Continue reading]]> The last day of my tour began at the very full Carpinteria State Beach campground on a Memorial Day weekend Sunday. I had a short ride planed for that day that would take me to the Amtrak station in Oxnard where I would ride my bike right onto the train then be dropped off just a few miles from home. So I was in no hurry around the campsite that morning. I wanted to explore the boardwalk trails around the park and grab some breakfast before I loaded the bike.

It took me a while to pack because of all the activity at the campsite. Kelson and his wife were super friendly and recommended an easy dirt road alternate to the official Pacific Coast Route. The young Latino bicycle gang, as I affectionately thought of them, got up surprisingly early and were abuzz about their riding and plans. I met an older guy riding an eBike who I had to break off my conversation from. We had a lot in common and I think we could have talked all morning.

The Shakedown Of My Electrical System

I made another side trip before getting started on my main ride, stopping at a nearby plaza for supplies and enjoying a coffee at Starbucks while I charged my battery pack. My original plan was to rely on solar power and a battery pack to keep my phone and Garmin GPS charged. But the early part of my ride was too cloudy for my solar panel. And I had no good way to mount the panel, either, it kept rolling off of my bags. And I had pared away a lot of extra fabric from the panels to save weight, which left them flimsy and ready to fall apart from all of the shaking around as I rode. I also brought a nice battery pack that was designed to charge and discharge fast, using Quick Charge 3.0 (QC3.0) My phone was also QC2.0, still very fast, though my Garmin had no fast charge feature. I also brought a wall charger that could charge all 3 items – the battery, phone, and Garmin, all at once at full speed. So in about an hour I could get enough of a charge for a couple of days. There are even faster batteries coming to market now called Graphene. I even tried one and it was great, it could charge in less than 30 minutes, but it had a small capacity so I returned it (gotta love Amazon). I hope that by my next ride they will have evolved a little more. As for my solar panel, I actually threw it out a day earlier, it was about to fall apart. For tours that go through mostly civilized areas I am going to use just an external battery and charger from now on. On my 9 day tour I only had to take 2 extended breaks to charge my battery and I was never close to running out of power so I could gotten by with less charge time.

After my trip to the plaza I returned to the campground, packed and headed out on Kelson’s dirt road alternate. It was a great recommendation. My only disclaimer for other riders is that you must be able to handle some off road riding with your heavily laden touring bike. I am a mountain biker too, so I was fine with it.

The dirt alternate dumped me right into another segment of the ride that the locals were very excited about, and I soon found myself sharing their excitement. It was a relatively new section of dedicated bike lane starting at Rincon Road and going south for about 4 miles. Before that trail was built you had to ride on the freeway; there was no alternate route. The trail was built on the ocean side of the road with a great view all the way. And in my case the conditions also included a glorious dose of perfect sunshine, cool temperatures and a tailwind. I watched people flying down the freeway in their cars and wondered how many realized what they were driving past as they were all sealed up in their climate controlled interiors. If riding a bike could somehow be made like this all the time everywhere you went I seriously don’t think any able bodied people would ever use a car.

From there there the route wound its way along the coastal railroad and back and forth under the freeway version of the road (it is kind confusing, yes), then it stayed on the coast side for a long way, flanked on the right by a series of campgrounds/RV parks that clung to the small area between the road and the ocean. And they were all packed that day with huge RVs and people milling around them and in the mostly empty road. The road ended for motor vehicles and continued as a bike trail, delivering me to the outskirts of the city of Ventura.

Bike travel during a busy weekend means crowded roads, campgrounds and everything else. But it also means more to see and do. I met a lot more fellow bike travelers and rode past the start/finish line of a running event.

I met Trey and Hilton in Ventura. Their ride had started in Montana and they had arrived in Ventura by way of the state of Washington. Hilton was going to San Diego and Trey to Argentina. But their paths were separating just 10 miles down the road, they were clearly not looking forward to it.

I left the coast in Oxnard and headed inland toward the train station. The scenery changed from the exotic views of the coast into more familiar suburban neighborhoods, industrial parks and shopping centers. I thought it would help me ease back into reality, but if anything it had the opposite effect. My ride was ending and the reality of it came crashing in on me. My tour had a story arc all its own. I started with more insecurity than I realized. I faced an early go/no-go decision. And I shortened a couple days because I was so tired. But it ended with confidence in my touring skills, increased endurance and a state of endorphin induced euphoria. I thought I would have had my fill after all that riding, but the bigger part of me was just getting started. I finished strong and was sorry to see the ride end. I leaned my bike against a fence at the train station and reflected on the moment. I decided to designate that moment as the end of the ride so that I could make a clean break and begin the process of returning to my regular life, which I could see was going to take some time.

Part of me wanted to deal with the process by looking ahead to my next tour. I would do that in due time, but I did not let myself do that just yet. I wanted to continue to savor what was left of this adventure.

In the days that followed I had a hard time focusing on work or anything that resembled responsible adulthood. I knew that I needed to attend to things like my job, paying bills and maintaining stuff around the house. The process took time, but after a week or so I adjusted. And THEN I started to plan my next tour.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
02:48:25 hours	02:17:43 hours	28.20 mi.	12.29 mph	22.82 mph	367.45 ft.	674 kcal

Continue reading]]> Waking up at my campsite at Refugio State Beach on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend was a nice experience. This was day 8 of my 9 day bike tour. It had only taken me a few days to shrug off the hectic life of suburbia and work and embrace a nomadic existence.  I was already starting to feel a little melancholy about the end of my ride, but I didn’t devote much time to that.

The Hike or Bike campsite where I was staying faced a beach cove with only a narrow road between the campsites and the sand. My tent was pitched under the cover of a stand of tall trees and only a few steps away from the super clean restroom/shower building. The nearby playground had a children playing, there were dawn patrol surfers on the edge of the cove and pelicans glided low over the ocean in small groups. The low morning sun was bathing a crystal blue sky in shades of golden orange morning light. The morning was a work of art and the rest of the day would be as well.

But it was not totally perfect. Whereas previous days brought challenges of dampness and sand, Refugio greeted me with wind, including some pretty big gusts. I had to find rocks to put on my loose gear so it wouldn’t blow away. And not small rocks, either. It was not windy enough that I had to guy out my tent, but I probably should have just in case.

Nick, a local from Santa Barbara had shown up late the night before. I was out like a light by 9 pm like most nights so we hadn’t talked much. Nick said it was always windy at Refugio, but it was a windier than normal that day. As usual with fellow riders, Nick and I compared notes about how to pack and travel on bikes, our future plans and how we wished trips like this would never end.

I made breakfast, packed and started my ride.  I quickly discovered that the wind was a microclimate. As I rode up from the beach to the road above the wind died down and turned into a steady tailwind that stayed with me all day. The day just kept getting better and better!

There is a dedicated bike trail between Refugio and El Capitan State Beaches, but part of it was closed because the ground under it is falling down a cliff to the beach. I rode the closed section but don’t count on it being there in the future. At El Capitan you have to enter the freeway legally and ride the shoulder for about 7 miles until you can exit. It is a choke point for cyclists in both directions: there is no alternate route to the freeway. The tailwind helped, but I felt bad for the riders I saw on the other side of the road facing the freeway and a headwind.

Santa Barbara: A Tale Of Two Bike Trails

The ride through Santa Barbara was mostly world class bike lanes and classic beach scenery.  The Cabrillo Bike Route (CBR) is well designed and gives you a wonderful tour of Santa Barbara. But before you start CBR (coming from the north) there is a bike path on Hollister Road. Excuse me while I rant, I will get back to the awesome ride, I promise.

