September-October 2008Pacific Tour

I'm currently in Burien, WA, about 90 miles from the starting point. I shipped my bike to my aunt's and am now enjoying their wonderful hospitality (yum, Thai marinades for the salmon).

Tomorrow morning I head north to meet destiny...

The journey begins!: 2000 miles from the border to Canada to the border w/ Mexico. The picture is of the international Peace Arch, placed there to commemorate the longest undefended border in the world. Note the maple leaf past the arch. The border!

The people, of course, are Aunt Kathleen and Uncle Darryl. The food is some of Kathleen's wonderful cooking. ]

Today we packed everything on to our bikes, rode 30 miles, and then unpacked everything and set up our tents in the same place we left in the morning. Nothing fell off.

The high point for me was a lady in the pharmacy, who told me about a couple who recently bikes through on the way to Alaska. Evidently the woman had confided that "her bottom stopped hurting on day 72." Well.

The picture is of Sally, our fearless leader. ]

Today we finally quit messing around and headed south. The trip was highlighted by two wrong turns (one was a 10-mile jaunt around a beautiful island), a chat w/ a bunch of new-age hippies driving a mini-schoolbus, and a spectacular bridge. The main hippie was "Earthstar", and their propane-burning bus gets 7 miles a gallon.

Oh, and there was the stop for a pizza and a Guinness. ]

...was definitely the highlight for today. We had a leisurely 20 mile ride, followed by a 6-mile sprint to make the ferry. Then we tooled around this very cute town for a bit. A wood boat festival, lots of street performers, and a good chai latte rounded it out.

Since then we've biked another 10 miles to the laundromat, where I'm writing this while charging all my devices.

Afterwords, we have another 6-7 (flat) miles to the point of a peninsula which overlooks the city.

Today had lots of short but very steep hills, and I think I will sleep very well. ]

I types in a long msg and then lost it through stupidity. Gist: long day, I'm pooped.

Getting harrier.

The usual rabbit being sidetracked by shopping, I was first into the site today (a first). Of course it was a mostly flat day (the first 35 miles were basically a very gentle uphill), with only three tough climbs at the end.

I also hit 45 on a downhill, and in so doing missed what everyone thought was Mt St Helens, but was actually Rainier.

Overall, I felt pretty strong, so things are proceeding apace.

Today was very different from yesterday. Yes, it was a long slog away from the water, w/ three brutal climbs, but otherwise it was a 60-mile ride through pine-covered hillsides, w/ a beautiful blue sky and a gentle downgrade.

We're camping tonight in an RV park, I kid you not! And it's great: nice lawn for the tents, shade, hot showers, and a laundromat.

Also, I bought a 12-pack, which disappeared in about 15 minutes, so all in all it was a pleasant day.

In a couple days we'll be taking a rest day down in the coast, near Astoria.

First, I ba-kwaw'd four times today, and snorted twice.

The ride today was 60 miles w/ a 900-foot hill in the middle. Of course, the reality turned out not so severe as our fears. However, the nasty headwind and the 300-foot climb to the finish absolutely wiped me out. Most tired I've been.

Then, I had to cook. John, a Brit (brilliant! Spot on!), and I were the cooks. First we had to get to the site, early, empty our panniers, and go buy $265 of groceries, bring it back, and then cook for 15 (risotto). Luckily, cleanup was someone else's job.

We're currently camped at a marina on the Columbia River (lovely water sounds).Tomorrow, we take the ferry to Puget Island, then a bridge, a nasty climb, and then into Astoria. Evidently nice restaurants and great naval museum. We close out the relatively short day by biking 15 miles out to Port Stevens State Park, where we will spend our first rest day. I intend to rest my bum.

I was payed two complements today. The one I can relate in this G-rated forum is that my thighs were like "mighty pistons." I kind of like that, it's almost as if I were a character in one of the old pulp science fiction novels.

I had some good pictures today. Unfortunately, all on the camera rather than the phone. The first picture shows Nita, one of my three main riding companions. The other two, John (from Baltimore) and John (from London) evidently wandered off as I switched from the camera to the iPhone camera. I pull everyone on the straightaways, then they leave me for dead going up the hills.

The other picture is of a little shop where I got the caramel macchiato that powered me to the top of the big hill.

Oregon!: Made it to a new state today! Good-bye Washington.

