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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 32

Midway City, CA to San Diego, CA

Hours: 10 hrs

Miles: 95 mi

Elevation gain: 2,490 ft

Elevation loss: 2,451 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 1

Well, the trip is finished. It’s surreal. It was really hard. It was really amazing. But it’s finished.

I woke up this morning at the Sains’ place, suited up for the day, and packed up my bike one last time. I said my goodbyes to all four of them at around 8:30am and then hopped on my bike for my very last morning. It was a sort of bittersweet moment--I was really excited to get on the road and have my last day because I couldn’t wait to be home, but it also was my last day on the tour; today was my 32nd day on my bike and I can’t imagine being back in San Diego and life just settling into the same old routines again. I’ve been in the saddle pedaling, eating, sleeping, site-seeing, experiencing new places, and pushing for the last month and all of a sudden I will just back in my house, going to work, working out, meeting up with friends, and doing simple things like cleaning my house or feeding Mr. P. It really was a 50/50 split of happy and sad.

It was NOT a 50/50 split of happy and sad to leave RJ, Taryn, Brooklyn, and Moose--it was just sad. While I’ve lived away from California in North Carolina, Indiana, and Chicago, I missed out on about three years of seeing them. Now that I’m back on the west coast, I feel so privileged and motivated to see those from college that I love hanging out with and taking advantage of the fact that we are now only a few hours from each other, rather than a long flight and time off. They were such great hosts and I am so happy I was able to meet Brooklyn when she is so fresh out the womb.

The first quarter of the day contained most of the elevation, which I was happy to get out of the way in the morning. The only other elevation I would have is the big hill coming out of Torrey Pines, which was pretty close to home and I was not looking forward to it. The first half of the day wasn’t too bad in general, though it really started getting warmer in the afternoon.

About 5 miles north of Camp Pendleton, a military base, I stopped in San Onofre State Beach to sit on a picnic table in the shade to eat lunch. The bike route took me straight through the state beach, which was great because there was no traffic and it eventually turned into a bike path; I saw almost no bikes on the path as well.

Unfortunately, you have to have a military ID to go through Camp Pendleton; I thought I read online that you just needed to have an ID of any kind. So I rode up to the entrance and was kindly turned away......which meant that I was going to have to ride on the 5. Riding your bike on the 5 is illegal, except for this 8-mile stretch around Camp Pendleton.

It wasn’t scary riding on the shoulder of the 5, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable; the shoulder is the same size of a lane, so cars weren’t an issue, but I was constantly on-edge as I looked ahead to see if there was any broken glass, shredded tires, nails, etc. It was also extremely loud, as there were about four lanes of traffic on each side, so I was altogether very happy when I finally exited for Oceanside.

Getting to Oceanside felt incredible but also somewhat daunting. I still had about 35 miles to go and I knew this last section would feel a bit torturous--so close yet so far. It’s like when you’re on a road trip and you’re 45 minutes away from your destination--it’s the longest 45 minutes of your life. This felt that way, too, though I was really trying to take myself out of that mindset and enjoy the views and ride. Oceanside to Mission Beach is a really pretty and easy-going ride, and it was the last section of my bike trip, so I did my best to look around, experience how it feels to sit in the saddle, and just be on the bike trip, one last time. I stopped in Oceanside for my last awkward late lunch/early dinner meal because there was no way I could make it the last leg without fueling up. I, of course, ate a sandwich, and then I was on my way.

The anticipation certainly started building as I went through Carlsbad, Leucadia, Cardiff-by-the-Sea, and then arrived at Torrey Pines--I’d completed this entire bike ride from Carlsbad to Torrey Pines before with my roommate, Jenny, so it was both frustrating and exciting to be doing it again. I was dreading arriving at Torrey Pines, however, because I had to complete my last climb of the trip, and it wasn’t going to necessarily be easy.

The Torrey Pines hill is steep but just manageable without needing to stop, but it takes about 15 minutes to ascend. I was definitely running low on energy, both from biking and the heat; it was becoming much like the 90-mile day I did north of San Francisco, where things were starting to feel defeated. If I didn’t have the adrenaline of almost being home and arriving at the welcome party Kate organized, it would have been much harder.

Luckily, as I started the climb, another bike rode up next to me and started asking me about my trip. At first, I was annoyed because it’s very obvious I am huffing and puffing up this hill, and he kept asking me questions, but soon I was 10 minutes up the hill and I hadn’t stopped (mostly because I would feel rude leaving Nathan on the road, who had so kindly taken an interest in the tour). I tried to ask him a lot of question so he would have to talk instead, but soon, we were nearly at the top of the hill! I was very thankful for the support and conversation because ultimately, it distracted me and got me past my last major obstacle!

Soon, I was cruising through La Jolla as quickly as I could (La Jolla felt massive--it seemed that no matter how close I felt I was getting to Pacific Beach and Mission Beach, I was still somehow in La Jolla).

Once I was on the Ocean Walk in southern PB, it started feeling super surreal--here I was, riding down a path that I had run dozens of times, seeing restaurants I had eaten at and streets I recognized. Even though I had been biking towards it all for 32 days, I felt like I was suddenly transported from far away, like I had apparated from somewhere on the California coast to just north of my house.

I started seeing streets I knew were in Mission Beach--San Jose, Nantucket, Santa Barbara--and then I was at the roller coaster a mile from my house. There were tourists everywhere because it was the 4th of July week, and I tried not to run anyone down as I maneuvered as quickly as possible around them. I saw Capistrano, Balboa, and then, finally, my sweet, sweet Avalon Court.

I rode down the sidewalk to my house, looked up at the balcony, and saw the wonderful smiling faces of Kate, Josh, Trey, Andera, Amanda, and Danny. I can’t describe the feeling of seeing my house, seeing friends’ faces and cheering, the big hug from Danny after he ran down the stairs, the relief and surrealness of walking up the steps. I have thought for a while that I might cry when I got home and saw everyone, but I was honestly so overwhelmed and happy that I couldn’t even form sentences.

It was so good to see friends, but it was something special to see Kate. She had only left me for a week (lol) but it felt like forever, and it was so good to hug her and be reunited. We rode around 1,100 miles together and I wouldn’t even be on the trip if it wasn’t for her--this whole thing was her idea. I literally could not have done it without her; our experiences together are what made the last part of the trip alone possible.

We popped champagne, we drank beer, we snacked, I couldn’t think straight and was so happy--I know I keep saying things were surreal, but they truly were. Home felt like a far away and intangible place for so long and now I was sitting on my front porch with my friends like I was never gone, and suddenly the bike trip felt like a dream instead. Did I really just bike 1,664 miles? Was I really gone for over a month? Did I actually just do a 95-mile day? I was in a happy, dreamy state and couldn’t quite wrap my mind around anything.

