Trailer land

So, several months ago, my girlfriend and I started running into the problem of picking up firewood with our bikes.



The balancing act can work... but, well, it's not ideal. So, I began trying to design and build a trailer. I have a little experience brazing, but no idea how to weld right now, so I decided to put it together with hardware. I bought a bit of steel tubing and started bolting things together. We found a baby jogger at a garage sale, so I had a set of wheels.

The first problem I ran into was my lack of a proper work space. It's hard to drill three holes at the same angle in a round tube in the grass with a hand held drill. A vise and a tube clamp would've saved me a few headaches, but they weren't available. The second problem was trying out various types of hardware. We must've bought two and a half sets of hardware before it was all figured out.

After getting everything bolted together, I put a piece of plywood in the bottom and took it for a ride. The problems multiplied from there. The points at which I connected tubes didn't stabilize top to bottom twisting, i.e. I didn't bolt it together directly at the corners. The plywood can't fit in the frame the way I hoped so that I can bolt it down, so it rattles. And the biggest problem, the boom connecting the bike to the trailer is unstable. I used aluminum and connected it vertically to the front of the trailer, so when there is a wobble the trailer begins wiggling back and forth and won't stop until you slow down to almost a stop.

Trailer Version 1.0: Inoperable

Longest day - ever!

So two Saturdays ago, my girlfriend and I took a trip to Oakland so that she could go to wedding shower for her brother's fiancé. While she stuck around in the Oakland Hills to catch a ride to SLO for the shower, I rode across Oakland to Alameda to check out the Cycles of Change APC community shop (about eleven miles). It's a really great shop. I was super stoked to see people of color working in a community bike shop. I volunteer in one myself, and I've gone to an international conference for community bike shops. The population therein is almost entirely white radicals trying to serve communities of color, so the APC shop was refreshing.

After I left the shop, I took the ferry to San Francisco. I disembarked about 3pm, and I rode across the city (about eight miles). Now, it had been beautiful in the East Bay, and it had been beautiful on the bayside of SF. A couple of miles before I hit the coast, it became super foggy and totally overcast. I was no longer stoked.

I rode south when I hit the highway. It was cold. Through Pacifica, my glasses got damp from the fog. I've actually never been through Pacifica when it wasn't foggy. After this ride, I'm terrified to visit my friends in Portland. Too many years in Florida made me prone to seasonal depression - I get grumpy for weeks in Santa Cruz sometimes and it's not even that bad there.

The only sun I saw for the 80 miles between Golden Gate Park and nightfall was for about five miles on the north-side of Half Moon Bay. I soaked in as much as I could and then stopped for a burrito at Tres Amigos (a great place that's becoming my regular stop when riding down). The sky cleared up over me about 15 miles outside of Santa Cruz, but the fog over the ocean created a barrier between me and the yet to set sun.

All in all, it felt like the longest, coldest, loneliest ride that I've ever done. But, it was also my first time riding about 100 miles in a single day, which was cool. The following day, all I could do was watch netflix and stuff my face. I may not have been completely conscious again until Monday.

Santa Cruz Mountains

I decided to head out by myself for a couple of days after school finished a few weeks ago ( I finally graduated from college!). From Santa Cruz, I rode down to Soquel Village and went up Old San Jose Highway. It's a really nice ride. There's a great little coffee shop/convenient store just a few miles out of Soquel Village, and traffic is pretty low. I hit Summit Road and went west from there. I passed another little store, this one a bit bigger, where spandex clad roadies all sat around on a patio (probably talking about how much their bikes cost - "well, my carbon fiber fork is Italian and I paid... blah, blah, blah"). It did look like a nice spot to stop and I would definitely do a there-and-back ride and have lunch at that store.
A couple miles after I passed Highway 17, it got all kinds of beautiful. I passed through some Christmas Tree farms, and there were great views of both the ocean and down toward San Jose.

