Saturday, October 29, 2011

"Cycling through my old stomping grounds ... greater Santa Monica area"

Four more rides and the CanMexPac epic ride will be completed.  Dennie’s brother got us ridiculous low room rates at the LAX Crowne Plaza, so we will be riding from Ventura to LAX on this leg of the ride.  As I said in my last post, I spent my junior high and high school years in Santa Monica, so this ride is going to be cruising through my old stomping grounds.  Early in the morning we headed out of Ventura, proceeding through Oxnard and down towards Point Mugu.  Just before we got to Point Dume, and were passing by the Port Hueneme Naval Station, I glanced over at the aircraft display and thought I saw a familiar figure taking pictures. So I slowed down and yelled, “JAMIE!”  The figure paused from taking pictures and looked my way and broke into a big smile.  He said, “Stay right where you are and I will come over there.”  Andrew was the teacher on sabbatical that was from Reading, England.  Jim and I rode with Jamie on the leg from Daly City to Santa Cruz not quite a week earlier. And days later, here we were riding with him again.  He had caught up with one of his riding friends also, Jackie, and they were riding south together, or kind of together.  Jamie would ride ahead and then wait for Jackie, and then ride miles ahead and stop and wait for her again, and that is how they rode “together”. Jackie was from San Diego and had just lost her job, so she headed up to Seattle to bike the coast and then look for another job when she got back home.  She was hauling a big bike trailer behind her bike so I could only imagine how she did on the hills.  So now Jamie rode with us and when we stopped for pics, or bio breaks or water, he would wait for Jackie to show up.  As we rode south from Port Hueneme and around Point Mugu, I was looking for the northernmost beach that I would go to regularly when I was living in Santa Monica, a beach by the name of Zuma Beach.  When I went to Zuma, I went there because it was totally deserted, almost primitive; no buildings or residences around at all.  On our ride, I was having a difficult time finding that primitive beach as I knew it.  Finally, at a stop light we paused and I looked at the map.  Much to my disappointment, we were right in the middle of Zuma beach and the reason I could not find it was because now there were beach houses lining about 75% of what used to be Zuma beach and the remaining 25% was parking lots, hot dog stands and rental shops.  Oh well, that’s progress, and another “shoulda, woulda, coulda” opportunity; I should have invested in empty, remote beach front property. 
After Zuma, we proceeded down through more familiar territory; Malibu, Topanga, Sunset Boulevard and finally Santa Monica.  Those places were pretty developed when I was going to high school, so not much had changed, except everything was smaller than I remembered.  Isn’t that the way it always is when you go back?  One thing that had changed was the cement bike path they added on the beach so we did not have to contend with Pacific Coast Highway traffic once we got into Santa Monica.  It did make me nervous to take curves on slick cement covered with a film of sand, but we both managed to keep the wheels down and the helmets up.  The ride through the Santa Monica beach area was interesting, but uneventful. 
After Santa Monica, we rode through the Venice beach area; also uneventful but always much more interesting.  Venice is a collection of some very, very interesting people; my pictures won’t do it justice though.  After Venice and riding around Marina del Rey, we left the coast and headed over to LAX and the Crowne Plaza. 
The Crowne Plaza was both the nicest place we had stayed during our trip and was most inexpensive place we stayed at during our trip.  Nice combination, huh?  Of course I am not counting staying at friends places in the nicest and most inexpensive combination category.  Staying at friends and family was absolutely the best of times. 
After a nice night at the Crowne, we headed south once again.  As I grew up in southern California, this was all familiar with me.  The route took us inland through Torrance and Lomita and I suggested an alternative.  I told Jim it would be a bit longer but much more interesting if we circled around the Palos Verdes peninsula instead; and there would be a few more rollers if we went the Palos Verdes route.  Jim agreed to take my detour and I think he enjoyed it; I know I enjoyed it.  After the detour, we had to get back to the route and some of the connecting roads took us through what must be the arm pit area of the southern California coast area; the dirty little city of Wilmington that lies between San Pedro and Long Beach.  After Wilmington, we made it in to Long Beach and promptly lost the bike trail in the waterfront area.  After backtracking a few times, we said the heck with the bike trail and we rode the roads again. 
After Long Beach, we rode through the Orange County beaches; Seal Beach, Surfside, Sunset Beach, Bolsa Chica and Huntington Beach.  Huntington Beach was where Dennie dropped her mom off which meant now Dennie would be alone in the SAG wagon.  It also meant Dennie and I would no longer have to share our room on the road with her mother, which also has some benefits (now I will see who is really reading this blog).  After Huntington Beach, we rode the Pacific Coast Highway through Newport Beach and then we had to detour inland to the Laguna Hills area because we were spending the next couple of nights at my favorite cousin’s place.  I don’t think I actually have any cousin’s reading this blog, including my favorite cousin, so I probably won’t offend any family members.  I told Jim I only remember a few rollers and one serious half mile climb to get to my cousins place.  As we were heading up our first hill, Jim glanced up and glanced at some houses that were the highest houses he could see up on the ridges miles ahead and he was glad we were not going to have to climb up to those houses; little did he know.  Also I had only remembered a few rollers, because every time I had done this ride before, I was heading to Dennie’s mom’s house in Huntington Beach and it was a very easy ride.  I guess that was because it was downhill when you go to Huntington Beach. 
The direction we were now cycling had a lot more climbing than I remembered, and Jim was starting to have his doubts about my integrity when it came to me describing rides.  The last climb up to my cousins (to the houses highest on the ridge he had seen earlier) turned out to shatter my remaining ride description integrity when what I said was about a half mile ended up being about a mile and a quarter.  At least when we pulled up to my cousins place, Jim found he was in luxury for a few days and he had a best buddy for the next couple of days, Lola.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

