May 16, 2010
On a perfect Sunday morning, Bob and Joan Evans, Glen and Kathy, Brent, ''Victory'' Mike, J.M., Jack and I, (Charly), meet at Coco's. At our pre-ride meeting, Bob suggests a trip out through Angwin to Pope Valley, then back through Middletown and over Cobb Mountain to Lakeport, with lunch at Capellas. For making such a great suggestion, he is promptly nominated Road Captain.
Rather than any of our usual routes, Bob inventively starts off by taking us on a tour of back residential streets through north Santa Rosa to Old Redwood Highway, then out the Mark West Springs/Porter Creek/Petrified Forest roads to Calistoga. After a brief pause in Calistoga at our favorite ''Graham's potty stop'', we head along Silverado Trail to Deer Park Road through Angwin. After Angwin, we enter trees and twisties, passing local landmark ''The Wall of Records'', (a tall board fence covered in old LPs - ancient technology today), winding up and up and then down into the steep and convoluted descent to the open expanse of Pope Valley and past another local landmark, the ''Hubcap Farm''. Now the countryside is rich pastures sprinkled with wildflowers and low-lying blue-green water meadows, all framed by oak and pine clustered hills. We ride wrapped in the scent of warm hay and elusive floral perfumes.
At our traditional stop at Middletown, we spy a familiar long, tall figure in a smiling yellow helmet passing by. Loud halloos and vigorous waving bring a U-turn and the company of Hans, out for a morning ride on his own.
From Middletown, Brent and Mike decide to head back. The rest of us, now accompanied by Hans, turn onto 175 to head over Cobb Mountain. On the ascent: Redolent of resin and fresh growth, somber pines provide a background to so many shades of green, I despair of finding words to describe them all. Old resorts, their gently worn facades softly blended into the landscape by decades of overgrowth, are interspersed by the stark-edged new. Descending: In an old vineyard, ancient tortuous vines, sparsely sprigged with new growth, stand crucified in regimental rows against the hillside. Patterned cows wade belly-deep in the lush grass of a pocket meadow.
At Clear Lake, the crisp white of distant snow peaks mirrors the clouds above them. Past Lakeport, ordered orchards on the flats along Highway 29 give way to rolling hills covered in a subtly variegated carpet of native grasses and wildflowers. Turning on to Highway 20 for the last leg to Capella, enclosed by steep canyon walls of dry rock and brush, we ride along a narrow green willow-lined lake.
At lunch in Calpella, Hans tells us about life in Sweden. Afterwards, Glen, Kathy, Jack and I decide to return by a more leisurely and scenic route of side roads back to Santa Rosa, while the rest elect to take the more expedient freeway. Another great ride to add to the annuals of the Redwood Riders.
Charly