The bike lane on Hollister is just a big sidewalk that bikes are allowed to ride on. It is best for casual riders out for a little neighborhood spin but not useful for bike tourers, commuters, or people trying to get anywhere by bike. There are several reasons for this:

• It is paved with concrete which is full of seams and bumpy, even when smoothed out as required by state law.
  
• It is set back from the road so cyclists are less visible to drivers, especially at intersections.
• Cars must stop in the path of cyclists in order to see cross traffic.
• Cyclists must stop at every intersection, whether there is a sign or not, in order to be safe.
  
• It is only on one side of the road so it carries two way traffic.

A better design for traveling cyclists is a combination of a dedicated sidewalk, a wide bike lane and a painted, hash marked buffer zone like we have in the area where I live. That puts cyclists on asphalt, separate from pedestrians, buffered from traffic, visible to cars at intersections and able to proceed just like cars. The sidewalk does not have to be huge because it also benefits from the bike buffer zone and pedestrians are protected from cyclists by the curb.

It was not a big deal: I was only on that section for 2 miles and there was room for me on the road. I am only thread jacking my own blog because I think it is an interesting lesson for other cities thinking about expanding cycling infrastructure.

The transition to the CBR was a welcome change. The trail started by winding its way through the University of California Santa Barbara (UCSB) campus. I was there on a quiet Saturday so it was like I had the place to myself.

After making its way across UCSB, the trail continued to the pier area and along the beaches. There were lots of beach cruisers on the route, and I enjoyed riding at their pace and keeping my distance from them. The bike trail on a busy Saturday is about sightseeing, not setting a personal best time.

CBR eventually ended and I continued on a frontage road that kept me off of the freeway, but barely.  The world around me was slowly changing from the wide open spaces of the Big Sur coast and wine country to the crowded environs of Southern California on Memorial Day weekend. At first I did not like it, I felt like like all of those people were encroaching on my space. And my space had grown very large over the previous days. But I reached my destination for the night: Carpinteria State Beach, where I could relax and adjust.

As I checked into the Hike or Bike campsite I found myself getting grumpy. It was about the crowds. I sat down and readjusted my attitude. Instead of feeling hemmed in by the crowds I refocused got caught up in the excitement of being around everyone. It really is possible to control your experience of things, but sometimes you have to become your own therapist to do it.

At the campsite I met a young family from Germany who were on an extended parental leave for 2 months. They were touring in a huge RV (bigger than anything you would see in most of Europe they told me). The forced beer and salad on me which I tried to resist. But I failed. I baby sat little Philippe who let me hold him without fussing while Mom and Dad packed to leave. Even after knowing them for only a short time it was hard saying good bye as they piled into their RV. I guess I was having a more emotional day than I realized at the time.

Carpinteria State Beach was packed for Memorial Day to the surprise of no one. Kelson from Goleta was fellow cyclist who was later joined for the night by his wife and child. A group of 4 very enthusiastic Latino riders from Los Angeles were there. Dennis, a Navy Veteran joined us late and he marveled at how rare our first names were. There were so many groups that I could not meet them all. And several seemed to want to stay apart from the big group, which I could empathize with because that is how I felt when I arrived.

The campground was near the old town downtown area. I played tourist and enjoyed exploring Laughing Buddha Thrift shop.

I got some supplies for the stay. One of the things I have a hard time living without is ice. But that was easily available at nearby convenience stores so a splurged and filled up a cooler, pretending to be car camping for just a while.

As usual, the physical effort and the emotional ups and downs of the day left me fulfilled and tired early in the evening. I relaxed around the campsite and introduced myself to people until after dark. The nice thing about being in a Hike or Bike campsite is everyone else has had a similar experience, and we were all ready for sleep early after a day of riding.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
05:18:12 hours	03:36:23 hours	40.32 mi.	11.18 mph	30.20 mph	1,358.27 ft.	1,102 kcal

Continue reading]]> I awoke to the luxury of a hotel room on Friday, day 7 of my 9 day tour. I was enjoying camping every other night but the hotel was a nice change of pace. My room had clean clothes hanging over every available spot and I had leftovers from the meal at the restaurant in the hotel the night before waiting in the tiny refrigerator. As much as I was enjoying the hotel, the ride ahead was beckoning and I was too excited to have a lazy morning. I had ridden the Pacific Coast Route before but this time I was taking a new route through the wine country in this area.

Central Coast Outdoors (CCO), the company that shuttled me around the Highway 1 closure, recommended riding through wine country. My reaction was “Wine country? That is farther north, right?” Wrong. There is a huge wine country south of the central coastal region and it is growing fast. And it is beautiful country to ride through.

My route that day was the longest riding day of my tour. I planned to do 60+ miles of riding and 3000+ feet of elevation gain. Fortunately I was “riding myself into shape” as fellow tourers call it and I felt ready for it. I had also changed my destination at the recommendation of Mandy from CCO. There were 3 campgrounds to choose from on my way into Santa Barbara: Giaviota, Refugio and El Capitan. I was originally going to stay at Gaviota, but I changed my destination to Refugio State Beach for that day, adding some miles to my ride.

I got an early start as usual. The weather was sunny and cool all day, perfect for riding. Santa Maria is a small town and the hotel was on its outskirts, so I was quickly riding in a rural setting. The early route centered around Foxen Canyon Road. The roads I took much of the day did not have a bike lane, but traffic was almost non existent. The few cars that passed me were happy to give me a lot of room.

In the middle of rugged back country with no gas stations, traffic lights or even intersections I encountered a wine tasting location. It was basically a nice shed set up in the front of a home. Then another. Then a huge fancy one.

The never ending row of vineyards ended as I rode into Los Olivos. It was one of many towns I rode through that I had never heard of before, but was a pleasant surprise. Not knowing if there would be another good stop, I got some important supplies for the day while I was there.

Somewhere in town the route turned into an actual official named bike lane which was a pleasant change. It wound its way along more charming back roads on its way to the mother lode of all tourism in the area: the city of Solvang. It is known for its Danish themed architecture and loads of great options for eating, drinking and sightseeing. And, for us cyclists, the annual Solvang Century ride.

I left Solvang by taking Alisal Road. It is a gorgeous narrow road out of town and it cuts off much of the riding on US-101, which is basically a freeway open to bikes. But any ride south from Solvang involves a lot of climbing. It is not shown as a through road on all maps, but Alisal does connect as a bike route to Old Coast Highway and US-101 as I write this, even if your map shows the road closed to cars. I made the big left turn to get on US-101 and I was rewarded with a long steady descent to the coast. If you look at that stretch and notice a tunnel, be aware that the tunnel is only on one side of the freeway, the northbound side, and it is an uphill grade. There was no tunnel on the southbound side where I was. I pushed past Gaviota and on to Refugio. There is a very short bridge on that section with no shoulder for bikes so you have to get out in the lane. It had loads of “Share The Road” warning signs with big pictures of bicycles on them, but I got honked at anyway, which actually amused me more than anything.

The conditions in Refugio were windy, but I found out that was pretty normal. The campground has a small store with very limited hours, i.e. it was not open at all while I was there. The shower facilities were very nice and right next to the Hike or Bike campsite. The campground was full with family reunions and large groups camping together. I was able to score some ice and get a few family history lessons about camping in Refugio.

After settling in I was joined by Nick at the Hike or Bike area. We exchanged notes about camping equipment and I let him know I thought it would be very nice to live close to all the great campgrounds in the area. It was good to know that it was not lost on Nick, who clearly enjoyed it.

As usual I was ready to go to sleep as soon as the sunset permitted it. I definitely did not wear out any of the batteries in my headlamp. Falling asleep to the sound of waves crashing on the beach after a long day of riding and great experiences seemed to be a formula for a good night’s sleep, indeed.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
08:04:26 hours	05:47:13 hours	67.18 mi.	11.61 mph	36.24 mph	3,375.98 ft.	2,014 kcal

Continue reading]]> As I have been blogging about my California coastal bike tour after the fact, my blogs apparently caught the attention of Jim Fullerton of  Adventure Bike Touring.