"Some days are better ... than others"

The last time I posted on the blog, Jim and I had just completed a 95 mile ride down the Big Sur coast, and it was beautiful.  After a rest day in San Simeon, Jim and I proceeded south down to Pismo Beach.  While we were riding to Pismo Beach, Dennie and her mom were touring Hearst Castle, definitely a ‘don’t miss’ place to see.  I had taken the tours before, so cycling was a priority to me.  Jim was convinced he would not enjoy it, so I did not dissuade him and we proceeded cycling south.  The ride was nice, but the coast was foggy and it never lifted.  That made for a pleasant ride through Morro Bay, and then over to San Luis Obispo and then down to Pismo Beach, but it was not epic or one of our best rides.  It was just a nice ride down the central California coast, but nothing close to Big Sur, or the northern California coast, or the redwoods, or Oregon coast and Washington.  It was just another leg we had to complete in order to get to our Mexican border endpoint goal. However, it did turn out to be a much better ride than the following day. 
The next day we got up and Jim and I headed towards Lompoc or Buellton.  We had reservations at Motel 6 in both destinations.  It was the first time we would be staying at a Motel 6 and Jim was not thrilled it was the only location we could find vacancies on a Saturday night.  That, in itself, should have been a ‘go back, it’s a trap’ signal.  So we started pedaling south and on the way, Jim let me know how unimpressed he was with his last Lompoc experience, so we mapped out Buellton as our destination.  Pismo Beach was the last time we cycled next to the ocean for the day.  As we were going south, we came to the little city of Guadalupe. In the late 70’s, I used to hang glide and I spent many, many week-ends camping and hang gliding with lots of my buddies in the dunes west and south of the little city of Guadalupe.  In the evening, we would head in to Guadalupe for a Mexican dinner at the Guadalajara CafĂ©.  When Jim and I cycled in to town, the main street was closed off because they were have a little fiesta that day.  Jim loved it because all the local brought their cars in and had a little car show at the same time.  It seems that Jim was quite the dragster enthusiast years ago in Albuquerque.  So, Guadalupe was probably the highlight of the day. 
After Guadalupe, the temp started going up, we were no longer on the coast and the ride just became a real drudge.  Finally we made it in to Buellton to the wonderful Motel 6.  While we were getting something to drink in a convenience store, we asked a lady we saw in the parking lot if she knew the directions to Motel 6.  She replied, “Yes, but why would you want to go there?” It turns out she managed a Quality Inn and we did a little parking lot negotiating, and wheeling and dealing.  She moved the price down considerably to get us in, but not quite low enough to get us to cancel the Motel 6.  In retrospect, we should have closed with her.  The Motel 6 sucked.  The ride that day sucked (temperatures reached the mid 90’s) and our accommodations sucked.  It was not our best day and we were both in agreement, it was not one we want to repeat. 
Next day we went down to the McDonald’s for a great breakfast (Motel 6 had no microwaves or coffee machines), and Jim and I headed for Ventura, via Santa Barbara.  When we got on the 101, for the first time, we saw a sign that said ‘no cyclists’.  The day before, I called up the California Highway Patrol dispatcher and she said no cyclists north of Buellton on 101, but because there were no frontage roads south of Buellton on 101, cycling was permitted.  I was actually hoping that we were stopped by the CHP because I thought it would make an excellent blog post.  But, it turned out the ride from Buellton, down to the coast at Gaviota, was uneventful.  When we got to the coast, fog again, and it was foggy or overcast all day.  We rode down to Santa Barbara, and through UC Santa Barbara, and down towards Ventura. Just short of Carpinteria, I heard a ‘ping!’ and my bike jerked like it hit something. Jim heard it also and as I looked back to see what I might hit, I could not see anything in the road.  About a quarter mile later, I heard a ‘twang, twang, twang’, and I stopped the bike.  It turns out I had popped a spoke on my rear wheel somehow, and we were not going to be able to get it fixed due to the fact I was riding Ksyrium SL rims.  So, we called up the SAG wagon, and waited.
I noticed a little lady nearby, selling strawberries, huge strawberries, so I bought a little basket to console myself.  Fortunately, Jim had foreseen possible worst case situations and we brought a spare rear wheel.  After Dennie arrived with the SAG wagon and picked us up, we drove the short distance to Ventura.  At the motel, Jim put my bike up on the stand, changed out the rear wheel, did a few rear derailleur adjustments, and I was good to go again. 
That evening, we headed to the Anacapa Brewing Company to try some of their finest because we had another great ride the next day.  The next day we were going to be riding down to LAX, which meant we were going to be going through Malibu, Santa Monica, Venice and other places that used to be very familiar to me.  Years and years ago, I graduated from Santa Monica High School, so we were going to be pedaling through my old stomping grounds.


