One Devil of a Climb in the East Bay
(continued)

The final segment of the climb to the summit, after the junction, is 4.5 miles long with an average gradient of 6.5%-7%. Unlike the two roads that converge at its base, Summit Road is relentlessly uphill. But the effort is well worth it, especially on a clear summer’s day, when the mountain’s unobstructed position provides views to the east that extend all the way to the Sierras.

(Below: On Summit Road)

Soon I reached the point that I had designated the "no-talking zone"; that is to say the area just before and just after Oak Knoll Picnic Area. Back when I used to ride this on Saturday mornings with the two Toms, we’d always be yappin’ about this and that until we get to this spot, whereupon all conversation would abruptly cease. It is quite strenuous (probably 9%-10% or more) and does not let up until the next bend.

(Above: The steepest section of Summit Road)

(Above: One of the many inviting picnic nooks in the park)

After a few more minutes, and after having passed the last picnic area before the summit, I saw the first set of summit masts. Less than 1 ½ miles remain to the summit. This first set of masts came at the top of another tough segment, a stretch punctuated by a steep hairpin turn to the left. But as soon as I rounded this turn, I knew that the riding would be easy for the next kilometer or so.

(Above and Below: The last steep section approaching the summit of Mt. Diablo)

(Below: Looking southwest from the summit parking lot, Summit Road visible in the middle)

But the defining feature of the climb to Mt. Diablo was yet to come—the narrow, one-way, 100-meter 17% finishing stretch from the lower summit parking lot to the higher one. Approaching this stretch, one prays that no motorist would come up from behind and breathe down one’s neck (it happened to me once, and it wasn’t very much fun).

I used to gauge my fitness based upon the gearing I needed to get up this ramp. I would always choose a gear and tried to summit without shifting. As I recall, the best I had ever managed was a 39 x 17, back in my TerribleTwo days. As far as the effort required to climb it was concerned, not much had changed—I reached the summit just at the point where I couldn’t go on without shifting to an easier gear. Gasping for air, I circled the lot several times before getting off Erasmus to renew my acquaintance with an old devil of a friend.

(Above: Last challenge--the 17% one-way road to the summit parking lot)

(Above: The Mt. Diablo summit observatory, as seen through fogged-up lenses)

It was commonly accepted by the Mt. Diablo cycling community that the mountain’s summit was second only to Mt. Kilimanjaro in terms of panoramic scope. Claims had been made that one could see Half Dome in Yosemite Valley, almost 200 miles to the east, on a clear day, or Mt. Lassen (even farther away to the north). I personally think the claim about its panoramic standing is a bit optimistic and colored with local pride; surely, somewhere, there’s another peak that provides more panoramic view than the summit of this 3,800-foot mountain? Personally, I could vouch for having seen snow on the Sierra peaks from the summit, but that was all…

Alas, it was a hazy day, and I couldn’t see the Pacific Ocean a few miles to the west, let alone Half Dome. But it wasn’t hazy enough to obscure the incessant raping of the land that was happening in the foothill town of Clayton. Hills being flattened and reshaped so another American middle-class family could live the dream. How does Don Henley’s song go? "Some rich man came and raped the land, nobody caught him; put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus people bought them." And yes, it looked ugly. My, my, aren’t we in a sanctimonious mood today?

Last Updated: July 13, 2000