The day started w/ a sprint for the 8 am ferry (after breaking camp, preparing breakfast, etc.). We had 4 miles and 10 minutes to go, really no chance unless they left late. Time was so tight none of the other five got their rear blinkies on. This was a problem, as the fog was thick, trucks common, and we really only had a vague idea where we were going. Nonetheless, we all made it, though the ramp was already 6 inches up when the last guy made it.

Then the big hill, where I hit the pavement for the first time. I snagged the guardrail w/ a pannier, the bike turned and down I went. No damage except my pride (I loudly declared that I had decided to stop in order to take off my jacket) and my front tire got knocked out of kilter a bit. I didn't figure out that my front brake was rubbing for 20 miles.

I communed with the sea lions! 100's of them on the wharf. I walked up to about four feet. They barked at me for a bit and then went back to sleep.

Layover day tomorrow. I might take my first dip in the Pacific.

Today was a rest day, so not much happening. Did laundry, walked the beach, and tried to swim. But it was cold! Also quite shallow far out, so you have to wade quite a ways, always being splashed by frigid waves. Almost worth it! I'll try again in a week.

A few notes on other days. Coons! Way back on the first night several of us crowded around to see a whole family of the cute varmints. That night, they ate all of the next day's lunch. The next day we hung the food about four feet off the ground. I was woken by the sound of lots of mewing and chittering, and the occasional slap of meat again a counter. I got out of the tent to find eight (8) raccoons trying to get the food. One would launch himself at the hanging bag, biting anything he could, and then fall hard on the dirt.. They'd already gotten most of our energy bars and half our bread. I charged into them but they didn't move. They just crouched down in a semi-circle around me, their eyes glowing. Not cute. I finally chased them off by throwing handfuls of pine needles.

Yesterday, after climbing the big hill, my powerful pistons pumping like some mad, raging metronome, my long downhill deposited me in front of a log-cabin'ish diner that screamed "pancakes" at the world. Not being one to ignore such a cry, I stopped, chatted w/ the waitress, and put a few pancakes out of their misery.

Bill, easily the funniest 60yo ex-marine I've met, sees my bike, stops in to see what I'm eating, and bellows, "wai-TRESS", give me a stack of them flapjacks!" We tipped well.

The picture is of an old wreck on the beach (the Peter Ireland?). You can see the bow, and all three mast casings. The bulk of the boat is there, under the sand.

Today we really started traveling the coast. Several high climbs with beautiful views.

We all agree that the climbs seen more manageable than when we started, but it's not clear whether we're stronger, or just smarter about the speed with which we try to take the hills.

On the (slight) down side, the logging trucks are more numerous as well. The truck drivers are actually pretty good about giving us space, they clearly are used to bikers. However, the enormous RV's towing SUV's are a different story.

Today, one of the highlights was to be a scenic shore ride, highlighted by a view of a scenic lighthouse. However, I didn't do any of that.

Instead, I and one other went to an air museum in tenomah (sp?). It's housed in a building that is said to be the largest all-wood building in the world, something like 1250 x 250 feet long.

It used to house 8 K8 military blimps, which were used in WW2 to spot Japanese subs off the west coast.

Today, there are all sorts of planes, from corsairs to F14s to autogyros to a little plane (enchamp?) that had very nervous pilots. These guys would fly the plane for live target practice! That is, gunners would practice by shooting at them.

I haven't mentioned too much about the camps. All Oregon coast is public land, and much of it is state parks. We're staying at hiker-Buker sites, $4 / person camping for those with with muscle-powered transport. Most of it is cyclists. Right now at this park, we have the 15 ACA bikers, 2 guys we've seen before (one had a skunk in his tent last night: he was out admiring the sunset), another two guys a haven't seen, 2 women biking Seattle to Monterrey, and a french family we've seen three times before. They're biking from Alaska to Mexico. The adults at both riding heavily loaded recumbents, with the 8yo pulled in a spiffy trailor by the mom. The little girl hopped up next to me as I photograghed the sunset. "il est tres belle, non?" I finally got out. She looked at me with utter disgust and gave me an emphatic "Non" before flouncing away. At least she understood me.

Today was 66 miles and 3521 feet climbing, definately the hardest day yet.

Let me describe the conditions a bit. I sleep in underwear, a long-sleeved under layer, a shirt, and my goretex jacket. My sleeping bag is rated to 40, but that might be a bit optimistic. By 3:30 or so, I wake up cold and put on my polartek pants, which I'd been using as a pillow. Then I use my sweatshirt for a pillow, which is some howless satisfactory. By then it's usually in the mid to high 40's, and misty.