I found out that climbing on a pretty hot day requires more water than two bike bottles can hold. I started to worry as I continued on. I wanted to make a campsite a bit farther down Skyline Blvd, but when I rode past Castle Rock State Park. I decided to camp there so I could get water as soon as possible. The problem with that was the campsites there are kind of far into the park, but there was a fire/maintenance road into the camp area. The other problem was I thought I'd pass another little grocery store, so i could get some cash. At this point, I was so thirsty that I didn't care and I rode in.
The gravel fire road to the campsites is loose. Wait - maybe loose doesn't quite cover it. I was fine most of the way in, but one hill was so steep that I got off the bike to walk it and I kept sliding forward in the gravel while I tried to walk down. It was the same trying to get out, but more difficult.
There was no ranger and only one other group of campers (a father and son), so I was okay with not paying. There was plenty of water so I drank up and went to bed, exhausted.

I plunged so quickly into describing the trip I skipped some of my new gear related points. First, I went to a clothing swap a few friends put on. Everyone piled clothes they don't wear anymore into the middle of the backyard and we all went through it and found stuff we like. I totally scored a Swobo wool jersey.

And, I finally figured out a good place for that handlebar bag. On my down tube just above my bottle cage.

And most importantly, my mother gave me a point and shoot camera as a graduation present with which a took all these photos. It fits in the handlebar bag perfectly.

On the second day, I decided to cut the trip short because my girlfriend told me on the phone the night before that I'd had a response from somewhere that I had applied for a job (which didn't amount to anything). I continued on Skyline and then cut down Alpine Road to Pescadero Road. Something to be conscious of: Alpine will drop in elevation so far that you will have pretty long climb to actually get out to the city of Pescadero. I saw a bit of wildlife though, a fox, a deer, and a raccoon in a trap in the back of a truck - oh! and a baby quail running behind a mom/dad quail.



I finally hit Pescadero and stopped at a little bakery. I got a non-vegan pastry (don't tell anyone) and some apple juice. Then I started down the coast in the fog (it had been perfectly sunny before I hit the coast). Pescadero is about halfway in between San Francisco and Santa Cruz, so it was a pretty good ride.



I was exhausted by the time I hit Santa Cruz, and I went straight to the restaurant where my girlfriend works and ordered a burrito. Afterward, I went home plopped down in my desk chair and looked at my route on the internet. It was 90 miles, about 50% of which was pretty burley climbing, in less than 24 hours!



P.S. Coming soon: my girlfriend will give a woman's point of view of a tour we went on a few months back.

Maintenance...

Winter in Santa Cruz

Well, the weather finally caught up with us here in Northern California. As usual, it's been raining for the last month. I've only got in two good rides in the last month.
I did a quick afternoon Swanton Loop with Kelly and Asia. Asia got a flat, and we somehow managed to tear the tube. He had to call someone to pick him up since none of us had brought an extra tube, but he had ponies to keep him company as Kelly and I continued on. After we finished the loop, Kelly wanted to take the farm roads and railroad back. I wasn't prepared for it. My back and my wrists started hurting from all the bumping up and down and then I wiped out on the RR gravel. I didn't enjoy it, but Kelly seemed to be having a ball. By the time we got back to Santa Cruz, my mood was less than amiable, and I was starving. I hadn't planned on leaving so late, so the breakfast I had didn't last through the ride. I felt weak and dehydrated, but some cactus tacos (Kelly's Recommendation) at Taqueria La Cabana gave me enough fuel to make it to my GF's place.

The other ride was pretty nice. My GF, two of our friends, and I did the Watsonville ride and got some burritos. The only problem was coming back a little later than planned and being pretty cold.

I put some wider bars on the bike and some nice Shimano brake levers. I haven't re-wrapped the bars because I've decided to get some bar end shifters. If I lean forward in a sprint, I tend to knee my down tube shifters - sometimes hard enough to make them shift. The bar end shifters seem to be a good way of getting my shifting up on the bars without the large cost of or risk of breaking integrated shifters.

