Too Full of Adventure to be Briefly Described
Another chapter of my trip, an adventure, and life come to a close.
Hey you!
Am I bugging you?
I hope not!
I have too much fun pulling on your ear and inbox when I think of you, and find time to write. I hope you enjoy it too. Good or bad, it is what it is, this may be the last edition for a bit. Feel free to find that cozy chair by the window, sit down on a park bench, or bookmark this for later. I’ll be here waiting. The California tale continues~
I’m sitting in an air-conditioned library in the sunny and pleasant city of Mountain View, Central California. It’s 83 degrees and there’s a clear, blue sky. I miss the sea breeze and sound of the ocean. However, I’m wearing a real pair of shorts, one of my own cotton t-shirts, and a hat that doesn’t have to rely on sweat and sunscreen for a personality.
I feel a bit like myself again. I feel like the guy, so different than the one writing this, who sat at home, planning, thinking, and wondering what this trip, and my future had in store for me. In just a day, life feels eerily normal, even though I know no such thing exists. I feel like I should be more sad as this trip ends (for the time being). Instead, I’m happily content to be able to call a place home for a few days. Rather than focus on what I’m losing, I can’t help but think about everything I gained.
When I last broadcasted, I had just blown back in from the Lost Coast. If you are unfamiliar, the Lost Coast is a mostly undeveloped area of California in Humboldt and Mendocino counties. It’s the longest stretch of California coast with no human development- about 25 miles. It includes the King Mountain Range, and there’s a popular coastal hiking trail along the whole stretch.
From Wikipedia; “The steepness and related geotechnical challenges of the coastal mountains made this stretch of coastline too costly for state highway or road builders to establish routes through the area, leaving it the most undeveloped and remote portion of California coast”
That was a lot of words. Basically, this was a steep, incredibly challenging, and equally rewarding experience on a bicycle. You know you’re in trouble (or a great time) when the road signs all forbid long trucks and cars towing trailers. This was some of the consistently steepest touring I’ve done of the trip. Across the whole country and before this, I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I used my lowest two gearing combinations. Within the first 25 minutes of beginning to climb, I was only shifting between the two :’) The road had three, significant climbs, and I used my lowest gears for most of it hehe. So they DID come in handy.
I know it’s technically called Mattole “Road”, but I was in mountain biking mode while descending. Partially because the road had more potholes than not, partially because of the topography. Nerve-wracking, 180 degree hairpins with grades of -6 to -12%, called for almost white-knuckling my poor brakes. Especially when you consider I’m on a 75 lb bike that carries downhill momentum like nobody’s business. However, much like (almost) every climb, the view and the descent are reward enough. The Lost Coast didn’t disappoint.
I stopped in the only “town” along the way, Petrolia, to stock up on water, one two ice cream sandwiches, and some information on the campsite. The owner told me the campsite was nice, and that the road was flat (I had never heard such beautiful words). She, unfortunately, did not elect to tell me about the 3 miles of gravel and washboard that I would encounter. C’est la vie. I don’t think I would’ve wanted to know in advance.
Arriving at the campsite, just behind a dune from the beach, I could hear the waves, smell the salt, and feel the precious sea breeze. There was room at the campsite, but only one in like four sites had a picnic table (one of my favorite things in the world now). I picked a fun looking adventure van, with someone working on a film camera, capturing some sort of scenery. Time to build the courage to ask him if he would share the picnic table. We ended up chatting after he requested I move my bike to not spoil the timelapse he set up. Understanding his passion and the potential nuisance, I agreed and we hit it off. Corbin, and his girlfriend Corey, were on a roadtrip-branding-adventure for the van rental company. I went and laid on the beach, happily snacking, listening to music, and watching the waves crash until it was time for dinner. After dinner and one the sun set, Corbin and Corey returned to the campsite for their own dinner. They got a bonfire going, and invited me to stick around and keep them company. I had to force myself not to get too emotional, as a bonfire with trail family always beats twiddling my thumbs in my tent!