Thursday, October 20, 2011

"Ninety five ... and still alive!"

I am talking about ninety five miles, not ninety five years.  Once again, my fears and apprehensions about the upcoming days route were unfounded.  Tuesday, by agreement, we rode very easy from Santa Cruz to Carmel because we knew we had a big ride to do on Wednesday.  It was impossible to get reasonable reservations for two rooms on the Big Sur coast, so we were going to do a more than 90 mile route and ride the entire Big Sur coast in one day.  The mileage was not my concern. I was concerned about the amount of climbing, and the road condition, the shoulders and the RV’s.  Jim thought it was going to be about 5,000 feet of climbing.  I looked at the profiles while we were in Santa Cruz and I estimated 10,000 feet of climbing based on prior profiles for other parts of the coast we had already completed.  Whatever it was, we knew we wanted to ride easy from Santa Cruz to Carmel, so that is what we did on Tuesday. 
Riding out of Santa Cruz through Soquel, Capitola and Aptos, there were a few rollers, but when we rode down into the Watsonville area, we rode through miles and miles of farmlands.  The primary crops were artichokes, strawberries and Brussels sprouts. After the farmlands, the route put us on a nice bike path for many miles between sand dunes and what used to be Fort Ord until the bike path ended at Monterey. 
Jim and I biked out onto the wharf, because we missed a turn and checked out the wharf business; mostly fishermen, fish, seagulls, pelicans, a few sea lions and a few more tourists.  No sea otters, though, but I did see one sea otter in Elkhorn lagoon when we passed Moss Landing.  After Monterey, we found our motel in the Carmel River area.  Jim and I were ahead of the SAG team, Dennie and her mom, so we went and found a burger place that served beer and we fueled up.  It was an easy ride and it should set us up for what I thought was going to be an epic, or maybe even a major ordeal the next day, when we rode the entire Big Sur coast in one 95 mile ride.
Next day we got up early and told Dennie that this was going to be a real SAG day because there was not going to be convenience stores or many places to eat along the coast.  We set up a place to meet 50 miles down the road and told her to be there at half past noon.  Then Jim and I set out at 8AM, pedaling south.  We passed Point Lobos and the coastal areas south of Carmel; very, very nice houses perched on hillsides overlooking private little bays and priceless coastal views.  I never saw Clint Eastwood, former mayor of Carmel.  Oh well, he did not ‘make my day!’ 
Continuing to head south we crossed over the bridge to Big Sur that Dustin Hoffman and “Mrs. Robinson” made famous. 
And then we came to the lighthouse on the large rock structure, attached to the coast by a spit of sand, that I consider to be  north end of the Big Sur coast.  By this time, I was slowing Jim down because I kept saying, “Stopping! Picture!”  I spent a lot of summers in this area when I was growing up, so I was thinking of a lot of memories.  Dennie and I spent some quality time in this area also, before we started making boys. 
We started going inland on Highway 1 and through the community of Big Sur.  We stopped in Big Sur to consume a sandwich and I called Dennie.  Or more accurately, I attempted to call Dennie unsuccessfully.  No cell coverage where we were in Big Sur.  This was going to make for an interesting day for the only day that we told Dennie she would have to seriously SAG. Jim and I continued to pedal south; pedaling, climbing, chasing cars going downhill and only interrupted by me saying, “Stopping! Picture!” 
