I took advantage of the metropolis and hotel last night, stocking up at the very groovy new New Leaf Community Market (the co-op was way too far) in Santa Cruz. Tons of vegan goodness and all in my tummy now.
Checking the news and weather sites was less heartening. The major Pacific storm is supposed to bring up to 6 inches of rain and winds up and above 60 mph on the peaks. I am hoping that it will blow over and let me ride again. The rain isn't the biggest problem though. I am approaching the Big Sur portion of highway 1 and it is prone to slides and closures, especially after a bunch of rain at once. It doesn't look so good but I have had 11 nice days and there were only a few left. I am only a 2 hour drive from my sister, so we are holding.
I am trying to keep my road mentality and not get too civilized, but it's tough. The urge to eat every calorie available is tough to break, even after as short a tour as mine. As Phoenix over on sdbikecommuter.com said, you get "in it"-- a bike touring mentality where your head is in a place that makes the road and your routine the only thing there is. Getting it going again might be hard, I don't know.
I've been thinking a lot about being "in it" and hopefully it hasn't all leaked out while I dwell in comfort. The first thing that I wanted to put down were my morning feelings. That is the hardest time of day for me, and I suspect, for most bike tourers. First is the chore of getting your gear organized and re-packed and getting underway. I try to get as much of that done at night was possible, but you tend to be pretty blown and the time for bed just comes and you don't argue. By far the hardest part is the beginning miles, especially if their is any climbing. Unless your everyday life is pretty intense, I doubt most of us are used to pedalling a heavy loaded bike day-after-day with no rest days. The aches come, for me, mostly in the knees. I"m sure it is just use soreness, but it still makes mornings a toil.
So as you pedal with soreness in the morning, doubts hit. All thoughts of stopping that I've had have come during this period. I just think of that time, later in the day, when everything starts to feel better again, and the mileage countdown gets close to camp and a meal. That is what happens when you are "in it." At those times, and when I'm snug in my bag at night, I want to keep doing this as long as I can.
Another element is the fear of reaching the goal and not knowing what to do. Some people, like Scott over at Powercycle.net, have allayed this by going of on a life's journey. My sister asked if this would be a bummer for me if I had to pull the plug now and come home. I don't know, this is my first little tour. I do know, however, that I am not at all averse to planning the next one as a longer pull, especially with the minor knowledge that I've acquired so far.
I don't want to get too philosophical about a potential journey's end right now, though, because I don't want to think that way unless it is over for sure. Right now, it is awfully shitty up here-- the power has been off most of the morning, but I have the resources to wait things out if that is what I decide.
The other thing is not taking all this too seriously. I went to the laundromat this morning and Santa Cruz's permanent "camping" population was there in numbers. Those guys are living this type of life and they aren't riding the storm out in a hotel. This is just a game for me. When I stop, I can walk into a store and buy what I want. If I want to quit, I can call my sister a few minutes south, and she'll come get me. So while it has been quite an experience during my brief time out, it really is just a self-created game, no matter what reality my mind creates. With that in mind, whatever happens, I am happy with the fun I've had. If I find myself getting too serious about it, hopefully I will remember that and the guys in the laundromat.
All that said, I'm going to head out and find a really big burrito and hope for a big break in the weather.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Gene and I rolled up and got out of camp fairly early. My morning is more complicated than his as I have to roll up a full tent, sleeping bag, tent footprint, and sleeping pad and pack them carefully in my panniers. He just rolls up his tube shelter and puts a couple things in trash bags. Because we knew that there were no services for the first 30 miles, against routine, we had breakfast before miles in HMB-- dry toast, the same crappy Smucker's tubs, and potatoes again. Gene was surprised that I could ride after such a "small" breakfast, but for me, this is huge compared to my usual bowl of grains in the a.m. I really would rather not feel full while I ride. I actually don't like the feeling at any time anymore which probably has a lot to do with why I don't drink beer anymore. Eating a big breakfast after 20 uphill miles is different, though. It seems to burn as you eat it and isn't a problem.
We've known all along that a major Pacific storm is on the way and is supposed to hit tonight (Monday) so the goal is to make it to Santa Cruz and stage in a hotel room. The elevation profile for this part of the coast is fairly mellow and the miles are in the 40s or 50s, so it shouldn't be too gnarly. What we didn't expect was the massive headwinds. And massive sidewinds. It felt like uphill riding even during minor descents. At 20 to 25 miles per hour, I felt like I was being pushed back up the hill and with some effort, I could have track standed right on the slope facing down. As we got somewhat close to Santa Cruz, the coastal riding became hillier, as headlands necessitated climbing. When they turned to sidewinds, however, the shit got scary. At some point, the winds rose above 20-25 and we were being pelted with sand and blown off the shoulder and into the road. At some points, we had to walk. On the beach, the swell was clearly rising as this storm was the remnants of a monsoon in Japan. About 15 miles north of Santa Cruz and the first available lodging, the winds rose some more and the sky darkened, creating a real Wizard of Oz situation. Gene and I discussed what we could do, but in no way, did it appear that we could make town before the real storm hit.