I've also ridden the bike enough that it's starting to need a bit of maintenance. In the next month or two, I'd like to put a sealed bottom bracket in, rebuild the headset, rebuild the front wheel, and straighten out and align the chainstays and rear dropouts (they seem a little off).

I might pop down to Big Sur for a night or two this weekend after finals are over. A friend has a big group campsite for the weekend, and he said I could join. When I get back, my girlfriend, Kit, and I are going to take advantage of some free lodging in Tahoe for the rest of Spring break. We're going to bring our bikes and maybe do some camping while we're there. By the time the Spring quarter starts, the weather should be consistently warm and dry enough for lots of weekend trips!

In-store pick up = 75 mile round trip

When I ordered my new sleeping bag, I opted for in-store pick up. It saved me ten dollars and more importantly gave an opportunity to to do a long day ride. I had two options. I could either pick it up in Saratoga - over the Santa Cruz Mountains, or I could pick it up in Marina - not quite to Monterey. Since Monterey County is like my new exciting discovery, I decided on Marina.

I asked my friend Kelly if she wanted to come with me because I wanted to do it fast, and of all my friends who ride, she's in the 10% that's almost inarguably faster than me ("Almost" might be giving me too much credit. She's probably totally faster than me). Anyway she agreed, but then bailed out on me last minute. So, I was going at it alone.

I left around 9:30 on a Sunday, and I wasn't feeling too quick. I pushed on, and I tried to force a pace on myself that was a little outside my comfort zone (since I didn't have anyone to push me). After a few miles, I'd gotten used to the pace, and though there were a few adjustments I wanted to make to the bike, I decided not to stop until it was too hot for my hoodie or until I found a bike shop. I hadn't brought any water, and I planned on buying a Klean Kanteen water bottle along the way and filling it.

These two stipulations held for two hours, and next thing I knew, I was in Marina locking my bike up at REI. I looked around for a Klean Kanteen, and the only ones they had were the tall ones. I wanted the short one that would fit in my bottle cages, so I skipped on them. I hit the water fountain and then picked up my new sleeping bag at the front counter.

I was 37 miles into the ride and all I'd had was a mouth full of water and a Lara Bar. I was starving, but I kind of wanted to get some deep fried artichokes in Moss Landing, about ten to fifteen miles back. I hopped back on my bike and rolled out.

I've now learned that consistently, as far as I can tell, the wind coming in from the west between Moss Landing and Marina is pretty rough. All the sprinting and skipping on water on the way to Marina, now, took its toll. I could barely push myself forward in the wind, and on the final stretch of road before I turned back onto Highway 1 and slightly away from the wind, I found myself grimacing and yelling at myself to push. I made the turn and could now see the café in the distance.

I stepped into Moss Landing Café feeling like I was about to fall apart. I staggered for a moment looking at the tables and the server told me to sit anywhere I'd like.
"Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Beer. You have beer?"
"Yes."
"Do you have Anchor Steam?"
"Yes."
"I would love an Anchor Steam, please."
My voice sounded weak and shaky even to me.

I threw my things into the booth and then fell into it. She set the beer down, and I drank half of it immediately. I explained my exhaustion, and I ordered some deep fried artichokes (amazing by the way). She was very sweet and kept the water coming. When I'd finally collected myself and started to leave, she asked if I'd ever tried the carrot muffins. I told her, no, but that I would next time. Then right before I walked out, she gave me a free carrot muffin. I thought it would've been rude to ask if it were vegan, so I only thanked her made my way out to my bike.

The rest of the ride back was uneventful. I stopped at the Army/Navy Surplus, but didn't find anything I was looking for (some old Swiss bread panniers or a Navy pea jacket in my size). I got into Santa Cruz and all but fell onto my bed. It was quite a day - about 73.5 miles roundtrip with no water, a new sleeping bag, and deep fried artichokes.

