Morning at the Best Western in Lompoc, and time to figure out what to do about my rear tire that had stranded me here.

The one bike shop in Lompoc that seemed like it may have what I’d need was by appointment only on Sundays, so no luck in town. I would either need Steve to bring something down from the San Luis Obispo area, or get something from one of the many bike shops in Goleta or Santa Barbara further down the road.

My rear tire held its air overnight, so the second patch job I did was working at least. I wasn’t sure how it would do with the weight on it, but maybe it would hold the 40 or so miles until I could get to a bike shop. If I ran into problems, Steve could swing by and save the day, but it was possible I could make it on my own. I decided to give it a go. I had to leave soon if I was to complete the mileage I needed today.

I mounted the rear tire back on the bike and headed over to the cafe for my breakfast. At about 10:30am I was ready to go, had the bike loaded up and was just pushing it out the hotel door when I discovered my front tire was flat.

Double Shit.

Not sure what was causing this new flat (could it have been hit by whatever cut my rear tire?), and getting the message loud and clear that my bike wasn’t going to make it out of here unless I carried it, I called Steve to get Plan B going. While he got ready to head down, I was calling bike shops in SLO and Atascadero to find a suitable tire. Unfortunately, nothing was open until noon because it was Sunday. Even if Steve could pick up the right tire where he was at, it wouldn’t be in my hands till 1pm at the earliest… it’s looking like I’m not going to be on the road until 2pm. My planned route for today was over 90 miles, and when you add the 15 or so miles I wasn’t able to complete the day before, we had moved beyond the realm of possibility for me being able to pull this off on the bike.

For lack of anything better to do, I checked out the front tire and patched the leak (a small but tough wooden splinter, nothing major) while I waited for Steve to arrive. It was agonizing, trapped in the hotel room with with my lame bike as time I couldn’t afford to lose continued to slip away.

Steve arrived at about 12:30pm. We loaded up the bike and were off to Santa Barbara. We drove the route I would have been riding and went over the last real hill of the trip I had to conquer. You’d think it was custom made for cycling with an easy slope to climb and a very steep, speedy descent. The rest was all flatland I didn’t care to miss.

As we made it into Santa Barbara traffic was very heavy on the freeway. Steve found out later that it was due to a plane that had made an emergency landing on the freeway. Had I not had the tire problem, I would have been riding on that section of road around that time… dodging a plane on my bike would have made for some kickass helmet cam footage. Oh well, maybe next time.

We exited and took State Street down to Velo Pro, a shop that had an appropriate replacement tire… the going was real slow here as well. After hitting every stoplight and lurching along at a crawl, I was so annoyed with the stop-n-go traffic I popped my bike off the rack in the middle of the street and rode it the rest of the way to the store.

The bike shop had the tire replaced and fresh tubes in both in less than 10 minutes. Hulk bike is road ready again.

Steve and I headed across the street to grab some burgers and shakes; both of us were starving at this point. Lunch consumed, we headed back to the car. I reloaded the panniers, got the sunscreen going, and clipped in the pedals to finally begin the day’s ride at about 3:30pm. I had maybe 60 miles to go to Leo Carrillo State Park on the outskirts of Malibu, and needed to make good time if I was to get there before dark. Steve wished me luck and told me he’d be in town for a bit in case more trouble cropped up, but that I was screwed after that. :)

I headed down State, took a left when I ran out of road, and started heading south. I had gone maybe a mile when I met up with an older rider on the bike path. We started to chat and I ended up riding with him for the next 45 miles until I was south of Oxnard.

cruising past the jammed-up cars down the Ventura Highway

It was a great ride; didn’t have to worry about where I was going with the other rider showing me the way. He took me on some alternate routes to cruise by the beaches, a much better ride than what I would have been doing. We rode at a steady but assertive pace, which was probably best for me at the time (despite my desire to get to camp as soon as possible, I still needed to pace myself). The weather was beautiful throughout the day.

Great conversation and a great ride with the cyclist; never did catch his name though. It’s funny, cyclists – you can be riding along and there’s this natural camaraderie… it didn’t really matter that I didn’t know the guy.

passed by literally thousands of boats on the ride today

He reached his turnoff and I continued on my way, and shortly thereafter got off the route as it diverted away from the 1. I was headed in the right general direction though and wasn’t too worried about it. I stopped at a KFC (they should sponsor my ride since I’ve eaten there the most on the trip :) and wolfed down a mashed potato bowl. It was maybe 6pm when I headed out… pushing it for time.

I figured out the way with the help of my phone and GPS, and in short order was back on track. I made it onto Navalair Road and passed an Air Force facility and some Navy thing with a missile display by the side of the road. The sun was on its way down as I made it back onto the highway, people pulling over to admire the sunset.

getting dark, still moving…

I was on the highway in the dark for maybe 10 miles or so, which went well with my lights and a decent shoulder. Made it to camp and tracked down the hiker/biker area, which was nicely positioned away from the other campsites and the sometimes noisy RV people. Two perfectly spaced trees awaited me in an empty spot and I set up my hammock in record time with the help of my headlamp. I snacked a bit while I chatted up the other two riders who were out that evening, and hit the sack not much later.

Back on track after starting the day on the brink of failure, here I am camping in Los Angeles County, now on the brink of the biggest metropolis of my trip. The ride that awaits me tomorrow could be the most challenging, from the sounds of the cycling book at least. Better rest up and savor the last night in my hammock for this journey… it’ll be hotels and beds from this point on.

Most Exciting Moment
As I was approaching the turn to the Air Force facility, I saw a grove of lemon trees to the right, most of the fruit halfway ripe. Maybe it’s growing up in a place where it was too cold for such trees to grow, but I enjoyed seeing lemons on trees and not in a bin at the supermarket.