Once the first zipper goes at a few minutes before six, pretty much everyone is up and moving about. By 6:20 or so the tents are usually cleaned out and we're having breakfast. For me, this is almost always cut up fruit, yogurt, and granola. We make two coldcut sandwiches each, even for the tiniest rider. We go through a lot of calories.

Today, we hit an 850-foot climb right ouside the front gate. I stuggled up this in my usual place, third or fourth, and then on we went. 25 miles later we hit the second big hill, 750 feet, but not as steep. This was much more to my liking. I'm strong, but I don't do well on the very steep climbs.

On this one I quickly paced away from the lead group, feeling pretty strong through 300 and 400 feet. By 500, I was hurting, but I thought I heard someone behind me, so I pushed on. By 600 I was in utter pain. Understand that hills this high MUST be taken with a high cadence to protect your knees. This does not come naturally to me.

It was at this point that Nita, she of the 29 marathons (so far), noticed me behind her, circled around me and began idly chatting as she casually climbed next to me. "You expect me to respond?" I gasped out. She laughed and said something about a captive audience.

The downhill made it all worthwhile, however. A beautiful road snaking through an old tree forest. A good downhiller just needs some mass and a lack of good sense, so absolutely noone in this group can stay with me.

Oh, and by now it's 75 and sunny. No rain so far at all.

And then at the end of the 3-mile downhill was a tiny pie shop that people had been recommending to us all day. Worth the wait.

We roll into the campsite later than usual, around 5pm. Set up tent, blow up mattress, go take shower, and we gather around the tables to kbitz while the cooks finish up. After cleanup, we have a map meeting where we discuss the next day's ride (it's dark by now, and we're in our tents by eight-thirty or nine.

Bliss is biking the Oregon coast on a warm, sunny day. I hate to be a downer, but this was not that day.

Last night was the coldest yet, and today the fog never lifted. So lots of hard slogging, topped by climbing narrow roads (some with no shoulder) in the fog. The only thing that got me through the last, long climb, was stopping for a welcome infusion of sugar and caffeine in the form of a blessed bottle of Mountain Dew.

Half way through the day I also stopped for the below meal. I felt I deserved it, but for those of you wondering how rapidly my gut is disappearing, well, I'm not totally sure...

After one night in the marina, we decided to move on and spend our off day elsewhere. Off we went, 58 more miles down the road. We ended up in a cute little state park next to a fishing village.

Last night we unfortunately had no signal on our phones. Panic! None of my gadgets work!

For those of you who don't know, I'm blogging from my iPhone, using an iPhone application that interacts with the wordpress blog. Since the iPhone can't connect to my camera, all of the pictures you see were taken with my phone. I have more and better pictures on the camera, but no way of downloading.

The iPhone also has a GPS. I'm updating my position on the map by emailing my coords to my machine at work. I wrote some scripts that catch these emails and toss them in a database. If you click through the map, my position is generated on demand by querying the database for the latest coords.

My other big gadget is the Kindle, an ebook reader from amazon. I have about 20 books on it, currently reading "World Without End," the sequel to "Pillars of the Earth," by Ken Follet. The kindle also can talk wirelessly through the sprint network, and the NYT is automatically downloaded each morning.

I do have to say, however, thAt the NYT hasn't been much fun reading recently.

Today was a fun 60-mile, 2951-foot ride. Some nasty climbs at the beginning, followed by a lot of rolling stuff afterwards. We had a headwind, but it wasn't that bad. Somehow, we had plenty of energy (see picture).

The rolling stuff was on "Seven Devils" road. Some wit had inscribed "first devil" etc on the road at each major crest. The last sadistically said "seventh devil, I think". Finally, there was a msg that read "the fun starts here", right before one of the steepest descents we have done. Indeed.

We had a potentially major problem today, one of the guys' tires blew. Tubes go all the time, but none of us carry a spare tire (of that sort, at least). Luckily, a couple of us were at a hardware store 10 miles further down the road, which actually had a cheap tire (no bike shops for another 25 miles). I donated the last bit of my cinnamon bun to Nita, who then raced back to rescue mike.

are just bizarre.

We've so far had very little friction among the 15 people, perhaps because we have so many. The average age is 56, much higher than the usual average of about 46. However, most are a lot of fun.

