It had been too long between holidays (for us anyway), so as soon as day shift was done, we wanted to venture out. After a sleep-in on Saturday, we opted for a morning of F1 instead. It was the inaugural Miami GP and we couldn’t resist! We managed to fit in all three practice sessions just before qualifying went live. It was a great session and the 3+ hours of couch racing time was just what we needed to get amped about getting away. I timed it, it took us an hour and a half to load the van and drive away. We stopped for supplies and fuel ($5.07/gallon was the cheapest in the Bay!) about an hour north, then continued on that heading until we came to Lake Hennessey.
We enjoyed a gorgeous drive through Napa with the vines in full bloom, though we were surprised not to see a single person at any of the wineries. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, everything was in bloom and every lawn chair and outdoor table sat abandoned. There was mountain biking nearby and so if we could find a camp we were going to take it. At the Lake, we were met with a beautiful view and a hell of a lot of signs listing a hell of a lot of rules. They even said “no picnicking”! The lake was a drinkable water source for Napa hence the lack of fun allowed. Fine, so no camping options, but we were up for a little explore.
Out of the car we were hit with a wall of wind – a warning of the weather trends to come over the next few days. Dan donned his boot and we ventured a short way down to a trail that ran along the lake. Dan had an awkward run-in with the boat trailer a few days before and thanks to those who were injured before him (Dave), he was immobilizing his left shin/ankle to encourage a quick recovery. It gave him a nice lurch in his step.
We smiled as despite the courageous wind and determined to enjoy myself, I started plucking flowers and making a bouquet. We were disappointed when we lead Cleo to the water’s edge and she wasn’t interested in taking an illegal drink (no water contact allowed). We walked far enough to see the floating pier by the boat ramp and watched as an under-dressed couple ran out onto the end of the pier, took a selfie, then ran back to their car. Flexing for the ‘gram!
Despite the bright sun, it was past 7pm and therefore camp time. No worries that Hennessey was a dud, we had our regular spot at Mount Saint Helena. It was only half and hour up the road and when we got there, we were surprised to see not a single car. It’s a Saturday and there isn’t a single straggling climbing group? No matter to us, I got into the kitchen and cooked up some snags. Just as I was finishing up, I heard the loud rumble of a truck pull in and peeked out to see a big old truck with a large trailer attached swing into the lot with a white van behind it. I hopped in the van and we watched as we ate. This wasn’t a strictly legal camp so we were curious. Were they rangers? Were they dropping off construction gear for the next week? There was a lot of yelling, unclear direction-giving and peeping out of the curtains, a crackhead type walking around frantically. It was good entertainment for us to watch over dinner and in the end, we figured out they did not represent any official organization, but they parked up the truck and left in the van. A mystery.
Without service, we whiled away the rest of the night with our analogue devices (books).
The next morning, we slept late, snoozing in and out as we listened to climbers and hikers arrive into the parking lot and get ready for their Sunday of sport. By the time I was making breakfast, the lot was full and the day was warming up nicely. Just as I was dishing up the eggs, I felt a few drops of water on my head. It was bloody raining, and not really that gently either! No one in the carpark was dissuaded, we saw multiple parties trek off with their climbing gear. Hmm. The rain continued through breakfast and doing the dishes and having seen more than one climbing party head off towards the crag we were planning to climb, we decided to move on. There was a race on at lunch time and we had another mountain biking spot to check out. Better to leave the crowds to their wet crags and come back later.
As we drove north, the weather did not get better. The wind was howling and rain battered our windscreen. We saw multiple mountain bikes on car roofs as we drove through Middletown and all of them were covered in mud. These mountain biking spots came as a recommendation from a friend and he’d also told us that Boggs held a race on Saturday. That was where we were headed so I was a little concerned at how dirty we’d be getting!
The sun came out whenever it could and we hoped as we climbed up to Boggs Demonstration Forest that maybe it would shine over us. Still operating without cell service, as we approached the town of Cobb, we did our best to find the trailhead to the Boggs trail network. We drove up and down a windy road a bit and found a road off to the side that was in the right direction so tried that. It sat above a school on the other side of the road and I was convincing myself that they would have used the school for parking at the race yesterday. I was guessing wrong, the road ended as soon as it got going so we knew we’d got it wrong. At a loss of where else to look, we got out to have a look around anyway, walking up the deteriorating road. It wasn’t currently raining, but wow was the wind cutting through us. This was not mountain biking weather – it wasn’t anything weather. Back to the car, we figured we should just try and find some cell service and watch the Miami GP. Miraculously, I restarted my phone and found I had exception cell service, so we levelled up exactly where we were and hunkered down to watch some racing. The pre-race show was halfway done by the time we got the stream set-up so our timing was on point!
