----Before I go on I think that the reader should know that there are certain embellishments in the story I am writing below. For instance, I mention lifting a bicycle. I also mention climbing. These are activities that might involve a lot of upper body strength, which is something I obviously don't have a lot of. Hence, when you read these tidbits just assume that I made it up.----
I looked at the two gates. One was solar powered with a small electronic key. The other was padlocked. I noticed the bolt had a note attached, "if you have a problem call" some conservationist office. I also noticed that the padlocked gate was fully exposed to the neighborhood. I chose to stash my bike behind a bush on the south wall and snuck over it. I walked and walked keeping mind that the other road was likely very near. After climbing to a certain height I discovered a view of a huge gully adjacent to El Granada southwest of Frenchman's Creek.
There below me was the other road. It snaked up towards Montara Mountain, which I could see in the distance. I turned around and headed back because the maps had indicated that this was the direction I needed to take to Sweeny Ridge. Returning to the gates I realized that I was looking at a three way intersection with only two gates. Beating around in the bushes I discovered a rent in the fence separating two different properties: one pertaining to conservationists and one pertaining to some owner that saw reason to buy a solar powered gate.
I walked through the rent. Walked down to the gate and saw the name of the conservation group in charge: Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST). I grabbed the bike and climbed up to the saddle. There were a bunch of places where I saw the markings of activity on the road. On the south road I saw tire treads from bicycles using the rent. I also saw many tire marks on the north road. I could see El Granada and Half Moon Bay.
Climbing on my bike I crossed several intersections but tried to stay left as I was bearing towards North Peak. I caught a view of Lock's creek and in the middle of the valley there was a building with a few tents. Fearing that the people in the house would see me I checked a small secondary road to the west but thought better of it.
I approached the house warily and discovered it was unoccupied. A couple of tents. Some notices indicated that it was used for meetings and the tents were left by boarders who only occasionally came to visit. Next to here I found a small grove of trees and an intersection. I once again stayed to the left but at this point I started worrying that I was going the wrong way. This was when I noticed that what seemed like a secondary branching of the road contained a gate and signs placed by the SFPUC. I searched around the gate and found a deer carcase that a mountain lion may have left.
I decided that this was the best way to go. I hate hoisting bikes over fences.
I climbed and climbed and it sucked. Here I was able to finally see where the secondary roads on either side of the building had gone. I knew that while both would eventually meet up with the one I was on, I wasn't certain that I would meet up with them. This was almost entirely because from the height at which I was (approx. 1700 feet) allowed me to see the other directions well.
Up to this point I kept saying to myself, "If I get to Linda Mar that is fine." However, I had begun to think that I was in fact going the correct direction. I was certain that I could see both the road to Sweeny Ridge but also the ridge itself.
When I finally got to a fork in the road I chose to go right instead. Then I descended. I did this for a while since I had taken on much elevation in the earlier part of the day. When the bike came to a stop I looked down and saw Linda Mar, behind me I saw the middle peak of Montara Mountain, to my right I saw Pilarcitos Creek and straight ahead what I could only assume was Sweeny Ridge.
Casting back in my mind I tried to remember how many intersections there were ahead of me. I moved on knowing that there were several hills likely before me and I was running out of water. In time I came across two intersections and both times I chose to go left.
When I arrived at the gate to Sweeny ridge I was relieved. Up to this point I was under the impression that I would make a mistake. I rode on and saw markers on the side of the road. The first said "8" and then the next two said "9" and more. This made me think twice about the gate I had just crossed, "Wasn't I returning to the trail-head by now?" Finally I learned the meaning of the markers. A whole new gate.
Called the Portola Gate, this one was obviously an important one. It indicated that the last gate was actually outside of Sweeny Ridge. I threw the bike over a low spot of the fence and then climbed underneath. This didn't work. I came back and climbed over the fence near the bike. I threw it back. Then I unpacked the bike and hung it on the gate itself. This worked.
I rode down to Sneath lane and then up highway 35.
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