Bill, the ex-marine, tells a story that happened right before the tour. He has some sort of heart arrhythmia; when it happens he has to have his heart "restarted". He had problems 2 days before the tour, so he went into a doctor's office to have it done. The first thing they did was draw some blood, or try to. The nurse missed the vein on the first try. "You get one more try!" he said (his veins are quite prominent). She missed again, so he chased her out (probably bellowing) and eventually another nurse came in and got it done. Then they wheeled in the equipment to do the restart, but right before they started, one of the monitors went blank. "Hey," he said, "I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that should be on!" The nurse (same one), quailed and said "I knew the monitor had a battery backup, and I needed to plug in the coffee."

And slightly differently, a feq in the group got a bit obnoxious about wanting to segregate the snorers. Not a big deal, but it's not always possible, and it could have been done less confrontationally. Our leader was a bit nonplussed, but did come back the next night with a couple boxes of earplugs, and vetoed any such restrictions.

The funny part was that after the one night where we snorers camped together, one of the guys who is a self-professed light sleeper (but is a great guy) came back to camp with us. Evidently one of the complainers had, ahem, farted loudly and repeatedly all night long...

...is the place you oughta be.

Yes, we hit California today. Swimming pools, movie stars. Or rather, we hit Crescent City, which is a bit of a dump, and are staying at another RV park. Only five miles from one of the prettiest places I've ever camped, Jedidiah State Park among the redwoods. I was a bit put out by this until I realized that a) one of the main roads to Jedidiah is marked "no trailers", presumably because of steep roads, and b) we spend all day tomorrow among the redwoods.

Getting into Cal was fun (see picture). We were met at the agricultural inspection by a guy who introduced himself, said he'd biked across the country a few years back,and gave us each a little keychain flashlight.

The highlight of the day was watching Sir John (each of our three Johns has a nickname, Sir John is British) shovel our rice dish dinner back into the pot after it all spilled on the floor. This was first met with a shocked silence, before people started nervously saying things like "Uh, that looks fine John. Why not leave the rest on the floor where it is, next to the trash cans." But John kept shoveling it up, saying "You Americans are so easily shocked." in the end, we ate every bit.

The town of Crescent City is slightly creepy. To give you an idea, tonight at around 10pm a couple of us were sitting on a wharf drinking beer when we heard a wild snarling, splashing commotion. Across the way a couple kids had sic'ed their dog on a raccoon, and were egging him on, laughing and cheering. The dog and the coon were fighting to death in the shallow water. The snarling and splashing went on for quite a while before the dog emerged victorious. The kids moved on to torment some othe poor animal What is wrong with some people?

Tomorrow a 1250 foot hill! Aaweiigh!

1260 feet, 5 miles of 5 0rade, biggest single hill on the tour.

It started out innocuously, just a gentle upslope for the first half mile. It quicky pitched up, though. Pretty soon I was down on my granny (smallest chainring) in my third lowest gear, doing 4 miles an hour. By this time, I was spinning happily and nearing 200 feet up. The sun was shining and I was feeling good.

300 feet.

Still feeling strong, but not all that happy. Every turn included a sharp little upslope that destroyed my groove. And you have to have a groove to go up a big hill.

400 feet.

I'd carefully planned my assault on the hill. I got up slowly, took an extra shower, and made sure Nita and Count John, the beat two climbers, left before I did. Noone likes being passed on a hill. Being passed on a hill is a smackdown, a declaration that you aren't a real man. I'm sometimes a bit competitive.

500 feet.

Pretty trees.

600 feet.

Getting tired. I pulled off for a couple Oreos. Freshly recharged, I motored on.

700 feet.

The slope was getting steeper, so I shifted down and was now moving at 3.5 mph.

800 feet.

A figure in black appeared in my tiny rear view mirror. Black might mean Laura, a 20-something Brit who has shown signs of being able to outclimb me, but who usally stays in the back with her buddy, the oldest guy in the group. Or it could be my buddy Hans, an incredibly fit 60yo who probably built his own log cabin.

No chance, man! Not this time! I shifted up twice and roared off at 4.5 mph. 100 feet further on I fell back to 4 mph.

900 feet.

Maybe I was looking at this all wrong. Maybe I should sieze the opportunity to let it go, use this trip as an opportunity for a renewal, a catharsis if you will. Cruise up at my own pace and not worry about being passed. Come back home a changed man.

1000 feet.

Ha! Hans pulls off to take a break. Loser! Ha-ha-ha-ha! (just kidding)

1100 feet.

Somebody shoot me.

1200 feet.

The summit approaches, I crest the last rise and breath deeply. The cool, crisp air enlivens me. I feel my blood surge,, triumphant. I yodel, but not well.