It is worth checking it out.

A sample of the scenery on my coastal tour.

Among the wide variety of content on the website is a section of Podcasts. They are interviews Jim does under the heading of “Why I Bike”. Jim is a great interviewer with a wonderful relaxed style. He reached out to me and asked me if he could interview me about my tour for one of his podcasts. I was very flattered and accepted his offer. Jim’s interview with me is located here, and I have embedded it here as well. Jim also deserves credit for some good editing. I took the interview on a day when I was distracted at work and I thought I did a pretty terrible job of responding to his questions and staying on topic. But by the time Jim did a little cutting and pasting, the interview came out much better. Thanks to Jim for that!

Continue reading]]> Day 5 of my 8 day tour would be a long ride through a wide variety of California terrain, but it started with me fixing my kitchen.  Quick backstory: I thought my fuel canister and was empty after very little use, so I pitched it and bought a new one. I was pretty excited about cooking bacon for breakfast and I set up the stove with a new full canister. But to my dismay I still got no flame. There was not much that could go wrong with my simple little titanium camping stove. After turning it on and off a few times I blew air through the small tube that goes from the canister to the stove. That fixed it. The canister that I threw away probably still had a lot of fuel left. More on my stove when I review it in a separate blog, but I was able to forgive it and I still give it a thumbs up.

The bacon cooked up fine once I got my stove working again.

As I was breaking camp I met Colette who was car camping next to me. And by car camping, I mean sleeping in her Honda Civic. She was a wonderful woman who had a heavy French accent even after living in the USA for 45 years. She adventured a lot and often alone.

She shared a great story with me: she had a daughter who never called (nope, I have never heard that one before). One of the few times she did call was while Colette was out adventuring. Colette came home to find police all around her property, investigating the missing persons report that her daughter had filed on Colette when she could not reach her mother. Her daughter had panicked and presumed the worst. It only showed how little she knew about how her mother lived. I was not sure if the story was a comedy or tragedy, but Colette told it well.

And before I could ask her, Colette said she thought it was silly that women were so afraid of travel and adventuring alone. She had done it all her life and had only one incident where she thought someone was following her, but she wasn’t sure and nothing came of it.

Colette was a seasoned adventurer and a great storyteller.

I finished packing and took some time to explore the beach were I was camping. It was a mix of sandy bluffs, rugged ground cover and shifting wetlands. It was very photogenic under the morning clouds. I returned to my bike, brushed off the sand and started my ride on the dedicated bike trails around Morro Bay.

The beach that I was camping on was a complex, beautiful dune ecosystem

A view back where I had ridden the day before.

My home for a day: RVs and the neighborhood that overlooked the campground and beach. 

A tree covered trail through Morro Bay.

There was a fairly extensive network of trails in the area.

I followed the official Pacific Coast Route. From Morro Bay it turned inland and became a divided highway. Even the most scenic route can’t avoid some amount of highway riding. The steady uphill grade went on for miles and ended in the beautiful town of San Luis Obispo. I stopped for a coffee in a cute business district.

I chose to get a coffee at from those other guys.

San Luis Obispo is referred to as SLO, and has a charm all its own.

After SLO I rode back to the coast, sort of by surprise, I had not looked at my route that much and was not expecting any ocean views. The greater Pismo Beach area is a classic eclectic group of beach towns and the ride through them was fun and easy. The downtown pier area was under construction while I was there. I wound my way through it and across Pismo Creek, which formed a wetlands in the middle of town.

The coast along Pismo Beach had a little of everything, including suburbia with a view.

The coast wraps around to form San Luis Obispo Bay.

Pismo Creek meanders through town, creating a coastal wetlands that the area has grown up around.

Next is a route recommendation for Pacific Coast Route riders.  As you leave Pismo Beach and ride through Arroyo Grande, stay on the marked route.  There is a sign that points you down Halcyon Road as an alternate route.  It cuts a corner off the route and saves you some distance so it is very tempting. Halcyon looks great at first but it ends with no shoulder, very steep, and very busy. I have taken that cut off twice now due to that sign, and I think it is a bad idea.

Resist the temptation to cut a corner on Halcyon Road.

But I survived Halcyon Road and the rest of the day was farm country roads. I shared the road with huge farm trucks, slow tractors and clumps of dirt  while negotiating small shoulders and rough pavement. The scenery was classic rural farmland with open fields, storage silos, heavy farming equipment and the like. It was an abrupt change from previous days’ riding along the coast.

Much of the day looked like this.

My ride that day ended in Santa Maria.  It is the big city in a farming area, so it reminded me of where I grew up. I stopped for supplies and made my way to the hotel I where would be stay that night, the only night I would spend at a hotel during my 8 day tour. I could not believe how happy I was to see it, I was ready for a little extra comfort that night.

When I called ahead to make reservations, the concierge assured me that it was okay to bring my bike right into the hotel and into my room. They said they got a lot of cyclists there that were riding the coastal route. I could see why: the nearest campground is pretty far away in Lompoc and did not fit my schedule. The Radisson is only a few bucks more than the bargain motels, so I splurged. I was happy I did.

The Radisson Santa Maria was a sight for sore eyes. And sore butt, legs, back, etc. I may have cried a little when I pulled in.

Not the usual place to park my bike, but the hotel was good with it.

I ate dinner at the nicer restaurant at the hotel with white tablecloths and everything. Such decadence! I would be back to camping and cooking soon enough. Pampering myself for a night was a wonderful change of pace and recharged me for the rest of the ride. I concluded that when I do a multi-week tour someday I will stay at hotels one or two nights a week.

I think there was chicken somewhere under all that deep-fried goodness. When in farm country, eat comfort food, I say. I had enough leftovers for breakfast, and the room had a fridge and microwave.

The hotel serves the airport. It is next to the tarmac and I had a view of it from my table at dinner. There was zero activity while I was there, however.

I cleaned myself and my clothes thoroughly, using the sink and tub to clean my clothes. I hung everything all over the room to dry, feeling confident they would actually get really dry that night after so many nights outside in foggy damp conditions. I must have been in “roughing it” mode, I never even thought of using the laundry at the hotel. I put all of my electronics on real wall chargers too, another luxury. And as I did on most nights, I fell asleep quickly, early and well, ready to continue my ride into Southern California wine country the next day.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
06:35:28 hours	04:50:20 hours	57.81 mi.	11.95 mph	36.91 mph	1,837.27 ft.	1,563 kcal

Relive ‘Morro Strand to Santa Maria’

Continue reading]]> I awoke Wednesday morning on day 5 of my 8 day bike tour of coastal central California, greeted by the sound of the waves crashing on the cliffs below my tent at Kirk Creek campground. The morning weather was very damp fog, classic Big Sur, so my gear was pretty wet but manageable.

I was on a schedule that day. I would ride up to the closure on Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) at Gorda, closed due to the Mud Creek slide, and meet a shuttle that would take me around the closure and drop me off on the other side. It would take me about an hour to ride to Gorda. The shuttle ride would take 3 hours, then I had 45 miles of riding to finish the day. It would be fast with a big descent followed by flat roads and a good tailwind. I needed to stop in the biggest town of the day, Cambria, for supplies. My schedule would be tight but I refused to stress about it and just take it as it happened. I packed up and said good-bye to the few fellow campers that were awake that early and I was on my way.

The road from Kirk Creek to Gorda had very few cars on it, and the skies were clearing up a little.

As I neared Gorda the clouds broke up and let some glorious sunshine through.