We passed a sign that said Hearst Castle 45 miles, so we were half way.  About 5 miles later, we were at our 50 mile mark where we were going to meet Dennie and the SAG wagon, but Dennie was not there.  I guess I need to cut Dennie some slack though, because we were 30 minutes early.  Also, due to cell coverage, I could not raise Dennie on the cell.  So we decided to eat what we had, drink what was left and proceed to the next little community of Gorda and hope she would also.  We also kept looking north to see if we could see her on the road.  As we were finishing up what we had left we thought we could see the van about a couple miles north heading our direction.  We kept looking, and sure enough, we could see a van with a Thule pod and Bill’s bike on the top, so the SAG was on the way.  I decided to be cute and lay my bike down in the parking lot and prostrate myself on the pavement like I was totally exhausted.  Dennie pulled in the parking lot and drove up to me and honked the horn to get me out of the way.  I asked, “What!? Weren’t you worried about me?” She replied, “Jim did not look too concerned so why should I be concerned.”  Next time I need to get Jim more involved or stop being cute.  We still had a very big climb to do so we discussed what we wanted to do next.  Did we want to ride most of the way to San Simeon, our destination, and stop and let Dennie portage us in the rest of the way; or did we want to do the entire 95 miles and get in real late and make it a long, long day of cycling.  I said, “I have hundreds of people reading my FaceBook and my CanMexPacRide blog and I already told them we were doing 95 miles today and 10,000 feet of climbing.  I can’t tell them we only did 75, or whatever?” Jim muttered something that could probably be translated as, “Rookie, don’t ever show your hand and don’t ever do that again.” 
So we continued to pedal south to San Simeon for me and our fans.  We did have one more major climb, but I just took it at an easy pace, and it was not too bad.  We also had road construction that stopped us 3 times.  One of the construction stops was very interesting.  There was a boulder about the size of two bedrooms or a very large living room, poised about 200 feet up a cliff, over the highway.  Traffic was stopped and there was a crew of about 10 climbers up the cliff trying to dislodge the boulder, so it came down on their schedule and not nature’s schedule.  We pedaled to the front of the line and we watched 30 minutes while they worked on the boulder.  After about 30 minutes, they decided that they HAD to let traffic pass and that it was safe enough to pass.  They got a front loader to clear one lane of Highway 1 of all the landslide rocks that had tumbled down while working on the big boulder, and then the flagman told Jim and I to go, and he would release traffic in a few moments.  So we pedaled our butts off and continued south. 
About this time, the wind started picking up and what was a mild tailwind for most the day, became a strong tailwind.  We left the mountainous Big Sur coast and we had about 20 miles to go to San Simeon.  With the tailwind, we were doing about 20-22 mph.  Up ahead we could see a lot of cars parked and people walking around.  As we rode up, we discovered we were at the sea elephant refuge and Dennie, her mom and the SAG wagon were there also.  There was probably a “trillion, trillion, trillion, trillion, million … billion” sea elephants.  I asked Dennie and Jim how many there were and they said, “Make something up”, so that is where that big number came from.  I think there were actually 200-300 sea elephants in a stretch of beach a bit less than a mile long.  They were making a ruckus, and fighting with each other.  Their fights were hilarious.  They would push, bite and bark at each other for about 30-45 seconds, and then they would both drop down exhausted, next to each other and neither would move for another five minutes. This was being repeated up and down the beach, between piles of sleeping sea elephants.  We were up on a small bluff, probably 20 feet up from the beach, behind a rail, and the sea elephants were about 10-15 yards away.  It was a great end, a nice dessert to a long ride. 
After the sea elephants, we continued to get blown in to San Simeon where we will stay two nights and have our rest day. Oh, and I was worried more than necessary.  It was not a 95 mile ride; it only turned out to be 94 miles. And we did not have to climb 10,000 feet; we only climbed 6800 feet.  And the pavement was very good for most of the ride, with good shoulders, and the drivers and RV's were well behaved, for the most part.  Next stop will be Pismo Beach, California.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

"Cruising in to Santa Cruz ... "