I half-heartedly tried to thumb down a few trucks without success. Gene was stuck on principle and didn't want a ride no matter what. It didn't look like anyone would stop. The closer you are to civilization, the less helpful the populalace (oh FSM how I hate them) are. We were pedalling for it. I stopped and waited while Gene secured all of his stuff inside his panniers and in plastic bags. We started riding again.
The little town of Davenport, the first services on the route was just ahead. We had been planning on a stop there for sustenance and I thought we might find shelter or a ride there. Just outside, I stopped to make sure that my panniers were secured against rain. My bike fell over (I don't use a kickstand) and when I got it upright, Gene was well ahead, pushing along. Shortly thereafter, I got to Davenport, a one corner town with a store and some kind of tour bus stop. I looked ahead and Gene was still pushing. I briefly stopped at the store to explore possibilities but it was less than a minute and I didn't buy anything. When I looked ahead, dude was gone. If you've read the road rage incident earlier in this account, you know that this is the second time. A bunch of people have asked me about him bailing when a guy threatened to attack me (partially based on Gene's actions as well) and I declined to comment, giving him the benefit of the doubt. So this is twice. I'm still not going to say anything about it because I don't really want to shift to the negative right now but seriously--twice.
Seeing that getting a ride was unlikely, I pushed it. It turned out that whatever disturbance that we had hit north of Santa Cruz was something before the main force hit and there was a relative calm before the storm. Still, the next 10 miles into town were extremely tough, probably among the hardest of the trip. It was still calm when I arrived in town and found a hotel, where I was very relieved and checked in to wait out the storm.
I only took two pictures, both of Pigeon Point Lighthouse.
Here is the somewhat incomplete (user error again) track:
day11
We've known all along that a major Pacific storm is on the way and is supposed to hit tonight (Monday) so the goal is to make it to Santa Cruz and stage in a hotel room. The elevation profile for this part of the coast is fairly mellow and the miles are in the 40s or 50s, so it shouldn't be too gnarly. What we didn't expect was the massive headwinds. And massive sidewinds. It felt like uphill riding even during minor descents. At 20 to 25 miles per hour, I felt like I was being pushed back up the hill and with some effort, I could have track standed right on the slope facing down. As we got somewhat close to Santa Cruz, the coastal riding became hillier, as headlands necessitated climbing. When they turned to sidewinds, however, the shit got scary. At some point, the winds rose above 20-25 and we were being pelted with sand and blown off the shoulder and into the road. At some points, we had to walk. On the beach, the swell was clearly rising as this storm was the remnants of a monsoon in Japan. About 15 miles north of Santa Cruz and the first available lodging, the winds rose some more and the sky darkened, creating a real Wizard of Oz situation. Gene and I discussed what we could do, but in no way, did it appear that we could make town before the real storm hit.
I half-heartedly tried to thumb down a few trucks without success. Gene was stuck on principle and didn't want a ride no matter what. It didn't look like anyone would stop. The closer you are to civilization, the less helpful the populalace (oh FSM how I hate them) are. We were pedalling for it. I stopped and waited while Gene secured all of his stuff inside his panniers and in plastic bags. We started riding again.
The little town of Davenport, the first services on the route was just ahead. We had been planning on a stop there for sustenance and I thought we might find shelter or a ride there. Just outside, I stopped to make sure that my panniers were secured against rain. My bike fell over (I don't use a kickstand) and when I got it upright, Gene was well ahead, pushing along. Shortly thereafter, I got to Davenport, a one corner town with a store and some kind of tour bus stop. I looked ahead and Gene was still pushing. I briefly stopped at the store to explore possibilities but it was less than a minute and I didn't buy anything. When I looked ahead, dude was gone. If you've read the road rage incident earlier in this account, you know that this is the second time. A bunch of people have asked me about him bailing when a guy threatened to attack me (partially based on Gene's actions as well) and I declined to comment, giving him the benefit of the doubt. So this is twice. I'm still not going to say anything about it because I don't really want to shift to the negative right now but seriously--twice.
Seeing that getting a ride was unlikely, I pushed it. It turned out that whatever disturbance that we had hit north of Santa Cruz was something before the main force hit and there was a relative calm before the storm. Still, the next 10 miles into town were extremely tough, probably among the hardest of the trip. It was still calm when I arrived in town and found a hotel, where I was very relieved and checked in to wait out the storm.
I only took two pictures, both of Pigeon Point Lighthouse.
Here is the somewhat incomplete (user error again) track:
day11
I'm writing this during a power outage in a hotel in Santa Cruz. Things have changed but I will try to keep this as in the moment that it refers to as possible.