My shuttle passed me a couple of miles before Gorda. The driver, Mandy recognized me from my description and pulled over. We introduced ourselves and I had her drive ahead as I rode the rest of the way. I was not going to miss the chance to ride PCH as an abandoned road.

Mandy of Central Coast Outdoors was my shuttle pilot.

Mandy was a friendly and knowledgeable host. I tried to help as much as I could but she insisted on lifting my bike onto the roof of her car, and she remarked on how light my bike was for a touring bike. She had shuttled many touring bikes as a tour guide, but she said mine was among the lightest. She probably says that to all the bikers. We agreed that we liked the lighter style better.

Yes these are dollars per gallon prices for gas, and premium is $7.399 per gallon.

Whenever I stop in Gorda I take a picture of gas prices at the pump for fun. I usually post it to Facebook and freak people out. It may be the highest price gas in the country, but I have no problem with this. Getting gas there would be expensive. And you don’t need to fill up. A few gallons will get you to more affordable gas. And simple supply and demand is a great thing. The gas station there could lower prices and people might buy more, but they may just not want to hassle with getting more gas. It is up to the vendor how they want to manage supply, and prices are a natural, bureaucracy free and easy way to control it.

No one else signed up for the shuttle so it was just Mandy and me for the ride. I learned that Mandy was in the process of stepping down from a leadership role of an environmental organization. I never got around to asking her which organization, I was too interested in hearing her talk about the various birds, deer and fish in the area and the efforts of the organization to restore and protect wildlife.

We got delayed by the traffic at the “Lightning in a Bottle” music festival. Had I known that The Glitch Mob and Emancipator were there I might have considered checking it out. Mandy eventually cut around the traffic that had backed up onto the main road. But with the delay, the longish ride ahead of me, and the need to get supplies, I made the decision to have her drop me off in the lovely coastal town of Cambria rather than drive back up the coast to the other side of the slide. It cut out about 20 miles of riding, and my body was telling me that it needed an easy ride that day. The next day would be my longest day with the most climbing and didn’t want to push it. I missed part of PCH with low traffic, but I did not regret the decision to take it easy that day.

I opted to get dropped off in Cambria and continue my journey from there.

While in Cambria I needed to find another fuel canister for my stove and I wanted to stock up for dinner.  I got recommendations from Mandy about where to get what I needed.

Cambria is a pretty little village and the most civilization I had encountered in a couple of days.

The food was easy. I got the biggest deli sandwich ever at Sandy’s Deli and stashed it away for later. The fuel was another matter. I needed an isobutane canister, which have many advantages, but ease of finding replacements is not one of them. You pretty much have to go to a dedicated camping store. Though you might find one at a hardware store that has a few camping supplies, like the Cambria True Value store.  It was a large canister but I could hardly be choosy in my situation.

I came upon the tiny village of Harmony just a few miles down the road. I took Mandy’s advice and stopped there. I have passed it many times, laughing at the posted population of 18 and never thinking about stopping. It is worth it for the stunning glass shop alone. On a weekend you could also check out the dairy and ice cream truck, a pottery shop and a “visitors center” with free coffee.

This is almost all of Harmony, CA. There is a winery too.

The glass blowing shop featured everything from small trinkets to museum quality artwork.

The stork in a nest was the centerpiece of the main room. It and its nest were all glass, of course.

The shop was overflowing with beautiful glasswork.

The workshop was in the back.

Even the entry was full of whimsical bits of hand blown glass work.

Sadly the ice cream truck was closed. I was really in the mood for some right about then too.

I continued south. The scenery was rolling grassy hills and ocean views. Morro Rock was visible most of the time, and I featured it in many of my pictures.

You might be able to barely make out Morro Rock on the left.

The grasslands intermingled with coastal wetlands in many places.

I decided to err on the side of too many pics of Morro Rock.

The coast goes through a  transition in this area. It still has the rocky features like Big Sur to the north, but scaled down.

Like Harmony, I had driven by Cayucos many times and not stopped. Staying with my plan, I pedaled slowly through the lovely little town. It had a pier, a beach and a quaint downtown area. I stopped at the local liquor store. It can be hard to find the right size bottle of Jack Daniels when you are riding, but Paul’s Liquor Store, while simply named, had what I needed.

Ocean Avenue in Cayucos is hard to describe without saying “cute” more than once because it is so cute.

The beach is offers a great wrap around view of the bay. It had a natural look with driftwood, kelp and lots of footprints.

I moved on from Cayucos but had one last look back.

The homes along the beach created a gorgeous scene.

I arrived at my destination for the day with Morro Rock still serving sentry duty in the bay.

Morro Strand was an interesting campground. It did not have Hike or Bike sites, so I reserved a tent site for full price. The spot I selected was as close to the ocean as I could get, with just a low bluff between me and the bay.  It gave me some awesome scenery but it was not without issues. My campsite was 100% sand.  So it was hard to pitch my tent and keep my gear clean. And many people thought this was a nice view, including the neighborhood that was only a few hundred yards away, perched above the campground.  They looked over the campground as part of their ocean view. And many of the homes were all windows on the side facing the us.  I just pretended they weren’t there. The campground had no showers, but they did have an enclosed bathroom with flush toilets and sinks. Omitting showers seemed odd. The campground seemed to be designed for RVs with tent sites being an afterthought.

A campsite on the beach.

After setting up camp I rode around the area for yet more supplies and sightseeing. The summer days were long, and I found myself going down with the sun. I feel asleep early and slept well once again, ready for the next day of my tour.

An enormous deli sandwich and some locally procured wine were a great way to end the day.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
01:00:30 hours	00:55:17 hours	9.06 mi.	9.83 mph	31.54 mph	744.75 ft.	340 kcal

Relive ‘Kirk Creek to Gorda’

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
02:41:11 hours	01:41:41 hours	20.37 mi.	12.02 mph	34.90 mph	787.40 ft.	1,241 kcal

Relive ‘Cambria to Morrow Strand’

Continue reading]]> My bicycle tour of the coast of California continued into its 4th day on a Tuesday. That put me right in the heart of a work week, beyond the feeling of a mere three-day weekend, and firmly into a vacation adventure frame of mind. My ride that day would take me from Pfeiffer Big Sur campground to Kirk Creek campground, which is a bit of a spoiler since I started the day not sure where I would end it.

I made breakfast in the vestibule of my tent, once again using its protection as a great way to get an early start without stepping out into the cold. The neighboring redwoods seemed to think their needles were a good accompaniment to any recipe and I had to go to extra lengths to keep from having them as an ingredient in my omelette.

Powdered Ova Easy eggs, pre cooked chicken sausage, coffee and redwood needles. What more could you want for breakfast?

After breakfast I went to the lodge and enjoyed a fancier cup of coffee, using the meager internet/cell service and charging my electronics. Michael and Yvonne, the staff at the lodge, were wonderful. We talked about Big Sur history, cycling stories, plans for the area, coffee-making tips, etc. Michael knew a lot about the history of the area and how it had changed over time. He took me on a tour of some of the pictures in the lobby, using them to explain how the bridge and road had changed over the years, how there used to be rooms in the lodge and other great local trivia.

Michael gave me an impromptu tour of the historic photos in the lodge .

Yvonne was very friendly and enjoyed talking about my travels and life at the lodge.

Back at the campsite, my bike touring neighbor Shane had changed his plan. Originally he was going to go for a hike that day. But instead he decided to do a local ride. He was traveling with a bike trailer and wanted to leave it behind for a day. His route would take him in the same direction as I was going, then riding up the challenging Nacimiento-Fergusson Road which was near at the campground I ended up staying at that night. It was sort of implicit that we would not ride together, clearly his pace was going to be faster than mine. For non cyclists this might seem a bit strange, but cyclists speeds can vary by a wide margin and you don’t presume to ask another rider to crawl along at your pace.

