Day 65 - 11/26/16 Leo Carillo SP to Long Beach, CA

I’d never met Catherine before.  I didn’t even know what she looked like, I had only ever seen her paintings through the screen of my phone.  On my way to her place I wondered how I even started following her on Instagram.  The morning at Leo Carillo State Park was just beautiful.  The Hiker.Biker campsite was tucked in a grove under massive, thick, meandering branches reaching in all directions, partly bleached by the sun, or maybe that’s the way they are.  

I knew rain was in the forecast, sometime in the early afternoon, so I was up with the sun.  I ate my oats and drank my coffee quickly in the cold and was on the road by 8:00.  Getting out of the grove and into the sun was thrilling, I was motivated to beat the rain but, I couldn’t escape it.  The first half of the ride was sunny and dry as I rolled over the seaside hills through Malibu and into Santa Monica.  The bike path winds you through the hot, tan sands, past the lifeguard huts in their soft sea foam shades of blue and all the vacant volley ball nets, at is Fall after all.  

I had to stop at REI in Santa Monica but it was nice to stop and see the pier and some of the trippy sidewalks with curved bricks that wiggled in your eyes as you roll over them.  But just outside of Santa Monica is where the rain found me.  Right on the beach.  I don’t know if anyone believed the forecast or paid attention to it because all the other cyclists and beachgoers seemed rather surprised by the sudden shower.  

The next 30 miles were a wet blur, a mad dash to get to Catherine’s in Long Beach.  It’s not so fun to stop riding in the rain when you’re already soaked through, I get real cold real quick.  It’s best to keep moving, and so I did.  As it sometimes happens, the sun came out from behind the veil of clouds just as I got to Catherine’s, what else can you do but laugh?  

Her apartment was set up like any good artist’s living arrangement: lots of art on the walls, lots of art on the floor leaning against the walls, paintings I had only seen from my phone screen, massive in person, and lots of art supplies shoved in corners that would be something at some point.  I went and showered and she went to work making a vegetable stew.  We shot the shit for a long time with some Christmas music in the background.  

It was nice to hear someone talk about art and making art.  That’s her full-time gig and it makes sense because she’s so damn talented.  There’s a box of Dunkin Donuts on her table.  I laughed when I saw them but, she assured me they’re just her models.  She knows what a good donut should taste like.

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 61 - 11/22/16 Oceano, CA to Gaviota, SP

I remember it wasn’t until Ohio that I stayed at a campground where there were actually other people there.  That was a nice change of pace, nice to have people to talk to and hang out with (that’s also the first time I ran into raccoon issues).  Here at Gaviota State Park, the campground is actually closed, only open to cyclists.  The sites are scattered about the parking lot and past everything is the beach, framed by a tall railroad bridge that spans the length of the 2 cliffs that bookend the little slice of sand.  

And it’s just me here to enjoy it.  There were a few folks poking around to watch the sun set but, now it is dark, windy but, also very peaceful.  I met a girl the other day at San Simeon but have not seen her since.  The campground situation in Oceano last night was a bit screwy and I thought I ended up at a different campground than her, maybe I did.  But I expected to see her here today but, that’s not the case.  She was good company, for sure.  A Wyoming native –I told her all the ridiculous shit that happened to me there and she just laughed.  It was a peaceful ride through lots of farmland today, warm and sunny.  Whenever the road veers inland into farm territory I’m always excited when it brings me back to the coast.  It looks like that’s where I’ll be for the next couple of days.  

I still don’t know what I’m doing for Thanksgiving, if I’ll ride or if I’ll sit still, if anyone will be where I am or what I’ll eat –probably some vegetarian chili.  I wish I could’ve gone out on the pier here to watch the sunset but, it’s closed for construction and I was also too hungry to sit and wait for the sun to go down.  I did take a little stroll on the beach but, I feel compelled to get everything set up so I can crawl in my tent right away when it starts to get cold.  As I was finishing washing my dishes, I walked out of the bathroom to the sight and sound of an Amtrak train riding across the sky; most of the windows were lit up enough to see people inside, some walking around, opening this and that, others sitting by the window in their own little space watching the world whip on by or maybe lost in a good book.  

I’m planning on taking the Amtrak back to Boston once the time comes to head home.  I might’ve taken this site as a sign to head home if that train had been heading North but, sure enough it was barreling down the tracks, Southbound to cacti, more palm trees and more adventures in unknown places.  

Day 60 - 11/21/16 San Simeon SP to Oceano, CA

It was a late start today.  Everything went as planned but, I had just planned on doing a lot.  The sun rose up past the tops of the trees close to 8:00am, it felt like someone just turned the heat on full blast.  I enjoyed removing gloves and hat and eating my oatmeal in the warmth of the morning.  Happy to see the sun, I dried out everything that was wet: tent, sleeping pad, bags, shoes... I kept all my soaking clothes in a bag to take to the laundromat in Cambria.