Roadkill Report

• small bird
• gopher
• possum
• raccoon
• blackbird
• rat
• one blue and one grey glove

It’s Saturday morning and time to get back on the road after my rest day in Atascadero. Five days of riding left, and today’s is the last one with any real hills in it. Emily gives the Hulk bike and me a lift back to the gas station I rode to the day before yesterday, and I’m off to work my way around Vandenberg Air Force Base on my way to Gaviota State Beach.

a neighbor

The ride out of town went fine; I missed a couple of turns (which is pretty much par for the course) but no big deal in terms of backtracking. The weather was perfect, overcast to keep the sun off but warm enough that I didn’t need my jacket. (After the sunny day yesterday I had recharged my internal solar battery and was fine again with the clouds.)

I rolled on past Pismo Beach and was treated to an assortment of smells. The aroma of several roadside restaurants worked up my appetite, including a couple of barbeque joints… oh man. The temptation was almost too much to resist, but then I was hit with the wet dog smell from Pismo Beach itself and had no problems keeping the tires turning.

I stopped in Guadalupe for a nice lunch at an old Mexican place. A couple of other touring cyclists stopped in who were on their way to Lompoc. They were from somewhere international but I couldn’t place it.

over a thousand miles away from home, even by car… I’m getting close

I rolled on through more farmland. The sky now seemed to be indecisive over whether it was going to rain or not. A few drops would fall here and there, not enough to really get me wet but raindrops nonetheless (not sprinkle-sized). I adjusted my torn compression bag around my sleeping bag as best I could and tucked in the Shamwow around the exposed end to keep it dry.

At 2:30pm I reached a fork in the road: either follow the sign to Lompoc, which was on the route; or, stay on 135 like I think the map is telling me to go. The road going to Lompoc is up a steep hill, which isn’t listed on the elevation profile… I go with the 135. A spray-painted message from the 3 Amigos confirms I picked the right direction. Did not want to get caught in the wrong place if it does start pouring down.

you can find these road markers all along the Pacific Coast Bike Route from several different years

A little ways later I hit the Harris Grade Road and my legs just didn’t want to go anymore. The grade wasn’t very steep, but my legs just didn’t have the oomph. I think was still adjusting to being back on the road after the day off. I trudged on, making frequent stops and marveling at the sheer amount of trash strewn about this road, more roadside dumping than I’d seen the entire trip. (I had to organize the Roadkill Report into sections there was so much stuff today.) Eventually I had made it over the hill and headed down towards Lompoc increasing my pace as the rain did the same.

I stopped in town at a donut shop and had a cup of coffee to pep me up with an apple fritter and a sugar coated donut for vitamins and minerals. I rode out a bit after 5pm. The sky had settled on not raining for today, which I was just fine with. Just as I pulled out into the street, my back wheel felt like it hit an uneven spot in the road and the bike went sideways for a second… a weird momentary loss of control, but it regrouped shortly thereafter. I looked back and saw my rear tire had lost at least half of its air in whatever just happened.

I pulled into a gas station lot and checked out the tire. I couldn’t see any punctures or other damage. I got out the pump and filled it up, and it seemed to be holding the air… strange. Could my tire somehow have twisted and air got out, but without a puncture to the tube? Didn’t make sense logically, but there it was holding its air. I asked the gas station attendant about bike shops in town and he said they were all closed at that point. If it was a flat I’d be dealing with it on my own anyway, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ride on. I had about 15 miles left until Gaviota State Beach and wanted to get there and over that last hill before dark.

I rode out of Lompoc and was back on the 1, heading for the hill. I never made it. About 2 miles in my rear tire was flat again. I popped the tire off and had a look… wouldn’t you know it, there was a thorn that had made a bullseye into the hole where my tire had been hit by a staple in Coos Bay. A small puncture, but I decided to go with a fresh tube anyway. I cut a section of the old tube and wrapped it around that spot on the new tube in case lightning struck twice, filled up the tire, and mounted the wheel back on the bike.

wrestling with the flat on the side of the highway

I made it maybe half a mile or so until my rear tire started hissing loudly. Arrgh! Now what?

I got the tire off again and that’s when I saw that my tire had actually been cut, and the cut went all the way through the Kevlar bead in the tire. The raw inner edge of this cut had slashed the new tube I just put in – the tire itself caused the flat.

Shit.

Remember how just the day before I was in a bike shop saying I wouldn’t need a spare tire? Yeah, uh huh.

This wasn’t working out. I weighed my options and decided pretty quick I needed to double back to Lompoc; it didn’t look like I was making it to Gaviota tonight. Already I had lost a decent amount of time changing the tube once… I needed to get off the road before it got too late. Unable to ride it, I tried filling the tire so I could push the bike along as I walked but it wouldn’t hold any air long enough even for that. I was stuck there.

As luck would have it, I just happened to have the break down right next to a call box on the side of the road. I gave it a ring, told the operator of my problem, and he said “sorry, we only handle automobile emergencies.” So much for that.

I tried thumbing a ride with a truck but no one would stop. Not sure if it’s a sign of the times or a sign of me not shaving for three weeks, but either way I was screwed. I figured my best bet was to try and patch up the tire as best I could so I could make it the few miles back to Lompoc, find a place to stay, and deal with it in the morning. I pulled the wheel off again, patched the tube, wrapped the cut section with another segment from the old tube, and reassembled it. It seemed to be holding but I didn’t get a chance to test it out as a truck pulled up to see if I needed a hand. It was a couple who lived in Lompoc. We loaded up the bike in the back and they gave me a lift to the Best Western back in town.

I walked into the lobby and asked the clerk if they had any rooms… only ones with one bed, she said. Fine by me, I usually sleep in just one anyway. They cut me a deal for $99 for the night and I started to fill out the paperwork. I noticed a big list of movies on the counter; turns out they have DVDs to rent for free. Not bad. Oh, and by the way, the rooms have big screen TVs and 500+ channels… oh really? And breakfast is free too… the made-to-order kind, not some “continental breakfast” muffin they call a meal joke. You don’t say? I asked if they had a washer and dryer; that’s free too, do you need some soap? I had apparently stumbled upon the Super Motel.