First Tour: supplemental

The day after I returned from the weekend in Monterey and Big Sur, I received a phone call. It was from the guy whose wallet I'd found and dropped off. He was really grateful, and his wife had told him that I was on a bike tour (a detail I'd mentioned when I'd called her office before dropping off the wallet). He told me that he worked at REI, and he wanted to send me a gift card out of appreciation so that I could buy some supplies for touring. I told him thank you very much, gave him my address, and we said good-bye.

A couple of days later, a package showed up. I opened it and there was a handlebar bag and a $65 gift certificate. I couldn't believe it. I had actually wanted to get a handlebar bag - something in which I could keep my phone and maybe a camera handy. And, $65 was way more than I imagined he'd send. I got on the REI Outlet website and found a 2008 REI 20º Fahrenheit down sleeping bag that was on close-out just because it was an '08. It was regularly $185 - marked down to $124. I added it to my cart and it came up as $95.

$95 - $65 gift certificate + $10 shipping = $40 sleeping bag

$95 - $65 gift certificate + in-store pick up = my next big ride

First Tour

Day One: extended preparation

I left my house and rode to Josh's. He was still in the process of getting moving and had a bit of a headache. Rob was still no where in sight. During my ride over and my chatting with Josh, I began to think of things that I was really going to need to get while in Santa Cruz- the first of which was a tire pump. I'd packed a patch kit, extra tube, and a Presta to Schrader adapter, but I was kidding myself if I thought I could get by without a pump. Before I could leave to go buy one, Josh offered a pump that we carry at the shop that he'd seen, got excited about, but then didn't use because of his attachment to his old classic frame pump. I bought the new pump from him. It's a Topeak Road Morph G. It has a gauge and you can stand it on end and pump it against the ground- a pretty handy feature if you've ever tried to get 120 pounds of pressure into a tire by pushing a pump together between your hands.

Pump?
Check!

The other thing that I had thought of the night before was a ground pad. By that time, Rob had arrived, and he recommended that I go to Down Works on River Street. I shot over there while they casually made breakfast and bought a Therm-a-rest pad. I got a small foam one. I got the small because I don't think having my feet on something is that big of a deal, and I got the foam because I used to have an inflatable one. Aside from it being heavier, it also leaked. I tried on several occasions to patch it which never worked, so I wasn't about to buy another one.

Ground Pad?
Check!

I stopped and grabbed a bagel from the Bagelry on my way back to Josh's, and wolfed it down while they made their last preparations. They were going on a much longer ride than I was- six days and hundreds of miles. Josh got a call right before we left, and on our way out, he dropped a bike of his off for a showing of local frame builders.

Day One: On the Road

So at last, we're off! Immediately, I'm in trouble. I've never ridden with a loaded bike, and Josh and Rob do it often. They're keeping a pace that I would keep on my fixie with no bag, and I'm struggling to keep up. Now I know how I make other people feel. Part of it may have been that I've been riding slower since I got my touring bike. On my fixie, I always felt the need to rip around town like bullet, but I was enjoying being on my new bike the last few weeks so much that I'd hardly pushed myself for speed at all.

Another part of the problem that Rob pointed out was that I'd strapped my ground pad down in the most logical way for taking it off and putting it on- perpendicular to the bike across both panniers. It was probably creating huge wind resistance and not helping my pace. I ignored the ground pad and pushed harder.

We took the inland route through Santa Cruz and Capitola through Soquel. It's not as pretty, but it's quicker which was a concern for them considering how far they'd hoped to go that day. I stuck it out and kept up for the most part.

We stopped in Moss Landing to rest, eat and stretch. Rob kept prodding me about the amount of food I'd brought. He was worried that I'd not brought the right kind of food, so to appease him I bought a couple of avocados before we got back on the road (I say it was to appease him, but I love avocados. I'm glad he made me think of it).

