Continue reading]]> I awoke on the morning of day 4 in Westpoint Union State Park greeted by a classic California coastal scene visible outside of my tent. From the seaside bluff where my campsite was set up, light fog drifted lazily up from the beach below, cresting in slow motion wave over my campsite. The warmth of the morning sun poked through the fog here and there, but it was still a little cold and damp at ground level, so I stayed under my vestibule as the morning grew warmer and my tent dried off.

I was pretty excited about the route that day. This was another relatively short day and I planned to take my time riding bike only coastal trails and spending time in the scenic towns of Fort Bragg and Mendocino, among others. I got packed and I was riding early as usual.

The partially collapsed road that runs through Westpoint Union State Park used to be either the main road through the state park or Shoreline Highway itself, I was not sure. But the California coast was having its way with the road. The steep cliff down to the ocean was advancing inland over time, causing the road to either break apart as the land underneath it shifted, or completely fall into the ocean dozens of feet below. Where the road was completely gone there were hiking/biking trails to skirt around the missing sections.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
06:54:34 hours	04:37:39 hours	41.91 mi.	9.06 mph	38.47 mph	2,312.99 ft.	1,736 kcal

As I continued down the road I discovered the park had another section of campsites. The camp host had instructed me to stay in the section where I had stayed. But maybe some of the other riders that I had hoped to meet had stayed in this last section. The park did not have any specific hike or bike spots as far as I could tell. This other section was bigger and had more people camping there, but it was still primitive, pit toilet only camping.

I eventually had to get back on the main road, which meant the occasional fast vehicle that did not move over for me at all, but they were few and far between.

The little village of Westport was the first bit of town of any kind that I had encountered since early the day before. The quaint little hotels were abuzz with activity and people coming and going. I stopped at the market in town and ate a hobbitesque second breakfast since my supplies from the day before didn’t go far enough. The market was a meeting place for people in town and local gossip was flying fast and thick while I was there. They were very familiar with seeing people riding the coast on bikes and were ready with sandwiches, water, candy and other goodies.

Back on the road, the rolling terrain to south clung to the ocean cliffs at times, then it wandered inland to ranches, hilly estates and groves of eucalyptus and birch trees. In a few places the trees covered the road in a full canopy, windswept and leaning inland, looking like they were planted that way intentionally to serve as a windbreak.

I was enjoying the scenery so much that I missed my “exit” in the little hamlet of Cleone that lead me down to a beach trail identified on the map as “Mackerricher State Park Road”. But it was a paved bike trail. I doubled back on the trail and rode the section I had missed so as not to miss any of it.

It was great to be down at the ocean level for the scenery as I rode, but it came at the price of a steady headwind. The trail that began in Cleone continued into Fort Bragg. It actually did too good of a job of keeping riders away from traffic because I missed the city of Fort Bragg completely. So I detoured back into town to make a few planned stops, including a sporting goods store, a bike shop and the Skunk Train. I wanted to stop at a deli for lunch, but the directions and recommendations I got in town were confusing, at least to my hungry brain, and there was a big construction project on the main street through down. I decided there would be plenty of other opportunities to grab a sandwich farther down the road, so I continued south out of Fort Bragg.

The little town of Caspar turned out to be a cute little village worth a visit. A little market nestled in the Caspar Headlands State Park was where I stopped and ate. As usually happened, getting some calories in me revived me and I was ready to push on. I kept off the main route and headed to the Cabrillo Lighthouse, which still has a spinning lamp atop it, a shop in the bottom, and homes that were once residences for lighthouse operators that are maintained and can be rented out for a stay.

Mendocino was the next and final town of the day. This was my night to stay in a hotel. I plan my trips with one night per week in the luxury of a hotel, it is a good chance to get me and my gear really clean and dry. Mendocino is an absolute gem of a town. Like Fort Bragg, the bike paths between the town and the ocean are not to be missed, even if they are not the most efficient way to travel through the area. The coast there was rugged and windswept with few, if any, sandy beaches.

Riding into the village itself, I rode up and down the streets of the downtown area, not wanting to miss any of the quaint shops, museums and restaurants. I eventually wound my way up the hill to my hotel for the night, and it was a welcome sight indeed. It had no on site restaurant or laundry. So I rolled back downhill to the local market for what I needed. The locals all knew each other and used the market as much as a meeting place as a place to buy food. No one seemed to be in a big rush. Back in the room I used the bathtub as a wash basin and hung everything out to dry around the room. I even had internet quality cell service, something I did not take for granted anywhere during the trip. I did my daily check in with my family, enjoyed the food from the market, and even did a little video streaming, but I did not last long. Sleep came fast and easily as it always does while bike touring.