From what I remember (as everyone else who has done this thing has already noted, things blur very rapidly,) this was a pretty routine morning. I put my scattered gear back together in my bombed out room and waited for Gene to meet me at the appointed 7:30. As I later realized, Gene really needs me for the route through the city. We take off through Marin, mostly along well appointed bike paths and routes. Bikes are everywhere. An interesting thing about this part of the Bay Area is that even the spandexed roadies are mostly on cool steel bikes. Not sure why, but part of it is probably that so many of the craftsmen who make them are here, the birthplace of the mountain bike. Also, even though the roads are very bike-friendly, they can be bumpy, so maybe they just train on more durable steel. Numerous organized rides pass us, one with three support vehicles in tow. Wow.
Going through civilization is still somewhat of a sensory overload. Even after my admittedly short time along the deserted coast, it is hard to resist the impulsive grab that the availability of calories and caffeine provides. However, both of us have picked up the common habit of not stopping for any refreshment or nourishment until at least a decent chunk of miles has passed. My morning miles have all been caffeine free but fueled by either a couple packets of oats or whatever junk carbs I had left over from the previous day or both. We pass all the cool cafes and coffee shops without stopping and end up in Sausalito and the run up to the Golden Gate Bridge.
There are some amazing views.
After a quick pee in the bike-filled parking lot, we set off across the bikeway. Here is Gene.
Note the circa twenty years ago Bell helmet, which probably has no protective value left. He is travelling light on an insufficient hybrid type bike and he knows it. He's carrying a little tube shelter, a sleeping pad, and a really skimpy sleeping bad. He had a lot of more appropriate stuff, but it somehow wasn't in the right place when he started his trip up to the Canadian border to come down. As such, isn't prepared to camp multiple nights in a row the way the rest of the south bound bikers are. It would have been fine in the summer, but not now, when camping nights are routinely below 40 fahrenheit.
Here is me. I'm ready for everything except the shock of seeing my orange and brown face in the mirror whenever I finally stop for breakfast every morning. Lindsay Lohan and the rest of you fake bakers, eat your hearts out. I went orange naturally.
The ride across the bridge was routine and filled with bikes, even on this chilly morning. I didn't get a major sensation of height or danger. It was just a roll across a generous bike path. No major starting hill-- if you've been across, you probably remember that it is pretty flat. Nothing like the illegal climb up the Coronado Bridge for the frontrunners on SD Critical Mass.
After the bridgeway, the guidebook route took us up 28th street through a really nice residential neighborhood, and then through some Chinese neighborhoods to the way south out of the city. Fairly hill free and pleasant, although cold and windy. We zipped past the President's Cup golf south of the city and finally stopped for breakfast across the county line in Daly City. It was a struggle to find breakfast, and honestly, I would have been better served getting some kind of killer vegan breakfast in SF but that would have required a lot of research or assistance from the useless Chris Mosher, and I availed myself of neither. The first stop for food was in a huge Asian-oriented center in Daly City which was anchored by a Ranch 99! On a longer tour, that would have been a major food stop for me, but Gene wasn't into it, and I had no real need to load up. We eventually found a local diner, where I had my usual disappointing vegan roadside breakfast of dry toast and jelly and coffee.
We took an off-highway route through the west coast Levittown-looking Daly City and got back on the highway for the somewhat cramped climb up the Devil's Slide which had no shoulder due to the ongoing tunnel construction. A group of about 12 fixed-gear riders blew past us going uphill and I never saw them again. More power to them and best wishes for their knees when they are my age. I missed a great opportunity to add to my collection of roadkill photos when I didn't stop to shoot a discarded porno DVD. It just wasn't safe to stop and start again without a shoulder. I won't print the title here to avoid unnecessary google hits.
I don't really remember much of the rest of the ride down to Half Moon Bay except that it was fairly pleasant. Riding with someone else is a completely different experience. Time passes differently and not being alone with your thoughts creates a different cadence and pace. The point of this segment is mostly getting through the Bay Area, which luckily for us was on a Sunday, and staging ourselves at Half Moon Bay for the next day, which is desolate and without services. Much more on that later.
The city of Half Moon Bay is a relative metropolis for a city next to a hiker biker stop. Every kind of food and service is available, which again, is overwhelming. We grabbed what we needed and checked in to the camp ground without intending to come back out, even though it was less than a mile back to civilization. At these stops, I usually grab a tub of salsa for cooking, some pretzelly carbs, some cookies, and some fruit. I usually leave some of it in the hiker/biker bear box as road kharma for anyone following and have been gifted by some of the same from others.
My man B asked for some shots of camp life, so here they are. The HB site at HMB was a bit ghetto, with only one firepit for all to share and no water spigot.
