Days 78-80 - 12/9/16-12/11/16 - Los Feliz to Claremont to Redlands to Palm Springs, CA

My time with Hallie and Jack was a perfect way to end my stint in the city, going from LA to San Diego and back up, I was pretty fed up with the traffic and red lights and crazy drivers that don’t give a shit about cyclists.  

I lucked out with a couple Warm Showers on my way out of the city.  Oris in Claremont took me out to dinner and breakfast, emphasizing the importance of conversation with locals and other travelers and the potential for interesting interactions by sitting at the counter rather than booths.  He’s logged over 100,000 miles in his 82 years on this Earth.  

Next was onto Kathy and Roger’s orange grove in Redlands.  Kathy met me 10 miles out and we rode to a local brewery where Roger met us.  They were very recently on a 10,000 mile loop tour on their tandem bicycle but were hit by a car with just about 300 miles to go.  They were both taken to the ER, Kathy needing some stitches, Roger twisting his knee a bit.  

They’re still recovering but, they’re mostly there.  Their bike has been considered totaled.  Kathy was happy to have me, they needed to hear some tales from the roaad to reignite their desire to finish their tour.  I was up and out early, around 9:00am, after coffee and oats.  

I sleepishly rode through more orange groves until the landscape opened up into more barren desert.  The sun came out and the wind picked up, luckily it was on my back and pushed me all the way to Palm Springs which is quite literally an oasis in the desert; riding in on 111, there was an abrupt shift from dry, dusty land to seeing, rich green palms lining the road.  

Max took care of my sleeping arrangements: a fancy fuckin villa once utilized by Howard Hughes back in the day.  I lived in luxury for one more night before Vinny and Nelson would be me up tomorrow morning.

Day 71 - 12/2/16 - Day Off - Chula Vista, CA

Rafa flew into San Diego at 10:00pm tonight but, hours and hours before that she texted me from Vermont with another big list of possible things to do to fill my day with places to ride to and places to eat –she’s a great long-distance tour guide.  I rode to the Olympic training center, sat by the lake, looked at the mountains, orange and rusty in color, did some writing (Rafa says she usually reads here) and then rode back.  I listened to some Christmas music while I ate lunch.  Connie came in the kitchen and was humming and singing under her breath while she did motherly things like put stuff away and wipe down counters and push chairs in.  Their home is decorated like the North Pole and I love it.  Later on, David and Dani and I drove into the city for some epic donuts at Donut Bar.  Large, colorful, sugary circles seemed to glow under the soft warm lights overhead.  

There’s a lot of love for donuts in this place.  The 3 of us went to the mall afterwards, David wanted to upgrade his wardrobe.  I normally avoid malls like the plague this time of year but, I never mind going along for the ride.  We all had fun; Dani and I made all the decisions for David in terms of color and pattern.  I haven’t bought any new clothes (except for what I’ve been wearing on this trip) in quite a while.  I like second-hand stores but, I admit, I was a bit enticed by all the nice sweaters and jackets.  I’m not going to know how to dress myself when I get home.  I’ve got about 4 shirts and a few pairs of pants/shorts that all have a specific purpose.  I’m going to need help remembering to wear something different every day, even underwear.  

We didn’t have much time to relax between getting home from the mall and going back out to pick up Rafaela, just enough time to eat another donut.  There she was, sitting out in the California cold, still bundled up from Vermont, looking like all the photos I’d seen of her but still somehow different.  Images of people and things make us think we’ve actually seen something or met someone but us humans are easily swindled by our own ideas of something.  So far, my mental image and the real Rafa are in sync; I always thought she was a kind and beautiful girl and the short time spent in the car on the way back to Chula Vista confirmed my vision of her.  It was close to 11:00pm when we got back, it felt like 2:00am to Rafa so we all went to bed to rest for tomorrow’s party.