I will say that I WAS able to experience how loved and supported I am--everyone was so happy for me and so happy to see me; there is nothing really like feeling like you were missed, that people are proud of you, happy for you, inspired by you, excited for you.

Maybe most importantly, at least for me, is that I was really proud of myself. I don’t toot my own horn really at all, and I generally feel too narcissistic if I like or am proud of something I did. But finishing this bike trip is something that I am purely and humbly am proud of. It’s something I actually feel like I deserve to be proud but I don’t feel self-centered about it. I am ALSO surprised by what I did.

I can’t describe how I feel about doing this bike trip. There were so many times I felt like it was impossible, especially in the beginning. On day two, I very much felt like there was absolutely no way I could do this; I felt so completely defeated and the scale of the trip was so overwhelming. 30 more days of this? 1,500 more miles of this? Hills? Weather? It was one of only a few times in my life where I felt like I was in over my head.

This trip taught me a lot but an important thing it taught me is to take life day-by-day, challenge-by-challenge. It may be a day with a lot of elevation gain and loss; it may be a day where there are a few big climbs to complete; it may be raining; it may be balls hot; I may want a bed when I only have my sleeping bag; I may not have any motivation; I might be so tired that I don’t think I can pedal one more time; I might have a flat tire while I’m alone and cycling my longest day and almost to my destination; I might have run over my water bottle and have no water left; it may be a combination of any one of these situations. But I learned (better) how to just focus on the task at hand, celebrate the small victories, and to push through when I don’t think I can do something. As someone who deals with a lot of anxiety, it’s really easy for me to obsess over how big and impossible something seems and to feel very overwhelmed. It’s really important for me to better learn how to take a deep breath and take something piece by piece rather than crumble under the weight of how big something seems.

I’ve never been so physically challenged and I’ve certainly never been so challenged by something that requires both physical and mental strength. I was shown in a very tangible way that I am capable of more than I think I am and that I can do things even when it seems impossible or unbearable. It’s made me a lot more appreciative of and inspired by myself; it’s given me the confidence and inspiration to get myself outside of my comfort zone in my normal life, whether that by physically, mentally, artistically, or at work.

It’s such a cliche thing but I’ve really experienced ‘you don’t know until you try.’ I’ve tried to live this way but I’ve been hesitant in so many realms of my life because I don’t want to fail or be embarrassed. This trip has really inspired me to keep trying.

Plus, on top of all that, I am now fit as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck🦵🏼💪🏼and love cycling🚴🏼‍♀️

This won’t be my last tour💜

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 31

Sycamore Canyon Campground, Point Mugu, CA to Midway City, CA

Hours: 8 hrs

Miles: 80 mi

Elevation gain: 892 ft

Elevation loss: 883 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 1

I crossed the LA County and Orange County lines today!

I started my morning earlier because of the distance, but also because all of my elevation was in the morning. I went from Point Mugu to Malibu pretty quickly and stopped to charge and drink some coffee at the Starbucks. Every bigger town/city is starting to feel like a big milestone at this point because these are places I’ve been or am familiar with--Malibu, Santa Monica, Laguna Beach, Newport Beach.

I finished almost all of my last climbs I’ll be doing on this trip this morning--after my last couple of days, the climbs were definitely more challenging than they might be on other days, but I was able to power through them. After Malibu, I was mostly at sea level and on bike paths into Santa Monica. I stopped for lunch in Santa Monica, posting up in the shade of some palm trees on the beach cooked mac n cheese from the Barretts in my jet boil. I feasted on the mac n cheese, Sour Patch Kids, dried apricots, and beef jerky for a while, taking some time to rest before the final push to Midway City.

I made it to RJ and Taryn’s a little later than I anticipated, but they had dinner all ready to cook. I enjoyed a nice shower beer while RJ made burgers, and then after dinner, I held sweet Brooklyn for about an hour. I just bounced and swung her for an hour and she passed out, giving me, Taryn, and RJ a chance to sit and catch up.

RJ is also a good friend from freshman year of college, and I hadn’t seen him in a couple years until more recently when I went to some of his comedy shows. RJ was someone in college that I could be real with but also laugh at the dumbest things with. I would like to think I am the main reason he was inspired to start doing stand-up because I pretty much laughed at anything he said or did. You’re welcome, RJ.

Taryn, his wife, has been around since mid-college, so I also feel like I went to college with her. I’m extremely lucky two of my closest male friends from college married such badass, amazing women that I also really like being friends with.

It was really the best way to spend my last night on the road, and I stayed up until almost midnight, which is by far the longest I’ve stayed up on this trip.

I’ve decided that I’m going to just push tomorrow to finish a day earlier than I anticipated, which means I have to do about 95 miles. Most of it will be flat, except for Torrey Pines, so it shouldn’t be any worse than any of my longer days. I’m hoping/thinking I’ll be full of adrenaline and excitement on being almost finished, so it should be a little easier than if I was doing this type of day in the middle of the trip.

I’m ready to be finished with the tour but then I also know I am sad about going back to real life. I AM excited to see my friends from San Diego and be back in my bed though. It’s definitely going to be bittersweet.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 30

Santa Barbara, CA to Sycamore Canyon Campground, Point Mugu, CA

Hours: 5 hrs

Miles: 55 mi

Elevation gain: 558 ft

Elevation loss: 604 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 1

Santa Barbara ended up being a sort of half-day, which at this time means I only have to bike 50 miles, so I was able to hang out all morning and some of the afternoon before continuing on to Point Mugu. Since it stays light so long and I had no reason to rush to camp, I didn’t worry about staying so late in one place.

Collin and Alexis took me to one of their favorite breakfast places, Cajun Kitchen, where we had a bomb breakfast and beignets, or small, French-style doughnuts with powdered sugar and berries. I was so full but I couldn’t stop eating them. Afterward, they walked me over to one of the coffee shops Collin manages and grabbed some coffee. The coffee shop is tucked in amongst a bunch of other shops one on the cute boulevards. Santa Barbara has such a crisp, clean, yet small-town feel.

Collin and I went to the laundry mat after coffee while Alexis worked on some homework (I was in desperate need to wash my clothes before my last few days; there was no way I could finish my last few days without washing my clothes one last time).

Collin and I became quick friends within two of our freshman year of college, and so in a lot of ways, I feel like he knows the high school Whitney, has seen me through the college Whitney, and then post-college, adultish Whitney. I hadn’t sat down and had a good chat with Collin in three years, but it was so easy to just fall right back into it like time hadn’t really passed. I’m really thankful for my friendships like this because it makes the time apart less of a big deal and I think speaks to a deeper connection that time never really can affect.

