Foresthill Bridge

On July 16, 2023, I wrote that the previous day I had just left the town of Foresthill on Foresthill Road. The air was still only a bit warm but I knew the ride would be difficult. As I rode to a place I noticed on the map called Everybody’s Inn, the ride was easy enough with the singular exception of a pick up merging with traffic near the end.

I had a beer at the tavern and took in the aged interior. Apparently, the owner Cynthia had stopped offering rooms years ago and mostly catered to the breakfast crowd.

As Foresthill Road runs along the narrow Foresthill Ridge heading west from town. As it trends downhill for the most part, I knew that my ride was not going to be that difficult. However, there are occasionally segments which go up and in the areas approaching Foresthill Bridge the dips and rises become more prominent. I did this cycle about three times and on the way got photos of Monte Verde – a local landmark. I also spoke to two utility arborists.

I was low on water, and after a little walking and riding I made the Auburn Recreation Area bike trails. Sadly, it was too hot and complicated so I returned to the road. The Upper Clemintine toll house staff gave me water – but I don’t think they were very accommodating.

I rode to a trail parking lot on the south side of the road and ate most of the rest of my food. Then I went to lower Clementine and Old Auburn Road. Every mile or so I would stop to catch my breath and it was almost entirely because of the heat.

When I got to Foresthill Bridge, California’s tallest, the wind was slowing me, even as the grade downward increased. I also found my skin was a lot dryer when I was riding because of it. I stopped near the bridge and went over both sides of the roadway for photos. I was burning up and dehydrated. I finished my water.

Looking at the bridge from the east side only enhanced its prominence. Built as access to the canceled Auburn Dam, it connects the Foresthill Divide to populated areas near i80 and essentially made my trip possible.

As the trails below and adjacent to the bridge were obviously insufficient for my tastes, I rode straight across and the situation for water was worse. I also noticed anti-suicide notes on the bridge. There were two trails connected at the bridge but they descended into the canyon before heading in the direction of Auburn and therefore not great.

Climbing to Lincoln in Auburn was really hard and once I was at the top, I knew I only had minutes before I would die of exhaustion. There was no shade and I took a wrong turn but made my hotel fast enough. I noted too that the front desk staff was really nice. They gave me water and offered friendly assistance.

Over the rest of the afternoon I floated around in the pool and jacuzzi, had a burger at the restaurant and did a bit of laundry. Then, when the sun had set I rode to downtown to visit the California Club. The drunks were rude, but I had a good time.

In the morning of the day that I wrote this I woke up around 615 and managed to get on my train easily enough. At the train station there was no ticket machine so the conductor gave me a discount. I sat on the train writing and drinking coffee. The train was full. There were older people talking, toddlers with their moms. They were reclusive table mates. I was getting off at Richmond station.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.