out of the mustard forest.

Chickadee (stuffed toy in tree) &
Stranger Danger (my bike)

Lesson learned: Adventure isn't always in a straight line.

The oat grass seemed more forgiving with its height, so I destroyed some savannah habitat by navigating my bike and me down a small ravine, across a bunny hop in the dirt (maybe a seasonal ravine?) and to a snag further down the ravine.  I felt great about the bike location and scouted a hammock spot with the last of the day's twilight.  Goal, accomplished!

1/2 of a burrito later I laid down sort of paranoid about the proximity of what I thought sounded like a 1950s sock hop happening on the next ridge over.  I slept with my eyes on the ridge but my head downhill for a while before headache potential trumped paranoia.  Finally the noise died down and I felt comfortable swinging around to sleep with my head uphill.

Sunday June 2nd I woke up to some mountain bikers around 6:30 or 7:00am.  I realized immediately that the oak tree I thought was so remotely placed at the top of the ridge was about 100' from the trail.  I pulled an old Chris Columbus during my wander through the mustard forest and thought I was in an entirely different spot.  Benefit?  It took about one minute to push my bike to the trail once I packed up the hammock.

A day in the life of Christopher Columbus.  Map not to scale.

I rode to the parking lot and decided to ride all the way back to Oakland instead of taking Walnut Creek BART.  I enjoyed a little detour off the Iron Horse Trail and ate the less sketchy of my breakfast apples and rode to Moraga before feeling legitimately hungry.  I got really excited what I found where they were setting up the Sunday Farmer's market.  Glitch: it was only 8:30am, and the market didn't open until 9.  I couldn't bring myself to go into the grocery store with a viable local food option right there, so somehow that motivated me to open up my bag and eat the lost and found apple.  Don't look for much logic in that decision.
After a pathetic rub on my dirty bike shorts to rub off two weeks of lost and found cooties, I took a bite.

• The good news: I was able to eat some of it and survived to tell the tale.
• The rotten news: 60% of the apple.  

I ended up calling it a loss and just got back on the bike to ride.  This ride home is one of the most beautiful bike rides I've ever been on.  I absolutely love riding on Canyon and Pinehurst roads since I get to spend at least twenty minutes day dreaming about what it would be like to live in the little hippie town of Canyon, teaching at Canyon School.  I think about walking down through the redwoods to check my mail at the Canyon Post office, then walking back up to my cabin to make some warm tea...  It's like mini NorCal coast, and it's peacefulness that is sneaked in between suburbia and the city.  Not too shabby of a way to end the adventure!

26 miles & ~2,100 feet of climbing on 1.25 apples of energy.

It's hard for me to explain what changes in me so immediately when I sleep outside.  It's not luxurious in a physical comfort sort of way.  Perhaps it's intertwined with so many memories of adventures past that it serves as an instant pick-me-up.  Whatever it is, it works.  I'm so grateful to have outdoor sleeping as part of my world.  It made me even more excited to have the summer's opportunity ahead of me.

Sunset entering Shell Ridge, Walnut Creek, CA