I've been riding in Northern California for the last week or so. I don't know every curve in these hills by heart, but I recognize the way they rise and fall the way you recognize a smile warming across the face of an old friend.
Took me a couple of outings to fully get over a cold I had and put my legs back under me, but yesterday the morning sun was warm and I had a fine time climbing up a gentle grade on the way out, coasting (mostly) back downhill on the way back. These are truly some of my favorite riding hills.
When the weather's fine, you can taste the dusty, dusky scent of the hills as you ride, dried grasses and eucalyptus and California live oak. A friend in college had an aunt who could make tea that tasted like the dry smell of summer hills.
1 comment:
That photo looks like landscape should. The Alps are beautiful, and they make more sense every year I live in Basel, but they'll never quite be like the hills around Palo Alto for this Detroit-born but half-California boy. A.
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