When I entered my room I laughed; the TV looked like it might be even bigger than the 56” I have at home. Holy crap, is that a Comcast digital box?!? HBO On Demand!!! True Blood!!! I hadn’t seen the past 6 episodes – I know what I’m doing tonight! I headed next door to pick up a burger for dinner and let myself relax as I watched the episodes I’d missed… the tire’s not going anywhere until morning.

I had made it most of the way to where I was going, but had a 90+ mile day scheduled for tomorrow already, and with the extra 15 or so miles I would need to roll out as soon as possible. Hopefully I could get the tire taken dealt with early… I’m quickly running out of time.

Most Exciting Moment
Besides catching up on True Blood? Hitchhiking. First time I tried. Also a frustrating experience as my thumb did nothing for me. Maybe I needed to show more leg or something. (Or not covered in road grime and chain grease from wrestling with my bike on the side of the road for over 2 hours.)

Roadkill Report

• Creatures
  • 2 raccoons
  • white bird
  • bluebird
  • 3 rats
  • 3 small birds
  • mouse
  • possum
  • 2 gophers
  • small coyote
• Gloves
  • garden glove
  • blue industrial glove
  • blue latex glove
  • small blue garden glove
  • green latex glove
  • black work glove
  • 2 latex gloves
  • grey padded glove
• Household
  • TV/VCR combo
  • refrigerator
  • bed frame
• Miscellaneous
  • broken pallet
  • the gas cap to a car
  • my rear tire

My original route plan didn’t have a rest day in it, not that I didn’t think I could use one (or three), but I had a tight schedule, plus I didn’t know how far I’d be able to go in a day or even how far I had to go in total. After making through the first two weeks and having more exact information about the rest of the route, I calculated I could squeeze in a day off with the Evans clan in Atascadero and still make it in time. I rode pretty well the past couple of days through Big Sur, but I knew I wasn’t 100% and some down time would hopefully do me some good.

Steve made a nice breakfast of cheesy eggs and about 10 pounds of bacon… my kind of breakfast. I spent most of the morning making some much needed improvements to the hack of a blog template I’ve had on my site since February. I had updated my blog software at the time and just threw something together in a few minutes, and hadn’t gotten around to cleaning it up. Someone had noted that I didn’t even have a way to get to older posts after they moved off the front page… whoops. Got that fixed.

We headed out later to swing by the bike shop and to pick up some tacos. I remember looking at the tires and both of us remarking how I didn’t need something like that, seeing as how I only had five days left and hadn’t had any tire problems so far. [insert ominous music here] I picked up some Shot Blox and Clif Bar crap for the next few days and we headed off to the taco stand. I wilted in the sun and Steve laughed at my low tolerance for hellish heat.

Later in the day Steve and Emily headed off to a meet-the-teacher thing as school starts here next week (something I don’t have to worry about for Zach until next year) and I took a nap. Afterwards we all headed down to SLO and hung out at the pier (I guess that’s what it was anyway), which had a farmers market thing going on. Beautiful weather. I had a couple of crepes and we chilled out with Emily’s brother and his girlfriend.

the only picture taken during the day, courtesy of Mr. Evans

We then headed off to watch Inglourious Basterds, which was in its opening weekend. I was dying to see it. The movie was great, made even more entertaining by Steve hiding his eyes in the gory parts. I laughed at his low tolerance for brutal violence, and it was good. I picked out a ridiculous amount of movie snacks, including the nachos that Steve had been talking about all day and actually didn’t want for himself. The chips tasted like cardboard, the cheese like paste. I only ate most of them.

Afterwards we hit some local sports bar for some post-movie grub. I had an excellent basque dog; still not sure what was “basque” about it, but I didn’t care, it was tasty.

All in all it was a nice, relaxing day with friends… couldn’t ask for anything more. Tomorrow it’s off to ride around Vandenberg Air Force Base and another night of camping at Gaviota State Beach… five days left!

Morning and I’m snacking on the Ohio people’s almonds for breakfast. I had half a bagel (dropped the other half on the ground, whoops) and skipped the oatmeal… along with the lack of shower I was out of camp by 9:15am. (The camp also had signs all over the place saying the faucet water was not potable, though everyone including the campground host was saying it was fine to drink… I think I’ll pass on that one.) The two big climbs of the day were within the first 20 miles of riding today; I just had to get through that and it would be smooth sailing all the way to wherever I was going.

That was the thing though… I wasn’t sure when I left where I would be heading to. I’d planned previously to stop in Morro Bay for Steve to pick me up and give me a lift to his place in Atascadero. I’d be dropped off later in San Luis Obispo. As I rode though I thought about it and realized I would end up regretting not riding those 12 miles or whatever it was between Morro Bay and SLO. It would make for a long day, but if my legs were up for it, I was going to push for SLO.

But back to the morning. I was riding smooth over the initial hills and was at the first steep climb in pretty short order, about 900 feet of elevation gain. The second was maybe 600 feet but was right after the first. I kept my pace under control and made my progress up the hills, and was through the tough part of the day in under 2 hours.

turkey vultures chilling out on a cliff

Just as I was making it over the crest of the second hill and beginning my descent downward, I noticed the Ohio people pulled over on the side of the road. The guy pumped his fists in the air and shouted out “YOU CAN DO IT!!! I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!” I was laughing all the way down… until I was passed by a couple of sportscars I didn’t recognize initially as they were covered up in protective sheets. They were exploiting the curves of the road, zooming along aggressively… not just two, but another, and another… there were at least seven of them that zoomed by, all Vipers. They were numbered on the backs; I assumed it was some sort of dealer transfer or bulk purchase or something. Must be fun delivering them though.

I stopped in Ragged Point for lunch, a bleu burger and an It’s It bar for dessert (Ryan from the Seattle Three had mentioned it, and I was able to snag one as I was moving out of the Bay area’s sphere of influence). Some time to digest and I was on my way again.