Shane, my neighbor at the campground, was good to go that morning too, but would end up back at the campground at the end of the day.

We took pictures of each other before we started riding.

I departed first so I knew we would see each other out on the road. The ride out of the valley was a long steady steep grade.  I was looking for the new bridge that was completed just a few months earlier after the collapse of an existing span. Its failure contributed to a situation where all roads into Big Sur became impassable and the town became isolated, creating an emergency. There are many bridges on the road, all with dates marked on them. There would only be one from the year before so I easily identified the new one. Construction was complete and the area was clear of equipment and returned to normal, all amazingly quickly.

This must be the new bridge that was built when the old one collapsed last year.

It was not long until Shane rode up effortlessly from behind. He was nice about it and slowed his pace to match mine for a while and we talked. Unfortunately, due to the long climb, I could not do a lot of talking. I think Shane could have delivered a State Of The Nation speech. Eventually we said good-bye  and hoped that our paths would cross again later that day, which they did ever so briefly as we passed each other going in opposite directions.

Traffic continued to taper as I went south, more as I passed each tourist destination. By the time I passed Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park traffic was getting downright sparse. The ride that day was pure, uninterrupted, classic foggy Big Sur coastal cliffs.

Many sections of the road were next to sheer drop offs to the ocean below.

The only place  for a cyclist to ride on a few sections was in the lane with cars. Fortunately traffic was low and visibility was good.

The rugged, steep cliffs afforded dramatic views mile after mile.

Big Sur revealing itself through the fog.

I could not help but park my bike here for a pic.

The road is visible on the upper left, and offered little margin for error in many places.

The occasional pocket beach.

I was not decided on where to stay that night: Plaskett Creek or Kirk Creek campground. Plaskett Creek had running water and showers that Kirk Creek lacked. But Kirk Creek is the only campground on the ocean side of Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) in the Big Sur area, offering a more intimate relationship with the coastline as you camp. And you could buy water by the gallon there, enough to drink, cook, clean and bathe.

I stopped at the little restaurant in Lucia and I was pleased to see they had expanded their small market. They way I reduced my load was to buy just enough food late in the day for that night and the next morning. Being unaware of this well situated market, I stocked up at the Big Sur Deli near the beginning of the ride and carried my supplies with me all day. The market in the remote area is good news for cyclists and hikers. They had food, ice and other vital necessities. Like a good wine selection.

I ended up deciding to camp where I always do: Kirk Creek. In the words of real estate agents everywhere: location, location, location.

Camping on the cliffs over the Pacific Ocean was an experience I did not want to pass up.

While I set up camp I met Tom and Michael. Tom was not a cyclist, but he was using the hike or bike area legally to get a first-come-first-served campsite the next day.  He was a sustainability engineer. I was very curious about what that meant, and he answered my questions. I learned a lot about his perspective and good stewardship of the environment even for big engineering projects.

Tom was meeting a group of other sustainability engineers who camped together at Kirk Creek every year. One of their college professors had started the annual event years ago. He had since passed away but the tradition carried on in his memory. The professor used to easily catch fish from the ocean on the shore below the campground during the trip to feed everyone, something that is not realistic anymore. The location and the changes in it in just a couple of decades served as inspiration to Tom’s and his fellow engineers.

Michael was a gifted musician traveling by bike with his guitar. He had arrived by descending the steep and twisty Nacimiento-Fergusson road and would continue to the north. He and Tom played guitar duets, we sang, I provided wine and whiskey and we watched for whales breaching in the ocean. You know, your every day chance meeting of strangers.

Michael and Tom, in concert at Kirk Creek.

The performance was worth more than one picture.

I got free internet from a guy who was traveling in his huge solar electric Mercedes Sprinter with  a Hughes Gen 5 Internet dish set up on a tripod outside. He had pitched a sign that said “Internet Cafe”. I asked him how much and he said it was a free, and he gave me his WiFi password. The van was a beauty and we talked about how it worked. He told me that had done an electric conversion on an old Chevy van and when Mercedes saw it they hired him to help them develop a solar electric Sprinter. The big beast was part of his compensation.

I went to prepare dinner that night but the flame on my camp stove fizzed out. I worked around it by changing my menu. I presumed, mistakenly, that the butane canister for my stove was empty, even though I had only used it a few times. More details on that in the next blog. I asked a few other campers if they had an extra butane canister. No one did, but every one I asked offered to lend me their stoves, which was wonderful. I planned to stop in Cambria the next day and buy a new fuel canister. In the mean time I threw out the canister I had, which I later realized was a mistake.

I climbed into my tent early as usual, falling asleep to the sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs below. I slept well in the fog of the coast, surrounded by fellow adventurers.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
07:41:32 hours	04:48:53 hours	46.73 mi.	9.71 mph	31.54 mph	2,211.29 ft.	1,370 kcal

Relive ‘Santa Cruz to Monterey’

Continue reading]]> Day three of my tour would be a relatively short ride from Monterey to Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. I liked that it would be a short ride so it would give me time to take lots of pictures of this very scenic area.

I got a late start due to all of my fraternizing with fellow riders at Veteran’s Park in Monterey. The ride into the park the night before was a nasty climb to the top of a hill. But the ride out of the park and back to Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) still managed to offer more climbing. I had skipped the scenic 17 Mile Drive the day before, but I did ride the last few miles of it that morning. It was not a classic coastal section, but it was as scenic as I remember it.

The two banana breakfast I had  at the campground was not going to sustain me for long. I stopped early in the day at the last plaza to offer any services until I would arrive in Big Sur later in the day.  I stop there on every trip I take in that direction no matter my mode of travel, be it by car, motorcycle or bicycle. The road around it was under construction and it made ingress and egress by bike a little interesting. I found a cute place for breakfast where the host seated me near an outlet so I could charge all of my accessories while I ate. The solar panel I brought was not helping much in the heavy cloud cover along the coast.

Café Stravaganza served up a wonderful and welcome hot breakfast, which was a nice upgrade from two bananas, to say the least.

The useless solar panels made me realize that I had had a change in my attitude about weather. My mood used to depend on it. If I did not get sunny, calm, temperate weather, I was disappointed. But on this trip I ran into a lot of cloudy damp weather, albeit no rain. And it did not put a damper on my spirits (pun intended). It was a very liberating change.

The local Post Office was close by and I stopped to ship back extra items that I did not need, including my CPAP machine and an extra water bottle mount. You can read about the dramas associated with each of those items in earlier blogs. After a quick stop at a market I continued south. Leaving that plaza is always a bit dramatic for me. I consider it an outpost, a last bastion of civilization, the beginning of the rugged section of Big Sur, even though you are still in Carmel for a short while and there are  good places to get supplies along the coast.

This beach was the last one I would see.  After this point I steadily climbed high above the ocean and the coastline became very rocky.

Peering through the trees, I could see that this cove is circled by beautiful homes set among the rocky cliffs.

PCH south of Carmel had less room on the road for bikes than I remember from my last trip. There are signs labeling the road as a bike route. And California has a relatively new law requiring motorists to give cyclists a minimum of 3 feet as they pass. But I think most people are unaware of the law. And it only helps so much on PCH. The law does not allow drivers to cross the double yellow line to give cyclists that space, but instead instructs drivers to slow down. On much of the coast there is no room to give cyclists that much space in the lane, there is nearly always a double yellow line, and almost no one slows down. So it was pretty much business as usual dicing it up with cars.

Traffic was light, but I had hoped that the closure on PCH farther to the south would reduce traffic more than it did. The number of cars did taper off as I went, and I was thankful for it. By traveling before Memorial Day, the number of large recreational vehicles (RVs) was also very low. RVs on that road can be pretty exciting as a cyclist.