Continue reading]]> On Day 3 I awoke to an empty campsite, though there had been another cyclist there the night before: Reuben. But I knew that Bigfoot had not scared him away during the night. Reuben had left camp early for something far scarier: the climb from Leggett.

To be fair, Leggett IS the biggest climb along the Pacific Coast Route. Accounts of cyclist tours often portray it as truly horrific. But I looked at the elevation profile before my ride and I saw that Leggett was smaller than the big climbs you encounter on most tours in the US. The elevation profile showed two separate climbs, so it is broken up into pieces as well. How tough could it be?

I got a relatively early start and stopped less than a mile down the road in Cooks Valley for supplies and “breakfast”: an egg panini, virtually identical to dinner the night before. My food supply was low, and that was a result of me not stopping for food in Garberville the day before as I had planned. It was nice to know that I would survive if I did not stick to my super detailed plans. My plans were not meant to be rigid, but rather to keep me from ending up without a source of water for a day or having a similar crisis.

The approach to Leggett was full of smaller hills and was a steady uphill grade that started tenderizing my legs before the main course of the day. But the views of the lovely Eel River and heavily forested lands made it worth it. One of the frontage roads that would divert me from the freeway was closed, keeping me on the official route. It did have the benefit is shaving off some miles from my planned route.

It was here that I noticed I could not trust the elevation profiles that my navigation software generated, and that was a good thing. I planned my ride each day and made a GPX track and elevation profile for it. While I am happy to change my route on the fly, the courses give me a baseline to work from and know what to expect. When I first looked at the elevation profiles for the ride I was a little overwhelmed. Many days called for over 4000 feet of climbing, which is on the high side for me on my loaded touring bike. But when I looked closer I could see something was not right. The elevation profile was full of impossible spikes up and down. Passing over a very high bridge that day I discovered one of the reasons for this: the elevation profile did not recognize the bridge and showed the elevation as if the road went all the way down the huge valley and back up again. Elevation data was also thrown off by roads that ran along the top or bottom of a steep cliff, occasionally reading the elevation as though the road went up and down the cliff. So it was mystery solved, and I dreaded the climbing on the days ahead a little less.

The day was not without its tourist stops. Confusion Hill is a gravity gone wild kind of place. But I got there before they were open, which was fine by me. I did not need anything to make me any dizzier than the terrain doing already. I took a brief stop with good cell service and returned to the business at hand.

The little hamlet of Leggett was the namesake of the climb for the day and the last place I could get supplies, which meant carrying the extra weight of dinner over the hill. It was also the location of THE drive through tree, the Chandelier tree, which warranted a short side visit and a little messing around.

After getting my fill of tourism I was back on the road, and there was no avoiding it: Leggett was next. The hill is significant, and is really two hills that I will call Leggett major and Leggett minor. Major is first and bigger of the two. Leggett minor was shorter, but its grade was steeper and unrelenting. All the other cyclists I would talk to about the climbs agreed that the two hills were the about the same difficulty.

The road has a shoulder of varying width, not always a big enough for a touring bike. The scenery was a continuation of the redwoods, especially in the valley between the two climbs.

The transition to the rugged Pacific coastline was sudden and dramatic. The coast was drenched in sun, but the pounding waves were sending up a mist into the air, giving it a surreal look after days of clear air inland with the Big Trees.

The campground I stayed at, Westwood Union, was quiet on a Monday. I was the only one there on a clear bluff of treeless campsites overlooking the ocean. Hours later a lone RV joined me. None of the other riders I had hoped would be there showed up. It remote: water spicket, pit toilet only, and almost no cell service. I looked forward to my hotel stay in Mendocino even more and made due with water I heated up myself in lieu of a shower. The coastal wind was not what I expected or what was forecast. It was a heavy ocean breeze from the southwest following the common pattern of shifting direction late in the day. I fully staked and guyed out my tent just in case. And the wind died down in the evening as usual. After a day of big climbs and with the sound of the crashing surf below, I slept well on the bluffs above the Pacific.