The location is nice, though, and for the just recently raised price of $7, it is tough to complain. Also, by their nature, the HB sites are communal, which, for me, adds a nice vibe, as people travelling this way are rarely dicks. More on that later, also. One thing that was different and disconcerting about HMB for me was the day use traffic. We set up camp around 4 or 5 and people from the day use areas and bike paths in the park were constantly winding through our camp and staring as if we were bears or some other attraction while they walked their Shitzus.
This is my tent at HMB. I usually only use one vestibule and between that and the interior of my two person tent, I can secure all my stuff that isn't on the bike. If it is raining, I can quickly take everything off the bike and shelter it.
Lynne and Five Star, a couple of cool women from SF were bike camping for the weekend, with their homemade (I think) plastic container panniers. While Gene made a bunch of phone calls back to the world, I talked to them for about a long time. They shared the picnic table (essential to bike campers) next to the firepit and said they'd be stoked if I made a fire. Gene seems less social with others in the HB zones, probably because of the age gap.
Inspired by Phoenix on sdbikecommuter.com, I strapped a load of wood on the LHT and brought it back to camp.
Here is my camp cooking setup. The little MSR backpacking stove, which I've had for a while, is awesome. Here, I am making rice with some dehydrated veggie chili mix and salsa. Making rice on a camping stove is pretty sketchy and hard to get soft enough but I keep doing it anyway. Most things taste great at the end of the day and with enough Sriracha sauce.
I got a fire going eventually and Gene and I hung out a while and then the women returned from town and hung out. I left them the fire and crashed. During the night, we were again raided by camp raccoons, and again, I lost some dried fruit which was in a pannier pocket and not in the bear (raccoon) box. Whatever, they were there first anyway.
Here's the track, which as usual, is missing miles because of user error:
day10
From what I remember (as everyone else who has done this thing has already noted, things blur very rapidly,) this was a pretty routine morning. I put my scattered gear back together in my bombed out room and waited for Gene to meet me at the appointed 7:30. As I later realized, Gene really needs me for the route through the city. We take off through Marin, mostly along well appointed bike paths and routes. Bikes are everywhere. An interesting thing about this part of the Bay Area is that even the spandexed roadies are mostly on cool steel bikes. Not sure why, but part of it is probably that so many of the craftsmen who make them are here, the birthplace of the mountain bike. Also, even though the roads are very bike-friendly, they can be bumpy, so maybe they just train on more durable steel. Numerous organized rides pass us, one with three support vehicles in tow. Wow.
Going through civilization is still somewhat of a sensory overload. Even after my admittedly short time along the deserted coast, it is hard to resist the impulsive grab that the availability of calories and caffeine provides. However, both of us have picked up the common habit of not stopping for any refreshment or nourishment until at least a decent chunk of miles has passed. My morning miles have all been caffeine free but fueled by either a couple packets of oats or whatever junk carbs I had left over from the previous day or both. We pass all the cool cafes and coffee shops without stopping and end up in Sausalito and the run up to the Golden Gate Bridge.
There are some amazing views.
After a quick pee in the bike-filled parking lot, we set off across the bikeway. Here is Gene.
Note the circa twenty years ago Bell helmet, which probably has no protective value left. He is travelling light on an insufficient hybrid type bike and he knows it. He's carrying a little tube shelter, a sleeping pad, and a really skimpy sleeping bad. He had a lot of more appropriate stuff, but it somehow wasn't in the right place when he started his trip up to the Canadian border to come down. As such, isn't prepared to camp multiple nights in a row the way the rest of the south bound bikers are. It would have been fine in the summer, but not now, when camping nights are routinely below 40 fahrenheit.
Here is me. I'm ready for everything except the shock of seeing my orange and brown face in the mirror whenever I finally stop for breakfast every morning. Lindsay Lohan and the rest of you fake bakers, eat your hearts out. I went orange naturally.
The ride across the bridge was routine and filled with bikes, even on this chilly morning. I didn't get a major sensation of height or danger. It was just a roll across a generous bike path. No major starting hill-- if you've been across, you probably remember that it is pretty flat. Nothing like the illegal climb up the Coronado Bridge for the frontrunners on SD Critical Mass.
After the bridgeway, the guidebook route took us up 28th street through a really nice residential neighborhood, and then through some Chinese neighborhoods to the way south out of the city. Fairly hill free and pleasant, although cold and windy. We zipped past the President's Cup golf south of the city and finally stopped for breakfast across the county line in Daly City. It was a struggle to find breakfast, and honestly, I would have been better served getting some kind of killer vegan breakfast in SF but that would have required a lot of research or assistance from the useless Chris Mosher, and I availed myself of neither. The first stop for food was in a huge Asian-oriented center in Daly City which was anchored by a Ranch 99! On a longer tour, that would have been a major food stop for me, but Gene wasn't into it, and I had no real need to load up. We eventually found a local diner, where I had my usual disappointing vegan roadside breakfast of dry toast and jelly and coffee.