The vistas grew as I continued along the Big Sur coast.

Fishing boats like the one on the left made their way along the rugged coastal shore.

Inlets like this were from streams and canyons that formed in the coastal hills and spilled out into the ocean.

A look at the coast ahead.

The iconic Bixby Creek Bridge. If there is one landmark that represents the Big Sur coast, this would be it. There are others tied for second place, all very close.

My bike needed a rest after all of the rolling hills of PCH.

I have traveled this coast many times by car, motorcycle and bicycle. It has been captured countless times in photographs and every conceivable artistic media. As I traveled along the road I got the surreal feeling of moving through a living painting or sculpture, becoming part of a piece of art myself. I imagined the hills rendered in brush strokes, the road portrayed in stippling, or the ocean as a large glass sculpture. I pictured myself from the third person, portrayed in the same media as my surroundings, the structure of bridges becoming rough welded brass, captured in perfectly lit black and white photography, or made abstract  in water-color. I have never seen cyclists traveling this road rendered artistically: they are always portrayed with simple photographs. But there must be an art catalog of Big Sur cyclists somewhere.

The cows of Big Sur never cease to fascinate me. Of all the places for a cattle ranch, this has to be one of the most unlikely.

The hill that stands apart from the coast is Point Sur, home of a state park this is only open by guided tour, featuring a lighthouse and part of what used to be a naval station, though there is a small naval facility still there.

This is what I call the gateway to Big Sur from the north. PCH veers inland behind the first row of coastal mountains into the valley where Big Sur is nestled.

The Big Sur River follows along PCH for a long way. If you are driving or heading north you might miss it. Its clear waters are filtered by the rocks and soil and the trees crowding its banks make a cool breezy canopy on even the hottest of days.

Big Sur River Inn and the shops around it are the first services available after leaving Carmel. They have a general store where I stocked up on wine and other necessities.

The sign welcoming me to the campground where I would spend the night.

BIg Sur River winds its way through the campground, having recovered from years of drought followed by a year of flooding.

Not every picture taken in the Big Sur area a work of beauty! I made short work of the carnitas wrap from the inn. I usually take pictures of my meals before I start eating them. But this time my appetite got the best of me, so you get to enjoy this lovely image of half eaten wrap. It tells a story nonetheless.

The only other person in the Hike or Bike area was Shane. I had expected to meet fewer cyclists as I got closer to the PCH closure. Shane was going south and turning back. That was an option for him because he lived not far to the north so it was an out and back ride. When I think about living in an area that I find so special I have mixed feelings about it. Would easy access to great experiences turn the exotic into the mundane? Or would my life be elevated by often having this kind of experience? I expect the former, but given the chance I would take the risk that it would be the latter.

I could have spotted Shane as a serious, strong rider even without the yellow shorts. But those clinched it.

Shane was quiet but we talked more as we got settled in. He was a very fit rider traveling with a two-wheel utility trailer and wanted to get bags for his bike instead. He had a lot of equipment questions and I was happy to talk tech about our bikes and gear. My old titanium Airborne Carpe Diem bike and bikepacking style bags garner a lot of attention. I think they also give me some cred so people listen to my advice and usually ask more as I tell them more.

Shane was staying at the park for a couple of days which seemed like a good idea. Of all the places I might spend extra time on the ride, Big Sur would be on the top of my list, but tied with a few others. I was already beginning to plan a return trip to the coast now that I felt confident in my gear and ability to accommodate my sleep apnea.

Big Sur was thankfully a dry environment. The dampness of Monterey had much of my gear soaking wet. My tent dried out fast, I set up a clothes line and took care of other housekeeping.  My sleep kit and I were getting along well. I fell asleep early and slept hard and long, which I ended up doing pretty much every night of my ride. And that was good, because the next day’s ride to Kirk Creek Campground started with a relentless climb out of the valley. But more on that in the next blog.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
06:18:07 hours	03:18:24 hours	33.82 mi.	10.23 mph	38.25 mph	2,483.60 ft.	1,241 kcal

Santa Cruz to Monterey

Continue reading]]> Day two of my trip began with my resolve that I would not put my head down and hammer out a fast ride, but instead take my time and stop to explore things that I saw along the way. My first chance to exercise that was only a few miles in as I passed Seacliff State Beach. It featured a pier with a sunken ship and the end. It is a concrete ship that its owners sunk at the end of the pier intentionally.

Stopping to have a look at the strange sunken ship and ride the bike trail at Seacliff State Beach.

The visitor center never opened while I was there, but it looked interesting and had a nice bike rack.

The trail followed the beach and had lots of picnic tables protected by awnings. I could not resist the chance to spend some time at one.

As I left the park I was joined by riders from an organized ride. I asked people what the name of the event was, but I could not understand what they were saying. It was the seven something ride maybe? I stayed with the ride for a long time. I was riding slower than everyone else and that gave me the chance to meet many of them.  A few recognized my bikepacking bags and touring set up and gave me a thumbs us or asked where I was going. Our paths finally diverged and I still had a lot of riding left.

I loved the contrast of the rural farmland with the exotic coast line with dunes and surf in the distance. My version of farmland comes from my days growing up in the Midwest with flatlands and crops as far as the eye could see in all directions. Seeing farmland on the coast with an ocean breeze blowing and set among a hilly landscape was a mix of worlds that did not seem to fit together, yet there they were. Seeing those worlds juxtaposed never stopped amazing me.

I originally had plans to make it to Cannery Row for lunch, but my stomach had very different ideas and I needed to eat way before that.  And the endless farmland offered little in the way of places to eat.

It is hard to make out in a picture, but the coastal dunes contrasted sharply with the farmland.

I gave in and stopped at the first fruit stand / gas station I saw. They had a small supply of a lot of things, as markets in the middle of nowhere often do, including enough for lunch. I refused to stand in the parking lot of a gas station and eat lunch, however. The nice woman at the counter told me there was a place with some picnic tables a few miles down the road.

I don’t know which place she was talking about because a few miles down the road was the lovely city of Moss Landing, and it offered many scenic spots to enjoy lunch. Highway 1 returned to the coast in this area with an ecosystem called a slough. Like some sort of coastal swamp, it is a delightful meeting of sand dunes, ocean surf, inland waterways, unique foliage, and marine mammals. It has its very own distinct exotic beauty among the many places I saw on my ride. I found a place near a marina to pull over and eat lunch.

The ocean meanders inland at Moss Landing, protected by coastal dunes, making a very scenic locale for marinas.

It was not the gourmet lunch I had planned, but I made changes to allow me to appreciate the places I came upon unexpectedly.

From Moss Landing the bike route turned  inland again and the coastal winds picked up. Sometimes a little in my favor, sometimes a bit of a headwind, they were nearly always from the side. And when the route turned directly into them my pace slowed down quite a bit, but thankfully that did not happen much. The route into Monterey turned into a dedicated bike path starting way outside of town, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, which was impressive and wonderful to ride.

The bike route appeared unexpectedly in the middle of farm country and appeared to go nowhere and not be used by anyone.

A closer look at the wind-swept areas of sand revealed that the trail had many users, even recently.

The route into Monterey continued on a bike path and offered delightful views of the shifting coastal dunes and delicate ecosystem. That is Monterey Bay in the distance.

The bike trail crests the dunes north of Monterey, affording big views of the coast and the bay.

The colors of the plants, the sand, the ocean and the sky are a characteristic of this area. And the coastal winds were literally in my face as I took it all in.

The path turned from a remote coastal route into heavily traveled urban trail pretty suddenly. And what a great route it was. It took me past all the main sights you might want to see in Monterey along the coast including Cannery Row, the Monterey Bay Aquarium and, of course Light and Motion bicycle lighting company. I received no promotional fees for this blog. But I would not object to it if I did.