I didn’t leave the campsite til 10:30 and I didn’t leave Cambria til 1:00.  I knew the very end of my ride would happen after sunset but, I wasn’t worried.  Sometimes it’s nice to still be riding, watching the sun paint the sky pink and blue over the ocean, past the palms... It does get cold though.  Luckily, this campground has showers, it was my first time in a week.  The hot water did me right, I stood in there for a solid half hour, soaking it all in.  It’s so easy to forget how nice a warm home is.

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.

Day 58 - 11/19/16 - Andrew Molera State SP to Kirk Creek SP, CA

I forgot how much I enjoy my alone time in the morning and in the evening.  I’ve been in my tent for the last couple hours even though it’s only 6:00pm.  It’s been drizzling on and off since the early afternoon so I actually made an early dinner right in here.  The idea off writing more consistently brightens me up; the activity has become my rock, my way of staying grounded.  Even though I can’t post everything I write everyday for folks to check in on me, I still feel like I’m talking to everyone when my pen hits the page.  

With less than a week til Thanksgiving, thoughts of family and friends are at the forefront of my mind.  I’ve never been away from home so long, almost 6 months, and I’ve never spent the holiday season away from home.  It will be good for me, changing things up is good for everyone, that’s how we learn things about ourselves.  What do I now know about myself that I did not know before?  I guess that I can survive without a shower for a couple weeks.  I’m strong, physically and mentally, I’ll take a small town or a city any day and a secluded campground over a small town.

I can control my life by the way I look at it.  I’m full of love for all things in the universe.  I think I’ll really see some personal growth once I go back home, a changed person in a familiar situation.  Big Sur has a presence like some sort of sleeping giant laying across 70 miles of sea, cars and bikes riding up and down its spiny back, another place in nature people go to feel small, to connect with something so powerful...I had a headache this morning, the worst one I’ve had in a while.  I woke up with it around 1:00am, I thought maybe the mushrooms dehydrated me so I slugged some water but, the damn pain was with me all day, I almost didn’t want to ride for fear I wouldn’t enjoy the scenery.  

But I made it the 35 miles, head pounding most of the day, and it did not interfere once.  I had to tell myself to get over it, to remind myself how many people on Earth are in worse pain than me.  And probably none of those people are here in one of the most beautiful stretches of road here on Earth.  Everything is perfect, me by myself, the rain, Beethoven playing softly from the speaker next to my knee, my luxury-coffin-sized tent, the waves less than 100 feet away.  I may feel lonely at times but, none of us are ever by ourselves.

Day 57 - 11/18/16 - Day Off at Andrew Molera State Park, Big Sur, CA

Laying on a picnic table under the starriest night I’ve laid eyes on in Big Sur after what feels like the best day I could’ve asked for – I’ve seen 9 shooting stars with my back on the Earth and my eyes in the sky.  But how many days are in the vault labeled something like, “Best day I could’ve asked for”?  

These special days are filled with beautiful moments, scenery, hills, laughter, eating...and this trip is full of so many days like this and it’s all going by in my mind like one of these shooting stars in the sky.  Some day, I’ll be 50 years old and I’ll have twice as many “Best Days” in my memory, piled up and disorganized like random clutter in a junk drawer.

I’ll say things like, “10 years ago –or maybe 15” before I start to tell a story.  Maybe one day I’ll tell the story of when I ate some shrooms at Big Sur and walked to the beach and became a bump on a log, a blade of grass, and a shrub on the side of a cliff and sea hawks hovered and flew over me, their wings sharp like blades.  The waves crashed and made intricate curved patterns like veins or smoke; out in the distance the water looked like 3D shapes all floating and bumping, catching the glare from the sun.  

The delicate flowers were black against the sky and their ends broke off and became pelicans swooping into the blue.  Becoming human again and coming off the cliffs I backtracked down the trail, the mountains in the distance caught the last bit of sunlight and glowed a bright pink that darkened to red and then purple, like a bruise, until the sun dipped and it all went gray.  

I lay on the ground and watched it all.  One of the mountains looked like a sad, tired face and I felt like it was mother nature and she was telling me, “it’s okay” and I felt loved.  By the time I got back to my tent the stars were already coming out.  I got in my sleeping bag but, hung my head outside my tent to stare up at the starriest night I’ve laid eyes on.  

Or maybe I’ll have an even better story to tell of an even better day and my night in Big Sur will just go by the wayside, into the junk drawer of my mind, just like a shooting star blazing across the blackness, and those keeping count don’t remember a difference between the fifth and the ninth shooting star, they’ve all been bright and beautiful.