Waxing Gibbous Moon
I chipped away another little piece of the Bay Area Ridge Trail today, riding the Dream Machine from Metcalf Park on the southern outskirts of San Jose to Tully Road (closing in on the city) and back. I pedaled 18.4 miles but I can only claim 9.2 miles toward the 325-mile end goal. Big deal, right? Still, it was a really nice, smooth ride on a paved bike path past Hellyer Park and along some unnamed golf course with 30-foot fences. Lucky me, I got to see everything twice.
Just as I arrived at the golf course part, with about 2 miles left until Tully Road, the trash dumps and tent colonies started appearing on the banks of Coyote Creek. The wreckage grew and grew as I got closer to the city. Golf on one side of the 30-foot fence. Squalor and pollution on the other. There was a smoldering fire with somebody's sleeping bag on top of it at one point. Sending smoke signals?
The fire was surrounded by trees and other camps. Should I have called 911? Or does this kind of thing occur every day? I just kept going, feeling heartless and hopeless. I kept thinking of that old Richard Farina book, Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up To Me.
Enough of that.
Hellyer Park has a huge pond slash little lake surrounded by a bike path with benches and ducks and geese and coots all over the place. It was beautiful on this sunny day. The coots hardly acknowledged my presence, though. Snooty coots they were.