After laundry, I, unfortunately, had to get my biking gear back on and hit the road, though I wished I could just stay and hang out all weekend with Alexis and Collin.

The ride itself wasn’t hard, and it did go by quickly until Ventura. Ventura felt like a big step because I associate it with being close to LA. I did leave my solar charger on my bike while I ran into the grocery store, and it was gone when I came back. The solar part doesn’t work anymore, but I should have hidden it. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that it was stolen in Ventura.

My last evening camping is at Point Mugu in Sycamore Creek State Park. I made the mistake of just putting in Point Mugu into Google Maps because I assumed the campground would be right there, but the campground was actually 45 more minutes away, so I continued on. I made it before sunset, so I set up camp and walked down to the beach. The sunset was really incredible, which I guess was a southern-California-wide phenomenon.

I got into my sleeping bag around 9:30pm because I have a little over 70 miles tomorrow to get to another college friend’s house, RJ. Him and his wife, Taryn, just had a baby girl a few weeks ago, and I’m really excited to meet her and see the Sains.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 29

San Luis Obispo, CA to Santa Barbara, CA

Hours: 9hrs

Miles: 95 mi

Elevation gain: 3,018 ft

Elevation loss: 3,176 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 1

Well, it happened. I had the first (and hopefully only) flat of this entire trip.

I knew if I was going to get a flat on this trip, it would be today, because today is my longest and hardest day, and so naturally that is what would happen.

Ethan woke up and made me coffee and a breakfast burrito to fuel me up for my long journey; I thought I would eat half of it and then save the other half, but nope, I definitely ate the whole thing. On top of that, he had already looked at my bike before I got up to see if everything looked good. Truly truly truly, the most thoughtful and knowing host.

He rode out with me to Edna--about 6.5 miles--and then I was on my way to yet another night of friends from school, Collin and Alexis Barrett. Honestly, if they weren’t the end goal of such a long day, I probably wouldn’t have bothered or been motivated enough to attempt it.

Just south of Pismo Beach, I stopped at a thrift store/art spot called THE PLACE, because Ethan actually has a photography show up there right now!

I loved the photos Ethan had up—he works for a news station, but he took a series of photos ‘behind the scenes’ at the event he had to be at. His photos really told stories about the real people behind the events, not just the smiling and posed ‘news’ part of it—a girl whose sheep won in 4-H, but she’s sad because it means it is going to slaughter; a day at the pool when dogs are allowed; a really cool shot of this guy’s cowboy boots as he walks, and the centerpiece of the photo is shot between his legs. I liked them so much that I bought one of this super rad girl skateboarding (it was between that and the dog day at the pool, but that was already taken).

I spoke with the owner of THE PLACE for a bit, standing next to the coy pond and turtles in the center of this high-ceiling shack/barn, and he had such interesting stories to tell. He used to work in Hollywood as a prop/set guy and from what he said, he was at the top of his class, working on things like Super Bowl ads and such. He told me a story of how he snuck wine in a bag into a restaurant and Julia Child called him her so he would share it, and they were friends for many years. I would love to just sit and listen to all his stories, but I had to get back on the road; I had already dilly-dawdled loo long, part of which was procrastination of the many miles I had ahead of me.

I don’t have many pictures from the middle of the day because a lot of it was biking through yellowed hills and farmland with some headwinds, though it was mostly flat. The first big challenge of the day was a big hill right before Lompac. Not only was it relatively steep, the approach to the main part of the hill had strong headwinds, so I was screwed from the start. The hill was one of those put-your-head-down-and-grind-it-out moments for me; I’ve done harder hills but I was already pretty worn out from my last two big days and it was getting pretty warm. There are some days where I feel like I can just bust out a hill, maybe only stop once to take a break, but this was not that type of day for me. I made mini-goals during the hill so it didn’t feel like such a big, impossible task—peddle to that shade and you can take a break, round this blind switchback and if there is a shoulder on the next turn, take a break; if not, keep going until there is a shoulder.

Really, this whole day was made up of mini-goals—Guadalupe was a goal and a small break; Lompac was lunch and a longer break; Ragged Point was 3/4 of the way and a big snack break; and then Santa Barbara would be the final push. It’s these little tricks--looking down while you climb the hill, rewarding yourself with breaks, splitting up a long day into mini-goals—that have made this trip and harder days possible. Because, at the end of the day, either you get there or you quit, and quitting for me meant going home and back to normal life. When it is hard and I don’t want to be on the bike anymore and I want to be done, I ask myself what I would be doing if I wasn’t biking? I would be sitting at work, driving home, lounging on my couch, sleeping, and doing the same thing the next day. And I would choose biking, each day an adventure and the opportunity to see new things and see people I care about, over going home. So I bike on.

At the top of the hill I took a water break before the big descent into Lompac, which I was very much looking forward to, and while I was stopped there, one of the three boys from Idaho rode up! I haven’t seen them for over a week and had assumed they were far ahead of me, since the last time we talked, they were pushing a lot of miles each day. Looks like they caught up with me.

The long downhill into Lompac was so refreshing after all the work I put into going up it. The road wound down and around, and there really is no feeling like lowering to your drop bars and cruising down some downhill curves at 35-40mph. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

I was originally heading to a coffee shop to charge and have a long lunch, but on the way there, I was distracted by a red, glorious sign—Wendy’s. I probably passed a Wendy’s at some point on this trip, but this is the first Wendy’s I can recall actually seeing, and I have been craving a chocolate frosty basically this entire trip. I met another bike tourist there, who had started in Vancouver and was headed to the Mexico border. It seems the further south I go, the more cycling tourists I meet.

I did end up at the coffee shop for a bit because all I crave is iced lattes and sandwiches for lunch lately, but then pushed on to Ragged Point. The sun was getting less intense at this point, and the terrain was getting a little hillier. I had a new wave of energy, though, because of lunch and Sour Patch Kids, so I only stopped for a bit at Ragged Point to have one last snack before the final 25 miles into Santa Barbara.

I hopped back in the 101 for about five miles until I heard the saddest noise I have heard on this trip—my back tube quickly deflating. I made it 1,300 miles, over 1,000 of those with Kate, and 20 miles from my destination on my longest day, I get a flat. And it’s my back tire. And I have to change it alone. I’ve only put tubes on a bike once, and that was when Kate and I assembled my bike the day before we left for this trip.