We snacked, they shared wine, we told stories, and laughed around the fire late into the night. I would be lying if I said my ear-to-ear smile and content heart weren’t burning brighter than that fire.
Inspirational people, with such great life stories. It was a real privilege to get to know them, their hopes, aspirations, and ideals. I slept better than I had in a long time, knowing I had such great people next door.
The next morning was similar- I walked on the beach before joining them for a leisurely breakfast and many great tales and laughs. Leaving the latest I had in a long time, I knew had another big climb ahead of me. Not as steep as the prior day, this one would top out at 2,400 feet. It became instantly hotter leaving the ocean, but upon reaching the summit, it became forested and the descent was sublime. When I think of the unnecessary suffering I endure for great company, great views, and great huffing-and-puffing, Calvin and Hobbes come to mind.
“Everybody seeks happiness! Not me, though! That’s the difference between me and the rest of the world. Happiness isn’t good enough for me! I demand euphoria!” – Calvin
Euphoria is how I would describe the end of the descent, when the county road crosses an invisible line and turns into Humboldt Redwood State Park again.
As instaneous as you can imagine, the trees shot up into the sky and transformed into towering, strong, and beautiful redwoods. I stopped for my peanut butter tortilla lunch, except this time, instead of a picnic table, I walked off the road into the forest. I lay down on a fallen redwood, and marvelled upwards at the trunks, branches, and canopy with the sunlight filtering down to the forest floor
In other big news, I got my first flat of the trip!!!! Super excited!! What a fascinating feeling, being so proud, grateful, and actually downright happy about a flat tire. I know I’m not invincible, and neither is my bike. It does neither of us any good to think that way, and I spend so much time thinking “haha it would be crazy if got a flat now… or now… or maybe later” that it was bound to happen. And it did! For all places for it to happen, it happened 0.9 miles from my campsite- seems rough? Nope. Silver lining check. On a busy highway like the 101, it was fortunate enough to roll me into not only a large, spacious pull-off with room for me to safely lean my bike and bags. It was also very shaded with a cool breeze coming off the river.
I was jumping and yipping for joy on the side of the road. I think nobody stopped to ask if I was okay because I had a huge smile on my face the entire time. It was the rear tire, a result of what looked like an office staple jammed in between the treads. The rear tire already had two patches from the beginning of the trip, which held up for 4,362 miles (7,000km). Guess what I did? Threw another patch on that bad boy and kept. on. trucking.
Editor’s note- my final day from San Francisco to Mountain View, the rear tire started leaking air and required pumping up halfway through the day. I still count it as a great success, and I’m thinking maybe…MAYBE, I’ll put a new tube in.
The next day brought another exciting turn, quite literally. I finally exited Highway 101 and began Highway 1. A beautiful, winding, gradual climb, under trees and through beams of sun, gave way to a very similar, gorgeous, smooth-rolling tarmac descent. Sweeping, banked turns, the cool breeze reminding you that you draw ever closer to the ocean, and my fingers quickly becoming cold. I think I should start yelling at them and see if I can scare them to be warm? It’s like, the middle of August, and 11:30. The sun is up but descending 1000 feet an all of sudden they tinge blue and white? A guy like me can’t win. Oh well, back to the pretty views!
The stark contrast of the highway crawling up along the side of the bluffs that meet the ocean shore at a steep angle make for captivating beauty and inspired photography. This marked the beginning of the days of rolling hills, glued to the side of the bluffs, opening flat across estuaries and rivers, and back up to repeat that pattern. Every turn of the road was only prettier than the last. You’ll have to make it down and see for yourself! I endorse traveling this road by car as well, I think it would be much safer, certainly less tiring, and less risk of falling into the ocean. Don’t read this next section Mom.
Literally, there were some sections with no guardrail and a 500-foot cliff that I moved as far away from as possible. If I wobbled with fatigue, it would both end my trip and potentially become the biggest cliff jump I’ve ever done! Exciting! Terrifying!
