Unintentional Mount Hamilton & Livermore bicycle tour

I started by heading through Alum Rock to Mount Hamilton Road. The lower reaches of Mount Hamilton were already dry and brown. In many places, someone had already mown the shoulder.

As I gained altitude, the grass became green, and wildflowers began to line the road. Chinese houses, monkeyflower, and western wallflower were particularly abundant. A few cheerful patches of mules ears populated particularly sunny locations.

I stopped at Grant Park to use the restrooms. As I was on my back out to the main road, I noticed a herd of wild pigs sniffing around in a meadow above me. I watched them for a moment, and then continued my climb.

Increased altitude meant lower temperatures and more flowers. This California king snake was trying to keep warm by sunning itself on the road. It shook its tail to try and convince me that it was a rattlesnake when I approached. Nothing rattled and I wasn't convinced.

I continued my climb, and soon came into view of Lick Observatory. Despite the view, the road wound around so much that I still had several miles before actually reaching the buildings at the top of Mount Hamilton.

At the top, I put on a warm layer and ate a sandwich while admiring the view. Clouds had blown in during my ascent, so it wasn't possible to see the Sierras. I chatted with a pair of German tourists, and then headed inside to fill my water bottles.

I was fortunate to arrive just as a tour of the old 13 inch refracting telescope from the 1880s was about to begin, so I joined the tour. The old brick telescope dome was frigid inside, as they keep the telescope at the same temperature as it is outside at night.

As I exited the building, I could see a storm blowing in, but trusted the weather forecast which claimed that there would merely be a few brief showers.

Ignoring the approaching rain, I descended San Antonio Valley Road on the west side of Mount Hamilton. The west side was much drier than the east; most grass was brown, and many of the cattle ponds were dry. A few stream-side locations had impressive wildflower displays, but such locations were rare.

As I approached the flat section at the bottom, another cyclist caught up with me. He was being followed by his wife in a car, as a sheriff's deputy had told them they weren't permitted to park. A few moments later, I noticed a herd of elk grazing a few hundred yards across a field, so we all stopped to admire them.

A light rain began to fall, and I soon reached the Junction, a bar where Del Puerto Canyon, San Antonio Valley, and Mines roads all join. It serves a clientele consisting of a rare mix of motorcycle enthusiasts and bird watchers, and has the only hummingbird feeders for 20 miles around hanging outside the entrance. If you want to get close to a hummingbird, this is the place.

The light rain changed to a heavy rain, so I stopped and ordered a sandwich. After about an hour, the rain stopped, and I continued along.

I headed down Mines Road towards Livermore, and passed some incredibly impressive pink flowering bushes in a stream bed.

Unfortunately, it began to rain again, so I stopped and put my rain gear on. The rain continued, and became steadily harder. In some places, the streams filled their culverts and spilled onto the road. As I reached Livermore, roads began to flood, and I had a hard time seeing.

Instead of continuing under those conditions, I found a motel and stopped for the night. Once inside, I listened to a weather forecast, which predicted that rain would continue through the night, but stop in the morning.

In the morning, I rose at dawn, packed my dried belongings, and headed towards Pleasanton. Despite the early hour, there were already traffic jams.

I took a back road into Pleasanton, and passed by a field full of lekking turkeys. There were five males and perhaps fifteen females. Whenever one of the females showed the slightest interest in one male's display, the other males would all chase her away.

I continued through Pleasanton and Sunol, and then headed up Calaveras road past the reservoirs. Once out of town, globe lilies lined the road.

After another hour I arrived at the edge of Milpitas and headed directly to my office, where I showered, changed, and set myself to work.