I always surprise myself in these types of situations, though. I usually end up in a pickle of some kind that I have to problem solve quickly when I do big trips—my rental car from South Bend to Chicago is in a different location so I’m running really late for my flight while I drive through a snowstorm with my cat in a carrier; missing my train in Europe and then having to research a vast schedule of connecting trains that will help get me to where I want to go at about the same time; running out of money in Australia before boarding my flight back to the US and so I can’t pay for my bag. Most of the times that happens, though, it’s within the confines of modern society—I’m able to drop off the car, pay for my cat, and get through security with 10 minutes to spare because I checked in on the flight and already had my bags tagged; I figure out the complicated route and connections for the trains using wifi and a train schedule; my mom transfers money to me but then a wonderful Australian woman hands me a $50 to pay for my bag. There’s usually technology or money involved that can help fix my problem.

There’s only a couple of instances in my life where the pickle I’m in requires physical or hands-on problem-solving, and so this is added to that list. I let myself curse for a second to get our my frustrations, took a deep breath, and then got all the tools out I would need. There’s something extremely satisfying about working with your hands, getting a little greasy and bloody, figuring out the way things are put together. I remembered all of the trouble points Kate and I experienced the first time and was able to pretty easily get an edge of the tire out of the rim, get the old tube out, put in the new one, pump it up a bit, and then start wrestling the tire back under the rim. This, and pumping it up, would be the two hardest parts of the tube change.

Praise Her, though, because just as I was finishing up the tire, a truck pulled up and a wonderful man named Alberto helped me get the tire back in the rim, pump up the tube enough so it wouldn’t pinch between the rim and the tire, and then he offered me a ride into Santa Barbara. For a second, I almost declined; I had my mind set on doing a century, finishing what I started, not ‘taking the easy way out.’ It was a lot of pride, really. But then I snapped out of that—the reason I was pushing to get to Santa Barbara was to have more time with Collin and Alexis, and what was I trying to prove? It would be another two hours on the bike, or a 20-minute ride in a truck. I finally came to my senses and took the ride, and dear god how happy I am that I did. Alberto helped me put everything in his truck, was a lovely conversationalist, and let me eat his cashews. And it only took 20 minutes. Cars still blow me away.

I arrived at the Barretts’ but wasn’t sure which unit was their’s and they were still out to dinner, so I started snooping around. I was super over it all at this point and just wanted to be inside, off my bike, eating. I finally decided the porch with all the cute succulents and plants must be theirs, so I started sleuthing for a hidden key, which I found. I unlocked the door, said ‘please be their place,’ turned on the light, and saw a wedding photo of Collin and his groomsman. Oh, thank god.

I grabbed a beer, made a tortilla wrap with cheese and pepperoni because I was that desperate just to eat, and then Alexis and Collin were home! Alexis made me a frozen pizza, which I ate all of, I took a shower, we chatted, and I knocked out hard on their couch. Seeing both of them again and chatting in their living room really made the whole day worth it—they are both friends that I have not seen for three years (!!!!!!), but when I do, it’s back to normal in a few minutes. Collin is one of my first friends from college, and he and Alexis were dating even then, so I basically feel like I went to college with her, too. In some ways, it was like a mini-homecoming.

Tomorrow is my last night camping! It’s a push tomorrow as well but not nearly as much as today. Today may be the longest I’ll ride on this trip.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 28

Plaskett Creek Campground, Big Sur, CA to San Luis Obispo, CA

Hours: 9 hrs

Miles: 78.5 mi

Elevation gain: 3,650 ft

Elevation loss: 3,560 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 0

I was a little less ‘killing it’ today, but there were definitely points I really enjoyed.

I’ve started waking up before my alarm at this point, which is at 7:00am lately--I think I’m just getting excited to see people I know/be done, and anxious about all the miles I have to do each day.

There were some final climbs this morning, but soon I made it out of Big Sur and its winding, climbing, shoulderless, tourist-filled roads, and made it to flatter ground. A highlight of the first half of the day was getting to Elephant Seal Vista Point. These suckers are HUGE, have weird faces, and make the strangest noises. They all lay spooning each other, and then they literally look like huge-ass slugs when they move. I was both amazed and sort of disgusted.

There were some rolling hills in the second half of the day, and though the terrain wasn’t particularly precarious, I think I was more drained from yesterday than I originally thought. Morro Bay and Cayucas were pretty, but I was ready to get to SLO because I knew I would be staying indoors and with a friend, Ethan, who I worked at camp with. Something I really appreciate about camp is the incredible community it creates--Ethan and I only worked two weeks together, and he was a counselor so I didn’t see him very much, but there’s this pointed connection you can have with someone from a very specific, shared experience; it makes it very easy to just let your guard down, skip past any random small talk and the likes, and get to more honest and fluid conversations or experiences. Ethan also did a cross-country, solo bike tour, so he was able to relate on that front quite a bit.

Ethan met me on his bike and then we rode to his place, which is this quaint late-1800s house in a quiet neighborhood in SLO. The first thing he offered me was a shower beer, which is really the key to any cyclist’s heart, in my opinion. Then, he and his girlfriend made a lovely tortellini dinner with a bomb salad, dessert, and his neighbor from the backhouse brought over homemade hard cider. It was so delicious and I ate so much--there is nothing to fill the belly and warm the heart of a cyclist than alcohol, pasta, fresh greens, and a bit of a sugar buzz.

Thank god for Instagram because my friend from school, Bryan, just happened to be in SLO that evening as well, and I was able to see him for a few minutes over a beer. There are some friends you don’t see often--I don’t think I’ve seen Bryan in five years, since we graduated college--but when you do see each other, it kind of just immediately feels like it used to, and my time with Bryan was just like that, even if it only was for 10 minutes. I have a few friends like that, and though I wish I was able to see them more or that we were better at keeping in contact, it’s such a relief and joy to see them and feel like no time has passed.

The night market was wrapping up as I left the brewery, and now I’m going to konk out real hard on the couch at Ethan’s after a nice fire in the backyard.

Tomorrow is going to be my longest day--I really want to get to Santa Barbara. It’s 112 miles and not completely flat terrain, but I know I won’t regret it once I get there.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 27

Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA to Plaskett Creek Campground, Big Sur, CA

Hours: 8 hrs

Miles: 60 mi

Elevation gain: 4,961 ft

Elevation loss: 4,875 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 0

I don’t know why I was killing it today, but I did. I made it through most of Big Sur.

I got started a little late today because I just took my sweet time getting ready and packing everything up at Marilyn’s house. She was a lovely host and left me coffee, left me breakfast, and had to leave in the morning but said to stay as long as I wanted. What I wanted to do was stay all day and not get back on the bike yet.

I didn’t get on the road until about 9 AM but the ride out of Carmel was pretty easy. There was some a variation of climbs, downhills, and flat sections, but for the most part, it was pretty simple. Soon, I was entering into Big Sur and the elevation was noticeably changing.