I have been to this aquarium many times. It alone is worth the visit to Monterey.

I decided not to cook and I had a hankering for a big deli sandwich. After searching for delis I decided on International Deli in Monterey. When I got there I discovered it was an Iraqi deli, not the sandwich kind of deli I had in mind, but it had good reviews and looked wonderful so I rolled with it. I ordered the chicken shawarma because it looked great. I could not help but laugh to myself about feeling like Ironman.  I hate it when people make movie references I don’t know, so search for Avengers shawarma if you need to.  Once again I had crammed too much in the day so I decided to trim the 17 mile drive from my schedule.  I packed my shawarma away and made the big climb to Veteran’s Park so I could enjoy it at my campsite.  If you do the ride, make sure you fit the 17 mile drive into your schedule. I have seen it before so I was OK.

When I got  to the campground I saw lots of biker tents but no bikers. Some tents did have bikes next to them. It looked creepily abandoned. “Are they all homeless?” I mused to myself, but I knew better. I set up camp and enjoyed the chicken shawarma. I had asked for some extra veggies and they had obliged. Even though it had gotten tossed around a lot on the way to the campground, it was still wonderful.

I had about as much energy as the Avengers did when they ate their shawarma.

I settled in and it got dark early in the heavy overcast weather. The only lights I traveled with were a headlamp and the light on my phone. The headlamp had an unexpected effect. If you look into the woods as you are walking in the dark, the eyes of any critters looking at you shine back at you eerily. But, being critters, they don’t realize this and think they are being super stealthy and you can’t see them.  While walking to the showers after dark I had a creature of unknown species following me with its gaze for a while. It made me uncomfortable and I even tried to shoo it away. After amusing myself with a series of strange noises, it turns out the good old raspberry noise finally vexed whatever was stalking me and it scampered away.

I fell asleep hard before 9 pm. I heard some bikers arrive later and once again my eye mask and earplugs were very helpful. I was hoping to meet them in the morning.

I awoke well rested and realized I was sleeping well with my CPAP substitute breathing aids. This was a great development. I was concerned that I would not be able to sleep well with them and I might even have to cut my ride short. But that morning I committed to completing the ride as planned.

It was damp and cold: so damp it looked like it may have rained in the night, but if it did the noise of the rain on the tent was not enough to wake me. It always amazes how warm a tent will keep you given that it is only a couple of thin sheets of nylon. And my tent was a lightweight model with very thin nylon and it still kept me very cozy. I stayed in the protection of my vestibule to make myself a cup of coffee while the morning fog cleared up.

There is nothing like enjoying a hot coffee  sheltered by your vestibule. Bananas make a great culinary pairing too, BTW

All of us cyclists eventually came out of our tents to say hello. Alex was riding around the PCH closure via a route that included King City. I couldn’t talk him into splitting the shuttle around the mud slide with me. I later encountered him on Facebook. He continued to ride long after my one week trip had ended and he was posting real-time updates.

Michael was an eBike enthusiast and semi vagabond in my own words. He was touring on a utility bike that was his own custom eBike creation. I had experimented with making eBikes a long time ago. I was surprised how literate I still was. Mike and I talked a long time about the state of eBikes. When I told him that I was sleeping consistently without my CPAP machine, he gave me idea to ship the CPAP back home. I would have probably figured it out myself, but he probably saved me a couple of days of hauling it around.

Thaddeus, a total vagabond by his own admission, also joined us but declined to have his pic taken. I was not sure if Thaddeus was a nickname or not, but his off the grid lifestyle was fascinating. Tim the park ranger checked in trying to figure out who did not pay their $6 camp fee.

Alex was opting to take the inland route around the PCH closure.

Michael was touring on an eBike, something I have thought about doing, and I have built a similar cargo eBike, so we had a lot to talk about.

I had to tear myself away from the great conversation if I hoped to have a relaxed ride to Big Sur. I talked as I packed and wished everyone well as the conversations continued. Damp fog had given way to low clouds and it looked like a great day for a ride.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
07:41:32 hours	04:48:53 hours	46.73 mi.	9.71 mph	31.54 mph	2,211.29 ft.	1,370 kcal

Santa Cruz to Monterey

Continue reading]]> Day one of my tour turned out have many of the problems I was afraid it might have. But a defining trait of an adventurer is how you deal with the problems that will inevitably happen. If you react by wishing you had luxury accommodations, panicking or giving up, you are probably not an adventurer. But if you keep your wits about you, fix the problems with whatever duct tape and baling wire you have available, and proceed as best you can with a good attitude, then you show the traits of a true adventurous spirit. At least according to my not so humble opinion.

So where and when did the journey actually begin? It could have been when I stopped riding my touring bike as a commuter and started packing. It could have been before that, when I decided to do the ride. But for the sake of telling the story, let’s say it started in Long Beach, CA. My wife dropped me off at Long Beach Airport, a tiny international airport in the Los Angeles metro area. I had already shipped my bike: it was waiting for me in a box at a FedEx location close to my flight destination in San Jose, hopefully not damaged or lost in spite of what the tracking information told me. I was carrying a piece of bike luggage, a plastic bag of supplies, and I was wearing my travel/riding clothes and bike shoes. I did not want to deal with luggage, and my bike shoes with cleats were the only footwear I was bringing.

So when does a trip actually begin? This looks like good time and place to call it.

One item in my carry on luggage was a CPAP machine. Without it I don’t get deep sleep and eventually end up feeling like I have not been sleeping at all. I had hoped to use a substitute called Provent, which are fancy bandages to cover your nostrils. Carrying them instead of a big CPAP machine would have been a big win. But I tried the Provents again and they did not work for me like they used to. I was disappointed to have to carry the bulky machine and battery, but I had done it before on a bike tour. And I brought the Provents anyway.

But the problems that swirled around the CPAP machine had just started. After boarding the plane and getting comfortable, I mentally went over my checklist of what I had packed for the umpteenth time. I realized that I had forgotten one of the cables needed to run the CPAP machine. It was a small disaster. The pile of hardware I had packed to run the CPAP was useless without that cable. I began to break down the situation. There was no way to buy the cable I needed. Maybe I could make a replacement cable myself. I looked for electronics supply stores along my route. There were lots of permanently closed Radio Shack locations to choose from. I found a Fry’s Electronics, but there was no guarantee they would have the parts I needed to fabricate a replacement cable even after shopping them on-line.

I tried to relax and take things one step at a time so I would not get myself into such a terrible mood that I would not think clearly or enjoy whatever the trip turned into. The next point on the trip where I could do anything about this would be at the electronics store. I had done all I could for now. I managed to stop obsessing on the problem and enjoy the flight.

On the ground I call in a Lyft ride that turned out to be free after I applied the discount the airline gave me on it. My driver deposited me at the FedEx location which actually did have my undamaged bike in its possession. The small victory was good for my attitude.

The packing job I did on my bike worked and my bike arrived no worse for wear.

I used the packing area as a bike assembly area. While there, a fellow rider introduced himself. He told me he was planning to bicycle tour across Cambodia, Thailand, Australia, and New Zealand. He noticed my CPAP and told me he had a friend who rode and needed to use one.  Seeing me travel with a CPAP meant that he would not accept his friend’s excuse about not traveling with him because of his CPAP. I did not go into detail about the issue I was having with my machine for both our sakes. It took me a while but I was ready to go.

Good to go. Almost. Note the water bottle problem. If you miss it, it is understandable. I did.

Another small issue cropped up as I pushed the bike across the store. I had decided at the last minute to fit a water bottle cage and bottle on the bottom of my down tube. The problem is that there is only room for the smallest of water bottles that spot. The bottle I brought rubbed my front tire. After some consideration I decided to just throw the water bottle out. It was frustrating but I was already dealing with enough issues and the idea of trying to pack a water bottle in my luggage mostly just to keep from throwing it out was just too much to wrestle with at the moment.

