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?