There was a big climb right before I stopped for lunch, which I was happy to finish the first half of the day; the second half of the day is always harder to be motivated for. I stopped at the Big Sur Deli and Bakery and sat there for about an hour. Even though I had completed 30 miles in Big Sur, I still had another 30 to go. I was doing really well on time but the second half of the day would be a lot of climbing, so I let myself have a big break for lunch before beginning again.

It’s interesting to talk to people about the trip and where I’ve come from and how far I’ve gone. Kate and I have experienced this on the trip pretty much the whole time--people are always shocked and amazed that we’re doing this trip from Seattle to San Diego. I had one guy today say I must be some sort of professional biker, and my answer is always no, definitely not. Kate and I both didn’t own bikes until about three to four weeks before we left, and I did not try clip-ins until the day before we left. Kate and I were not professional bikers--still aren’t, by any means. Maybe things like this seem less impossible to me because I know quite a few people that have accomplished other big tours like this, but it’s really just one of those things you have to try and you learn as you go. You kind of just have to throw yourself in, sink or swim, because you don’t know what you’re capable of until you push your limits.

I think what I’m learning on this trip is that there is a lot of things I don’t feel like I can do, or I’m too hesitant to try, and a lot of people feel that way. Things feel impossible, but if you don’t push your limits, you don’t really know you’re capable of. I certainly didn’t feel like I could finish this when we first started--day two was particularly discouraging--but as the days go on, things get easier; I learned more about what was going to work, and I got stronger and into a rhythm. I’ve found I’m capable of a lot more than I thought I would.be. That’s kind of how I live my life in general, though--I typically throw myself into something so that I HAVE to figure it out. I’ve needed to be bailed out a couple of times but I don’t regret really anything I’ve ever done because a lot of it has worked out and given me really incredible experiences.

After lunch, there were a lot of hills, but the grade was not as steep as that first climb. It was very doable and the downhills were steeper than the up hills. Plus, there’s actually a lot of construction going on right now, which sounds treacherous but is actually really nice; a lot of times, there is one-lane traffic with either stoplights or construction workers telling you when to stop and when to go. This means someone almost always knows where I am, I get to go first or am last a lot of times, and I get to ride on the side of the road or shoulder that no one is on while everyone has to drive slow around me and is more aware. It also means that bouts of traffic are being held up at any given time, so I could be biking for 15 minutes and not have one car pass me, and then all at once there are 25 cars, and then there’s none for a while. Plus, all of the construction workers are very friendly and helpful--one asked if I had enough water today.

It was just a fun and encouraging day in general, which is nice to have on a more strenuous day alone. Plenty of motorcycles gave me the hand sign or nod, and I had some ladies cheer out the window at me as I was pushing up a hill.

The views of Big Sur after lunch were far better than the ones before--it’s just these giant cliffs, jutting out of the water, and the water is so expansive and blue with the clear skies and sunshine. And like I mentioned, I made really good time today--it should have taken me much longer to bike through 3/4 of Big Sur, but either I was killing it or Google Maps is very wrong.

I did hit a rumble strip earlier today, my water bottle flew out of its holder, and then I ran over it, squishing it and all of the rest of my water. I then proceeded to go to this ‘reservations only’ institution, walk down the steep driveway to see if I could fill up my water, and the guy at the gate said that it was not open to the public.......and that there was no potable water. I have to wonder, what people are drinking down there? Also, if there is no potable water, that’s fine, but why would you first mentioned that it’s not open to the public? Either he or the institution needs to get its priorities straight. Luckily, a little bit of the road, I asked some tourists if they had any extra water, and they were more than happy to give me all of their water. There are still good people left in the world.

I finished up the day at camp at Plaskett Creek Campground at 5 PM. I walked down to Sand Dollar beach to watch the waves, cleaned up, made some macaroni and cheese, and now I’m drinking hot chocolate as I watch the sunset.

I have a couple of big days in front of me--tomorrow should be about 72 miles, and I’m still not quite sure, but I might try to push from San Luis Obispo to Santa Barbara the next day, which would be 112 miles. I have to get to San Diego by July 2 because I fly out July 3, so I’m a little crunched for time but I know I’m capable of finishing.

Tonight is my first camping night without Kate in our tent--it’s a little lonely and different, but soon we will be reunited.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 26

Santa Cruz, CA to Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA

Hours: 5.5 hrs

Miles: 52 mi

Elevation gain: 1,801 ft

Elevation loss: 1,762 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 0

Kate left me this morning and I packed up everything I needed and I got on the road. I took it relatively slow since I knew I only had about 50 miles till I got to Monterey, and so I stopped at a coffee shop to have a treat and some coffee about 10 miles out.

I spent most of the day riding through Strawberry Fields; you could smell all the berries as you pass through them, so I spent the day surrounded by sweet berry smells. The only problem with riding through all those fields was there was definitely a headwind. But there was also no elevation gain or loss.

One of the things that has been most interesting on this trip is going through all the small towns in different parts of the West Coast and seeing the different cultures and lives and realities of various people that live in these small communities. Once I got to the berry fields it was another reality; every place I looked, people were picking berries and they were nearly all Latin American workers. People complain about immigrants, whether they’re illegal or legal, taking jobs, but I saw no white people out there at all, nor do I think it was because there were no jobs for them. I can only hope that these workers were getting paid the proper minimum wage, but a lot of times that’s not what happens. People wonder why people of color struggle with poverty, they complain about people taking jobs, but they wouldn’t want these jobs anyway, because a lot of these jobs don’t pay minimum wage. They take advantage of people here illegally and underpay them because it’s all under the table.

And then people say, well they would have to pay minimum-wage because I’m here legally and that’s the law, but the farmers don’t want to do because they want the cheapest labor they can get. So they wouldn’t be interested in hiring people for the actual minimum-wage.

Don’t even get me started on minimum-wage, especially the serving minimum-wage. Most people don’t know that the federal serving minimum wage is $2.13 an hour and has not been changed since 1991. That is literally my entire lifetime. You’re supposed to make it up with tips but no one is monitoring that, and you’re living your life in a game. And people are supposed to make a living off of this. One day I worked for five hours and I made $12.

Anyway, enough of my soapbox.

I got to Monterey feeling tired but I had a pretty good ride that day. I did experience my second clip in fall. A child was breaking in front of me and there was a car, and the child should have yielded but he wasn’t, and the car was slowing down but I couldn’t tell if it was stopping and I didn’t know if I should pass the child, if the car was stopping, if I should stop, and so at the last minute I decided to yield; I breaked very quickly but I did not unclip. I got a nice ripped up, bloody knee for that and I jammed my wrist.