We took an off-highway route through the west coast Levittown-looking Daly City and got back on the highway for the somewhat cramped climb up the Devil's Slide which had no shoulder due to the ongoing tunnel construction. A group of about 12 fixed-gear riders blew past us going uphill and I never saw them again. More power to them and best wishes for their knees when they are my age. I missed a great opportunity to add to my collection of roadkill photos when I didn't stop to shoot a discarded porno DVD. It just wasn't safe to stop and start again without a shoulder. I won't print the title here to avoid unnecessary google hits.
I don't really remember much of the rest of the ride down to Half Moon Bay except that it was fairly pleasant. Riding with someone else is a completely different experience. Time passes differently and not being alone with your thoughts creates a different cadence and pace. The point of this segment is mostly getting through the Bay Area, which luckily for us was on a Sunday, and staging ourselves at Half Moon Bay for the next day, which is desolate and without services. Much more on that later.
The city of Half Moon Bay is a relative metropolis for a city next to a hiker biker stop. Every kind of food and service is available, which again, is overwhelming. We grabbed what we needed and checked in to the camp ground without intending to come back out, even though it was less than a mile back to civilization. At these stops, I usually grab a tub of salsa for cooking, some pretzelly carbs, some cookies, and some fruit. I usually leave some of it in the hiker/biker bear box as road kharma for anyone following and have been gifted by some of the same from others.
My man B asked for some shots of camp life, so here they are. The HB site at HMB was a bit ghetto, with only one firepit for all to share and no water spigot.
The location is nice, though, and for the just recently raised price of $7, it is tough to complain. Also, by their nature, the HB sites are communal, which, for me, adds a nice vibe, as people travelling this way are rarely dicks. More on that later, also. One thing that was different and disconcerting about HMB for me was the day use traffic. We set up camp around 4 or 5 and people from the day use areas and bike paths in the park were constantly winding through our camp and staring as if we were bears or some other attraction while they walked their Shitzus.
This is my tent at HMB. I usually only use one vestibule and between that and the interior of my two person tent, I can secure all my stuff that isn't on the bike. If it is raining, I can quickly take everything off the bike and shelter it.
Lynne and Five Star, a couple of cool women from SF were bike camping for the weekend, with their homemade (I think) plastic container panniers. While Gene made a bunch of phone calls back to the world, I talked to them for about a long time. They shared the picnic table (essential to bike campers) next to the firepit and said they'd be stoked if I made a fire. Gene seems less social with others in the HB zones, probably because of the age gap.
Inspired by Phoenix on sdbikecommuter.com, I strapped a load of wood on the LHT and brought it back to camp.
Here is my camp cooking setup. The little MSR backpacking stove, which I've had for a while, is awesome. Here, I am making rice with some dehydrated veggie chili mix and salsa. Making rice on a camping stove is pretty sketchy and hard to get soft enough but I keep doing it anyway. Most things taste great at the end of the day and with enough Sriracha sauce.
I got a fire going eventually and Gene and I hung out a while and then the women returned from town and hung out. I left them the fire and crashed. During the night, we were again raided by camp raccoons, and again, I lost some dried fruit which was in a pannier pocket and not in the bear (raccoon) box. Whatever, they were there first anyway.
Here's the track, which as usual, is missing miles because of user error:
day10
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Brutally Day 8 - Manchester to Bodega Dunes Campground
I had a great dinner in camp last night, inspired by the arroz con gandules that my friend Lizz's mom and grandmother make. A previous resident of the hiker/biker site had left some cans of tiny baby peas. I threw those in with some rice and salsa and I cooked some salsa and Mexican squash in another pot. Combined with sriracha, the best road dinner so far.
I know that picture has already been posted. Lighten up, it has different text this time.
The morning started extra early courtesy of the notorious NoCal raccoons. Manchester doesn't have bear boxes (that's where you put your food so bears don't eat it) and I was a little careless with my stuff. I heard various weird noises during the night but didn't pay much attention. Finally, it was weird enough to check out and I shined my headlamp on the picnic table about 6 feet from my tent. Two busy raccoons stared right back into the light without moving. I had to put on my shoes and get out of my tent to run them off. All I could see that they got were a bag of peanuts and a bag of pretzels. No big deal. Not realizing how intrepid they were, I moved some stuff around and went back to bag. Eventually, I heard them again. I opened my tent and yelled and they just stared at me. When I got out to run them off, one of them grabbed my bike shoe, just like Penny had and started to run off with it. Luckily he dropped it without chewing. It turn out they had also crawled into one pannier pocket and got at some dried fruit. Apparently, the papaya was too spicy for them too, as they discarded it. Gene, the other biker in camp last night, said they knocked down his bike.