We continued south and started to pull away from the coast, but by this time I was feeling pretty fatigued. I decided to stick to the coast and just head down to Monterey. We said our "good-byes" and "good lucks," and we parted ways. I road back to the coast through Marina where I caught the bike path to Monterey.



The bike path is pretty amazing. It it's over twenty miles long and runs from Castroville to Pacific Grove. It stays in between Highway 1 and the ocean, so there were lost of views of the bay and sand dunes.

I arrived in Monterey and went to find a coffee shop Josh had described to me that was next to a bike shop- that being an ideal combination. The coffee shop was East Village Coffee Lounge. It had a nice vibe, and vegan muffins. I ordered a chocolate muffin (that they warmed up for me) and an Americano. I sat out on the patio, ate my muffin, and looked my bike map over.

I checked directions to Veteran's Memorial Park with the guys in the bike shop (Aquarian), and headed up the hill. I rolled into the park and set-up camp.



I had a little trouble sleeping the first night for several reasons. First, I locked my bike to the tree with only a u-lock. The frame and rear tire were secure, but even though taking my front tire would require a wrench and taking my seat would require an allen wrench, I was half listening all night. Second, it was January. Even though the weather had been abnormally amazing for the last week, the ground was still cold enough that my feet not being on my small ground pad occasionally woke me up. Third, raccoons. I heard raccoons sniffing around my tent. I finally got the bright idea to pee on the ground all around the tent. While this was a little strange, I didn't hear anymore sniffing for the rest of the night.

Day Two: Big Sur

I woke up and very lazily took a (free) shower. I'd forgotten, of all things, soap, toothpaste, and a toothbrush, so I did the best I could to scrap off the funk. I talked to my mom while I was breaking down camp and she made me promise to eat something with protein that day (people think I'm slowly wasting away being vegan). I promised and finished packing.

Just before I left a ranger came over and said that he hadn't found a payment from me. I told him that I had been told it was free, and he calmly said that it wasn't. It was only five buck which was still a great deal considering that there were free shower facilities. I paid it and left.

I stopped at East Village again, and asked if there were any vegan friendly restaurants. The woman gave me directions to Tillie Gort's in Pacific Grove. I stopped next door at Aquarian, told them that the park was not free for hikers/bikers (that's who told me that in the first place), and bought a cable for locking up my seat and front wheel.

I ate at Tillie Gort's, making sure to order something with protein. While there, I finished reading some Mark Twain. When I left, I stopped at UPS and sent the book back home to lighten my load. Then, it was on to Big Sur.

I rode over the hill instead of riding around the point hoping that it would be a little quicker since it was already well past noon. As soon as I started down the backside, I got a flat- good thing I had the pump. I used my patch kit and saved my extra tube.



I rode down through Carmel, but then I became much more aware of the time. I started south at a pretty quick clip only stopping for a failed attempt to buy a toothbrush.



The stretch of road between Carmel and Big Sur is well know for it's scenic beauty for good reason. It was gorgeous. The highway was rolling though. I shifted gears frequently as I was climbing and descending then descending then climbing. I felt like a yo-yo.



Everything flattens out (only by comparison) as you close in on Big Sur. I was really watching the sun at this point. When I past Andrew Molera State Park, I stopped and pulled my map out. It wasn't much farther to Big Sur, but it could be the difference between stumbling around in the dark or setting up camp with some light. I turned around and went back to Andrew Molera.

The surfer bro at the gate gradually, through excessive "likes," "uhs," and "y'knows," told me they were full and that the best thing for me to do was to ask someone if they'd share a campsite with me. I rode down to the site and someone asked me if I needed a place before I'd even built-up the courage to start asking people.

His name was Eric, and he was teacher in Carmel. We sat around, chatted, and drank a beer before we retired to our tents.

Day Three: Henry Miller

The next morning, I went for a walk down to the beach. While there, I found a lost wallet. When I returned to the campsite, Eric had already left. I went through the wallet and found that the owner of the wallet's wife worked at Monterey Bay Aquarium. I stuffed it into my pannier and rode down to Big Sur.