The last part of my day was actually a big struggle, which is funny because I spent the beginning of the day feeling pretty confident. In between Monterey and Carmel is a big, steep hill and I had to walk up part of it because I just suddenly was so exhausted. But all that to say, I made it to Carmel, where I would be staying the night at someone that my friend Amanda knew. Marilyn was a great host—she offered me literally anything I could have wanted, I had my own big room and a cool shower, which I took advantage of. Her house is this gorgeous, big kind of ranch-feeling house close to the ocean.

My roommate from freshman year (and junior year and senior year) Amanda lives in Monterey so she picked me up and we met her friend Kate at the Monterey farmers market. It was so nice to just catch up walk around, be amongst crowds, have a normal life, eat all the samples, get a chicken tikka masala naan wrap, a draft root beer, and nice IPA, and an oatmeal chocolate chip ice cream sandwich. It’s really nice to be able to visit friends on this trip; I feel lucky that everyone lives extremely close to the coast and I appreciate being able to just fall back into old friendships, even though we haven’t kept up or seen each other in a while.

I am so excited to sleep in this nice, big bed. I wish I could sleep in. I miss sleeping in. And I miss my bed.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 25

Half Moon Bay, CA to Santa Cruz, CA

Hours: 5 hrs

Miles: 50 mi

Elevation gain: 1,919 ft

Elevation loss: 1,962 ft

Clip-in falls: 2

Flat tires: 0

Today was a good riding day—it felt good to both Kate and me to get back in the saddle. My thighs felt SO much better today, so much looser, and more equipped for stamina. I was really worried yesterday on the way to the Cooks’ that I wasn’t going to be able to finish this trip, especially through Big Sur. Well, I would do it, but it would be the hardest thing I ever did. But a half day, beach, shower, spaghetti dinner, wine, Ticket to Ride, and another night in a bed really did the trick.

Jody (Will’s mom) made us a lovely breakfast with poached eggs, toast, coffee, and fruit, and then was kind enough to take us from their house into Half Moon Bay proper, saving us about seven miles/45 minutes of biking 🙏🏼the Cooks were honestly such great hosts and so fun to be around. We were really treated by them, plus, I love meeting my friend’s parents. I feel like I get to know them in a whole new way, understand why they are the way they are, and ultimately see them as their parents (mostly moms) see them—as their little (adultish) boys!

Today had a few climbs but it was mostly rolling hills and going by the beach—all-in-all a really chill ride into Santa Cruz. Kate also passed 1,000 miles today, SO PROUD AND EXCITING!!!

We stopped in Davenport to eat some burgers and fries, and then finished the 11 miles to Santa Cruz Mountain Brewing and then Marianne’s Ice Cream.

It was about this time that Kate made the decision to end her journey here in Santa Cruz and take buses/trains back down to San Diego. The days off and icing helped, but she said it just feels like she’s pushing it too hard and waiting for something bad to happen; something is eventually going to give, and it’s going to be her knee if she doesn’t choose to give before that.

Kate is definitely bummed and disappointed, but also knows she’s making the right decision. Plus, I feel like even if Kate is bummed, she is too positive to stay bummed for long (at least outwardly). Plus, she accomplished something INCREDIBLE—Seattle to Santa Cruz? 1,000+ miles? That’s awesome.

I’m certainly bummed as well—it has been so fun to get to know her on this bike trip, have someone to complain to/with, get delirious with, crave treats with, and go on the same journey with (physically and emotionally). We’d really gotten into a beat with our campsite life—we were pretty efficient and choreographed at unpacking/packing by the end of it. Who is going to turn my bike light on for me when I forget every time? Who is going to have cash for cash-only places? Who is going to remind me that we’ve already done hard things so the present hard thing will soon be passed? Who am I going to take pictures of when they’re not looking? Who is going to share my anguish and help me change my tube if/when I get a flat? There is an empty place in my heart now.

I do enjoy traveling alone as well, though, and I’m eager to push through this next week to make it so San Diego. I’m definitely going to have to push some days to make it by EOD July 2, but I also know I can do it. It’s going to be hard, but I can. But travels shared with someone are always a little sweeter.

We’re staying in a motel one last time to commemorate the end of her journey, and tomorrow I set off to finish the west coast!

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 24

San Francisco, CA to Moss Beach, CA

Hours: 4 hrs

Miles: 33.5 mi

Elevation gain: 2,487 ft

Elevation loss: 2,487 ft

Clip-in falls: 2

Flat tires: 0

Today was Kate’s first day back in the saddle and our first day back together and riding after a much-needed day off in San Francisco. We started off the morning getting bagels and our tire pressure checked, and then skirted the edge of the city along the water back towards the Golden Gate Bridge and then down towards Daly City. It was a beautiful sunny day, but the fog was so thick by the bridge that you could hardly even see the base of the supports. If you didn’t know what you were looking for, you might not see anything at all, let alone one of the most iconic bridges in the world.

We had some decent elevation gain in our short ride today, and my thighs are feeling it. A day off was not enough for them, but we only have nine days left to get as much done as possible, so they can rest after that.

We were fortunate enough tonight to be hosted by Will Cook’s parents in Moss Beach, just north of Half Moon Bay. They walked us down to the beach, where Kate and I then hung out for a bit and both fell asleep, and then we had a wonderful evening of spaghetti, wine, Ticket to Ride, and plenty of stories of Will. We are super grateful for the exceptional hospitality, good conversation, and having a shower and our own beds for a night.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 23

San Francisco, CA

Hours: 0.25 hrs

Miles: 1.6 mi

Elevation gain: 73 ft

Elevation loss: 15 ft

Clip-in falls: 2

Flat tires: 0

DAY OFF IN SF!!!

I didn’t think we would be taking really any days off, but I am so glad we did. I’m getting pretty burnt out.

We spent the morning eating bagels with Sam and her family out in Brentwood and getting lavender oatmilk lattes, and then had to say goodbye to The Wolfe Resort. Kate and I caught the BART into San Francisco to spend the day in the city with some of her friends from home. Luckily, her friend’s boyfriend was out of town so we had our own room to crash in right by Russian Hill.

It just so happened to be one of her good friend’s birthdays, who was hosting a party animal-themed silent disco birthday party, so we had a much-needed, normal human fun day in the city. We obviously were short on animal print or costumes, so I used bike grease to make myself into a raccoon........I was pretty much the only one who was an actual animal and didn’t just wear cute cheetah print, but in the end that’s pretty on-brand for me.