Day 62-64 11/23/16-11/25/16 Gaviota to Carpinteria to Leo Carillo State Park, CA

Gaviota State Beach faces South, nothing obstructs the view to the East or the West so it is possible to see the sun set in the evening and then wake up to catch the sunrise –that’s what I did before I packed up in the wind and blew down 101 like a leaf in the breeze.  The road never veered too far from the ocean until I rode into Santa Barbara.  I needed groceries and some other things; I expected a shit show at Trader Joes but it was actually a piece of cake to get in and get out.  

I cruised down State Street all the way to the pier, the focal point of any cozy spot on the beach amongst the palms.  I saw a massive pine tree on the wharf, not yet decorated but, I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for it to be dressed from trunk to tip in lights and ornaments.  I carried on from there in the late afternoon, now facing a headwind for the last 10 miles, no problem.  I stopped for a real meal, a burrito and a beer to fill in for any home-cooked meal I’d miss the next night.  Carpinteria State Beach has a campground right across from the parking lot.  

I paid for 2 nights and so did Montana and Coleen, the young couple touring on their fat tire bikes in preparation for a trip to New Zealand in December.  The campground was packed, full of families in their campers, fulfilling their usual Thanksgiving tradition or doing something completely different.  I’ve never thought of spending Thanksgiving on a beach in California but, it was certainly a good way to spend the day, even if I spent it alone.  I had a nice breakfast with Montana and Coleen.  Not long after the sun began to warm the Earth, Blue came riding in!  

The old-timer we all met at Burlington Campground in Avenue of the Giants.  I was so excited I gave him a hug and he gave me some bud that we smoked shortly after we got caught up.  But, Blue is like the wind: one minute he’s there, the next, well... So I took my bike out for a ride, cruised the empty streets and down the crowded walking trails full of folks trying to justify stuffing their faces later.  I did my best to be by myself, I wasn’t interested in any bullshit smalltalk with random strangers.  

I’m thankful I don’t need the company of others to feel happy, sometimes it’s good to get away and be quiet, everyone should give it a try sometime.  I was excited to get on the road again today, too many days off aint my style and I had just taken a day in Big Sur.  The riding was phenomenal, mostly bike paths wedged between the ocean and the PCH.  I was extra grateful for this road today, there were dozens of RVs and campers next to the ocean and the ocean was filled with surfers.  

I felt like I avoided the miserable hustle and bustle of the highway and rode along the road of good times and good vibes, like this is where you go, where you ride when you prefer life on the edge, on the fringe.  The highway is where you go when you want to get it over with, when your eyes are on the destination, not the journey.  I don’t ever want to want to be there.

Day 59 - 11/20/16 - Kirk Creek SP to San Simeon SP, CA

I haven’t had any cell service to check the weather since Monterey but, at that point, it showed rain for Sunday.  Sometimes, forecasts will do a 180 but, this time it was correct.  It started raining last night in Kirk Creek, my tent was less than 100 feet from the Pacific.  I’ve had some leakage issues in the near past but, last night showed me my tent is on its last legs.  Water came in from the 2 corners that my head sits between.  A lot of the sealer around the seams is starting to peel off.  Underneath my sleeping pad, where all the past holes have been patched up, water somehow snuck in and soaked the underside.  

I’m not totally sure what I’ll do yet, the next week is projected to be sunny but, weather can always surprise you.  Despite waking up in the rain and thinking for a second I might not ride today, I sucked it up and started pedaling and actually had a groovy day.  Not far into the ride I stumbled on the small town of Gorda; one of those towns where the store, the restaurant, the post office, and town hall are all on the same patch of asphalt.  But, what a beautiful oasis Gorda is, looking out onto the ocean through a gap in the trees.  It’s always a good idea to stop for a cup of coffee to warm up when it’s raining out, always.  Inside the restaurant someone has put on some soft jazz, exactly what I would put on on such a gray day.  

