Day 24 – Stillwater County Park, CA. 72 km
We didn’t get as far as we intended today. Even so, it was a strenuous ride with lots of descents down ravines and sudden climbs up again. This part of the coast offers a tortuously winding highway with absolutely no shoulders anywhere. The strain of the ride is significantly magnified by our constant awareness of impatient drivers being held back, waiting for a time to pass – and often doing so in very risky locations.
With today’s shortened ride we have lost touch with a trio of 50-ish mountain biking guys we’ve been travelling with who are riding the coast from Astoria to their home in San Luis Obispo.
One of them, Joe, rides towing his gear in a trailer. He works for the city in SL Obispo and is endearing for his habit of collecting whatever environmentally nasty stuff he finds by the roadside – typically bits of lead from the wheels of cars, which he wants to prevent getting into the water system.
Tonight we are sharing a campsite with a young Polish couple, Lucas and Marta, who are riding from Seattle to LA as the last adventure of a two year journey around the world – much of it done by hitchhiking. They have been to 30+ countries – places like Iran, Turkey, Oman, India, China, Nepal, etc., and have fantastic stories to tell. These people are fearless in their curiosity to try different things and to visit unusual places. They told us about finding themselves in a remote village in Iran and being invited to spend a night with an Iranian family. Nobody spoke English, so hand signals provided the only means of communication. After living on just $150 for a month in Iran they went to Dubai and were shocked by the costs, so they pitched their tent in a discreet area in the city centre and left after two days. They travelled from the Phillipines to Australia by crewing on a 45-foot catamaran for six weeks with the owner – who turned out to be an unpleasant shipmate.
They are now coming to the end of their global wandering and return to Poland in December. I’m very impressed with this couple. They plan to start some kind of business in Kraków, where they’re from, using ideas developed from their travels. I have no doubt they will do well.
A hard day of riding, made a bit easier by the beauty of coastal Sonoma and Marin counties. We pulled into Olema utterly exhausted, but having achieved our goal – to be an easy day’s ride from San Francisco for tomorrow.
If road builders rode bicycles, things would be so much better (easier, safer) for us milegrinders.
On arriving in San Francisco I was belatedly struck by an interesting observation about our trip to now. We’ve been on the road in America for more than three weeks and I could count on two hands the number of African Americans we’ve seen. We’ve not been in any sizeable cities until now, but it still comes as a surprise.
The hostel we’re in is on the edge of the notorious Tenderloin district (think East Hastings), in a funky old hotel – The Atherton, built at the turn of the century. It’s full of charm and young people from around the world. We’re the only touring cyclists in the place. We plan to stay here for a couple of days to rest and explore. I’ve been to SF a few times before, but everything looks different when you’re travelling by bike. After just one afternoon riding across town to find our hostel I’ve got a very different feeling for the city. I’m charmed.
Riding over the Golden Gate Bridge was a bit of a challenge. But unlike the challenges of other bridges we’ve ridden, e.g competing for space with fast-moving traffic, being buffeted by heavy cross winds, etc. The wide and separated sidewalk of the GG Bridge was great, but it was jammed with people for the whole length. Many of them were on rental bikes and unsteady in their ability. It wasn’t hazardous, but it wasn’t much fun either.
Last night was my first night in a hostel since I was 20 and traveling through Europe. Although exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. At midnight my two (as yet unmet) roommates arrived and climbed into their bunks. This caused me to become more awake than ever. Sleeping in a small room with strangers you’ve not even seen is unsettling. I couldn’t have got more than five hours sleep by the time I got up at 8. By comparison, when we’re camping Sophie and I are in the habit or going to bed by 8:30 – it’s dark by 7:45 – and getting 10 hours of sleep every night.
I met one of my roommates in the morning. Thomas, 26, from Belfast. He’s doing a trip across the US between a working stint in Toronto for seven months, and his next situation, probably in Calgary. Talking with him I realized I felt no age difference. I have no idea what he thought about me – probably humoured me as an old guy. But the shared experience of budget travelling has a way of erasing differences between people. This is what I like and is much of the reason for why I’m doing this trip.
A nice long day of riding. Light traffic, wide shoulders and rolling hills. All good until we reached Santa Cruz and had 
Santa Cruz is a pretty place. The road along the coastal area of town reminds me of Dallas Road in Victoria, except that it’s much longer and the housing is more interesting. The city’s little bay was absolutely filled with surfers although the waves came in gently and not often. The area around the pier was filled with amusement park attractions in the same way as English seaside towns, except on a much bigger and flashier scale. This is America, after all.
The further south we get, the less we see of touring cyclists like ourselves, i.e. cyclists with a plan and a destination. Here at the Vets Memorial Campground we’ve met a very sociable Austrian (early 20s) who is hitchhiking around the western states. Dave (62) is an old hippy from LA, although he says he now spends most of his time in the Monterey area. But camping? I didn’t ask. He says he’s taking care of some business before cycling down to LA. HIs business? “Ganja.”
We idled away our morning in the sunshine in Carmel before hitting the highway. This turned out a mistake as the afternoon brought rain and strong gusting winds. The road to Big Sur skirts the coast and is famously scenic. As today is a Saturday, there was a lot of traffic. And like most coastal hill-hugging roads in California, the shoulder was skimpy in many areas. The combination of continuous traffic, rain, gusty winds and the shoulder deficit made for a very stressful ride.
What a day! Last night we camped at a private campground and felt lucky to get a site as it was getting late and starting to rain. This area has a lot of tourists all year round so accommodation can be difficult – especially since the Big Sur state campground is closed due to issues related to recent forest fires. No risk of fires now, as it pounded down with rain all night and much of today. The kind of rain that soaks you within 30 seconds if you don’t have protection. We have only basic protection – rain jackets – so we were sodden most of the day. So too were our tents which had to be taken down and packed in drenching rain. It was miserable. But at least it’s not cold.
As we started out from our motel this morning we saw a group of road cyclists (no baggage on board) gathered at a food station set up across the road. They were part of a charity ride in support of athletes with disabilities and are cycling from San Francisco to San Diego. We spent the day mingling with various groups of these riders on the road, and prided ourselves on keeping pace with many of them – even with the significant difference in the weight we’re pushing. We also saw Adam, a cyclist from North Van whose riding from San Fransisco to Palm Springs. Adam is camping his way down, but is travelling super light (change of clothes, sleeping bag, tent) and riding a carbon fibre road bike. We first met him in Big Sur on the day of the big rain, however while we dried out in our motel Adam camped a second night in the downpour. He didn’t look any worse for it today. He was pretty cheerful during our brief exchange this morning on the road before turning on the afterburners and rocketing into the distance.
