Garrett (garote) wrote,

Bart - to Mt Diablo - to Bart

Saturday's ride was 39 miles, took about ten hours, and burned about 2500 calories. I took Bart all the way out to Concord, then rode past the Mt. Diablo State Park, then through the Morgan Territory Regional Preserve, taking my time with photographs and snacking and rest stops, and ended up at the Dublin Bart station. I never thought I'd be able to pull off a 40-mile one-way trip without driving, but thanks to Bart, it was quite easy.

I had my usual collection of gear for this trip, but chose the upright over the recumbent just to mix things up a little. Not shown: The huge camera I used to take the picture with.

Aaaah the open road. A technical marvel, among thousands, that makes this whole trip possible. Truly we live in blessed times.

This is what I like the most about long bike trips. You get out to a road where the cars are so infrequent, and the background noise is so low, that you can just lie down in the middle of the road and take a nap. The sun is warm, the birds are singing, and if a car does come you can hear the whisper of its tires on the road from enough of a distance that you can get up casually, stretch, and meander to the shoulder without fear.

About 5:00pm the sunlight began to take on that magical low-horizon quality. I got this shot up the side of a hill. I like it a lot; it evokes immediate memories of warm summer days behind the house in Scotts Valley, laying in the dry grass, watching clouds.

About 20 miles along, I rolled to a stop next to this open glade. Totally quiet except for chirping birds and buzzing late-summer dragonflies. The ground was a carpet of dried flowers and short grass. That lump you see in the middle is not actually a rock ... it is a heap of dark gravel. I walked out there and ate a late lunch, then took off my shoes and jammed my hands and feet into the warm stones. After a while of staring at the sky, I fell asleep.

I woke up just a little while later, with a strong sense of ... solidity. A feeling of being within myself, occupying myself, in a way that I hadn't been for a long time. I was here, and it was time to move forward with who I was, from where I was.

I got back on the bike, and kept pedaling.

I asked someone to take my photo in the Lake Merritt Bart station. The woman was confused that my camera did not have a display on it like a television, until I told her to look through the viewfinder to frame the shot.

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