In Which We Conquer Hawk Hill

Crossing the Golden Gate in San Francisco.

Across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco there are tall hills, including one prominent one that offers a panoramic view of the bridge: Hawk Hill.

There is a road that goes up Hawk Hill, and you can ride your bicycle up that road—if you dare. It is quite a climb.

Wednesday, May 29, 2019, was cool and a little breezy, but also mostly sunny. My son and I walked down to The Bike Shed, a bicycle rental place run as a fundraiser by a nonprofit that benefits children, arriving just before 10 a.m. The man running the hut was a few minutes late, and another customer—a woman waiting to purchase a lock and bell for her bicycle—was also waiting.

Once he arrived, the hut man said there were very few bikes in my size, but I rented one of the few: an orange Fuji that was a “gravel” bike—mostly a road bike, but with wider tyres more typical of a hybrid bike. Speaking for myself, if I had much gravel to ride on, I would have rather have a mountain bike—but no matter, today’s ride was totally pavement. Perhaps I got a bit too acquainted with pavement, as you will read.

We went back to my son’s apartment to get his bicycle and, about 11 a.m., we were off.

My son noted there would be a few climbs to get to the Golden Gate Bridge, and at one point, at the top of one, told me that was “the little hill.” It didn’t seem all that little to me, but I guess that was in comparison to what was coming.

The transit of the Golden Gate Bridge was pretty, although very slow. On weekdays, they close one side of the bridge and mix bikers and pedestrians—who use separate sides of the bridge on weekends.

No matter, my one biking super power is an ability to balance while moving very slowly, although as you will read, that ability traumatically failed me once on this ride.

After the bridge we had a decision point. We could ride directly to Salsalito, or tackle Hawk Hill. Well, how often will I be biking in the Bay Area? I told Jon that if we rested for a minute and had a snack, I would be ready to try Hawk Hill.

And so we did. The hill began with a steep ascent that leveled off for a while, but then got steep again. Wikipedia says the hill is 923 feet, although that may be from sea level, which we don’t start at, and the road doesn’t go all the way to the summit—still, we climbed hundreds of feet in one intense hill climb that seems bigger than any Iowa river valley climb I’ve encountered on RAGBRAI. And I made it—slowly. Jon even came back at one point to check on me and passed me again headed uphill—but I rode up Hawk Hill.

CR Biker and son at top of Hawk Hill, cell phone selfie.

The view was quite nice.

However, that also meant I had to ride down Hawk Hill. Much as some ascents are a pain, heading down a steep hill can be a dicey proposition, too. I tested the drum brakes of my rental bike a lot on the twisty back side of Hawk Hill. Along the way, it was interesting to see some old coastal defenses, crumbling bunkers and emplacements for shore guns.

Then we were riding in rural California—dry hills and horse barns. It was a little weird to be in open countryside just a few minutes away from San Francisco, but nice, too. The climate was suddenly warm, with the afternoon sun heating us up. It never got hot, but what had been a cool day in San Francisco was a warm early summer day in the countryside north of the city.

Waiting for ferry (above) on the bike trail (below).

 

We stopped for lunch at a taco place in Salsalito, and then rode over to Tiburon, where we caught a ferry to cross the bay.

We hadn’t done a 10-mile loop on the northern peninsula because I was a little worn by the hill climb and ride, but the ferry ride rested me, and I told Jon we could ride a bit more in San Francisco. Sadly, that was my undoing.

It was late afternoon by now, rush hour traffic was getting heavy. We turned down Market Street. The breezy cool day was back. It was both exhilarating and a bit frightening to be riding through that windy canyon between tall buildings. There was lots of traffic of every type—cars, busses, trucks, bicycles, pedestrians.

I tried to make some images while we were stopped at intersections, but quickly decided one does not take photos while one bicycles in downtown San Francisco at rush hour. Nonetheless, I was putting my camera away at one corner when the light turned green. I’m not sure exactly what happened next—was I starting with just one hand on the handlebars? Did I strike an unseen rock? In any case, on my first push, I somehow overbalanced and tumbled to the street.

Ouch. California bikers turned out to be a caring lot, and I was met with a chorus of “are you OK?” In the scheme of things, I suppose I was. I was lucky to fall while I had not really been moving, but I still hit the street pretty hard.

I quickly pulled off to the side. The handlebars of the rental bike had been turned so they didn’t match the front wheel any more. Still, the bike seemed otherwise undamaged and it was easy to twist the handlebar back into place.

Traffic at the corner where I fell.

I, however, was a bit dinged up. I have collected numerous minor injuries—a large bruise on my upper right arm, a sore left ear and mark on my face, a bit of road rash on my left knee. Biggest of all, my torso must have hit the bike, because my upper stomach has a very tender, very large red mark.

Still, I was lucky. No bleeding, no bad joint sprains and no broken bones. I didn’t jar my teeth on the way down. As falls and injuries go, it was not among the bad ones.

It makes a lot of sense to me now, however, that my sister bought herself a tricycle. They are hard to fall off of, although I don’t think I would have ridden one on Market Street at rush hour.

I’ll have to be a bit more careful. Of course, I was on an unfamiliar bike in a strange place in a crowd of traffic at the end of a bit of a ride—all of those are factors. But the spill was nonetheless something I would prefer to avoid.

Despite the ding near the end, we rode a pleasant 35 miles. Not quite as many miles as I had hoped to—my goal was 40—but it did include Hawk Hill, so I think I can note it as a decent RAGBRAI training day.

And if you get the chance, do ride a bike across the Golden Gate Bridge, it is very nice. If it’s a good enough bike with the right gear, go ahead, ride up Hawk Hill. It’s a challenge, but even an old man can do it.

But when you get back to the city, please take care.

Traffic on Market Street 1906. Not all that different, but more bicycle and less horses now.