I went straight to a supply store and bought some Dr. Bronner's soap, Tom's of Maine toothpaste, and a toothbrush. At one of the private campsites, there was a quarter shower, and for $1.25, I had a nice hot shower.



I rode down to the Henry Miller Memorial Library, a ride that included the longest hill ever. I sat and did some reading for one of my classes and had some free tea. The place is pretty amazing. It's an old house converted into a Henry Miller Bookshop on the inside. On the out side, there's a patio, a grassy patch, sculpture, and a ping-pong table. It was very relaxing. I think most people don't get it, though. People were constantly walking in then walking right back out and leaving. I think that maybe they're expecting a more tourist-oriented destination. It's really more of a secluded, Henry Miller-themed hang out.

By this time, it was becoming apparent that the friend I was supposed to meet for beers in Big Sur that night wasn't going to call. I collected myself and headed back up the coast for the five dollar campsite in Monterey. It was a much more relaxing ride going up because I was more familiar with the road and I knew where I was going to stay (i.e. no stress over it being dark when I get there).



I don't know how this is going to sound, but I felt guilty that I live some where like this while my family doesn't. Where my family lives is great, and I don't think any of them would live anywhere else. But, I'm just so overcome with the beauty of it sometimes that I want to share it with them, and I can't because they're 2,000 miles away. Maybe, that's the guilt's origin. I want them to experience it so bad, and I can't do anything about it.

Anyway, I got into Monterey and went straight to a bar. I wanted a real meal and a couple of beers. I found the Mucky Duck on Alvarado Street. I locked my bike up and brought my panniers in with me. The salsa is made in-house and is wicked good. I would bike back there just for the chips and salsa. The waitress let me plug my phone in behind the bar, so it would last my final day. I had a few Fat Tires and ate a portebello sandwich- saving my steak-fries for breakfast the next morning.

Day Four: Home is starting to sound good

I rolled out pretty early because my shift at the Bike Church was that afternoon. I swung by the Monterey Bay Aquarium and dropped off that wallet I found before I jump on the bike path headed north up the coast. About the time I got off the bike path, I rode up next to some roadies and asked where they were going. "Santa Cruz," one of them responded. We stuck together for the remainder of the ride and chatted the entire way.

They were riding from Monterey to Santa Cruz, eating lunch, and riding back in one day. Not a bad ride, especially if your going home at the end of it. I showed them the more scenic ride down through Capitola and suggested a restaurant in Santa Cruz.

Four days in the same cloths- I might just burn them.

I got home a little before one. I was exhausted, and totally recharged at the same time. It felt good to be home, but it may have been the best weekend trip ever. I rode my bike about two hundred miles, camped three nights, found some great restaurants, explored a city I'd never been to before, got some reading done, and met some cool people. What more could I ask for?

Home Sweet Home

I made it back alive and what a trip it was! I don't have time to write much now, but I have plenty to say.

For now I'll just explain the change in the name of the blog.

As I rolled through the heavily forested area outside of the town of Big Sur, there was a road sign covered in paint, stickers, and marker. What caught my eye was that someone had drawn a bicycle on the sign, and once I looked closer there was a sticker that said "Ride a bicycle." That tickled me a bit and I kept looking. When I got a little closer I noticed that some one had written "Velo Tramp" on the sign near the bike and the sticker. The more I thought about it, the more appropriate it seemed. Velo is the French word for bicycle, and tramp- as in a traveler, drifter, or vagabond. When I got home yesterday, I felt compelled to change the name.

Heading out

I thought I'd drop a quick note and few photos before heading out.




I got a hold of Josh and I'm rolling out with them this morning, so I'll be riding inland today. Tomorrow, I'll go on to Big Sur.

Big Sur... or something.