The road was mostly flat or rolling hills from this point forward and I was cruising. I reached the Piedras Blancas Lighthouse just as my odometer hit the 1000 mile mark. I stopped for a brief celebration, which consisted of some picture taking and stuffing my mouth full of Sugar Babies.

hooray for big round numbers!

I stopped for a break in Cayucus. They had a candy store; I ate gelato, an almond turtle, a white chocolate truffle, and a box of chewy Lemonhead and Friends. Yes, I do love this metabolism I’ve worked up. Onward to San Luis Obispo.

are these sea lions or seals? they are bigger than what I’d seen before.

I made it to SLO at 5pm on the dot and rendezvoused with Mr. Evans, who was shocked at the weight of my bike as he mounted it on the car rack (and that was after I took off the bags). We headed to Atascadero where he treated me to a salmon dinner, which was made more exciting by the liberal usage of flames throughout the preparation process.

We closed out the evening with a soak in the hot tub under the stars. Tomorrow I’d be taking the day off, my first of the trip… some time for those legs to rest before the final five days through southern California and into San Diego.

Most Exciting Moment
Outside of San Luis Obispo there was a bicycle sign that said “WATCH FOR SHOULDER CRACKS”. I thought to myself “gee, isn’t that nice they have signage like that for bikes” while the persnickety part of my brain simultaneously thought “my shoulders are perfectly fine!” and then the instinct part of my brain went WAAAAAH! as I was suddenly barreling down a hill at 37mph, dodging cracks in the pavement to and fro. The car traffic was up to 65mph at this point, and also had filled-in lines between the concrete they were driving on, so the cars made the thump-thump-thump sound like they do when they are driving over the shoulder divots to run you over. In short, I was flying down a hill filled with cracks while cars were zooming by sounding like they were about to kill me each time they passed. Whee!

Roadkill Report

• a snake
• a deer (this time the front portion)
• a mouse
• a pair of aviator sunglasses with one lens missing
• a piñata, viciously beaten
• a gopher
• a creature resembling a ferret, but most likely a rat or gopher
• a large dragonfly or small hummingbird

Week Three begins, and I’m well rested from my long nap and sleep last night. Today is the big day through Big Sur and a lot of hills, and I’m hoping my ride goes better than the day before.

A light drizzle began to form as I loaded my bike. I wrapped my sleeping bag in plastic grocery bag before covering it with the tatters of my compression sack in an attempt to keep it dry through the ride. The rain was light but just the right amount to collect on my riding glasses and not run off, so I rode without them. (I normally always have them on to keep my contacts from drying out and to keep things from flying into my eyes.)

I headed into Carmel and stopped at Katy’s Place for an excellent breakfast of corned beef hash (finally!) while I charged up my devices. My phone, netbook, and GPS were all on their last legs and I knew there wouldn’t be anywhere to charge them for quite some time.

It was nice to be back in Carmel. I had helped a friend move to Carmel about 12 years ago and took my time going through town to see the place again. I had planned to check out Cannery Row the day before in Monterey but was too bushwhacked to do anything, so this morning helped make up for it.

After my breakfast I stopped at a coffee shop, got a couple blog posts up, and hit the Safeway nearby to stock up on food. The information I had showed basically nothing between here and Kirk Creek Campground where I’d be staying for the night, so I loaded up for the rest of the day.

Traffic was heavy as I headed up to the Carmel Highlands, but lightened up a bit after that. Little to no shoulder to speak of throughout today’s route, but I have to hand it to the drivers – overwhelmingly people have been very good about making room for me. (I find swerving every once in a while helps too. :)

yeah, okay.

The elevation profile for today’s route showed a variety of smaller hills for the first 30 miles, followed by the two big climbs in the second 30. I was more focused on the bigger climbs in the second half, but it turned out the first leg was the one that was tougher today. A constant headwind regardless of my direction made the inclines much more challenging. I rode at a laborious pace and made frequent stops trying to time my efforts with lulls in the wind.

the hills of Big Sur and the Bixby Bridge, which the Hulk bike really liked for some reason

At the halfway point I was planning on stopping at a state park to eat my lunch, but came across a tourist trap shortly before with a restaurant, gift shop, etc and outdoor seating. I ate my Safeway sandwich-in-a-box and crab salad that I had unnecessarily carried all morning thinking there wouldn’t be anywhere to eat here… grumble grumble. I tried to look at the bright side (hey, I was lightening my load) and then someone would walk by with a couple of hot dogs… cruel.

It seemed like everyone here was speaking a foreign language. French, Italian, Spanish, Russian possibly, and one I didn’t recognize. Lots of nice cars on the route here as you’d expect; every other car was either a Porsche, Mercedes, Jaguar, or some other expensive brand of penile augmentation. Hulk bike cares not for such things.

After lunch I headed off for the second half of the day’s riding. I took my time making it up the first hill, stopping about midway to make my regular “yes, I’m still alive” family phone call. Once the first hill was beaten, I continued and was feeling better as the day wore on. The clouds came back just as I crested the hill and didn’t let up for the rest of the day, but I didn’t care. As I started down the first hill I let out a banshee cry and felt the adrenaline surging; I was riding strong again.

Time and more hills passed, and before I knew it I was looking at the sign for Lucia, the town at the end of the second hill. I had passed the second big climb without really even noticing it. Is this all you can muster, Big Sur?

I saw a restaurant and decided to forego my camp dinner for a little celebratory meal tonight. I dined on garlic stuffed filet mignon and the best artichoke I’ve ever had, an appetizer marinated in balsamic vinegar with some slightly mustard-ish dipping sauce. Phenomenal.

After my excellent dinner I finished off what was left of the hill and rolled into Kirk Creek campground. This was the first and only national park campsite I’d be staying at. Nice location right by the water, good hiker/biker area, but no showers.