Tomorrow we hop back in the saddle! I am kind of dreading it but I also know this trip won’t last forever, so I’m trying to embrace it.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 22

Lagunitas, CA to San Francisco/Brentwood, CA

Hours: 4.5 hrs

Miles: 40 mi

Elevation gain: 1,303 ft

Elevation loss: 1,427 ft

Clip-in falls: 2

Flat tires: 0

I didn’t sleep as well as I would have liked to last night, but I also wanted to get an earlier start for San Fran because I really really really wanted the most time off that I could. I knew today was going to be a struggle after yesterday, but I also knew a nice bed and a pool waited for me and the sooner I could get there, the better.

I stopped in the morning at a coffee shop about six miles from the campground to grab a coffee and breakfast. It was an unassuming but sort of rustic-feeling coffee shop that also had antiques and such for sale. The guy that made me my coffee was super nice and friendly—he was talking about how he makes his own vegan marshmallows and when I mentioned I had never had a homemade marshmallow, he brought me one with chocolate bits on it and toasted it right in front of me with a blow torch. The sugary goodness carmelized and the chocolate chunks melted slightly, and it might be the best mallow I’ve ever had.

The ride to San Francisco was not as chill as I had hoped or that the map made it out to be. Right before the approach for the Golden Gate Bridge, there were really steep inclines and the strongest headwinds I’ve felt yet. It was a miserable experience and all I wanted to do was be done; I wasn’t even that excited to ride across the bridge.

After I took some time to eat and enjoy the view of the bridge, however, I was feeling a bit more inspired. I had really waited for this moment for over 1,000 miles—hitting San Francisco was a huge milestone I was waiting for and I had to sit and think about that a little to let it set in—I rode my bike from Seattle to San Francisco! That’s a big deal! I let myself remember that before I rode into the bridge.

The bridge itself was actually not that fun to ride on because tourists are everywhere, on foot and on bikes, and they are truly clueless, in the way, and slow at all times. There were a few sections with only a few people that was enjoyable to be on as I rode under the looming orange-red columns.

I spent my time riding my bike along the San Francisco coastline by Crissy Field and such towards Embarcedaro, and I stopped for a treat that actually ended to being a clam chowder bread bowl, garlic fries, and a pop. I did eventually make it to the Embarcedero BART stop though, where a lovely lady helped me carry my bike down multiple flights of stairs. Then, it was about an hour on the train, a seven-mile bike ride from the train to the house, and I did it—I was at the lovely, large home with the pool that I was meeting Kate at.

Her friend Sam, who she met in New Zealand, lives out in Brentwood with her parents in this lovely, large home with a pool and hot tub. They are totally 60s hippies who lived in SF back when it was cheap, sold their house for a ton of money recently, and now have a giant house in the suburbs. Their house is decorated with art depicting Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, The Beatles, Andy Warhol; the books on their shelves are about Burning Man and Woodstock; their stories are about seeing Janice Joplin at age sixteen and being pulled on stage. They were so hospitable and such a fun pair to be around.

And the first thing I did was get in that pool.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 21

Gualala, CA to Lagunitas, CA

Hours: 11.5 hrs

Miles: 90 mi

Elevation gain: 4,600 ft

Elevation loss: 4,497 ft

Clip-in falls: 2

Flat tires: 0

Today was quite possibly the most physically challenging day I’ve ever had, and because of that, it was also very mentally challenging.

Kate left me this morning to catch a bus/train from Gualala to San Francisco so she could have a few days off her knee to rest up. The repetitive motion is getting to it and it keeps getting worse, plus her bike is a little small for her. So, that left me to push on from Gualala to San Francisco on my own!

I was excited to try it solo for the most part, though I also was a little nervous. If anything happened, even just a flat tire, I was on my own. The actual riding part wasn’t too different from when Kate is there, just because we are often riding apart from each other or not talking anyway, but I did feel the sort of weight of being alone when I would stop or when I didn’t feel like pushing anymore. For the most part, however, I enjoyed the adventure of the solo journey and relying literally only on me to get where I needed to go, even if I didn’t want to bike anymore.

The morning was difficult with some pretty decent elevation gain, but it was also fueled by excitement and nostalgia—the last time I was in the 1 this far north was spring break of my junior year of college in 2013; we just sort of began driving to the PCH north and slept on a cliff one night and then camped at a random state park we came across the other nights.

I don’t remember many specifics of the drive as far as points of scenery or anything, but it was sort of exciting to know I had been on this same road, in these same spaces, six years ago. Never would I ever have thought back then that I would be returning to these places on a bike tour, not to mention just how much has changed and all that has happened in that time span. Whenever I revisit places I’ve been before, especially places that hold some sort of emotional significance or memory, I always reflect om all that has happened since the last time I was there. It is cliche, but it really is true—you just never know where life is going to take you. 21-year-old Whitney couldn’t even fathom all of the things that would happen in the next six years, or that I would be back in these spaces once more anytime soon. It really just puts a perspective on both the good and bad times in life—it feels like everything in life is a certain way, or never going to change, or is so good or so bad, but then time goes by and you find yourself in these old places and you’re not the same as you were then, nor is much about your life. The only thing that has stayed the same is that place.

So I visited some of these spaces on my solo day, thinking about all I’ve done and who I’ve become since the last time I was there, all while biking along huge cliff drop-ofs where there is no shoulder and no guardrail and it is winding up and down. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid at all—one bad driver could mean you sliding off the road and right down the cliff.

I felt pretty optimistic about what I wanted to accomplish in the first part of the day—the guidebook suggested Bodega Bay, but I knew I wanted to push past that because I wanted more time to rest in SF. The only problem is there are no campgrounds or affordable accommodations between Bodega Bay and Lagunitas, which is where the next day’s stop is supposed to take you. The morning was intense but I felt confident I could push past Bodega and then either find a WarmShowers/Couchsurfing host, cheap motel room, random camping site, or I was honestly pretty much expecting to just pull off the road and tuck myself away on some cliff or pasture area.

Gualala to Bodega Bay was a little over 40 miles and was mostly elevation gain and loss amongst the ocean/cliffs. I made it to Bodega Bay and though I was tired, I didn’t want to just do 40 miles. So, I pushed on. The only thing about the space between Bodega Bay and Lagunitas is it is rolling hills in the middle-of-nowhere farmland and inland. However, like I said, I was prepared to bunker down behind a giant boulder in a field if need be. It was about 5:00pm when I was passing through these areas, and though I was definitely slowing down, I just figured I would push on to Point Reyes Station at least—I had messaged a potential Couchsurfing host, so I was hopeful I could stay there and then finish the last 35-40 miles into SF the next day.

After awhile, the farmland was more flat and there was nowhere I could hide to sleep. Additionally, I knew I was getting closer back to the coast, so I hoped I could find a rocky cliff area that I could tuck myself into for the night.