Today was also the first big act of trail magic I’d received in a while! A couple, Jason and Bettie, driving home to Sacramento from a road trip, were in a parking lot as I biked by. They had cold water! I just about threw my bike down and tripped over myself to turn back. Glorious, cooler-chilled water. In the afternoon sun, I drank the whole bottle in about 6 seconds. They also loaded me up on dates, the first time I’ve had them for as long as I can remember, and peanut butter crackers. Salty and Sweet? They don’t mess around!
In the best mood, feeling like it was high time to have my first fish-and-chips since hitting the coast, I cruised down to a marina to the highest reviewed fish company in town. You know it’s going to be good when you can see the seals hanging out around the restaurant, as well as a long line and happy patio. It truly didn’t disappoint and I was a little hoppy, happy, and very full. Every time I eat something I can’t even begin to cook with one camp stove and one singular pot, I get so emotionally appreciative. Battered and fried fish and chips, and I’m the only one crying in the club on a sunny afternoon.
The state parks I’ve had the privilege of staying at along the way truly contribute to the magical experience of this trip. I really think doing it by car and you miss so much out here.
The next day I pushed further south. Characterized by similar views as the day prior but with a honking 15-mile an hour tailwind made for great riding. I caught up with Evan, another cyclist on the Pacific Coast, in a small town where he was stopping for lunch. Evan and I rode into the next campground together, set back along a freshwater river, nestled in a beautiful grove of bay trees. The trunks all bump into each other in the wind, creating a fascinating noise. If you’re familiar with the LOTR, it sounds like ents talking- creaking, knocking, and leaves whispering.
The next day had, well, more gorgeous scenery in store. I’m struggling to figure out how to start my journal entry so today’s was
Getting to wake up and do my favorite thing ever today? Riding my bike to new places😎
Yes. I attempted to draw a sunglasses emoji in my notebook. I’m doomed.
Remember Jason and Bettie? My trail angels from a few days ago? They found me again!! I made eye contact with Bettie, my eyes went wide. She said “Do you want some more dates?!” to which I yelled with joy and shouted “Yes!!!!” and we quickly pulled over.
More dates, I tried some coconut water (it was divine, hopefully my future holds more in store), and of course, peanut butter crackers. People like Jason and Bettie and everyone who helps me along the way make me realize how much easier it is with the wind at your back. Jason and Bettie, you guys rock. You inspire me to share what little I have with others.
That night, Evan and I camped in Bodega Dunes State Park. This was one of the most eventful nights of the trip. At the campsite, I biked by two other touring cyclists, who conveniently were coming to the same park!
Suzie and Edwin, both from London, started cycling in Alaska, caught a ferry to Vancouver, and now are riding down to Argentina and the bottom tip of South America. I know right- that sounds awesome. They are just as awesome, if not more. It’s always so much fun to meet and spend time with international tourers. As much traveling as I seem to be doing, getting to chat with people from far distant places and cultures, is traveling all on its own! After a few minutes, another touring cyclist arrived. This is where it gets funky.