It was a perfect way to spend our lunch time. We were very comfortable in the warm van, Cleo was watching the perimeter and the racing was good. We heard the rain hit the roof on and off over the next couple of hours but when we saw hail I was surprised. Perfect little balls of ice were falling all around us! Happy to be inside.
With the race done, we had the rest of the afternoon to kill. I’m not that good at sitting around so I was determined to go riding, no matter the weather. It’s only wind and rain and hail. Now armed with cell service, we were able to find the trailhead – predictably down the end of Forestry Road. At the entrance to Boggs Demo Forest, we were met with multiple signs which we glazed over as we drove in. I hadn’t expected a network we could drive through and so instead of parking it and riding, Dan got his four-wheel explore on. We starting thinking about camping options just as we saw our first clearing in the forest, complete with a picnic table. Well wasn’t this a nice place! We found an established campground next and – more signs – it was closed until Memorial Day (May 30).
Carrying on deeper into the forest, we saw evidence of the race that had happened and drove towards a section of trail we could get onto. There we found a beautiful spot that we could call home for the night. We made ourselves a late lunch of grilled sandwiches, hoping for the sun to win-out over the clouds, but it remained a battle. We must have got going on our wheels around 4:30pm. Cleo was in hot pursuit, excited to be trail running again. We got onto Berry Trail and we were right into a beautiful section of single track with valley views opening up to our left. There was blue sky above us with just a peppering of white clouds. We’d timed it perfectly!
At the end of Berry, we got a bit lost trying to find a trail that didn’t exist anymore and Dan in his wisdom suggested I find the race loop and so we followed that. We climbed up a section of fire road, wondering how we could have missed the dozens of MTB tracks leading us in the right direction, then we were back onto single track.
We must have stopped at least four times to adjust our layers of clothing. We’d made our best guess on dressing for the weather.
As we gently climbed up some beautiful alpine track to Boggs Peak, we lost the blue skies. We were exposed to the south side of the mountain now and the wind was angry. Thankful to be pedalling up hill to keep us warm. When I stopped at the peak to set up the camera for a photo, Dan was confused – it was bloody freezing – we were about to get blown off the hill! Cleo didn’t seem too impressed either – but hey, in the photo we’re smiling.
Five minutes later, we were laughing. The hail was back! We’d just stopped to re-group and the small pellets started pelting us! Cleo runs scared at rain, let alone ice-rain so she was looking for a place to hide. We started laughing and yelled at her to run as we rode off with her! Her ears were down and her tail tucked, but she seemed convinced that we could run away from it. It was over within a minute and the white dots melted into the ground soon after leaving no evidence.
We endured only the wind to get back to base and now that we were going downhill, we had all of our layers back on. We veered away from the race circuit having found some single track but we soon discovered why the race hadn’t followed the trail – it was only halfway done! The fire that ripped through the area 7 years ago had destroyed the whole trail network and they were still finishing the restoration. Halfway down Gail’s trail we found a bob-cat which beautifully groomed single track in front of it and no evidence of a trail behind it.
Dan was off his bike quick smart and in the driver’s seat. He even looked for the key in the hopes of starting it up and taking it for a spin! Having ridden trails like these all over the country, it was nice to see the machine that digs them all out.
After back-tracking, it was fire road to get us home and though we’d barely gone 10km, wow did we have an adventure. Oh, and it hailed again just as we reached the car. Cleo couldn’t get into the van fast enough. Straight into Ramsie, heater on, we all thawed out and laughed about how I should probably check the weather before planning a trip!
Steak for dinner, what a treat, even Cleo got a pinch of it. What a great camp this was nestled among the swaying pine trees, even had enough service to get into some post-race F1 shows.