That evening I chatted up the various campers in the hiker/biker section. Two guys on a four-day jaunt around the local hills; a couple with a baby on the way who need a place to crash and had their car stashed on the highway; another couple from Ohio who also parked out of sight and were roughing it tonight. I ended up talking with the Ohio folk the most. The guy just got back from Iraq doing convoy escort, and the girl flew out to visit. They were generous with their chocolate and other snacks (I was generous with my appetite) as I told them of my trip and explained why I was doing it, which I discovered is not the easiest question to answer.

As it got late I headed off to nestle into my hammock. I went to sleep listening to the surf crashing on the beach, the wind rustling in the trees around me… I will miss this.

Most Exciting Moment
The artichoke appetizer. Still thinking about it. (The baked potato was very good as well.)

Roadkill Report

• two skunks
• a hummingbird
• a deer (though I can’t rule out it being an antelope or centaur as only its hindquarters was remaining)
• a snake

By the numbers:

I did less miles and spent ten hours less time in the saddle during week 2. This was mainly due to the route: the spacing of stops for the night, and terrain being more challenging.

After two weeks I have spent three days worth of time on my bike. Good thing I have a comfortable saddle.

I have about 435 miles remaining until I get to San Diego. My remaining schedule is as follows:

• Wednesday, 8/19: Monterey to Kirk Creek Campground (60 miles)
  • passing through Big Sur
  • the most demanding day left terrain-wise; lots of hills, a couple big climbs, and windy roads with little or no shoulder
• Thursday: to Morro Bay (65 miles)
  • Two big hills within the first 20 miles, then relatively flat
  • staying with Steve and Emily Evans in Atascadero
• Friday: day off maybe?
• Saturday: San Luis Obispo to Gaviota State Park (85 miles)
• riding around Vandenburg Air Force Base and over the last of the hills
• Sunday: to Leo Carrillo State Beach (92 miles)
  • Blasting through Santa Barbara and a lot of flat miles
• Monday: Escape from LA (78 miles)
  • Think urban. Think apocalypse. Think fuel tank slingshot.
  • Not exactly sure where I’m staying; might do a hostel again, or cash in some of my Starwood points
• Tuesday: to Carlsbad (50 miles)
  • staying at my aunt’s house
  • reunited with my shaver, normal clothing, and deodorant
• Wednesday, 8/26: to the Hard Rock Hotel in downtown San Diego (40 miles)
  • Riding in the morning… back to work after lunch!

I may or may not take a day off, instead splitting up that Sunday day into two days as listed in the cycling book… depends on how today and tomorrow goes.

Thanks for all your words of support and encouragement everyone – it really helps knowing you have friends near and far who are rooting for you. One week to go, let’s get to it!

Today sucked. For being one of the easiest days on the route, I had my worst day riding… just couldn’t get into it today for some reason. Maybe it was not getting mentally prepared enough because it was such an easy ride, maybe it was the dreary weather, maybe the monotonous scenery, too much food, I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just worn out. But, I did make it to my destination for the day, one day closer to the goal.

kitty, this is not helping get my blog posts done.

Things started taking a turn for the worse after I headed out of Jas’s house. I stopped at McDonald’s for my weekly dose of fast food; the calling of the sausage & egg McMuffin was too much to resist this morning. I tried fishing for WiFi there but to no avail. The fog above seemed to want to pretend it was rain; you’d get the faintest feeling of rain drops every so often, but it wasn’t actually raining. I stopped under an awning at a hotel to try again at snagging some WiFi, but again no luck. I decided to roll on and try in Monterey, and headed up the road to the onramp to 1. A ragged-looking touring cyclist (or a homeless person, it can be hard to tell the difference sometimes) pointed out that bicycles were prohibited on this section of 1 as it is designated as a freeway through town. I had to turn around and fish my way through town and on to Watsonville before I could get on the highway.

I decided to stop one more time to get my bearings, and the third time was a charm – I found an open access point and was able to get online. Blog updated, I headed towards Soquel Avenue and my way out of town.

I meandered along, comparing my progress to the picture of the map I had in my camera from the cycling book. I was convinced I had gone too far and missed the Freedom Ave. turnoff. (Turns out the map from the book is not to scale and I still had a few miles to go.) I came to another exit for 1 and decided to take it this time, despite the warnings of no bikes allowed. I didn’t know where else to go.

do what? you can get MOTORS on these things?!? I’ve been pedaling this whole goddamn time and I could have had a motor?!?

As I rode [BREAKIN’ THE LAW BREAKIN’ THE LAW] I kept on getting visions of being stopped by a police officer on the side of the freeway, having my bike impounded, being thrown into jail, waterboarding, death by lethal injection, etc. Sure enough, I heard the PA of a highway patrolman behind me telling me to stop the bike. Here we go.

The patrolman was actually quite nice about it, letting me know that Freedom Ave was actually up at the next exit, and he gave me some tips to get through the rest of town and where I was supposed to be. Escaping with my life and a fist bump from the officer, I rode on to the off-ramp and resumed life as a law-abiding citizen.

Even with the directions it was still fairly confusing getting out of town; the signage for the Pacific Coast route was not great here (as I’ve found in more than a few cases in California).

It was strawberry fields forever as I rode through farms in all directions, mostly strawberries, lettuce, and artichokes. (I wasn’t sure about the artichoke plants at first since I hadn’t seen them before; was wondering if they were ferns or medical marijuana or something until I saw the artichokes budding off the plants.) Literally miles of strawberries! I was jonesing for them I ended up getting my bag of cherries I’d bought yesterday and hanging them off my handlebars, eating the entire bag as I rode along. The bag fell at one point and I was eating them off the road, I didn’t care… FRESH FRUIT!!! Had I not eaten the cherries I may not have been able to resist the temptation to dive into a nearby strawberry patch and graze all day.

there were dozens of people in each patch harvesting strawberries. thought about chipping in and being paid in berries, but needed to save my back for the road.