By the end of the farmlands section, however, I was really regretting I had pushed past so far, and now, I had no other option but to keep pushing. I had done about 60 miles at this point but there was no end in sight. My energy and motivation really started taking a dive, and each hill became more and more impossible to climb. It was during this time that I had my first clip-in fall of the trip, in the same manner that Kate did—unclipped one foot, but fell the other way. It was sort of a low for me, but I just had to pick myself back up and start pep-talking myself into continuing on.

Well, the coastal part ended up not being cliffs but just some tiny fishing towns with nowhere to stay and nowhere to even hide and camp. It was flatter in this section, but I was becoming increasingly desperate to be done and it was getting darker.

Right befor Point Reyes Station, I stopped by a state park to use the restroom because I had been holding it for quite some time. Of course, this could not be easy either. A woman approached me from her truck and started talking all sorts of crazy about trying to give out hundreds of dollars and her kids’ two dads and how her grandmother had a miscarriage but moved out here...just really a bunch of nonsense. She had to either be schizophrenic or on something. She was harmless and nice, but I told her my name was Kate. Eventually I was able to cut off the conversation and then I called the police down the road because I didn’t think that woman should be driving; as a cyclist, I especially didn’t want her on the road.

I eventually made it to Point Reyes Station, but the sun has set at this point and it is dusk. I still have eight miles to go to get to the campground and I know part of it is a climb. Every truck that passed me, I looked at longingly, willing it with my eyes to stop and give me a ride. I don’t remember the last time I felt so physically helpless and just didn’t feel like I could make it, even though I knew I could (and essentially had to). It’s weird in those situations, where you literally have no choice but to keep pushing, even if you don’t think you can push anymore. What’s the saying—it’s always impossible until it is finished?

By the time I get to the state park, it’s completely dark and my head light will only stay on for five seconds at a time. Additionally, the camping part of the state park is not immediately when you enter, and so I was going a little crazy at this point—peddling in the dark with a faulty head light on a wind-y road with little shoulder, just desperately searching for the camp ground. About a mile in, I arrived. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see a brown parks road sign.

It was dark and about 9:30pm and all of the other hiker/bikers were in their tents asleep, but I didn’t care—I rewarded myself with Mac n cheese and a mini carton of chocolate milk, washed up, brushed my teeth, and then PTFO.

Altogether, I finished two days of biking from the guidebook into one, biking 90 miles with some pretty decent elevation gain. I am very proud of myself but I also realize I am a bit of an idiot.

I will say that I am mostly proud of myself though, especially as I passed 1,000 miles today! I cannot believe my ass has been on a bike seat for over 1,000 miles now.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 20

Mendocino, CA to Gualala, CA

Hours: 7 hrs

Miles: 50 mi

Elevation gain: 3,389 ft

Elevation loss: 3,491 ft

Clip-in falls: 1

Flat tires: 0

A slower day for us, pretty foggy, though at the end it cleared up for a beautiful sunny day. We stayed in a really cool state park in Gualala where these mossy, tall trees gave us shelter. We ran into the Minnesota boys again, plus two older men—Dennis and Bob—that had met Reuben. I’m starting to think we won’t run into Reuben again; we passed where he was staying today, and so unless he picks it up, we will probably be in SF before he gets there. That’s the sad thing about these types of trips—you say goodbye a million times, not knowing if it is the last time, but the more times you say goodbye, the more likely you feel like you’ll run into them again so it’s not as heartfelt. Then, one of the times, you don’t.

Kate’s knee is really bothering her, even though she iced at Jesse’s and he gave her CBD to rub on it. She’s thinking of hopping a bus to SF to rest for a few days and I’ll bike to meet her. I could be riding solo for a few days😬exciting but anxious.

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bikingb1tches · 5 years

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DAY 19

Standish-Hickey State Park, CA to Mendocino, CA

Hours: 8 hrs

Miles: 56 mi

Elevation gain: 4,081 ft

Elevation loss: 4,767 ft

Clip-in falls: 1

Flat tires: 0

Today we got on the Pacific Coast Highway! This is a huge milestone for us—it’s what we’ll be taking pretty much all the way down the California coast.

We also had to do the highest point of elevation on the California coast today—what many cyclists know and dread—Leggett Hill. The Astoria Bridge was our first big hurdle, and Leggett Hill was the second big hurdle we have been thinking about for many a mile. Not only is it a long and high uphill, but there isn’t a great shoulder and it winds all around—not great for cars and bikes together.

But, like most things on this trip, it wasn’t as bad as its mythologized. Sure, it was a very long, uphill climb. I stopped multiple times. But for the most part, the grade was very manageable, every now and then there was a place to pull off to take a break, it was shaded (blessup), and we started a little after 8am so traffic wasn’t that bad. We actually had multiple motorcyclists give us nods or cheer us on; I’ve had multiple motorcyclists give me the ‘motorcycle hand acknowledgement,’ a nod, or one guy in Leggett Hill pumped his fist in encouragement for me. It’s kind of this two-wheel community sometimes, even if we are in very different worlds.

The rest of the afternoon was off-and-on foggy/sunny, depending on where we were at. There were climbs and downhills, all pretty typical coastal terrain. Nevertheless, we were happy to get to the cute coastal town of Mendocino to explore a little bit, get a treat, and head to our campsite.

While we were sitting outside at a coffee shop eating big pieces of pie and cake however, a 40ish-year-old man came and sat with us to chat; he saw our tourist bikes as he was walking by and is a big cyclist himself, going all over Mexico and such. We got to chatting and he is actually a WarmShowers host (online community of enthusiasts and cyclists that you can request to stay with/offer to host) and he offered us a place to stay! We generally take any chance we get to sleep indoors and get a shower, so we told him we would discuss and get back with him. He simply said “Let me know—I live behind the big, white Victorian down this street in a water tower.” So, we were sold.

Jesse’s place was absolutely incredible and he was such a terrific host. There’s tons of little water towers around Mendocino and a few of them have been converted into houses. There was a large downstairs witha queen bed and bunk beds and bathroom for us, and then the floor above that was the kitchen and another bathroom, and the next floor above that had a massage bed and a couch, and then there was a ladder leading up to a loft to his bed. Plus, there was a hatch window with a ladder leading up to the very top of the tower, where he had some lawn chairs and a great view of Mendocino and the coast. He gave us beers, a huge-ass salad, let us shower, and took us to a ‘locals-only-know’ place on the coast in some cypress trees to watch the sunset.

In the morning, he bought us coffee and looked at our bikes for us, and then left for work and us at his house to stay as long as we want!

It was really one of those moments you look forward to on a trip like this—just something so unexpected, delightful, enjoyable, and much needed. It will be a hard WarmShowers to beat.

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