I was hoping for better weather Monday morning and we got it. Contemplating our options, Dan offered that I should go do another loop of Boggs while he and Cleo relaxed at camp – I could come and collect them for another tour if the full loop was decent. Cleo was moving slowly this morning, having not run more than a kilometer in the past month, we’d asked a lot of her yesterday and she was probably traumatized.
Just as I was getting kitted up to get going, Dan saw a Cal Fire truck pull up at the nearby road. Not wanting to appear as though we’d camped I got started getting the bike off the front. The CalFire man approached with a good morning and advised that we shouldn’t park here. We were blocking a trailhead and on top of an archaeological site. He directed us where we should park and didn’t ask us about our camping habits. Fair enough, people gotta have their rules.
We carefully navigated around the precious dinosaur bones that were surely underneath our tyres and parked in the middle of the forest as directed. From there, I was able to join Gail’s trail and start off on a complete clockwise loop. The trails on the north-east side of the park were great, but wow did I climb. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I knew Dan and Cleo wouldn’t. As I rode past last night’s camp and repeated the trails we’d done yesterday, I was happy knowing that Dan and Cleo had experienced the best trails. I was happy to have sun over my head which gave off just enough heat to lessen the wind load. I pushed it hard and enjoyed not having to navigate for the back half of the loop.
I met Dan at a new parking spot where he had a view and found him perched on Ramsie’s bed reading his book. It was barely lunch time so we still had a whole afternoon of climbing and riding to get to but the weather was fouling up so we sat in the warm van and contemplated our options. As we sat, we wondered about the cloud-generating buildings on the opposite ridge and Dan figured out they were geothermal power plants. Five of them were positioned on the hill side with water pipes leading up to them, feeding into the naturally hot underground cavities to generate steam and therefore power.
That got us thinking there must be hot springs in the area. Sure enough, we found a few potential spots as well as a built-up resort that wanted all of your money to dip your toe in. Right, we had a cause for adventure!
Despite having to drive into the valley and up the other side of it, Dan (and Google) declared that we’d be at or near Anderson-Bull Spring in twenty minutes! Off the main road, we drove up a steep and winding road that gave access to beautiful little properties nestled in the hills. Some new, some old, we played pretend that we were looking for a house as the tarmac turned to dirt. Sooner than we’d hoped, we were met with a gate with big no trespassing signs. Bugger, that was the end of our adventure.
On the way back, we parked at the top of a driveway without signage and Dan pointed the van towards the mountain range. There really was nothing else for it, we decided to simply sit and watch the weather. It was great entertainment, both of us just sitting and chatting as the weather moved over the hills, the geothermal plants contributing to the fast-moving clouds. The hail came again, then after lunch, it turned to bloody snow.
I was reading my book in the back when Dan made the proclamation that it was snowing. My mind had vaguely registered the fact that the hail was falling but without the sound, because it had turned to big fluffy pieces of powder! Looking over to Boggs peak, where I’d ridden only hours before, we couldn’t see it any more – it was shrouded in black. Helena was the same, so climbing was not on the cards.
We whiled away the afternoon in the warmth of Ramsie, me finishing my book, Dan doing some business work. The weather cleared (at least where we were) late in the afternoon when we both saw the closest rainbow we’d ever seen. We could almost see the gold in pot glittering!
When camp time rolled around, we considered our options – the first of which was driving further down the driveway we were parked at the top of. This was obviously going to turn into access to someone’s dream home one day, but for now, it was an overgrown, steep downhill road. No good since it didn’t offer any flat land further down. We didn’t really want to risk CalFire catching us at Boggs for a second night, so we motored on back to Mount Saint Helena.
We did some scouting as we neared the familiar Helena carpark and though the first fireroad off the main road came up with a gate on a hill, our next attempt was all that we’d hoped for. Dan remembered this road from our previous trips here but we’d never tried to drive down it. What a perfect spot it was! We were able to drive back well away from the road, on perfectly level ground and no signs telling us we were doing it wrong. There was even a babbling brook nearby! Thoroughly chuffed with ourselves, the forest darkened around us as I cooked dinner and we watched a downloaded movie before tucking ourselves in. Cleo, happy to have had a day of rest, was asleep by the window and snoring in seconds.
Tuesday came around with sun poking through the leaves of the forest. Well we’d seen that before, but the wind seemed to have abated. Today we would climb! We didn’t rush breakfast and moved on over to the main carpark before setting off towards Table Scraps. Predictably, we had the place to ourselves and despite the early morning sun, the light faded in and out above us. It seemed we were on for a repeat of the past few days.