Monday morning and it was time to ride to Santa Cruz from Daly City.  Actually it was past time.  For the first time on the trip, somehow I messed up setting my alarm.  We planned on rolling out from the motel at about 8AM and at about 8AM I heard this voice outside our door, “Marvin, are you awake?” Crap! I was not awake, I was not dressed for a ride, I had not eaten breakfast, made my sandwiches, filled my water bottles and checked my tires.  I had not done any of these things because I was still asleep. Crap! I opened the door and let Jim know that I was going to still be a “few” minutes, and then I started moving fast.  I usually give myself 2 hours for my morning routine which also includes packing a few things in the van to assist Dennie.  This time Dennie assisted me and we found out we could get me out the door in 40 minutes.  That was good to know because that meant I was going to sleep 30 more minutes each day and cut my two hour preparation to an hour and thirty minutes.  At 8:40AM, we were cycling down the road.  Our route avoided Highway 1 through Daly City and took a lot of back streets instead, up and down hills.  Daly City, like San Francisco, is a hilly little city.  On one of the hills, I was trailing Jim and I was overtaken by a guy on a touring bike with panniers and bar end shifters, he was wearing water shoes and pedaling on platform pedals.  His shorts and T-shirt were billowing and he had a camera over his shoulder.   Rather than pass me, he came up alongside and asked me in an English accent, ”Where are you going?”  I decided to play it cute and said, “San Diego.” He replied, “Brilliant, so am I!”  It seems Jamie, age 31, was a school teacher from Reading, England that was on sabbatical.  He wanted to do three things on sabbatical: ride the Trans-Siberian Railway, take a cycling trip and go to South America.  He decided that cycling the Pacific coast was in between Russia and South America, so that made the most sense logistically.  From Russia, he flew in to Portland, bought his bike and some gear and he was heading south to San Diego where he planned on selling the bike and then continuing on to South America.  Isn’t it fantastic when a plan comes together? To stay within his budget he uses an internet service at CouchSurfing.com.  Apparently you just check your destination and see who is participating and someone makes their couch/room available for you.  After the stay, your host rates you on the site and you rate your host.  He said he is meeting a lot of great people this way and keeping costs down.  Jamie is also blogging his trip for his students and anyone can check it out at hellomrb.tumblr.com. 
The ride was pretty uneventful, about 72 miles and 3700 feet of climbing.  There was alternating times of sunshine and then fog, regular California coast weather.  At one of our rest stops where we stopped for a meal and a break.  I ordered the seaside special: two eggs, hash browns, toast and a slab of salmon.
We met two couples from Switzerland.  They flew into San Francisco, rented two Harleys and they were also biking the California coast, although their bikes were a bit bigger than ours. They wanted to know how far we were riding and we replied, “Today or altogether?  Today we are riding 70 miles to Santa Cruz and our plan is to ride to San Diego.”  They were amazed because they said they found it difficult to ride their Harley’s for 70 miles, and could not conceive of bicycling to San Diego.  After our break, we continued on into Santa Cruz and Jamie left us with a comment, “You guys really motor along! I have been riding from Portland and of all the riders I have ridden with, only one other could keep up with me, and he was nineteen years old.” I said, "I'll tell you a secret.  See that guy pulling us up the hill.  That's the famous Jim McGeezer.  He's 69 years old!"

Pacifica, California



Monday, October 17, 2011

"I am little behind ... in my blog, I mean"

I am so far behind on my blog since Bill went down.  Jim was a big part of the ride as a friend but also logistically.  He did a lot of things that included where we would be eating dinner and making our reservations for our next destinations which freed me up to update FaceBook and do our blog.  I have so many stories to tell and not enough time to write them.  There is the story of the other riders we have met on the route; we are not the only pony in this rodeo.  And while Bill was in the hospital, we visited Fort Ross and the next day we did some very special wine tasting.  The wine tasting was special because some of Dennie’s “in-laws” on her sister’s side were in the wine business and we got some very special business.  We also got trapped in Santa Rosa because we could not get rooms on a Saturday night anywhere in the Bay area, so Jim and I took brewery ride and hit the Russian River Brewery twice, once before our ride for lunch without the brew, and then once after the ride to do some serious rehydration.  Then yesterday we rode into San Francisco over the Golden Gate bridge.  That actually was emotional, after all the miles and the accident with Bill, it was iconic to ride across that bridge.  Today we rode to Santa Cruz and tomorrow we ride to Carmel.  Then on Wednesday we intend to ride 93 miles with tons of climbing with Hearst San Simeon as our destination.  And on Thursday, we will rest for a day, and we will need it.
Fort Ross

Wine tasting at Joseph Phelps vineyard



Jim waiting for an IPA


Thursday, October 13, 2011

"Man Down ... "