Relive ‘Morning Ride’

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
07:45:44 hours	04:31:23 hours	40.51 mi.	8.96 mph	38.03 mph	3,556.43 ft.	1,844 kcal

Continue reading]]> Day 2 was the day of my tour where I had the least amount of riding planned. I normally covered about 50 miles a day. If I rode at that pace I would pass through the redwood region without spending much time there. Riding less would allow the day to be a sightseeing tourist day. Oddly that is a challenge for me physically. I can ride long distances on my bike but stopping for long breaks and starting up again is hard: I would rather only take a few short breaks and get in all of my riding in one session. That may seem counter-intuitive, but I picture my body like some kind of flywheel that takes a lot of energy to get rolling, and once it is spinning it does not want to stop. But alas, tourist traps and natural wonders are not distributed according to my riding preferences.

I am an early riser, and waking up in a silent campground in a place like the Burlington campground among the huge redwoods was a delightful experience. I prepared breakfast in my vestibule as usual, which allows me to get started slowly without getting out and setting up on a picnic table. Being an early riser also gives me the advantage of uncontested access to restroom and shower facilities.

Other riders began to get up and prepare for the day ahead. I said my good byes and a rode every bit of a few hundred yards next door and stopped at the park’s visitor center. It had a lot of history told in images and artifacts accompanied by detailed information and narrative. It included the “Travel Log”: a camper/RV of sorts made from a downed log of a tree estimated to be over 4800 years old.

After so many miles riding along the banks of the Eel River I finally took the opportunity to pull off the road and walk down to its banks. The crystal clear water held up to close inspection; I have seen manicured ponds that did not look as pristine. And the water was warmer than air temperature too. As I rode through the park that day, I saw many people setting up day camps along the river, usually in one of the few areas where it was deep enough to swim in.

Farther down the Avenue of the Giants I encountered the village of Meyers Flat and the Shrine Drive Through Tree. There were multiple drive through trees in the area. This one was privately run and a bit campy, but still fun and an interesting experience. While I was there several cars went through. One driver pulled up and decided that they might not fit, so they backed out and did not go through with it.

I bought a deli lunch at the Four Mori market in Meyers Flat so that I could take it with me and have lunch in a redwood grove farther down the Avenue. The nice lady running the place shared the location her favorite spot just off the road in the direction I was going, which proved to be a very nice place to have lunch. She also hooked me up with a small bag of ice, which I really appreciated. Ice is the one luxury that I cannot easily pack while riding. Coolers or thermoses that could handle ice are too big for me to deal with. In many locations ice is only available in bags too large to carry. I have gone so far as to buy a big bag of ice and throw most of it out. But the lady at the market was nice enough to open a bag of ice and let me take a small amount in a plastic bag, which was perfect for my beverage at lunch.

All of the villages along this section of the route were picturesque and nestled among the redwoods. Miranda and Phillipsville were both scenic and busy on a Sunday morning.

The nature of the towns changed as I went south, however. As I approached Redway I saw a man walking along the shoulder of the road. I presumed he was a rare hiker that might be traveling along the same route. As I passed him I said hello. But his look back at me was strange and he was filthy and not equipped for a long journey. Just down the road I saw a blue tarp covering a tent house just off the road, and I added it up: he was homeless.

I don’t want to dwell on the homeless situation throughout my blog, so I will cover it once here rather than bringing it up each day. I feel I should not ignore the issue. I encountered a lot of homeless people during my tour. Many were living along the bike trail in Eureka the day before and through the Redway/Garberville on this day of the ride. I saw more of them as I traveled south. In the city of Oakland and during my train ride home south from Oakland I saw numerous large encampments throughout the state. Bike trails and railways are where many homeless seem to be able to get away with living illegally without being evicted. The number of homeless people is a chronic problem in the nice weather of California historically, but their numbers have exploded in recent years due to many factors, the rise of Opiod abuse among them. Unlike the small numbers of homeless people I am accustomed to, the new larger groups make no effort to hide themselves. They gather, sleep, and build dwellings in very visible public places, and cities and the state seem unable or unwilling to do anything about it. While they are not all violent or criminal, some of them can be. Touring cyclists are not afforded the protection of an enclosed vehicle, and further, our bikes are target items of theft for the unscrupulous among the homeless. The topic of the homeless came up every night at the hiker/biker campsites, and all of us took extra precautions to protect our safety and belongings in areas where the homeless population was visible. Alison at Burlington campground was a social worker very familiar with the situation and I learned a lot from our discussion. No place was worse than Redway/Garberville, where the homeless seemed to outnumber the rest of the people. I had planned to stop and get food in Redway. There were dozens of homeless people in and around the market, nearly all of them staring at me and my bike as I locked it and went in for supplies. After a few minutes in the store I decided better of it and left quickly without buying any necessary food. I was watched closely as I unlocked my bike and rode away. I was so unnerved by this that I forgot to stop for food at the next village of Garberville also, where the homeless situation was similar. I was able to find supplies in Cook’s Valley just past my destination that night at the state park. I don’t want to discourage people from riding through this area. No cyclists I spoke with had any first hand experience of any direct problems with homeless people. And the homeless are not a problem in the remote camp areas where I stayed. If you ride through the area, be aware of the homeless population and avoid the large groups, especially if you are riding alone.