These guys were in the parking lot of a little store when I rolled up. They were still there after I had my drink and snack and rolled out. They were talking about their epic day trip and making me feel superior. I think the guy in the full Repsol Honda kit is a professional motorcyclist. His mouth and credit card got a great workout:
So this day was long and brutal on the rolling coast. At around 50 miles, there were some giant climbs up the 1 that my guidebook basically just glossed over. They were on long switch backs at a point where you are already thinking about the end of the day. Also, they were followed by really long descents over huge cliffs with no guard rails. Pretty sketchy. There was also a shit load of traffic coming in the other direction as people bailed out of San Francisco for the weekend. Just glad it wasn't the other way around. I don't remember too much else, so here is the scenery:
I finally made the campground at Bodega Dunes at the very second the sun went down. I really don't want to ride in any kind of dark on the 1 without shoulders. If I had known about the climbing, my decisions would have been different. When I got to the hiker/biker site, it was full of southbound tourers-- Gene, the guy I met at Manchester was there ahead of me, an old guy who was touring around during his retirement, and a bunch of young people who were hanging out during a break from their trecks. Also a bunch of yellowjackets who stung other people but not me.
Here's the track:
day8
I know that picture has already been posted. Lighten up, it has different text this time.
The morning started extra early courtesy of the notorious NoCal raccoons. Manchester doesn't have bear boxes (that's where you put your food so bears don't eat it) and I was a little careless with my stuff. I heard various weird noises during the night but didn't pay much attention. Finally, it was weird enough to check out and I shined my headlamp on the picnic table about 6 feet from my tent. Two busy raccoons stared right back into the light without moving. I had to put on my shoes and get out of my tent to run them off. All I could see that they got were a bag of peanuts and a bag of pretzels. No big deal. Not realizing how intrepid they were, I moved some stuff around and went back to bag. Eventually, I heard them again. I opened my tent and yelled and they just stared at me. When I got out to run them off, one of them grabbed my bike shoe, just like Penny had and started to run off with it. Luckily he dropped it without chewing. It turn out they had also crawled into one pannier pocket and got at some dried fruit. Apparently, the papaya was too spicy for them too, as they discarded it. Gene, the other biker in camp last night, said they knocked down his bike.
These guys were in the parking lot of a little store when I rolled up. They were still there after I had my drink and snack and rolled out. They were talking about their epic day trip and making me feel superior. I think the guy in the full Repsol Honda kit is a professional motorcyclist. His mouth and credit card got a great workout:
So this day was long and brutal on the rolling coast. At around 50 miles, there were some giant climbs up the 1 that my guidebook basically just glossed over. They were on long switch backs at a point where you are already thinking about the end of the day. Also, they were followed by really long descents over huge cliffs with no guard rails. Pretty sketchy. There was also a shit load of traffic coming in the other direction as people bailed out of San Francisco for the weekend. Just glad it wasn't the other way around. I don't remember too much else, so here is the scenery:
I finally made the campground at Bodega Dunes at the very second the sun went down. I really don't want to ride in any kind of dark on the 1 without shoulders. If I had known about the climbing, my decisions would have been different. When I got to the hiker/biker site, it was full of southbound tourers-- Gene, the guy I met at Manchester was there ahead of me, an old guy who was touring around during his retirement, and a bunch of young people who were hanging out during a break from their trecks. Also a bunch of yellowjackets who stung other people but not me.
Here's the track:
day8
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Long day in the saddle, more than 8 hours-- I'm pretty much out of it. Here's what I remember. I got started early. It was very cold. It turned out that I was only a half mile from my intended camp ground when I stopped yesterday, but I am still okay with the decision. After a few more miles on 199, I was on the 101, where I will stay for most of the duration. Riding on the freeway is no big deal at this point. The shoulder is very wide.
I'm not used to anything for breakfast except a bowl of some hot whole grains of my own making but after an hour in the cold, I really want to stop and get some food and hot coffee, which is also something I'm not used to. I do it again, and not knowing that there are cooler spots in the southern part of Crescent City, I stop in a pretty standard diner in a small town, where, I've learned already, my vegan options are some kind of fried potatoes and dry toast. Still, the hot coffee is good and my body will eliminate the other crap quickly enough. Hopefully, the reputation of Northern California for being a haven for old hippies will hold up and I'll be able to find better stuff the next few days.
I think this is Crescent City:
and these sea stacks may have been there too (when I set up geotagging, I'll know for sure)
I forget, I saw a lot of them today. Sometimes when you pass them, you can hear seals making noise on them, which isn't a big deal for a San Diegan, unless it is an Elephant Seal, I'd like to see one of them. You can't open a paper in San Diego without reading some mean old seal hater from La Jolla complaining about Harbor Seal poop, which I'm sure is tiny compared to Elephant Seal poop.