After the excitement of all those berries wore off, the scenery was monotonous.

look honey, a viewpoint to the left! let’s get a better look at that industrial plant.

This was probably the most boring day of riding, scenery-wise, which was multiplied by the dreary weather. I stopped in Moss Landing for lunch of scallops & chips and was generally just putzing along for the day.

sea lions claiming the harbor for their own

More riding, more blah weather, more blah scenery. Approaching Marina there was a nice bike path that went for a few miles, but I just couldn’t get the motor running. Gophers had infested the path and were running to and fro. Massive holes they had burrowed under fences, everywhere along the route. Funny little creatures… hadn’t seen any of them really since my days in Montana.

Eventually I made it into Monterey and the weather briefly turned almost kinda sunny for about half an hour until it was back to being dreary again. I rode towards camp (which was up a hill, naturally) and set up my hammock. I was on forced awake mode just long enough to eat some food and get camp set up. By 5:30pm I was fast asleep.

I woke up around 10pm, took a shower, and watched the rambunctious raccoons tear through ignorant campers’ food. The raccoons here were the boldest I’d seen… I would not have been surprised to see one smoking a cigarette.

I stayed up for a bit longer working on my netbook, but was fast asleep again. Maybe I was just tired, I don’t know. The past couple nights I’d been sleeping indoors and had been getting to bed later… maybe it just caught up with me. Or maybe it was just an off day for me. If that’s the case, I’m glad it happened today and not on a day like tomorrow, when I have to tackle the hills of Big Sur.

Most Exciting Moment
Sleeping.

Roadkill Report

• three plums, each with one bite out of them
• a blue glove
• three gophers
• a raven
• a couple small birds
• a rat

Monday morning, and it’s time to ride to Santa Cruz. I had my standard oatmeal and bagel breakfast, loaded up the bike, and headed out into the cool, overcast weather.

I passed an older rider on the road. I saw a Bike Route sign that said “Highway 1 Trail” beneath it… yeah okay, I’ll give this one more chance. If I can get to where I’m going with less traffic zooming by, that’s fine by me. Naturally it led me to the water and a dirt road dead-end. [sigh] Time to backtrack.

some bike route. I want my money back.

Not long after I’d made it back onto Highway 1 I saw an English pub… ooh, too tempting. It was 11:30am, close enough to lunch, so I figured what the hell. It’s not like I’m making great progress anyway. Well I went in and they apparently weren’t quite ready to roll yet as no one came around to seat me. Then I saw the old rider who had pulled up – it was that motormouth guy from the hostel last night! I immediately walked right back out the door and scrammed for fear of being trapped in a non-stop, one-way diatribe.

As I rode on, I passed by six or seven fire trucks heading north. Jas had mentioned a fire on the phone yesterday, which hadn’t occurred to me until now – hopefully I won’t run into any road closures or plumes of smoke. Fortunately the fire had been contained and I didn’t have to deal with any of it on my ride today.

The weather continued to be dreary and overcast until about 1pm, when the first evidence that we still orbited the sun came into view. I was able to take my jacket off 15 minutes later as I passed Pigeon Point Lighthouse, the other lighthouse hostel on the coast. Would be nice to stay there sometime… maybe next time.

Pigeon Point Lighthouse

I was making great time so I kept riding. I stopped maybe an hour later at a nature preserve and ate miscellaneous food from my bag as I sat on the ground. Another caravan of fire trucks heading north, five this time, passed by. I gave myself a bit of time to digest and was on my way again. I passed by numerous berry farms as I booked down the highway.

I know some people back home that would love to be a ranch hand here

I made phenomenal time today – a 15mph average over 4 hours on the bike! A nice tailwind helped, and the terrain was relatively tame. At one point I was sustaining 27mph on a flat stretch of road without the help of a downhill – greased lightning, baby. Before I knew it I was on the bike lane leading into town.

I rolled into Santa Cruz and headed to the bank for some financial errands. On my way I was passed by a middle-aged dude on a bike. He was headed the same direction as me for a while, and was in front of the black SUV that was behind me. The SUV honked at the biker for some reason, causing the biker to turn around and flip the driver off. It was funny the first time, but then he did it again, and again… he flipped the bird at least four times at this guy while he rode his bike in front of him. He then turned down some side street when the light turned red. All of a sudden, this 20-something guy on a roid rage barges out of the driver’s seat of his car (a different car, mind you) and sprints at the biker, looking to beat his ass to a pulp. This guy wasn’t even involved with the original altercation as far as I could tell. Mental note: keep my birds to myself.

After visiting the bank I looked for a place to park for the afternoon. I rode around for a bit and came across a sign that mentioned indoor bike parking. It was for a place that specialized in acai and yerba mate concoctions. I had a large bowl of granola smothered in açaí berry juice, topped with strawberries, bananas, and shaved coconut. It did not last long.

my açaí bowl of fruit and granola goodness (note the swank indoor bike parking in the background; no segregation for Hulk bike today)

When the place closed I headed over to Jas’s house and met his wife, who was already there. We grouped up with the neighbors who treated us to some excellent Thai food from a place down the street. I then took the opportunity to get a bath going and soak in the tub for a while. I can’t remember the last time I’d even had a bath… it did me a lot of good. (The bottoms of my feet are actually flesh-colored again, not dark from dirt and the road.) We closed out the night watching The Waterboy with their nephew, which was great… I hadn’t had a good dose of Adam Sandler in a while. My hammock is comfy but it is nice to have a roof over your head once in a while… thanks again, Sandhu clan. (Wish you could be here Jas!)

Most Exciting Moment
About a mile before entering Santa Cruz County, I had looked off to the left, checking out what was growing at a berry farm on the other side of the highway. I looked up and saw I was about one second away from being clotheslined off my bike by a wayward tree branch. It was a barren, neck-level, and hungry.