When I found out on Monday that this weekend is a three day weekend, and that my friend and his lady are car camping for the weekend in Big Sur, I got the bright idea to bike down to Big Sur myself. This will be my first big ride, and it looks like I'm going it alone. I tried to get a few friends to role with me, but everyone already had plans for the weekend. I guess I'm a little late on the big plans for the weekend wave.

I put an Axiom Journey rear rack on my bike on Tuesday. It's got a 70 kg max load and it's lines really compliment the bike (or my friend Paul was just blowing smoke up my rear). I had to borrow a list of things for the weekend, though. I have a really warm sleeping bag that won't stuff down smaller than my torso, so I had to borrow one. I couldn't drop a hundred or two on panniers just yet, so I borrowed some from a different friend. I put some bottle cages on, but had to borrow bottles. I might go buy a ground pad on the way out in the morning. I've tried sleeping without one in the past, and well, it would be difficult to call what took place sleep. My tent is a two person, so it's good- albeit a little big. I scratched together a first aid kit- Advil, Band-Aids, Neosporin, Vicodin, you know- just the stuff I had lying around. I bought a bike map of the Monterey Bay Area which looks to be pretty valuable. I snagged some fruit from the farmers market, a few Lara bars from the grocery, and stole some bread from Beckman's dumpster (and received a generous donation of breakfast bars from the friend who lent the sleeping bag). I think I'm ready to go. I've also managed to stuff Tom Sawyer into one of the panniers, so I can keep up with my reading over the weekend.

The route I'm taking, as of right now, is a little up in the air. I know that by Saturday afternoon, I want to be in Big Sur. I have two friends from the Bike Church that are biking to Sespe Wilderness. I was going to head out with them Friday morning, but I haven't heard from them. I might be doing the entire trip solo. If I did what I thought I was going to do leaving with them, I'd bike to at least Hollister, then head south by south-west, camp some where then go on to Big Sur on Saturday morning. If I'm leaving without them, I have no idea what I'm doing (besides not skipping class in the morning).

Well, I guess this is it. I'll have really broken in the bike by the next time I write.

Wish me luck.

"Welcome back."

I did a few short rides to get used to the bike. The first ride was on New Year's Eve. The girl I was dating (Kit), my friend Brooke, and I biked north out of Santa Cruz up Highway 1 to Swanton Farms. Considering the time of year, it's been pretty amazing here. I wore shorts and was comfortable most of the day.

We stopped at Bonnie Doon beach and snacked a little, then continued to Swanton Berry Farms. Once there, we sat down with some hot self-serve apple-strawberry cider and played chess. They even give discounts to cyclist there, but apparently you have to have a helmet or the offer is not valid. We ran into my friend, Kyle, and he told us about a beach halfway back to Santa Cruz by the house of a mutual friend of ours (Anne). We headed south to Anne's and sat on the beach and drank a bottle of wine between the three of us.



The walk back to the bikes from the beach was long enough to sober us up a bit, and then we rode back to Santa Cruz. Kit and I were so tired we barely were able to stay awake until midnight.

Watsonville

Just this past weekend I randomly decided to bike to Watsonville. I called my friend Idit, and she and her boyfriend, Jonathan, signed on for the ride. Idit wasn't feeling too well, so the ride there was pretty leisurely. It gave me more time to take in how beautiful south county is. Fields, rolling hills, and views of the ocean were plentiful. It was great. I think I might love it down there.

At one point, feeling particularly euphoric, I told Idit that this was reminding of why I love bicycles so much. I told her that I felt like I'd been distracted by the whole fixie scene this past year. Her only response was, "Welcome back."

"Welcome back." I guess I have been kind of gone.



This new bike has come to represent everything that I love about life. I couldn't have been happier than when I was on that ride to Watsonville. I managed to get a vegan burrito at the deserted mexican restaurant we ate at, then we headed back. All in all, it was an amazing day.