While making my way through Garberville I encountered another cycle tourist with his bike pulled off the road, all of his bags removed, and his hands covered in black grease. He was having a mechanical problem with his bike: he could not get his rear wheel to spin. I was worried the internals of his hub had seized up. On closer inspection I realized that his thru axle was not lined up right. I arranged everything properly and we got the wheel spinning so the hub was not the problem. But his bike had a strange thru axle I had never seen before, and neither of us could figure out how to tighten it all the way. It sounds odd and it was. After doing all I could, the rear wheel would not fully tighten and it had a lot of side to side play. The rider thanked me and said I was free to go. He was riding with a group and was in contact with them on his phone. I left without fully resolving his mechanical problem, but I did manage to help a little, and to the best of my abilities. Still, I am used to staying with people until they are able to get riding again. Fortunately I met him later in the day at the gas station/convenience store in Cook’s Valley and he thanked me and reassured me that I had helped a lot. I was happy to see him able to continue.

I stayed at Richardson’s Grove State Park campground that night: another lovely park set among the redwoods. My fellow cyclist at the site was Reuben from Sydney (Australia, duh!). He was a research assistant at the University of Sydney and later became staff, wearing many hats. He was riding the entire coast in one trip and we had the same destination in mind for the next day, so we would camp again if all went well. Reuben shared the story of staying in a campground where a mountain lion made the sound of a screaming woman in the middle of the night, which is not uncommon. It terrified some of the campers there including a couple of women cyclists who were unable to sleep for the rest of the night. Reuben, like myself, always slept with earplugs and an eye mask, so he didn’t wake up for it.

It was also Father’s day that day. I would have never intentionally scheduled a trip all by myself for Father’s day, but I messed up. My trip was originally scheduled for the end of May which is usually well outside the rainy season for the area. But the area was hit by a big rain storm that week. If I were riding for months I would have dealt with some rain, but I would have been riding in the rain for my whole trip, so I decided to delay the ride. I rearranged all of my travel, reservations and work vacation schedule in a bit of a panic and unwittingly scheduled it to include Father’s day. I realized it only after everything was moved and I decided not to move and delay it a second time. I enjoy time with my family on Father’s day and there were reminders that it was Father’s day throughout my ride that day. Each time I was reminded of it I felt a pang of disappointment for messing up my schedule.

The park had spotty, terrible cell service, but my daughter called me for a Father’s day talk and we spoke for a long time. It was a wonderful talk and it helped make up for my feelings of missing out on the day. My cell service seemed to fade just as we were finishing up our conversation anyway, and I was not able to make another call during my stay at the park, it was like a little bit of magic during my journey. I think service got worse because more campers were showing up and overloading the local cell tower, up but I am sticking with the magic narrative.

Reuben was a disciplined rider who was taking the next day of riding pretty seriously. The route would include the fabled climb from Leggett, which is the biggest climb along the entire Pacific Coast Route. He turned down my offer of cheap wine I had gotten in town and climbed into his tent early to get in extra rest and an early start for the next day. I had looked at the elevation profile of the day and read about the ride on social media and I was expecting a climb, but not like Reuben seemed to be expecting. He was a younger, leaner, stronger rider than me so I was sure he would be fine. I retired only shortly after him, leaving most of my wine untouched, so maybe I was actually looking forward to the next day with a little more trepidation that I was willing to admit.