All that's left is a beautiful downhill. 55 degrees, 35 mph. Hmm...maybe I should have worn socks under my sandles this morning.

Today was a bit of a no-op: 52 miles, but no serious climbing. A few folk had adventures. One guy's bike and trailer went separate ways while he was doing 20 mph. The trailer was kindling, but a local biking behind him went and got his truck and drove him to a bike shop.

Another guy yesterday broke several spokes and had to spend the night in a hotel, take a $200 taxi ride to a real town, and have his wheel rebuilt.

We saw elk today. I have pictures, but not on the phone. A guy was just explaining to us that there was just one stag for the whole herd (the harem), when the stag, um, started smooching with one of the harem. No pictures of that.

Also, remember the guy who was complaining about snoring the other day? He set his tent up in the middle of one of the three sites last night. We four snorers noticed and set up our tents in a ring around his. :-)

Today was a 64-mile jaunt, mostly through redwoods. We started with 26 tough miles to get to Ferndale, a town so pretty it could be Pleasantville. We stopped for second breakfast at Pappa Jo's, a diner straight out of a western, complete with a poker game going on in the back (at ten in the morning). Possibly the best pancakes I've ever had: they came with a big dollup of butter, which quickly melted and infused the pancakes. The edges were just a tad crispy.

Our campground is in the redwoods, almost as pretty as Jedidiah. As it was mostly empty, we reserved two sites on either side of a loop and set up our tents in between. Definitely the prettiest site we've camped at.

I need a day off. Seven straight days of biking is taking it's toll! I am totally out of energy. Luckily, tomorrow only 40-odd miles, though much of it is straight up.

(next day)

Went out the gate today and headed right up, 4.5 mile climb. Then 10 miles down. Then another mile up, steeper!

Then, glorious sun as we cruised along the beach. There was one downside, as a guy carrying nothing cruised past, bruising our egos. Luckily, Nita still had some energy and kicked his behind. We all felt better.

As we cruised along today, we came to the following realizations: 1) we were meant to do this, not to sit in some cubicle, and 2) we're in a groove. We could bike to Argentina if we want; we have the ability.

The pictures are of the other rabbits: John, Nita, and Bill, the three Johns: Count John (an analyst), Dr John (duh), and Sir John (a Brit). Also, me and someone.

(Intermittent postings because of poor connectivity in cal. Whoda figured?) Wife! We need to come back here. This is the most gorgeous swath of coast you can imagine. And as I keep saying, you really appreciate it when you work for every foot.

Tomorrow we bike nearly 70 miles to Bodega Bay. Wasn't this in Hitchcock's Birds? Some place called "Tide's Wharf" claims to have been in the film. Anyone know more?

The pictures include John about to enter the phone booth to become Bikerman! (i.e. apply Butt Butt'r).

Not only are the potsmokers mainstream, but they are unionized (why?) and have a sense of civic responsibility. I love this flag. Northern California is very dry and rural, bit there's always a nice flavoring of peaceniks and nutjobs.

Today (Sunday) was one of the hardest days of biking I've ever done, between the 69 miles, the 4700 feet of climbing (1000 feet more than any other day), and the narrow twisty uphills with no shoulder.

I started the day feeling half-awake, but definitely woke up after almost being creamed by an RV, who passed me up on a blind curve, no shoulder, and another RV coming the other way. I caught a glimpse of the passenger's shocked face as she slid by inches away. I don't know whether she was shocked because she thought I was about to be smushed, or if it was because she could hear what I was yelling at her. Just to make sure of the latter, I caught up with them on the downhill and repeated it all as loudly as I could.

Never really got the camera out today, too busy because I was one of the cooks. Today we made Thai curry that was nice, but bland.

Tomorrow we zip right through the city, not stopping. The problem is that it takes time to enjoy San Fran, and we just don't have it. However, we are going over the golden gate, so not a total loss.

After all the drama yesterday, today was a bit tame. However, we soon have monteray and big sur coming up, so the drama will return.

As I'm writing this, racoons enter the site and knock over a bike. Big racoons!

Update: screams and yells from the other part of our site where people are trying to get rid of a racoon that got inside of our wooden food box.

Update 2: my bike has been attacked twice (evidently the tube of Butt Butt'r in my handlebar bag smells nice), all panniers are now in the tent. They are prowling outside right now...this may be the last dispatch I can send before they break through...aaarrrggghhh....