This will be the post I hoped I did not have to post on my blog.  Yesterday (Wednesday, 12 October), one of us had a biking accident that will result in only two riders proceeding with the rest of the ride.  The morning started out well.  The three of us departed early from Fort Bragg, California.  We departed early because we planned on riding 93 miles, so we had a long day in front of us.  Sometimes I would stop for a photo/bio break and Bill and Jim would proceed on and I would catch up.  Or a few times Jim and I would stop at the same time (maybe our bladders are of similar size or we are drinking similar quantities), and Bill would say, “I am going to ride on because you guys will catch me.” So for a lot of Wednesday’s ride from Fort Bragg, California to Jenner, Jim and I found ourselves chasing Bill.  It is impossible to say the California coast is boring, but sometimes the movie Groundhog Day came to mind.  We would ride south for a few miles, up and down small rollers, sometimes not so small rollers.  Then there would be a 20 mph curve and a quick descent to the left and to the east, and then across a small bridge usually over a creek, and then another hairpin turn and climb up to the right and west back up to the top of the bluff.  At the top there would be a left turn and we would again proceed south for a few miles and then we would repeat it all again.  A few miles of rollers, 20 mph turn, drop down left, hairpin right, climb out, make a left and we would cycle again down the coast a few miles, repeat, repeat, and repeat.  Some of the drops down into these little canyons were into heavy forest with damp needles on a wet road, not a good combination.  And sometimes there was even moss on the road. 
Occasionally I would stop and take pictures, sometimes Jim would stop with me and usually Bill would ride on.  Jim and I were riding south, commenting, “Here we go again”, when we would drop left and climb right.  We were getting a lot of climbing for what we thought was going to be a rather flat ride down to Jenner.  Then as we made another left and dropped down into one dark and damp forested inlet, we could see that traffic was stopped both ways.  As we proceeded carefully forward, we saw Bill sitting on the side rail with his bike leaning up against the rail next to him.  He said he took the hairpin at the bottom a bit too fast, hit slick pavement and had to put the bike down.  He thought he wrenched his leg and had some road rash but there was no blood or open cuts/wounds.  There was an electrician that was doing a job at a local campground and he said he could put Bill in the cab of his truck and throw the bike in the back and take him to a medical center two miles up the road.  Bill, Jim and I talked and decided that would be the best course of action.  Bill was going to attempt to walk to the guys truck but as soon as he put weight on his right leg, he went down immediately.  So, we decided to bring the truck to Bill.  I stood out in the middle of the road and stopped traffic; and Jim and the electrician maneuvered and moved Bill into the cab of the truck. 
The truck and Bill disappeared south and Jim and I started pedaling south to find the medical center.  A lady at the scene of the accident said the medical center was about a mile south.  After pedaling for two miles, we still had not found the facility.  Jim talked to a local cutting brush and were told it was still another mile and a half south.  So much for women and their sense of distance.  We found the medical facility, RCMS and said we were looking for cyclist that had been dropped off.  The receptionist said, “Oh, Bill? Yes, we are examining him now.”  We were allowed to go talk to him so we went in and talked with him.  He was in some discomfort, but did not seem to be in major pain, and he kept apologizing.  We told him to stop apologizing and this would be the time for him to be self-centered and we would figure out what needed to be done, but at this time, he was the center of the universe.  After some time, X-rays were taken and it turned out to be worse than I expected.  Bill’s femur was broken about an inch and a half below the ball.  I think that is the correct description. Whatever, his condition clearly exceeded the capability of the Gualala medical center and they were arranging for an ambulance to transport him to the Santa Rosa Memorial Hospital.  Sometime later, the ambulance arrived and Jim and I were requested to assist lifting him to a gurney and then he was rolled into the ambulance and they proceeded to the hospital in Santa Rosa.  Jim and I had contacted Dennie by this time and we waited for her at the Gualala medical center.  After what seemed like a very long time to me, but probably wasn’t, Dennie arrived and we put the bikes on top of the van and proceeded driving to Santa Rosa.  We had reservations that evening on the coast in Fort Ross, but as we were going to be in Santa Rosa, I called to cancel our reservations due to medical emergency.  They agreed to cancel our reservations but said they could not give us a refund.  I was probably not that polite when I told them what I thought about their cancellation policy.  After we thought about it for a while, we said if we cannot get a refund, then why cancel.  So I called them back up and said to not cancel and we hoped we would be there that night.
After what seemed like a very long time, we finally made to Santa Rosa Memorial Hospital.  We were able to visit Bill and found he was going to need surgery.  We left him clothes, charger, phone, iPad and all the other essentials he said he needed and then we headed back to Fort Ross to stay at the accommodations that we could cancel without refund.  The place was actually quite nice except there was NO internet and NO cell phone coverage, so I was not able to let people know what had happened.  Today we returned to Santa Rosa, called Bill, got Jim’s bike repaired (problem with is bottom bracket; do not ask Jim what he thinks about the BB30 bottom bracket), and visited Bill at the hospital.  We also found out that Bill will be getting a hip replacement, probably either Monday or Tuesday.  Jim, Bill and I talked tonight and here is our general plan and agreement.  Bill has relatives nearby in San Rafael.  We are going to spend another day in the Santa Rosa area.  And then Saturday, Jim and I are going to continue our ride south towards San Diego.  This is definitely not how we wanted this ride to go, but all three of the riders are in agreement that Jim and I will continue.  I will continue to keep you posted in this blog.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

"We Survived ... and it was a Pleasure"

I hope my last blog did not leave any of you wondering if it perhaps was going to be my last blog.  We had been told how treacherous and difficult the ride from Leggett to the coast on Highway 1 was going to be.  We were told by people who had driven it, rode it on bikes and we read about it in literature describing our ride.  I don’t know how much has changed since books were written and people drove and rode this section, but it turned out to be just fine, even enjoyable.  Well, to be more accurate, after the big morning climb, the ride down was enjoyable, even fun.  This is going to be a short blog, mostly to let everyone know all is well because I do not have time for a longer blog.  We could not get lodging anywhere between Fort Bragg and Jenner, California.  So tomorrow we ride the 93 miles between Fort Bragg and our destination in Jenner; almost a century ride tomorrow.  So, I am retiring after I post this and a few pictures.  Hope to check in tomorrow.