Relive ‘Morning Ride’

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
07:24:44 hours	03:35:13 hours	36.57 mi.	10.20 mph	38.25 mph	1,955.38 ft.	1,377 kcal

Continue reading]]> Day 1 started as expected: in a cute coastal town with overcast damp weather. I was pleased to find that I had not forgotten anything, which I usually do on bike tours. I would not be 100% sure until I made camp for the night, but it was “so far, so good.” I made a quick stop at the local drug store for a few extra items and I hit the Waterfront trail. The trail kept me off of the roads and traffic of Eureka, but too well, so I took some detours off the trail to explore old town and have breakfast.

The first side trip I made was for the Carson Mansion, which is well worth a quick side trip to check out.

Farther down the trail, a visit to the old town area and breakfast were on the agenda. The Greene Leaf was having a gourmet brunch on Saturday, but I was happy with a classic egg combo. I leaned my bike against the front window and was able to see it while I ate. So far I had avoided locking my bike while keeping is secure.

Old town had a lot to see, even before most places were open, so I pedaled around the area to make sure I didn’t miss anything then continued my journey south.

I passed through so many other small towns that day: Loleta, Fortuna, Rio Dell, and Scotia. You can see most of them in my video. But somehow Scotia escaped all of my efforts to record it. It was a very well kept little town and it used the Eel River for industry – mining and logging. Logging trucks were very active along the roads I was riding.

Riding conditions that day were dominated by the tailwinds, which were welcome as always. Winds from the north are the prevalent conditions in the area, and they are why most cyclists riding the Pacific Coast Route take it from north to south. I passed a group of 3 riders that were fixing a flat while I was on a freeway section. I checked in with them and they said they had everything they needed.

I finally arrived at the feature of the day, the Avenue Of The Giants: a presumptuously named road to be sure, but it lives up to its name. Going from the sunny warm open highway to the canopy of enormous trees so suddenly was overwhelming. I had to stop and compose myself and embrace the whole thing as I was getting downright emotional about it.

While Redwoods dominate the scenery, they are interrupted briefly and occasionally along the road by private farms, run down residences, RV parks and a few tiny villages. My plan was to get food at a market in the village of Weott close to Burlington camp. But all of the locals that I asked about supplies said there was no store in Weott. This in spite of the fact that I looked it up on line and even did a virtual drive by of the place. But Internet based information is notoriously inaccurate in a place like this where cell service, let alone internet access, was rare. So I stocked up with a sandwich early. The little market in Weott was there, however. and I stopped in for supplies. When I told the owner about how no locals seemed to know the store existed, her face collapsed. After recovering she thanked me profusely and grabbed a phone as I walked out of the place, I can only presume it was to call all of her local contacts and get the word out.

That night, as I planned, I camped among redwoods at the hiker/biker camp site at Burlington Campground. I was joined by many other riders including the three that a saw along the freeway. It is always nice to see riders that you encounter during the day with mechanicals join you at the end of the day. I had dinner with Luic and Alison. Luic is teacher from Quebec, a native French speaker. Alison is a social worker from British Columbia. We talked about a wide range of topics including the French language, homeless and the opioid problem, teaching/learning in a professional setting, accents, travel cooking, and the best route to take on a touring bike to get across Los Angeles. I am usually pretty talkative, but the beauty of the surroundings and residual endorphins kicked in and made me an even more enthusiastic conversationalist than usual.

As I set up camp I was very happy to discover no forgotten items. The campsite had good enough cell service for cellular data, so I cozied up after dark and streamed and surfed my way to sleep under a canopy of giants.

Relive ‘Morning Ride’

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
08:21:56 hours	04:47:51 hours	55.71 mi.	11.61 mph	34.22 mph	1,804.46 ft.	1,865 kcal

Continue reading]]> As I prepared for my trip to northern California it seems like I went over my checklist about a dozen times. Each time I found something that I needed to pack or change. Somehow I ended up feeling confident that everything was good to go. I packed my bike and gear into a bike box I got from a local dealer (thanks, “Buy My Bikes” of San Juan Capistrano!). I shipped it using bikeflights.com, which always ends up saving me a chunk of cash when I ship my bikes. I sent it to the Travelodge in Eureka on Monday who said they would hold it for me. Even though the tracking confirmed it, I called the hotel and they confirmed that it arrived.