I was going 20mph and had no time to avoid it. Instinctively I braced myself and jutted my right arm out to stiff-arm it. I managed to break it in half, making it through with just a light smack on the elbow. I’m still not sure how I didn’t get hit in the face. That was a moment I wish I had a motorcycle film crew like the Tour de France riders have… I am sure I looked really badass for a second there as I blasted that tree.

Roadkill Report

• one of those birds with the blue sides, unsure of the name
• a pane of glass (pretty sure it was glass, despite being unbroken on the side of the road)
• a creature that was squashed in the car lane that I couldn’t identify. It most closely resembled those “turd birds” they’d sell in gift shops back in Montana. talk about adding insult to injury… not only are you dead, but you look like poop.
• a steak knife without its handle
• an owner’s manual to a LCD television

Up bright and early to tackle the big day. I made breakfast, broke down camp, and did everything I could think of before I had to put on my bike shorts. I only had one pair of clean shorts left, and it was the pair I had washed in the shower the previous evening. (Sometimes you have to make the most of what hot water you have.) They hadn’t completely dried after hanging out overnight. Putting on cold, wet, skin-tight shorts on a cold morning like today… yikes. I bit the bullet and got dressed, and actually it wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. They warmed up pretty quick and they wick well so they weren’t wet long.

The other aggravating thing was the compression sack for my sleeping bag, which had ripped at a seam on the third day of my trip, had deteriorated to the point that I couldn’t use it anymore. It was more for keeping my sleeping bag dry than compact; hopefully I won’t see rain until at least I can hit a REI and get it exchanged.

On the road a few minutes to 9am, I rolled towards Fairfax and the other little towns that dot the road leading south to San Francisco. I laughed to myself as I thought about how I’d made it this far without being pasted by a semi, falling off a cliff, or blowing myself up with my camp stove. I’m halfway through on my bike and about to ride through San Francisco.

One of the first towns I hit (pretty sure it was in Fairfax) was having a classic car show and the street was blocked off, so I had to walk my bike for about eight blocks as I checked out all the cool old cars.

they even had a section of vintage bikes on display… cool

Lots of cyclists out and about on the bike path I was riding on. I met one lady who was riding at a similar pace; I asked her about getting to the bridge and she offered to ride with me and show me the way. We headed on to Sausalito where we stopped at her friend’s house to pick up a few more cyclists who were also heading into town. The five of us headed together towards the Golden Gate Bridge.

I rode up the hill to the start of the bridge, and started my ride across.

At exactly halfway across the bridge, something unexpected happened (that I kind of did expect) – I met up with the Seattle riders again just as they were celebrating their arrival into San Francisco! I had gotten up early, they got rolling late, and we just happened to meet up on the bridge at exactly the same time. They had popped open a bottle of champagne, and I decided in the serendipity of the moment it would be alright to relax my no drinking rule for a swig to celebrate with them.

We crossed the rest of the bridge, took some pictures, and I headed with them to some art museum thing down by the water on the east side of the bridge. I hung around with them for a while, but was feel antsy and needed to get going. I hadn’t eaten lunch and I was only halfway through my miles for the day. Despite wanting to hang out with my new friends as they celebrated, it was time to move on. I was glad to see them one more time for the end of their trip though.

I rode back up to the bridge and proceeded down Lincoln on the west side towards Golden Gate Park. I rode through some residential areas and over some hills until I popped out next to the water, which I followed to Skyline/Highway 35.

what would I do without drifting sand forcing me into traffic? Survive more easily, I suppose.

The weather all day had been back and forth between warm and sunny or cold and foggy. I had to put on my jacket mid-bridge crossing; ended up taking it off less than half an hour later. Once I’d reached the beach though it had settled on cold and foggy and stayed that way the rest of the day. At least I had a little sun for the bridge.

I stopped in Daly City about a quarter to 4pm, reassured that I was headed out of town in the right direction. Surreal wisps of fog passed through town as the weather looked uglier by the hour. I still can’t get over how it can be mid-August and the weather here can be worse than everything I’d seen north of here. Mark Twain’s quote about his summer in the Bay was on my mind. I grabbed some food at another one of those KFC/Taco Bell hybrids, taking a handful of KFC’s excellent buffalo sauce packets for future camp culinary use.

I was not looking forward to camping today. The slated destination, Half Moon Bay State Beach, doesn’t have hot water, and the showers are outdoors. The prospect of a cold shower in the morning was not sitting well with me, especially considering the weather. There was also the issue of all of my clothes being dirty, and it would be nice to have some hot water to deal with that as well. I contemplated staying in a hotel, checked one out, but didn’t feel like spending what would amount to about $100 for the privilege.

As I rolled up the street I saw a sign for a hostel, which turned out to be the Point Montara Lighthouse. I hadn’t stayed in a hostel before and had several moronic questions for the person at the front desk, but they were cheerfully tolerant of my ignorance. 28 bucks and I had a bunk in the Tool Room to sleep in, plus a washer and dryer, two kitchens to choose from, and last but not least, wireless Internet to satiate my computer needs. Oh yeah, and a hot shower.

I had entered this place apprehensively, but quickly discovered it was a great place with a lot of character. Had I known about it beforehand I would have made my plans to stay here in the first place.

Point Montara Lighthouse at sunset

I unloaded my bike and rode up to the local grocery store about a mile away to pick up some spaghetti and sauce, and a few other things – I’d be cooking a real meal tonight. I started a load of laundry and cooked up my pasta while I chatted with one of the guests at the hostel that evening, a man on a raw vegan diet who ate more fruit than I could fathom. (Eleven bananas for lunch, for example.) He gave me a few tomatoes to add to my sauce, which turned out quite well. I enjoyed my pasta as I took advantage of the Internet access.

I had briefly sat in the living room to join the conversation there, which consisted of an older gentlemen talking at length to some teenagers about everything he had found out online about a girl he dated in high school decades ago. I’d overheard the chat somehow involving Montana and buffalo, and had headed over to note something interesting I’d learned about the creatures, but was unable to inject myself into the conversation – the guy was an unstoppable motormouth. Back to my table in the kitchen.

