Cycle Tour Santa Cruz to Monterey, A Coastal Smorgasbord

Day two of my trip began with my resolve not to put my head down and hammer out a fast ride, but to take my time and stop to explore what 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 at the end. It is a concrete ship that its owners intentionally sank at the end of the pier.

As I left the park, riders from an organized ride joined me. I asked what the event was called, but I couldn’t understand them. Was it the seven-something ride, maybe? I stayed with the ride for a long time. I rode slower than everyone else, which gave me the chance to meet many of them. A few recognized my bikepacking bags and touring setup and gave me a thumbs up or asked where I was going. Our paths finally diverged, and I still had a lot of riding left.

I loved the contrast between the rural farmland and the exotic coastline, with dunes and surf in the distance. My version of farmland comes from 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 planned to make it to Cannery Row for lunch, but my stomach had other ideas, and I needed to eat much earlier. But endless farmland offered little in the way of places to eat.

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. The gas station offered a picnic table on the edge of the asphalt pad as the only place to have lunch. I refused to eat in a gas station parking lot, especially when my original plans were to eat somewhere nice. 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 meant, 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, where an ecosystem called a slough begins. Like a coastal swamp, it is a delightful meeting of 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.

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 quite a bit, but thankfully that didn’t 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 path turned from a remote coastal route into a 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 wouldn’t object if I did.

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 at myself for 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 settled in, and it got dark early in the heavy overcast weather. The only lights I traveled with were a headlamp and my phone. The headlamp had an unexpected effect: the eyes of any critters looking at you reflect 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, a 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 woke up well rested and realized I was sleeping well with my CPAP substitute breathing aids. This was a great development. I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to sleep well with them and 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 me how warm a tent can keep you, even though it is only a couple of thin sheets of nylon. My tent was a lightweight model with very thin nylon, and it still kept me cozy. I stayed in the protection of my vestibule to make myself a cup of coffee while the morning fog cleared up.

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 ended, posting real-time updates.

Michael was an eBike enthusiast and, in my own words, a semi-vagabond. 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 the 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 wasn’t 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 hadn’t paid their $6 camp fee.

I had to tear myself away from the great conversation if I wanted 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.