I work about 3 blocks from the airport I was departing from (Orange County / John Wayne / Santa Ana International Airport), and my flight left at about 4:30 PM that Friday. So I worked a half day and walked to the airport. Everything was going according to plan, amazingly. The flight departed on time and I was off.

The flight laid over in San Francisco International (SFO) for a while giving me time to eat dinner at the airport and have a look around. SFO was actually a pretty interesting place, at least the part if it that I was in.

The second small leg of the flight was delayed a few minutes but they made up for it, and the small jet was very comfy. One nice thing about smaller planes is that there are no middle seats. I had the window seat. When I was not talking to the golfer sitting next to me I was in awe of the view as the clouds swirled around the mountains below and sun set the rim of the sky ablaze in a fading orange band.

If there was any snag in the trip, it was surface transportation from the airport to Eureka. Lyft/Uber showed there was service at Arcata airport on their websites. But the app told a different story. When I got on the ground and tried to get a pickup, neither app showed any service available to the airport. Lyft showed that I had to be picked up a half mile away in the middle of nowhere. Something was not right. There were cabs waiting outside the tiny, quaint, cold, dark terminal. I think if I had hacked at if for a while I might have gotten Lyft service within an hour. Instead I decided to use the warm cab sitting curbside. It cost me a few bucks more than the fare than the Lyft app showed, but I did not trust the quoted fare at that point. I was happy to get a ride to my destination.

I checked into the hotel, carried my my bike box to my room and did a quick assessment of my gear. All was well. The box had taken a few hits but it did what it was supposed to do and protected my gear inside. I waited until the morning to fully assemble the bike. I unpacked only what I needed to get comfortable for the evening and slept well.

Continue reading]]> My tour of Northern California starts in less than a week. I will be riding from Eureka to Oakland along Pacific Coast Route. It will take me through Redwood forests, right along the coast, across the Golden Gate Bridge, through San Francisco, and finish with a ferry ride to Oakland. I will be flying to Eureka and meeting my bike there which I will ship separately. Then I will return home with my bike on an Amtrak train to southern California.

Of course, I have a picture of all my gear, organized and ready to go! I have been doing my usual over planning that I do for these trips. Doing research and organizing is my way of dealing with the excitement and anticipation that comes before each trip, but sometimes I go to far. By that I mean that I can get a little pre ride burnout due to all the planning and the ride itself seems a little anticlimactic. But that is just an illusion. As soon as I start the ride I realize that all the preparation in the world is no substitute for the actual experience, and over preparing takes nothing away from the ride.

I also prepare a lot because I am a working stiff. I get a few weeks of vacation a year and I need to optimize it for family trips, romantic trips, emergencies, etc. So my bike tours are not done in what I call “nomadic” or “vagabond” mode. By nomadic I mean the kind of tour were you have a general idea of where you are going and how long it will take, but not a strict schedule. I look forward to the time when I can take a month or two and wander around the country. But for now I want to get the most I can out of one week. So I have identified all the sights I might want to see. I have my route and campsite or hotel picked out for each day. And I have made all the reservations I might need, all ahead of time.

This year’s trip has encountered some adversity already. I had originally planned the trip for the dates of May 17-27. That was the week before Memorial Day and give me a holiday to use instead of using a day of vacation. But, ah, the best laid plans of mice and men. Those original dates should have been well past the end of the rainy season along the route. As those dates were coming near I was watching the long term weather forecast just in case. Over planning, remember? And this year some late season rain hit Northern California. It was not a major storm, but I would have ridden most of the week in conditions ranging from drizzle to heavy rain.

So I was faced with a decision. I could take a little extra rain gear and go, or I could reschedule. My decision to delay the trip ultimately came down to the nomadic vs. limited time format. With only one week to ride, I wanted to make the experience as enjoyable as possible. Were I in nomadic mode I would have taken a week of rain in stride as part of the bigger adventure. Plus, I also came down with a nasty infection the day I would have left. I spent a few days running a fever and taking antibiotics. So the decision to delay turned out to be a good one.

I have changed my gear around a little since my trip last year. I decided to allow myself to carry a little extra weight and I got a 2 person tent instead of a 1 person as well as a few other luxuries. Among them is a GoPro camera, and I plan to take some videos of my travels. I am pretty excited about adding them to my blog. And just like last year, I plan to make blog entry for each day of the trip. I will post them at some point after the ride is over. My blogs will include my routes, recommendations and other information. I hope other riders find it all useful and entertaining. Time will tell!