tuesday

Day 2 of the inaugural Summer Drive Week yielded another spectacular day of driving and sightseeing along some of the Bay Area's most remote backroads. For today's drive I selected Highway 130, the drive up and over Mt. Hamilton. My ride for this journey is the Lexus IS350. As with all the other posts, click on the photo thumbnails for a larger view.

The drive up to Mt. Hamilton begins in East San Jose, heading up some back country roads that are probably over 150 years old.

They started as an old trail up to the 4200 ft peak where the University of California built the Lick Observatory back in the 1880s. The Observatory remains open to this day, and is open to visitors with daily tours. The roads are narrow and super twisty, with multiple hairpins and switchbacks as it winds its way up the mountain. And mere feet away from the edge of the road, the ground drops away in steep sheer edges. The vistas of the bay area below are breath-taking, but sight seeing is best left to passengers because the driver definitely has his or her hands full. Many a motorist, motorcyclist or bicyclist has fallen victim to this road, and sometimes their mistake or lapse of concentration is fatal. You definitely have to respect this road, and navigate your way up carefully.

When I got up to the Observatory I saw this old school VW Beetle parked there and just had to snap it. It really set the scene and you could imagine the place looking pretty much the same some 40 years ago.

There's a gift shop at the Observatory and I had to stop in and check it out, and chat briefly with the lady who runs it. She told me that it snows up on Mt. Hamilton nearly every year, and the postcards on display showed the whole area lightly coated in white snow -- a stark contrast to what it was like today, with temps in the high 80s. I picked up a few postcards to bring home, some striking night and evening photos taken by a local photographer. If you go to her website (www.lauriehatch.com) the first photo on the page shows a lightning strike near the telescope dome -- that's one of the cards I bought.

Setting off down the other side of the mountain, the road's name changes to San Antonio Valley Rd. Slightly less treacherous than the San Jose side, it's still a winding and steep descent.

Shortly after after leaving the Observatory I spot a bicyclist on his way up, and he flags me. I roll down my window and see if he is allright. The look on his face is one of exhaustion and resignation. "I can't make it," he murmurs. "How much further is it?" Not far, I tell him, no more than 2 miles. But it's all uphill. I offer to take him back up there, but he declines, choosing to walk his bike the rest of the way up. He says his friends are ahead of him, and they will probably come back to pick him up in their truck if he doesn't catch up to them. I make sure he has water, and leave him to face the rest of his daunting climb. I can't help but feel a little guilty pulling away, the cool AC blowing in my face, my butt settling into the plush leather seats, groovy chill music softly emanating from my 14 speakers. And so I continue my descent into the valley of nowhere.

It's literally the middle of nowhere. It's the largely undeveloped, unpopulated expanse of land that lies east of San Jose, largely inaccessible due to the imposing Mt. Hamilton that looms behind you. Once I descend into the valley the road flattens out and there are fields and meadows where cows lazily graze. I stopped and snapped a few of them. One of them seemed to stare at me and my car in amazement before turning its back on me and walking off into the distance.

Somewhere along the way down the mountain, my GPS satellite navigation system seemed to lose focus on the task at hand -- telling me how far to go to my next destination. In this case it is the Concannon winery and vineyards up in Livermore.

Believe it or not, the road twists and turns its way through nothingness, changes its name a few times and eventually takes you up to Livermore. That's fine, I know the route because I've driven it before. But I started my drive with only a half tank of gas, and I may have miscalculated the amount of fuel needed to make it back to civilization. Using the voice navigation commands as I continue my drive, I ask the system to show me the nearest gas station. The calm motherly voice informs me, "No selected destination found around here." Fantastic. My onboard computer tells me I have about 40 miles worth of gas remaining, and a few minutes later I pass a small sign that says Livermore is 31 miles away. It's going to be kinda close. Time to stop sightseeing, and stopping at every curve to snap a photo with the motor running. Time to stop downshifting and flooring the gas exiting every turn. I even shut off the AC to try and eke out a few extra MPG and start tackling the curves with a maintain-my-momentum strategy. Less braking, less acceleration, try to coast my way down the hills as much as possible.

I start thinking about contingency plans. Flag down a passing car and ask for help? What cars? The road is deserted and it might be hours before another one passes through. Find a residence or ranch of some sort, and hope they have some spare gas? There's barely anything out here. As a last resort I could call Lexus or AAA and they could send a tow truck out with a gallon or two of gas -- but out here I don't know if my cell phone has any signal from the network. Man, it's getting hot in here.

As I continue to make my way through the canyons, I notice painted numbers on the road. And the numbers seem to be decreasing. 19. Then 18. 15. If my hunch is correct these are mile markers. But markers from what? What lies at mile 0? The beginning of civilization, and the prospect of a gas station, or some historical landmark still out in the boonies? The low fuel light on my dashboard comes on.

At long last I reach an intersection and once again call upon my navi to find a gas station. This time I am rewarded with a multitude of gas station icons, and I gratefully select one. Running on fumes, I pull into a 76 and tank up my thirsty steed.

Petrochemical needs fulfilled, I find my way back to the Concannon winery. Unfortunately I have arrived shortly after the tasting room has closed, and so I take a few snaps of the nice picnic area and vineyards, and head for home.

All these photos and more are available to view here: http://www.imagestation.com/album/?id=2104855868