This is what they look like far away:
Here is another picture of a sign:
This is right before the Crescent City hills, which are a big deal to south bound touring cyclists. There are 3 of them but the first one is the worst because it is trying to break your spirit and you know that there are 2 more. They last 8 miles but the first one is more than half of that. Part of the reason they suck is the narrow shoulder. Cars are pretty close. I remember having a lot more to say about them, mostly something about comparing it to Faust F. Rossi's second semester Civ Pro exam (people were crying and the fact pattern was 24 pages or something) but I can't remember what it was. Anyway, that test was 4 hours long and the hills were over in way less time than that. Also, the second two aren't so bad. Also, there are a lot more fucking hills on this stretch that nobody names, which is why I can't remember. Maybe what I was going to say is that everyone else has to do it too and you know it's going to be over eventually. Maybe not.
This is the sign at the summit. I was kind of happy to see it. Also, I keep taking pictures of signs. It's an easy blogging device. Hate the signs, not the sign(picture take)er:
There were lots of great views and Redwoods on the way up but you can't look at them because the traffic and the climbing are kind of hectic. The hills are that big bump around 18 miles on the elevation chart below if you care.
Today was a mixture of totally dark Redwood forests and unbelievably beautiful sea scapes. This part of the northern coast has a bunch of lagoon things where some kind of barrier has formed and separated an inland body of water from the bays or ocean. There were signs explaining it but I forgot what they said. Also the Klamath River was really cool. Here are some more pictures:
That's obviously not a bay or a lagoon but some Redwoods and ferns. I think the ferns are just as impressive as the trees. Totally huge and prehistoric.
This is an elk:
I saw him at Elk Prairie camp ground.
Here is another sign:
It remind me of the time that Bill Maher, in response to a magazine exclusive about Clay Aiken, that said on the cover, "I'm Gay!," showed his own magazine cover with a picture of a bear and a caption that said, "I Shit in the Woods!" I probably didn't say or punctuate that correctly but I am really tired. This coast is beautiful but ridiculously rolling. I climbed 10,000 feet today but never got very high above sea level.
Also, if you're wondering how I am on wifi yet again (you probably aren't) it is because I didn't understand the directions to Patrick Point State Park so I'm at another commercial camp ground.
Here's- another picture of today and the track:
day3
I'm not used to anything for breakfast except a bowl of some hot whole grains of my own making but after an hour in the cold, I really want to stop and get some food and hot coffee, which is also something I'm not used to. I do it again, and not knowing that there are cooler spots in the southern part of Crescent City, I stop in a pretty standard diner in a small town, where, I've learned already, my vegan options are some kind of fried potatoes and dry toast. Still, the hot coffee is good and my body will eliminate the other crap quickly enough. Hopefully, the reputation of Northern California for being a haven for old hippies will hold up and I'll be able to find better stuff the next few days.
I think this is Crescent City:
and these sea stacks may have been there too (when I set up geotagging, I'll know for sure)
I forget, I saw a lot of them today. Sometimes when you pass them, you can hear seals making noise on them, which isn't a big deal for a San Diegan, unless it is an Elephant Seal, I'd like to see one of them. You can't open a paper in San Diego without reading some mean old seal hater from La Jolla complaining about Harbor Seal poop, which I'm sure is tiny compared to Elephant Seal poop.
This is what they look like far away:
Here is another picture of a sign:
This is right before the Crescent City hills, which are a big deal to south bound touring cyclists. There are 3 of them but the first one is the worst because it is trying to break your spirit and you know that there are 2 more. They last 8 miles but the first one is more than half of that. Part of the reason they suck is the narrow shoulder. Cars are pretty close. I remember having a lot more to say about them, mostly something about comparing it to Faust F. Rossi's second semester Civ Pro exam (people were crying and the fact pattern was 24 pages or something) but I can't remember what it was. Anyway, that test was 4 hours long and the hills were over in way less time than that. Also, the second two aren't so bad. Also, there are a lot more fucking hills on this stretch that nobody names, which is why I can't remember. Maybe what I was going to say is that everyone else has to do it too and you know it's going to be over eventually. Maybe not.
This is the sign at the summit. I was kind of happy to see it. Also, I keep taking pictures of signs. It's an easy blogging device. Hate the signs, not the sign(picture take)er:
There were lots of great views and Redwoods on the way up but you can't look at them because the traffic and the climbing are kind of hectic. The hills are that big bump around 18 miles on the elevation chart below if you care.
Today was a mixture of totally dark Redwood forests and unbelievably beautiful sea scapes. This part of the northern coast has a bunch of lagoon things where some kind of barrier has formed and separated an inland body of water from the bays or ocean. There were signs explaining it but I forgot what they said. Also the Klamath River was really cool. Here are some more pictures:
That's obviously not a bay or a lagoon but some Redwoods and ferns. I think the ferns are just as impressive as the trees. Totally huge and prehistoric.
This is an elk:
I saw him at Elk Prairie camp ground.