The Bike

After months of looking and several false starts, I was ready to build a touring bike on a Specialized Rock Hopper. A lot of people these days are touring on mountain bikes and with the exception of the bottom bracket being a little high for touring (so I'm told), it a pretty good option. I came to this point after weeks of watching for a bike to come into the community bike shop at which I volunteer (we operate on donations of old bikes), and nothing ever came in that was my size or tour-able. I finally gave up and ordered a Pake cross frame, but it was back ordered. For just a little more, I was able to put in an order for a Soma Double Cross. A friend had toured Europe on hers and it seemed like a great option, but unfortunately, the fork that made the order within my budget was out of stock. I cancelled the entire order. Being a fan of eighties Schwinns, I joked to a few friends that I really wanted a Schwinn Voyageur, but I couldn't find mention of one for sale anywhere.

I finally decided to compromise getting a touring frame or a cross frame, and I contacted my old roommate who had a 1983 Nishiki International. It was at best a sport tourer, but it was in great shape, fit me, and she had mentioned being willing to sell it. I researched exactly how touring friendly an International was, what the tubing was made of, and some history of the company. But all of a sudden, she wouldn't return my calls (I would later find out that she was indisposed due to insane legal problems her ex-boyfriend created for her.) At this point, I found the Rock Hopper.

I have to admit I can be a little silly with how much I daydream about bicycles. I can be so silly that while visiting family in Louisiana during the holidays that I still look through San Francisco craigslist bike ads. Usually, nothing results from this other than me not getting any work done, but this time something unbelievable happened. I found an ad for a 1987 Schwinn Voyageur.

photo by Zoe Vivino

It didn't seem real at first, but once it sunk in I was terrified that it would sell before I could get back to California. Fortunately, ignoring my family to fool around on my laptop actually paid off, and ten hours after stepping off the plane in San Jose, I was on my way to pick up the bike.

It's in almost prefect shape, and with the exception of the pedals, I think it still has all the original componentry as the day it was born. I brought it home, put the Brooks saddle my mother got me for Christmas on it, and took it for a spin.

Heaven

Genesis, or How the Open Road Destroyed a Hipster

In the beginning...

So back in September, I went to a community bike shop conference in San Francisco. At the end of the weekend, many of the people from the conference were biking back to where I live in Santa Cruz, so I jumped at the opportunity.

Wait- Perhaps I should back up a little more.



I've been riding a either a single-speed or a fixie for two years now, and I was a big proponent of them. I found the simplicity of a fixed gear bike to be liberating and empowering. I say liberating in that one can ride a fixie without being distracted by all the bells and whistles- so to speak. There's no gears to spend time thinking about. It's just the rider and the road. And when I say empowering, I mean that a fixie, mechanically, is so simple that anyone can learn to repair and maintain them.

I rode my brakeless fixie all over town with a fierceness. With a messenger bag and I black hooded sweatshirt, I even looked the part of the urban fixie hipster. I would back away from nothing that was thrown at me- both out of a desire to challenge myself and to prove to others that hundreds of dollars worth of fancy components aren't necessary for 95% of all riding.
Now, I feel as though I've caught us up.



The ride from SF to Santa Cruz down the coast is around 80 miles. There are both steep climbs and descents, and the rest of the group was mostly on touring bikes- that is to say, bikes whose geometry and gearing make them comfortable to ride long distances. Well, to prevent this from going on for too long, lets say that I had an amazing time, and that I wouldn't recommend anyone ride a brakeless fixie down Highway 1 to SC from the city. It was challenging to say the least, but it was beautiful. I had few good conversations. I saw some of the most spectacular views. I breathed good air. I bonded with my fellow riders. If I had been on the right bike (or just anything other than a fixie or a beach cruiser), it would've been nearly euphoric.

All I could think about in the weeks that followed was getting on a bike that would allow me to tour- anything that would allow me to get out on the road and repeat that experience as much as possible. But, learning what to buy and then actually finding it- well, that's quite a task.

To be continued...