Let's start at the end. This is my tent, on the absolutely pristine beach, surf softly crashing and roaring in the background. Since we went 69 tough miles today (including up and down some hills in SF), we're planning only 24 miles tomorrow. A nothing! Piece o' cake. Noone is allowed up before 7, intend to stay until it warms up a bit and try a spot of body-surfing.

We had to do 30 tough miles after SF, including the usual no-shoulder passes. However, no RV's today (not the weekend), so it was just a matter of putting your head down and going. However, at about 4:30 we had to stop for some carbs or we'd bonk. Hence the following picture, taken at a Taco Bell famous for it's view of the surfers.

Darn, battery dying. Short story: riding from bridge to wharf great. Coda to last night's attack: racoon got on food box, first guy up woke entire campground shouting to no avail, 60yo 95-lb grandmother got up, grabbed a hammer from the toolkit, and had the varmint gone in 30 seconds.

The jaunt into SF was a real eye-opener. I didn't really want to go to fisherman's wharf, but Hans looked very disappointed and so off we went.

As some of you might have seen once in a while, I can be a wee bit competitive. Yesterday, at the end of a long hard ride, I decided to try staying with our two climbers up a 700 foot hill. I was almost able to do it. Emboldened thereby, I seized the opportunity of a flat section with a tailwind to put my stamp on the group, to put the hammer down! I can't climb, but I CAN make some speed on the flats. Four miles averaging 23-24 mph later I eased up, as I could no longer see them in my rear view mirror Triumph! Huzzahs!

But as the endorphins faded, I realized that my thighs were in serious pain, and a calf about to cramp up. As we had no Gatorade or recovery drinks, and as I didn't sleep all that well (why sleep when you can stare at the pounding surf?), today was disasterous. 27 reasonably easy miles almost killed me.

We're in a crap KOA campground, quite a contrast from last night. Hard dirt for tents, swarming flies, no beach access. However, there are quite a few raised platforms (see pic). In theory, we weren't supposed to use them, but the chance to get away from the dirt and flies was just too tempting, so about half of us are using them.

At the camp store I had a chocolate milk, a coke, and an iced double espresso. Then I wandered back to my tent and immediately fell asleep, just in time for dinner.

Tonight, however, dinner was on the minds of others as well. A persistent rustling woke me up at midnight. I hopped out of the tent to rejoin the running battle with the 'coons, only to find myself staring at a skunk, about seven feet away, sitting in my bowl while it nibbled on half a granola bar that I'd left in my handlebar bag. Backing slowly away, I almost ran into the first one's mate, who was nibbling on another bike.

Waving my flashlight and saying "There's a freaking skunk in my bowl" quite loudly, and plaintively, helped convince them to amble off, in their own good time, towards a nearby RV (hate RVs).

From now on, I follow the example of Sally (our fearless leader) and will bring all five bike bags in the tent with me.

Santa Cruz: The first picture shows the platforms where we pitched our tents last night. No dirt, no flies!

Steve, who has already had a number of problems, including his trailer breaking down twice (finally buying a good used trailer from a sympathetic shop owner), had another problem today: the bolt holding his seat on broke. He rode the last ten miles sitting on an assemblage of two tennis shoes, held together by duct tape.

The picture of John's tent show duct tape covering up six bite marks ... from the skunks. The skunks were nibbling on his tent! What if he had heard them, figured them to be 'coons, and kicked out? You might think we smell bad now...

Finally, met up with Maryland buddies Lise+Pete for a great sushi lunch. Very strange to ride in a car again. I almost feel as if I've slipped through the back of the wardrobe into another world, but that the two worlds just momentarily co-existed. Kayaking on Saturday!

Saturday was a layover day in Monterey, coinciding with our first rain of the tour. However, it was all gone by 11 or so, so no worries. Layover days are a bit odd in that, while absolutely necessary to recover after a lot of riding, they're a bit boring.

I think this is because of the lack of structure and forward momentum. We're used to having a daily mileage goal. Though most of us aren't really looking forward to the end yet, the goal of going border to border is important to all of us. Any mileage northwords is bad, any mileage to the south is good. Layover days mess all that up. That said, today wasn't bad. Most of us did laundry and then headed to the Monterey aquarium, surely on of the most spectacular in the world. The pictures show the jellies, of course, but also a diver who was feeding the fish (including small sharks) in the kelp forest while keeping up a running conversation with the audience through a microphone in his wetsuit. Tomorrow we hit it, the biggest climbing day of the tour: about 70 miles and 9000 feet in and through Big Sur.