The new cyclist’s name was Ben. He too, also had red hair and freckles. We about the same height. He was wearing a neon green jersey with white sun sleeves as well. Our bikes were almost even the same color. He was from Connecticut, and had crossed the country east to west, and was now continuing from where he left off, down the California coast southward. Do you have chills? I know I did! He was super cool as well and as much as we seemed similar, we were different and he was great company for the evening. I sound like a broken record saying all of these people are inspirational, but when you spend as much time alone as I do each day, it’s really nice to not only know other people are out there attempting big, bold things in a similar fashion, but to meet these people. The five of us, Evan, Ben, Suzie, Edwin, and I, all crowded around the picnic table sharing stories till it got dark. Edwin and Suzie, carrying an excellent pantry compared to the rest of us, supplied everyone with cups of hot, herbal tea when it got chilly. The party continued and again, I slept soundly knowing I was surrounded by such special people. Saying goodbye in the morning is always the hardest and the part of the day I like the least :( Edwin and Suzie, I can’t wait to follow along with your adventure and if my schedule is open, maybe, just maybe, I’ll miss touring enough to come join for a crazy section in South America. You guys have such big hearts and I wish you all the best :)
The next day brought a change in surroundings. After Bodega, the highway cuts inland as the Point Reyes Seashore creates a bay. While it still had a resemblance to the ocean and sea breeze, it wasn’t quite the full thing and I began to miss it. Fast. I stopped in Point Reyes Station to reset my phone cellular messaging and discovered that it’s where mountain biking was born. The Radavist (an excellent website curated by bicyclists, photographers, storytellers, and outdoor lovers) has an excellent write-up about the birth of mountain biking in Marin county, the county I just entered. I headed into the Marin Headlands and urban areas to make my way to Mt. Tam where I would camp for the evening.
It’s hard to share this because I can’t even begin to put to words the challenge I faced. The best I can do is a few short sentences. On the way to Mt. Tam, I could take a back road, rather than the busy Highway 1 to Panoramic Highway. This traverses the entrance to John Muir Woods National Monument and I know it would be scenic. However, I’m sure the back road would be scenic too. That is what Google maps recommended. I don’t know why I even begin to trust Google Maps outside of a city, I learn time and time again that someone at the “Bicycling” Routing Department has a personal vendetta against me.
The back road to the Panoramic Highway conveniently dead ends. Well, no worries, Google Maps has me turning left and continuing. That left turn? Turns out it’s a hiking trail.
A hiking trail that one guy referred to as the “Steepest half-mile of trail he’s ever hiked at Mt. Tam”. Being stubborn and finding some drive that I couldn’t explain, I decided it wouldn’t be that bad to just carry my bike and bags up this trail, it’s only a half mile right? (I didn’t see the elevation until checking halfway lol).
Anyways, I carried my bike and bags up this trail. It took eight separate trips. I had to break the trail up into four sections of carrying the bags and the bike, leapfrogging a bit past each one for the duration of the trail. I almost cried at a viewpoint. It was only halfway. Happy, tired, realizing what I got myself into, and realizing that I possessed the grit and perseverance to get myself out. I kissed the paved road at the top of the trail. And then proceeded to re-load my bike and pedal up another couple hundred feet to my campsite.
Aside- I spent too much time reading through Calvin and Hobbes today, semi-procrastinating this, semi-finding fun inspiration. Someone had Calvin and Hobbes cutouts suspended walking across a log. I didn’t even get a photo but it put the biggest smile on my face and I felt like a kid again, out on a little ditty of a bike ride, exploring my big wide backyard, much as Calvin and Hobbes do. My Mt. Tam experience, and complete trip can be summed up perfectly by Calvin
“Life is like topography, Hobbes. There are summits of happiness and success, flat stretches of boring routine, and valleys of frustration and failure.” – Calvin
I slept the best I had, potentially on this whole trip, feeling spent, worn, and that I had pushed myself past a new limit, one I didn’t think was possible.
Finally, the next day carried me into the enduring, open arms of San. Fran. Cisco. I’ve thought about this day for a while, and to be honest? It was just another day bicycling to a new place. Don’t get me wrong- it was absolutely stunning, the Golden Gate Bridge was spectacular, and the city is beautiful.
But I made it out in my head to be this mythical, ethereal place. It wasn’t! That’s a good thing, to me. It’s a real place, filled with real people, living real lives. It humanized it to me. It became approachable, and not something that towered higher and bigger than me, but something I could reach out, touch, and finally, say I biked to. It wasn’t even in the plan when I set off from New York (actually, none of this really was in the plan. Funny how some things work out like that). So I guess that helped? I get too philosophical at the end of these. More pretty pictures!