But the problems just kept coming. I stood over my bike to get started and turned on the GPS to load my route for the day. I scrolled through the list of routes I had carefully crafted for each day. They were all there, except for my route for that day. I had made some small last minute changes to it,  I must have deleted it in my GPS without loading its replacement. And the day’s route was a tangle of interconnecting urban roads and paths, not a simple “ride down Highway 1”. But I had a backup plan: I used my phone as my GPS. The phone used a lot of battery power when in navigation mode so I might have to charge it mid day, but I could deal with that.

The electronics store was only a few blocks away. It took a while to find and select the odd parts. I decided to wait until I was in the campground with everything unpacked to make the cable.

The pieces I hoped would get my CPAP working.

The weather was beautiful: sunny and cool. I was excited by the first part of the ride because it was on a network of dedicated urban bike paths: Guadalupe River Trail and Los Gatos Creek Trail.

I had to ride a couple miles back to the airport to get on the Guadalupe trail. Mineta San Jose International Airport would be a great destination if you checked your bike in as luggage.

Navigating by phone was a bit of a pain. I did not have a good way to mount it where I could see it. I would look at it to get the next few turns, ride that far then look at it again. I made a few wrong turns that way but nothing terrible. And while I was on the main bike paths I just followed the signed route.

While riding the bike paths, especially through San Jose, I was completely amazed at the pedestrian traffic. There was a lot of it, but the crazy part was phone usage. Being as rational as possible about it, I estimate that out of hundreds of pedestrians I saw in the congested sections of San Jose, 95% of them were walking with their eyes down, locked on their phones, and that includes individuals, groups, people with dogs on leashes, etc. They were completely unaware of my presence on a trail where bikes were legal, I had to swerve all over the place to avoid them, often off of the trail and on the grass. It was a gorgeous sunny day and I suspect most were probably annoyed by the sun causing glare on their screens. We need to identify a thing called “distracted walking” on multi use trails. It is dangerous and rude. If forces other trail users to deal with whatever random things a distracted walker is doing. It is hard to deal with because the they don’t know what they are doing themselves. I was happy to get out of the crowded section of San Jose.

My route took me along a dirt section of Las Gatos Creek Trail. I later realized I could have been avoided much of it by riding the long way around a reservoir, but even my narrow 28c tires were OK there.

My failure to follow my GPS directions eventually led to a disastrous error. While riding a frontage road along highway 17, I decided the directions said to enter Highway 17 south at Bear Creek road. This was an error of epic proportions. Highway 17 is a freeway that has no shoulder on much of it, is extremely narrow, has high-speed traffic and has a concrete wall divider between the oncoming lanes. I entered on a section where I would be climbing and moving slow. I have ridden freeways before, even not so legal sections, but nothing like this. After riding for about a mile and a half with cars honking at me like crazy I pulled into a turn out and looked at my GPS. In a word I was screwed. I could not cross the road and go back the way I came due to the concrete wall and sheer amount of traffic. I could not go back the way I came because I would be riding head on into oncoming traffic with no shoulder. There was no way out of the turn out I was in: no roads or trails led away from it. And the route I wanted was back the way I came. Going forward would take me a long way off my route, even if I did want to brave it, which I did not.

As I was looking around the edges of the turn out for dirt paths and not finding one, I saw a highway patrol drive by. I slowly realized that they would be my only way out. I waited a while for another one to show up, but no luck. I finally gave in and called for rescue. I described my predicament to 911 and In relatively short order I met Office Booker (that is her real name, I am honestly not making that up) who showed up in a large SUV that had room for my bike in it just as I had requested. After telling her how happy I was to see her and thanking her profusely I told her that I just wanted off of that road, anywhere would do. I also told her I really just wanted back on the other side of the road to pick up where I left off.  We left the turn out and I expected her to just get off the next exit and wish me luck. But she made a pretty difficult U-turn on the road where the concrete wall had a gap and returned me to right where I said I wanted. I got no ticket for riding a bicycle on the freeway (they may have actually been legal there, the sign only said no pedestrians), no lectures about bicycle safety, none of that. She even posed for a picture. I pulled my bike out, unable to thank her enough, and continued on the correct route. Mostly anyway.

Officer Booker saved me from the horrors of route 17 and my own bad navigating. Kudos to her! Notice our coordinated shoulder pockets.

My route continued on Old Santa Cruz Highway, Summit Road and Soquel Santa Cruz Road which included a nice climb through coastal redwoods and a descent to the coast and my urban coastal campground destination, New Brighton State Beach. The few small wrong turns I made paled in comparison to my Highway 17 debacle. Due to my shenanigans I had to cut the ride short. I had planned a loop around Santa Cruz. Maybe next time.

New Brighton is a campground with an ocean view, like most of the places I would be staying.

I hoped to fix my issues as I relaxed at my campsite.

Once at the campground I unpacked as little as I needed to allow me to work on the CPAP cable with as much daylight as possible. But it wasn’t to be. The cheesy battery-powered soldering iron I bought could not generate enough heat to melt butter let alone solder. So as a test I touched the battery wires to the plug I got to fit the CPAP to see if it would power it up anyway. But no luck. The plug I bought fit the CPAP but it was still not the right connector, which was not surprising given the nature of medical equipment. I gave up on the idea of fixing the CPAP and decided to try the Provents one more night. If they didn’t work, I would ride back to Salinas, cut the trip short and catch a train home from there. I did not want ride for days with effectively no sleep, that would be too dangerous.

When I finally looked up from my CPAP project, Johan from Belgium greeted me and offered me some of his strawberries which I happily accepted. I later offered Johan some sliced cucumber. I think I got the better end of the trade but it was all I had to offer. Johan had flown into Los Angeles and was on his way to San Francisco, then on to Yosemite, the eastern Sierras and many other great California destinations before returning to L.A. to fly home. I tried to talk him into adding Death Valley to his route, it would have been a good time of year, but the idea seemed to make him pretty uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to give up anything else on his already full schedule.

Johan from Belgium was riding a big loop around California

John was also at the Hike or Bike site. I did not see him until the next morning, but I should have gotten up to see him in the middle of the night. That night I tried sleeping with the Provents. I woke up with one not attached anymore. Rather than give up and go back to “sleep” without it, I forced myself to get up and replace the one that fell off.  That improved things a lot for me. I slept so well that I barely woke up when the campsite was overrun by bright vehicle headlights and guys walking around talking and using what sounded like police radios.

The next morning, feeling well rested, I met John. He had a bloody gauze wrap on his knee. He had an accident with a car the night before that was his own fault. The police had come by the campground in the middle of the night to return his bike to him. John worked at Specialized bike company in nearby Morgan Hill so naturally we talked his accident, riding and bikes for a  long time.

New Brighton, like many urban campgrounds, has strict limits on Hike or Bike sites. You can only stay one night and you have to leave by 9:00 am. This helps control the homeless problem. I support such measures, it allows the park to keep offering Hike or Bike sites. A homeless shelter is very different from a campground.

Due to all of my carousing with the locals I pushed a little past the 9:00 departure time. And sure enough I got a visit from the very friendly camp host who was watching our schedules. But as I said, I support such efforts. And thankfully I had the route for day 2 in my GPS as expected and a good night’s sleep behind me. Maybe this trip would work out OK after all.

Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Distance	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
04:15:43 hours	02:05:33 hours	21.34 mi.	10.20 mph	21.70 mph	1,185.70 ft.	1,626 kcal

San Jose to Santa Cruz

Please note that my route above includes all the wrong turns and my ride with the Officer Booker. I was too busy being rescued to think to pause my Garmin.