Later in the evening a guy from Scotland checked in; he would end up being my only roommate for the night. He had been all over the US and would be visiting Portland soon. I wish I had more time to talk with him, but we both had our online chores to deal with; we both were up till about midnight working on email and blog posts.

Another day drew to a close as I settled into my top bunk. My average MPH was the lowest so far on the trip, which was to be expected with the city riding. But I made it through my first metropolis of the trip, and through three counties to boot (started in Marin, ridden through San Francisco, now in San Mateo). The next couple of days should be relatively light with stops in Santa Cruz and Monterey, and then it’s on to the big climbs of Big Sur.

Most Exciting Moment
The whole morning was exciting, leading up to the bridge, crossing it, and working my way through the city. By the time I had reached the beach I had calmed down a bit. The whole experience was a thrill.

Roadkill Report

• a possum
• two gloves, one of the gardening variety, the other a green rubber glove
• a furry rat thing that I had initially mistaken for a glove
• a long, tubular vacuum attachment

After 150+ miles the past two days, it was time for me to take it easy. Samuel Taylor State Park was about 40 miles away, and was just north of San Francisco, which seemed like an ideal stop for me today. This would be the closest thing I’d have to rest day on my trip (unless I bang out some insane miles later on, which I doubt I’ll be doing).

the hammock in a grove of eucalyptus at Bodega Dunes State Beach

Today I’d also be saying goodbye to my newfound friends from Seattle I’d been riding with the past few days. They were riding on to the Marin Headlands park, which was another 20+ miles and up a big hill that I really didn’t want to deal with if I didn’t have to. Great view of San Francisco and the bridge, but not worth it for me. We had breakfast at The Tides in Bodega Bay before parting ways; they hit the road as I stayed and worked on my blog posts. (Unfortunately the Internet connection was flaky and I still couldn’t post.)

I rolled out on my own and headed south on Shoreline Highway. I smelled more than one skunk along the way… this area apparently is infested with them. I was on a 13mph pace through the first hour as I saw a bunch of recreational cyclists tooling down the road. There must have been at least 50 of them! As I made it into Tomales I saw what was up – a supported ride. That explains all the Spandex I was seeing.

too many witnesses for me to steal commandeer Gatorade mix from their tent

These weekend riders are not like the other cyclists I’d been seeing on the roads during my trip. Without fail, a touring cyclist would wave at me as they rode by (and I waved to them)… the weekenders are too busy pretending they are Lance Armstrong for such gestures. Maybe that has something to do with the special pride I felt when I passed a few of them up and over a hill, me with me 100+ pounds of bike + gear, and them with their 15-pound carbon-fiber rocket bikes. (Don’t make Hulk bike angry… you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.)

As I moved past Tomales and into Marin County, I hit some intense headwinds, strong enough to make the port on my fuel bottle whistle at a standstill. Head down, keep the pedals turning.

I made it to Marshall and stopped at at local eatery on Tomales Bay for a pulled pork sandwich and some fantastic fish tacos. After enjoying the view by the water and some digestion time I was back on the road.

sitting by the bay (in front of someone else’s food for the picture spot)

More plodding along. As I rode today I could tell I was pretty beat, but I was also a bit bummed riding by myself after rolling with the Seattle riders the past few days. It was a good thing though – they were at the end of their journey, whereas I am at the midpoint of mine. A quick rub of my Stone Brewing bottle cap to remind me of the glory awaiting me in San Diego, I soldiered on.

I arrived at Point Reyes and found the Bovine Bakery I was told about, asked about the cookie with the big name, and walked away with a chocolate cherry almond cookie of my very own. Fantastic cookie.

Bovine Bakery and the bookstore in Point Reyes… nice little town

I was noticing that people were more into cycling today, not just with the weekend warriors, but with the people strolling along who would stop and check out my bike parked by the sidewalk. Later as I was riding to camp, someone stopped on the other side of the road pointed my bike out to his friends, exclaiming “Look! a Long Haul Trucker!” Nice to see more people into bikes.

Anyway, I parked it at the local bookstore in Point Reyes and took advantage of the first decent Internet connection I’ve seen in days. I rolled out at 6pm when the place closed with some groceries from the local market so I wouldn’t have to cook tonight.

After a hill I was heading down the road to the park. Apparently the entrance is a bit confusing for cyclists, as I rode by several cyclists going the opposite direction seeming to look for it (probably coming from the Bay area for the weekend). One asked me if we were in the park about a half-mile after I’d ridden by a sign saying I’d entered the park. I saw a small bridge leading across the river and headed over it, ending up in the park where some of the paper mill buildings are. After riding around a bit to get my bearings, I rode to the other side of the park where the camping and registration is, found the hiker/biker spot, and looked to get situated.

This park has a nice redwood grove, which I was surprised to see – I didn’t know I’d get to camp in the redwoods one more night on this trip. The park was nice and the hiker/biker area was awesome – there are rings of redwoods for each camp spot. Unfortunately I wasn’t seeing anything jumping out at me for a place to put my hammock. I mentioned as much to a couple who rode up from Berkeley, and they pointed out the hook protruding from the redwood directly behind me. Sure enough there was a hook resembling a bent railroad spike sticking straight out of the tree, perfect to hitch my hammock to. There was another redwood across from it that was so large you could stand in the middle of it… I wrapped it with my nylon cord and lashed the other end of my hammock to that. Score another one for the hammock.

one more time in the redwoods

Another day draws to a close. I’d reached the midpoint of my travels, and had over 700 miles behind me… the numbers are looking pretty good for me to make it to San Diego on time. Tonight I sleep content, eager for tomorrow’s crossing of the Golden Gate Bridge and finding my way through San Francisco.

Most Exciting Moment
Probably the anticipation of tomorrow’s crossing of the bridge. So close! No, it was the cookie.

Roadkill Report

• a glove