Monday, October 10, 2011

"Garberville or Doobieville"

Today is another rest day, which means we get to eat something other than oatmeal for breakfast, we get to do laundry and do a little bike maintenance, if needed.  Yesterday we rode to Leggett, California.  Leggett is very, very small and it was at the end of a 71 mile ride with 4200 feet of climbing and we were very, very thirsty.  We went to a market, only to find it was shut down.  A little further down the road, we could see a pizza place with a few guys sitting on the porch, so we rolled on down and investigated.  It turns out the pizza place was closed also and the reason why the guys were sitting out front is one of them had convinced his girlfriend to unlock the place so they could watch the football games on one of the few TV’s with reception in Leggett.  We queried where we could by a beer and they said there was another market about a  mile up the road where we could buy beer.  We asked if they thought the market would mind if we sat out in front of their store and drank our beers.  They replied, “Shouldn’t be a problem, everyone is pretty laid back in Leggett.”  Then the boyfriend of the girlfriend asked, “Are you hungry? If you just want a beer, I bet I could get my girlfriend to pour beers, but it will be two more hours before this place opens and you could buy a pizza because the dough is not ready yet.”  Five minutes later we had joined the guys on the porch drinking a brown ale, an IPA and Bill was drinking his Coke.  We have yet to get Bill to have beer.  He is our committed wino on this trip.
At our last rest day, four days earlier, I had attempted to arrange lodging in Leggett because that was the end of this ride and it would also be a rest day.  Lodging was scarce in Leggett but I finally found a place, Stone Gate Lodge, and I gave them a call.  Mike answered the phone.  “No, he did not have rooms with two queens; no, there was not internet.”  “Yes, there was cell phone reception, a bar and a half, but if we climbed a nearby 300 foot hill, then we could get five bars.”  “No, there was no breakfast provided and no restaurant in Leggett, there was only a pizza place but down the road , six miles, there was a place called the Pig House.” “No, we don’t have laundry facilities and there is not a laundromat in Leggett.”  “Yes, I could figure out how to get five of you in beds for two nights but (and this was the kicker that convinced us to consider lodging in another place), why would you want to stay two nights here or in Leggett?”
So, I went out on the internet and the closest place I could find reasonable lodging that had restaurants and a laundromat was Garberville, California.  Garberville was on our route but about 20 miles before Leggett.  So, we decided to ride to Leggett, as we did, and have Dennie meet us, put the bikes on top of the van and drive back to Garberville.  And that is what we did and that is how we ended up spending a day in Garberville.  Garberville has turned out to be a very interesting town.  It has the potential to be charming, but charming is not how I would describe it.  Yesterday was our fourteenth day of riding and we have probably stayed in fifteen different places and we have cycled through probably hundreds of communities.  In a prior blog I described North Bend as the armpit of the Oregon Coast.  I am not sure what appendage I would use to select to describe Garberville, maybe it is the booger in the left nostril.  If you want to know more about Garberville, you can check out this link Impressions Of a Homeless Meeting. Humboldt county, probably due to some of the local harvest you will not find in any grocery store, has a very high concentration of the young and not so young homeless.  And Garberville is apparently the focal point for most of these homeless pot users (and apparently meth users) in northern California.  The odor of hemp occasionally wafts through the woods, or from an open window in the motel we are staying at; and yes, I know what it smells like because I am a Vietnam veteran, but I did not inhale.  Today we did laundry and I often find the most interesting people in a laundromat.  Our visit to the laundromat today definitely exceeded its quota of very interesting people.  Dreadlocks, tattoos, skinheads, plus Rebecca, the owner of the laundromat. My biking gloves get so dirty when I ride, I like to hand wash them so I don’t contaminate the rest of the load.  I asked Rebecca, “Do you have a sink where I could hand wash them?” “No, they broke it.” “Who broke it? The residents?” “No.” “Uh, the transients?”  I told her I had been in a lot of towns in my ride from the Canadian border but this one definitely has a much different ambience, so to speak, then any of the others.  She then proceeded to tell me a bit of history about the town.  Her grandfather had moved there in 1919 to make fence posts out of redwoods and her family had been there ever since.  But apparently the location of Garberville (Doobieville?) is both remote yet close enough to the Bay area to attract a younger homeless crowd looking for adventure.  She says one of the big issues though, is that local law enforcement is afraid to do any enforcement or move the homeless on and out of town.  Apparently there are enough lawyers in San Francisco ready to sue for the civil rights of the homeless and disadvantaged in Garberville that the local law does very little.  So, the locals find it difficult to tell the transients to clear the sidewalk, or keep the noise down or pee somewhere else.  The link Impressions Of A Homeless Meeting is a description of a town meeting in Garberville that included locals and some of the homeless. 
So tomorrow we have a very big climb out of Leggett to start the day and then it is mostly downhill and down to the coast again; destination is Fort Bragg.  We will be on California Coast Highway 1 and we are not sure what the road is going to look like.   Literature about this part of the route says only very experienced riders should ride this section.  Friends we have stayed with on this trip and others we have met say there is very little shoulder and to make matters worse, they say the drivers are crazy.  So, this could possibly be the sketchiest part of our ride so far.  I will let you know more in my next post.