(two days without cell service, more later)

Today was Big Sur, the biggest climbing day on the itinerary at 60 miles and 9500 feet up. My computer measured about half that, but as I've said before, I think that my computer intentionally smooths out the small stuff. At 4800 feet measured, it's still the biggest so far.

if you've been out here, there isn't much to say: Big Sur is just gorgeous. On top of that, we had a brilliant day to ride: flawless blue sky and only a hit of smoke from the fires evidently raging over the hills.

The day's highlights included i) watching the helicopters come fill their waterbags in the pacific and then release high on the hill, ii) the views, iii) having condors fly maybe 50 feet over our heads (2) and viewing one through a scope good enough to let me read it's tag number (298), iv) a beautiful sunset and moonrise over the pacific, and v) seeing two whales spout (and their backs).

Lowlights include being delayed 15 minutes because of a shoot for a new audi model, and the lack of potable water and showers at our campground (the one we're supposed to use is being used by firefighters).

By the way, we saw "Burn Before Reading" during the layover day: it should have been better than it was.

We're definately in SoCal now: today we biked 60 miles through 95 degree heat in absolutely miserable winds. The most alarming part is that tomorrow we have a 75-mile day, potentially in the same conditions.

The anticipation of the end is starting to mount. We touch the Mexican border in a week. I'll be incredibly happy to see my family again, but there's no denying that there will be quite a bit of sadness mixed in with the triumph.

John and Nita head out in this morning. We go from 40's at night to 90's in daytime.

Me in some borrowed shades. Off-camera while this was taken, a 20yo kid came up to Nita and said, "Hey, maybe you and I should kick it tonight."

Today was another absolute scorcher, and also easily the longest day at 80 miles. 80 miles on a loaded touring bike climbing hills on a 90-degree day! I actually woke up late today (6:23), having had kind of a miserable night because of a cold. John and Nita had to wait at least 15 minutes, so I was shocked to learn that it was still only 7:35 when we pulled out, having breakfasted, made lunch (only pb&j was left), and broken camp.

My sleep was also broken by the sound of two other tourers we have repeatedly encountered talking, and another animal raid. I awoke to a very low, loud growl a couple feet from my head. Then some critter hit my tent, hit john's a few feet away, and then we heard sounds scampering away and the night quieted. Next day, I learned a few things: 1) Nita had been coming back from the bathroom and had seen 4 very large racoons running away 2) Jeff had been waking up Ayel for the walk to the bathroom, because he had ben told by the camp host nonto walk alone at night, 3) the reason for the above was that the camp had had mountain lions spotted recently, and 4) I found a BIG pawprint. Now, you may think I'm jumping to conclusions, but it's my blog, and therefore a mountain lion definitely threw a racoon at my tent last night.

My self-portrait was taken just after climbing the "Harris Grade", a notorious (we were warned about it the day before by another tourer) 900 foot hill, and not happy. Parts of this hill were ridiculously steep, the sun was beating down, and I was moving so slowly that some of the flies stayed with me for a while. One (I called him Fred) landed on my arm, leg, buzzed around some more, and then landed on the tip of my nose.

The last two miles today were to be a 2.5 mile bike path. Unfortunately, it was closed. However, we were able to squeeze past, so we did (we are"Adventure" cyclists). Unfortunately, the other end was more secure. However, I spotted a rip in the fence, so we were able to drag our bikes up and over some rails to the highway beyond. Most of the others got to this point and turned around, though Bill, the ex-marine, was able to lift his loaded bike over the 6-foot fence at the end and proceed directly.

Thusday was a wee 60-ish day without much climbing. Basically, the hard climbing days are over, what's left is to bike through LA and San Diego and get to the border.

The owner of the hotdog fancies himself a philosopher, and it's certainly true that his tasty dogs saved us today. Soon thereafter, we made a wrong turn and ended up spening an hour eating gellato (dark chocolate for me) in a cafe in Ventura.

The last picture is a Beautiful pier jutting out from Ventura. Surfers everywhere; next time I'm going to try this myself.

Tonight we're in the Malibu Beach RV park. Doesn't that sound like an oxymoron?

