Once Upon a Ride: Big Basin Blowout

June 7, 1981, Corn Roast ride through Big Basin State Park. Just before abandoning sew-ups. From left: Roger ?, Jim Westby, Parker McComas, Rick Humphreys, Ray Hosler, Dan Green, Tom Ritchey, Tom Holmes.

May 24, 1981

Riders: Jobst Brandt, Tom Ritchey, Ted Mock, Ray Hosler, Strange John, Rick Humphreys

Route: Up Alpine Road, Skyline to 9, 9 to 236, service road to Big Basin State Park, Gazos Creek Road, Cloverdale Road, Stage Roads, Hwy 1, Purisima Creek Road, Kings Mountain Road

Weather: Warm, partly cloudy, humid

Tire/Mechanical: None

As the Indianapolis car racers revved their engines this Memorial Day weekend, the Jobst Riders rode their machines through the Santa Cruz Mountains, talking about the upcoming Corn Roast in Swanton and the Sierra ride the second weekend in June.

On this Sunday morning Ted Mock showed up. The professional photographer is a veteran bike racer who now just rides with Jobst. In his mid-30s, Ted rents a house with bicycle frame builder Peter Johnson on College Avenue in midtown Palo Alto.

As we rode on Alpine Road we came across a motley crew of Palo Alto Bike Shop riders — Ron Hoffacker, Don McBride, Kathy Williams, Dave Prion and Brian Cooley. Then we passed triathlete Mark Sisson as he changed a flat tire.

At the green gate where the two-mile dirt section of Alpine Road begins, Jobst observed a Hutton’s Vireo feeding its young in a nest. We carried on with the shop riders and talked about all topics under the sun, the chance of rain, etc.

The riders rolled south on Skyline with an incomparable view of fog hugging the nearby mountains, all the while being followed by a telephone company van. Jobst figured the driver was looking for a particular power pole on the roadside.

At the Cal fire station water fountain we tanked up our water bottles, except Jobst, who never carries one. As we swatted horse flies, Jobst recalled an incident in France: “I was riding along when I felt this sting under my neck, so I took a swat and thought I had rid myself of the pest. Well, a few minutes later I noticed a stinging sensation again and took another swat at the same spot. This time I felt a big splat and saw blood all over my hand when I drew it away.”

The ride down 9 went at its usual high speed. Rick turned off at Waterman Gap to head back for a wedding. This left Jobst, Ted, Ray and Tom. On the North Escape Road into Big Basin park, Tom noticed a sign, and when they stopped for water at a stream Tom said, “They put that sign there because of what happened to me in Yosemite Park.”

Know park regulations

Tom said that he was cited by a ranger for riding his bicycle on the trails in Yosemite. The park had a rule against riding any mechanized vehicle on trails in the park. The sign Tom referred to said: “You are responsible for knowing park regulations.”

We stopped at the park store and purchased some expensive food while Jobst told the clerk where they were headed. “That sounds like a spine-jarring experience,” she replied. As we sat eating we talked about Peter’s sleeping habits, the amazing ability of John Howard to recall names, distinguishing marks over the eyes of Steller’s Jays and the disappearance of Strange John.

We decided to head up Gazos Creek Road, one of Jobst’s favorite rides through the redwoods. We rode by several deer next to the road, which didn’t move a muscle as we passed within inches. “They know where they are!” Jobst said.

After about five miles of moderate ups and downs on the dirt road we reached a junction and the Sandy Point Guard Station, or what was left of it. It had burned down in the 1960s.

We headed steeply down Gazos Creek Road and passed a large wooden sign declaring this land to be a tree farm.

Jobst pointed out that someone had tried to chop down the sign with an ax. That brought back memories of the Dog Town sign in Marin County off Hwy 1, which got chopped down time and again by sign collectors.

We dropped down Gazos Creek Road, which was in great shape with the exception of small muddy spots from recent rains. Two cycle tourists loaded down with bags slowly descended as we blew by.

As we rode on the flat section of Gazos Creek Road following the creek, Jobst and Tom got into a heated argument about religion, which was par for the course.

Along Cloverdale Road (dirt at the time) a car came speeding by at 60 mph, kicking up a cloud of dust. Jobst turned around to watch and see if it could make a difficult corner. He didn’t see it and declared, “It could be in a ditch now for all we know.”

As we rode past the Butano State Park entrance, Jobst remembered a bike race held here, which went through the hills to our right over fire roads.

Tom headed home on Pescadero Road while the rest of us turned left to Pescadero. Jobst pointed out the town’s new flag pole, about 40 feet tall with a huge American flag waving in the ocean breeze. The old wooden pole blew down in a storm.

Pescadero festival

In Pescadero we were greeted by Holy Ghost Festival signs. We stopped at a new store and Jobst greeted the owner. who he knew by name. Outside we listened to Jobst doing his usual harangue on all sorts of topics: lousy car suspensions, bad tires on a VW Bug, an overweight cyclist, and so on.

We continued north on Stage Road to Hwy 1, where we turned right and continued to Purisima Creek Road. During the gentle climb to the dirt section Jobst identified many different birds and pointed out San Mateo County’s first oil well hugging the hillside above the creek.

The sun peeked through the fog along the coast while we enjoyed the lush green canyon cut by Purisima Creek over the eons. An old logging road would take us to Skyline Boulevard, with some sections as steep at 18 percent. [The Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District purchased the surrounding land around this time.]

Guns in Purisima Creek

Heading up the lower reaches of the dirt road before the wooden bridge, we came upon a group of four hikers, one of them carrying a dog with a broken leg.

Later on we passed two hikers dressed in military fatigues, one of them toting an AR15 (civilian version of the M16). Jobst asked, “What are you going to do with that?” The gun-toting hiker replied, “We’re going to shoot targets.”

At the bridge we stopped to enjoy the creek and Jobst commented what a pity it is that trout no longer live in Purisima Creek.

After the difficult climb, we headed down Kings Mountain Road, Jobst and Ted passing a speeding Mercedes convertible on the way.

Jobst drinks from Purisima Creek at the upper bridge. Photo taken day of this ride. It’s overgrown here today.