                                                                                           

Sunday, October 9, 2011

"and we are now in the Redwoods!"

We are now in California and in the redwoods.  The coast is not quite as spectacular as the Oregon coast but it is still quite beautiful.  Night before last we spent the night in Crescent City, just over the Oregon border.  I was telling someone from Oregon about my opinion of North Bend, Oregon (the armpit of the Oregon coast), and she said that Crescent City, California would make North Bend, Oregon look nice.  I think perhaps she really evidenced the strong anti-California bias most of Oregon has towards California.  Crescent City was pleasant in comparison to North Bend. Crescent City is not a Carmel, or La Jolla, but it was pleasant.  It’s only blemish was the steak dinner we had.  I think we “enjoyed” the most durable steak I can remember.  I could not finish it. 
Friday we rode from Crescent City to Arcata, California.  This meant we would ride through Prairie Creek State Park.  Prairie Creek State Park was one of my favorite places to visit and camp when I was young and my family would spend their summer vacations camping their way up the Pacific coast.  One of my most spectacular childhood memories was watching two bull Roosevelt elk dual and fight and clash antlers for about 45 minutes over a small herd of cows.  I was really looking forward to seeing the herds of elk again.
Friday’s ride was 75 miles and 4500 feet of climbing.  A good portion of that climb was right out of Crescent City, before we had a chance to warm up.  It was a heck of a way to warm up.  I also had one of my closest encounters with a semi-truck.  An eighteen wheeler passing you at 55 mph about 24 inches off your left shoulder while you are laboring up a hill with no room to go to the right is downright scary.  That has been my closest encounter of the trip, not fun.  After the climb we descended to the coast and took a quick break on the coast.  The northern California coast is beautiful.  This has been a spectacular ride.
After the coastal break, we rode through Del Norte Coast Redwood State Park.  This is where I learned that one of the primary goals for Jim was to see the redwoods.  And his goal was met, he was loving the redwoods.  The California coastal redwoods are not as big in diameter as the giant sequoias in the California Sierra mountains, and in Sequoia national park.  But the coastal redwoods are taller, and they require a wetter environment to thrive.  They also grow a bit closer together, and  the combination of growing close and growing tall and growing very, very big makes for a very dark ride through the forest when you are in the middle of a grove of giants.
After the Del Norte Coast Redwood State Park and a few more miles south down the road, we arrived at the north end of Prairie Creek State Park.  We were also diverted off of 101 and we were able to ride through the park on a smaller, less trafficked road.  The trees were spectacular, but it was so dark and so damp that we found ourselves really, really cold, but still the ride was quite beautiful.  Huge, tall trees; green ferns; the moist smell of the deep forest; it was very sensory. 
After about ten miles of riding in the dark forest, we emerged into the sunlight and the meadows where the herds of elk were when I was a child visiting Prairie Creek State Park.  Just about every 10 yards there was a sign posted that either said, “Elk Meadow”, or “Elk are wild”, or “Dangerous, Do Not Approach the Elk” and other similar signs.  Everything was there … except the elk.  I was highly, highly disappointed.  Oh well, ride on.

After Prairie Creek we were back on 101 and heading for the coast.  We took a break overlooking Trinidad Bay, very nice and then headed south.  Our route again diverted off on 101 and onto a road that paralleled the beach.  But after a few miles the pavement became really rough, and then became gravel, and then became single track climbing back up the bluff.  We were on the wrong type of bikes to be riding single track.  Once we got to the top of the bluff, we found a break in the fence and got back on 101.  The rest of the ride into Arcata was very nice and uneventful, through coastal farmland.  And Arcata was a very cool college town and we had burgers and beer at a local brew pub.