I sat alone and had a couple cups with a piece of mango raspberry cheesecake; I’ve never heard of such a thing.  It was the perfect snack to help me up over the hill that leads you away from Gorda.  I’m guessing I cycled uphill for about 5 miles then rode down for about 2, then back up for another couple.  The rain and clouds and mist prevented me from seeing out into the open sea but, the elements made for an interesting ride, like thin what curtains were closing behind me, hiding the landscape, simultaneously opening up before me, showing the saturated colors on the hills close by and the muted tones of blue water below.  The endless hills seem to be behind me; the road leveled out as I got closer to San Simeon.  I passed beaches covered by the massive bodies of Elephant seals.  

Some lay sleeping while others wrestled and some even danced face to face in a mating ritual.  But I sped on by, cold and wet, thinking about food and the prospect of a warm shower at the campground –no such luck.  I haven’t showered in a week but, getting completely soaked today made me feel a little cleaner, I guess.  It’s too early to sleep, too early for dinner, too wet outside and here in my tent aint much better.  I’m trying to stay on the dry part of my sleeping pad, dampness is all over the walls and I’m surrounded by dripping panniers and a bag full of wet clothes.  It’s all part of the fun.  What a blessing it is to truly appreciate dry clothes and shelter.

Days 16, 15, 14, 13 - 10/8/16 - Honeydew, CA

I might be missing a day, or I might be adding a day, I'm not sure at this point.  It doesn't matter much.  It's an emotional day.  I parted ways with Flo, Lau, Will and Martin to head back up North to work on a farm with Vinny and Nelson.  I wouldn't have broken up the gang if I didn't think this would be the only time I get to hang with Vin.  I'm also excited to kill some time and make some money.  I'm not trying to spend more than a week in the hills but, who knows. 

The five of us took a day off at Burlington Campground yesterday.  Will wasn't sure if he was going to stop and work with his cousin for a couple weeks.  I was also waiting to hear from Vin.  And we were also just resting beneath the redwoods, not much of a rush to get away from these beauties.  We woke up slow yesterday, all of us.  It was cold, no excessive amounts of dew, it was dry, cold and dry and we loved it because it wasn't wet. 

Blue came over, a bowl packed, ready to hit the road.  He's an old-timer, 64 years old but lookin' like 70 and talkin' like he's 17, a real nice dood.  We convinced him to hang around another day although, he didn't come on our hike with us to Founder's Grove.  It was a short walking trail, just four miles from the campground. 

We took turns reading the information from the pamphlet like we were on some school field trip.  We learned about how the trees are all part of one big system, how they share nutrients and how even dead, fallen, decaying redwoods are as much a part of the system as any of the other trees; there's something to be said of that, living things are just trying to live, we ought to be helping each other do that but, I guess humans aren't always as smart as trees. 

The five of us didn't arrive at Burlington Campground all together the day we first got here.  Will, Martin, and I rolled in mid-afternoon after we had eaten some blackberry popsicles we got from a roadside fruit stand along the avenue which happened before we stopped for lunch under the giant trees in one of the many groves along the road.  I was worried that Lau and Flo got separated from us and that we wouldn't share the experience of riding through the avenue together. 

Just before the sun completely disappeared from the sky, the two French Canadian girls came rolling down the road, yelling to us at the campsite as we were prepping the fire; our group was still whole.  It's such a beautiful, unparalleled experience to find like-minded, crazy people on the road that are equally excited to ride with you as you are with them.  Friendships blossom fast, bursting open with sparks and colors like throwing a whole package of roman candles onto a campfire at once, all shooting and popping in unpredictable directions, striking this and that, illuminating familiar surroundings in beautiful and strange ways never before imagined.  And then it's gone, dark again, smoke covering everything, and you're alone.  That's how I felt when all my friends went South and I back North. 

But nothing is ever over until it's over and can anyone really ever say anything is truly over until they die?  That's almost claiming ability to see the future.  I know the road works in its own way that doesn't necessarily correspond with the nature of time; it's very possible I'll see all my friends again on this trip, just as much a possibility of never seeing them again. 

Everything comes down to the flip of a coin, seemingly random but, the forces that send that coin up and bring it back down are part of the same system, guiding objects up in the air down to the timeline of events one way or another with careful intent or distant apathy, who can tell?