We enjoyed an easy approach to the familiar crag, Dan managing the downhills easily in his boot but not so much the uphills. By the time we reached that crag that had been shrouded in sunlight only minutes before, drops of rain were falling, soon followed by drops of ice. Did I mention that it was mostly freezing for all of this trip? We looked up at the sky in an attempt to make predictions. There was a lot of blue up there, but a hell of a lot of grey too. The last thing we wanted was to be dumped on halfway up the wall. We umm’ed and ahh’ed for a few minutes, then I decided I might as well get my kit on – that would make the sun come out. We informed the weather makers of our intentions, shouting loudly that we were putting our helmets on, “TYING IN NOW!”, “OK, I’M ABOUT TO GO CLIMBING!”
As soon as I put my hands on the rock, the sun came out and I enjoyed it while it lasted. It was a gentle 5.6 route (warming up since we haven’t climbed in a while) up volcanic rock and in the sun without wind, it was pleasant with only two long-sleeved shirts on. Dan followed me up, swapping the boot for his climbing shoe and while he enjoyed it, it wasn’t the right thing to do for his injury so that was him done. We’d expected that, so no big deal, I started up the next route, a 5.7. The sun wasn’t on my side this time and the wind that whipped around me turned my hands to ice quick smart. At the anchor we decided this would probably be our climbing done for the day.
Dan hastily took his harness off at that proclamation, but there was a 5.9 route right in front of us and the clouds seemed to be parting so he kitted up again and belayed me up the face of the crag. It was a lovely route and the sun came out to see me up it. That’s all I wanted – just a few routes!
The surrounding storm brewed ominously as we walked back to the car and while Table Scraps now looked doom and gloom, the valley on the opposite side of the ridge was all sunflowers and daisies.
Our holiday wasn’t done yet, we still had some mountain biking to do! We drove off Saint Helena and back to Lake Hennessey to Moore Creek Park. More rules here – there must have been about twenty signs leading down into the deserted carpark. Something about “trails don’t build themselves…”, “make your donation here”, and my favourite, “this is how much you should donate to offset your carbon footprint”. Yeah right.
We made ourselves a late lunch and washed it down with some Bud Light, then started up our banter with the weather makers again. “Yes, we are going mountain biking now!” All that did was generate some lightning and thunder! At least it was something new! If Cleo hates rain, she is mortified by thunder and lightning, but good on her, as we rode off she duly followed. I think she was happy to be moving and scared to be anywhere other than near us.
We got started on our clockwise loop, crossing a nice bridge to get started, did a little climbing, then dropped through a valley before grinding up some fire road. There were a few spots of rain, but it was mostly the cracks of thunder that kept us company. Any time we stopped, Cleo got right between our legs or underneath the bike frame for protection, but when she was running, she was invincible.
Dan and Cleo stayed with me until we reached Conn Peak. It was gently raining by this point and for Dan and Cleo to carry on would have meant committing to the 13km loop. I was happy to do that, but not for them! We said goodbye and Cleo happily followed Dan instead of me – at least he was heading in the direction of the van.
I rode hard then, completing the Moore Creek loop that took me through open paddocks, over slippery rocks and to views of Hennessey Lake. It was a nice route with some really nice climbing and since the rain was gentle I didn’t really mind it.
I was happy to be on a bike with a non-metallic frame! It took me just about an hour to finish the loop and roll back into the carpark where Dan had only just settled in to start reading his book and Cleo was shivering in fear on the bed.
I laughed when Dan told me about the park host who’d driven his truck the 100m from the gate house to the carpark to do what we don’t know, but he definitely wasn’t thinking about his carbon footprint. I got changed out of my wet clothes and we piled into the van to head home. We’d had a great trip that wasn’t at all what we’d imagined, but hey, we’d made the most of it.
We hit a little traffic on the way south through Napa and even after all we’d experienced, we had to do a double-take when we saw fields of white stuff on the ground amongst the grape vines and piled up on the side of the road. We’d just missed a hail storm! It had obviously come down hard enough to settle like snow on the ground!
Thanks Helena, what a lesson in weather-watching we’ve had!