I spent the evening with my host, Rob, who was kind enough to put me up. Rob is a beautiful soul. Truly, an amazing person, the most gracious host, and pleasure to be around. He not only made space for me in his home, but spent his time. As I look back upon this trip, the memories, the people, and the places, I feel that time is the greatest gift of them all. Rob and I spent the evening making dinner together, a fun tomato sauce spaghetti with some fresh ingredients and great music. It was such a luxury and made me so content to be able to help in a kitchen- that feeling of being part of a team, creating something bigger than yourself, and then sharing it. It really is the little things, each and every one. With some Duke Ellington and John Coltrane, we laughed and chatted until bedtime. Rob was kind enough to let me stay another day, as I wasn’t quite ready to go and felt San Francisco had some more it wanted me to see!
The next day, Rob and I spent a marvelous day out on the town together. Bagels and tea in the kitchen, fixing the town bikes to cruise around for the day, then dim sum for breakfast. It’s so fun eating out with another person because you’re not limited to one dish! Two, three, four dishes to sample and flit between, a luxury I haven’t had in a long time. After finding a fresh loaf of bread, we wandered into a beautifully curated tile and home goods shop.
We spent a bit poking fun at the “Most Essential Dishes” cookbook, filled with what were very arguably, not the most essential dishes and instead very subjective. Feeling peckish again, and being near the Mission District, Rob brought me to La Taqueria, one of San Francisco’s greats. Simple, fresh, outstanding flavor in an unassuming delivery. The experience speaks for itself. My Super Quesadilla was gone in a flash, as much as I made an effort to savor it.
Finally, biking home and lounging seemed enough to feel ready for dinner. We approached the enormous task of making chile rellenos for dinner. We labored away in the kitchen, producing great aromas, tasty food, and an appetite again. Rob invited his neighbors to join us, and we all sat outside. We tucked everyone away half on the sidewalk, half in the garage, with blankets and full plates. Chile rellenos, ceasar salad, and chocolate made for a great success.
The next morning, it was hard to leave. Such a great city, such a great new friend, and so much more to see. However, the road beckons me. I hit the road to head to Mountain View, where I’ll take off my bags for the next couple weeks. Weather was excellent and Google Maps performed flawlessly, guiding me out of the city in a very civilized manner (no hiking involved). My tire was running out of air, so I put just enough to make it to Claire’s door and knew I was almost there.
It was a simple and little joy to be greeted with a hug and a friendly, familiar face. The best part? Having someone else to help me carry my bags up the stairs😅
I’m sure I’ll find some time to write some more this week, with some thoughts on finishing and other fun tidbits. This is getting long and as much as I’d love to share more of my philosophy and lessons, you’ve definitely had enough. I let you get back on with your day but I can’t thank you enough for your time and attention over this trip. Friends, new and old, family, and new inductions to my trail family alike- you all have a place in my heart and I hope you enjoyed looking on over my shoulder for the past couple weeks. If you made it this far, you’re who I write for. Much like the long, enduring nature of this trip, I guess my writing has a similar purpose. Enduring my haphazard thoughts and stream of consciousness should be as hard as climbing big hills and riding into a headwind. I hope you enjoyed it all as much as I did :)
Here are some fun Calvin and Hobbes quotes that I found while slowly writing this. Some may apply? Some are just fun
“Weekends don’t count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless.” – Calvin
“To make a bad day worse, spend it wishing for the impossible.” – Calvin
“Once it’s too late, you appreciate what a miracle life is.” – Calvin
I feel fortunate enough to have recognized early on, what a miracle life is, and has been to me.
Benjamin “The Tired, Weary, and Feeling Slightly Accomplished” Stevens
Finally, I can sign in. What an amazing blog post. It's rare that you can feel an author's enthusiasm/happiness, and it was so ridiculously apparent in this letter. I think you've found your writing style more as this blog has progressed, which is amazing to see. Loved the story with Rob. And I don't think anyone describes you and this trip more than Calvin and Hobbes. If that's not coincidence, idk what is