Today we had a fierce tailwind (great when riding, not so great if trying to sit on a beach) and a short route at 44 miles, so I was of a mind to take it easy. For the most part, we did. However, that fell apart when The Rabbit Clan (John, Nita, me, and usually Bill) got passed by one of the local posers, acting all casual, and then his girlfriend. Nita waited until a hill was coming, and then took off. I laughed, ready to enjoy the show, until John shouts, "She's our girl, we gotta support her!" and tears off as well. Sigh. John and I almost caught her before she whipped past the locals and then waited at the top for us. This sort of silliness makes us happy :-)

Wind gusts are supposed to hit 60 mph over the next couple days, but sunshine will continue. Getting close! Pictures show Bill doing his best Slim Pickens imitation, and our tents set up in the dirt above Malibu.

The day started last night, in this innocent-seeming setting, high above the beach at the Malibu RV park :-). They charged an exorbitant amount for a small plot of dirt, supposedly good for 4 people each. Fine, we set up our tents to make the best of it.

However, it turns out that there was another restriction: 2 tents per square of dirt. We came up with some possible solutions, e.g. run a bungie cord betwen two tents and call it one. In the end, however, we just got stubborn and eventually they found someone else to harass.

Just before settling in, some kind soul mentioned that the weather report called for 60 mph gusts of wind. We pounded our stakes a bit deeper and went to sleep....but not for long. The wind howled all night: gusts that felt like they'd flatten the tents coupled with dirt from the site. Basically, we were sand-blasted all night long. This wasn't just outside; small particles of dirt/sand went through our tent mesh at will. When I finally got up, at my usal time of about six, the top of my sleeping bag, my hair, etc. all had a crusting of dirt.

The campsite was even more fun. Bikes blown over, group supplies blown away. Others had it worse. Several sites had been abandoned by people, presumably to sleep in their cars. Lucky all our tents held, as we had no cars to go to.

However, the wind was still blowing when we awoke. Worse, it was blowing from the south, meaning a head wind. Sally, our tour leader, feared a debacle and tried to shove us out on the road as soon as possible. She was even talking about alternate destinations if the 58 miles was too much in a headwind.

So the rabbits (John, Nita, and I) hit the road at 7:06. The first hour was indeed tough, but then a funny thing happened. It turned into a beautiful, calm day. It basically turned into a long beach cruise (Malibu, Hermosa Beach, Venice Beach, Long Beach, etc). More fancy cars than I can ever recall seeing. We rolled into our destination (a hotel!) to spend our first night in over a month in some place other than our tents. The rooms have very nice showers, soft clean sheets, and the 40 minutes I spent in the pool/hot tub were just bliss. Time is getting short now. We have a long day tomorrow, followed by two short days to the border. Only one more night spent in our trusty tents. Less than a week, before I'm finally home.

Pictures include a sailing ship dating to 1810, originally chartered as a privateer (Redondo Beach), ubiquitous pelicans, essential nourishment, and proof that the fishermen do, evidently, catch fish.Pelican at he fish-cleaning table.

Very difficult getting going today! The hotel was quite comfortable, the wind was blowing again, and Sally was even taking about possibly bailing to a hotel if we couldn't get the mileage in.

This was the wind that greeted us outside the hotel. A gust of wind ok a bridge a mile further blew us into the guardrail and made if VERY difficult to get across. A local who had watched us struggle across the bridge stopped to give us aid, and worriedly asked us how far we were going. "About a half mile more if this keeps up," was our response.

Nonetheless, we persevered, and eventually the wind, while not dying down, moved mainly to the side. It continued the rest I the afternoon, but was manageable.

I thought one of the high points today was going to be a 16 mile jaunt through a marine base. Alas, the only uniforms we saw were at the entrance gate, and the roads were mostly empty. The sound of an approaching vehicle did occur at one point. Would it be a humvee? A halftrack? A tank? It was...a volkswagon bug. The only people we talked to the whole time were two cheerful 7yos on a swingset.

There are fires burning all over California. Above is a view from our campsite.

Finally, everyone suffers equally from the wind, but people take different approaches to the sun. Mike (Lawrence) and John (the shiek) take one approach, Sally, Nita, and Laura take a different approach.

We briefly discussed going to legoland today, but the $59.95 price tag changed our minds. Instead, we biked 33 miles to the hostel, and then went to the beach. Tomorrow we bike to the border, snap some pictures, and come back. A local bike shop will box up the bikes and ship them.

The hostel is actually pretty cute, and one of the worker bees agreed to get up at 6:30 to make coffee and pancake batter:-).

The pictures are of the hostel's front, main room, and the dorm room where we'll be staying (I have the back upper bunk on the left. Plenty of room for me to wiggle my toes off the edge. )

2100 miles, border to border.