Even the best rider can get tossed mountain biking around Folsom Lake
I suppose since I haven’t been notified, I probably didn’t win the Sacramento Bee’s essay contest of “Why I Love Sacramento”. Admittedly, my heart lies in the Folsom Lake area, but that is essentially Sacramento as far as I am concerned. Virtually everyone who comes to the lake is from Sacramento so i think it qualifies. Anyhow, I had fun writing the little 400 word essay, so I thought I would share it.
Why I love Sacramento
As I pull my bike on to the trail all I hear is the crunch of decomposed granite under my tires on another hot Sacramento summer afternoon. At first, my trail runs and rides around Folsom Lake were just for exercise. Today, the trails, lake and bike paths consume my weekends with seasonal changes to the landscape, discoveries and history. This is what makes Sacramento special to me.
The smell of grilling meats mixed with sun tan lotion filling my nose as I ride through Granite Bay
The Pioneer Express Trail as you come into the olive orchard.
beach. People are playing Frisbee, kids are splashing in the lake and I hear panoply of languages. From people talking and singing in English, Spanish, Hindi, and Russian, Folsom lake seems to be the epicenter for Sacramento cultural diversity in summer.
My ride will take me throughout the trails north to Beeks Bight. Along the way I’ll pass other cyclists, folks riding horses, hikers, and runners. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of a snake, deer or coyote. Oak and pine trees create a canopy of green to keep all of us cool in the summer heat as we traverse the trails.
Folsom Lake becomes peacefully quiet come fall. The autumnal sun drops low in the horizon and lights up the lichen and moss covering the tree trunks and branches. With the cool mornings, a warm Folsom Lake will steam making the distant fishing boats look like they are siting in a simmering pot. I’ll hike down to the abandoned olive orchard and pick a bag full of ripe olives to be cured in brine back home.
Old irrigation canal normally under the water line of Folsom Lake, that fed water to Baldwin Reservoir and probably the olive orchard.
The low winter water level of Folsom Lake allows me to wander the vestiges of the North Fork Ditch as it winds through a barren lake bottom. Next to the sand filled ditch I can trace the faint outlines of the old railroad that passed around Beals Point and the ridge with the old gold mine on top over looking Folsom.
With spring’s arrival, the utter silence on the back trails is filled with the songs
of birds. The lizards are back out and so are so many other folks who seemed to have hibernated over the winter. As puffy white clouds float over head, we nod at each other as we pass, happy to be enjoying spring around the lake.