Here is another sign:
It remind me of the time that Bill Maher, in response to a magazine exclusive about Clay Aiken, that said on the cover, "I'm Gay!," showed his own magazine cover with a picture of a bear and a caption that said, "I Shit in the Woods!" I probably didn't say or punctuate that correctly but I am really tired. This coast is beautiful but ridiculously rolling. I climbed 10,000 feet today but never got very high above sea level.
Also, if you're wondering how I am on wifi yet again (you probably aren't) it is because I didn't understand the directions to Patrick Point State Park so I'm at another commercial camp ground.
Here's- another picture of today and the track:
day3
Friday, October 2, 2009
With all the preamble finally out of the way, I left Ashland this morning at 7 and wow was it fucking cold. I had an idea when my train got to Klamath Falls that I would have to amend the clothing I packed. At a really cool bikeshop in Ashland (in a house) and an outdoor store (a crunchier city you have never encountered) I grabbed some tights and ear warmers and was staring at some full-fingered gloves when I got sick of buying stuff and blew that off. Big fucking mistake. The first two hours were like frostbite-- a lot of pain. Almost immediately, I considered turning around and waiting for a shop to open, but I decided to just push on and wait for the sun. That is one of the joys of touring solo-- the decisions only impact you. I wouldn't be comfortable asking someone else to do that if they had forgotten equipment and I'd feel guilty as hell if I had to delay everything while I got my shit together.
Anyway, my first few days are not in the Touring the Pacific Coast book or on the standard Adventure Cycling Association (hereinafter "ACA") maps. It is a more inland route that I found on the website of a commercial cycle touring operation but it didn't have maps so I am kind of winging it. Being off the beaten path today was great. Once I left Ashland (where morning bike commuters were flying past me and the loaded beast) I never saw another bike-- just beautiful scenery.
My first stop was "historic Jacksonville," which is apparently how it is always referred to. Really cool old mini-town where I stopped for an awesome tofu scramble at an unexpected Jewish deli called MacLevins. The owner was really cool, unprompted (I just asked for no cheese) she made sure my meal was vegan, brought me the paper and kept bringing hot coffee for my frozen hands. After, I told her that I was sure that this would be the best breakfast of my trip, and I'm pretty sure it will be.
I've noticed that most of the tour journals I've read talk a lot about meals and it looks like mine won't be much different. When you are burning 6-8,000 cals a day, it becomes a focus.
With my hands thawed, I continued through more small towns. Once the sun came out, things weren't so bad, although I was never able to take off my tights or fleece. As the track shows, there wasn't much climbing, mostly descents and flats, although I was into a headwind all day. Good thing, the first few climbs on a fully loaded touring bike are a shock. Things don't react the way you are used to and for me at least, standing up made things a lot less stable. More on that tomorrow, which promises bigger climbs.
The scenery was gorgeous. Most of the day was along rivers and creeks in the bottom of a valley, which explains the flatness. It mostly looked like this:
I highly recommend this route for anyone looking to do a little touring off the beaten path. There wasn't always a shoulder, and when there was, it wasn't always that wide, but not too many scary truck encounters and people up here seem to respect bikes. Ashland was insanely bike friendly. I was about to write about how bikey San Luis Obispo was (very) but Ashland one-upped it. Oregon has a law that requires cars stop for pedestrians waiting for a cross walk and drivers extend that to bikes as well.
Ashland in general was surreal. I was there not only because it was a great place to start this tour, but because my sister and I wanted to pay respects to our parents there. They loved coming up here for the Shakespeare festival that the town is known for. Even if you don't see a play, the place is unbelievably beautiful and people are ridiculously pleasant. It reminded me a lot of Ithaca, where I was ostensibly educated in the law (it is home to Southern Oregon University,) except the students looked happy and weren't noticeably from Long Island.
Just below the Elizabethan stage for the festival, I found a storybook looking public park with a pond and ducks. I had it to myself. On a green next to it, a guy was playing cello for a couple friends. I felt like I was in the Truman Show or something, it couldn't be real.
I scattered my mom and dad's ashes there. It was pretty emotional but I don't write about stuff like this. I'd rather be distant and smart ass.
So back to the trip. Coming up on Amtrak was okay. It is a long time to be sitting on the train, but a lot of it was overnight, so I slept. I also read "Out Stealing Horses" by Per Petterson-- kind of a Scandinavian Cormac McCarthy-- they both write books about boys living on a border with horses in the title. I liked it.
Taking a shuttle from Klamath Falls to Medford was definitely a good decision-- the road was beautiful-- it went by Crater Lake and Lake of the Woods but there were many elevation changes and it didn't look bike safe. I couldn't use the front rack on the bus because I couldn't clamp the front wheel due to my front rack, but the bus wasn't crowded, so I brought it onboard. The bus even had wifi and I was able to get the ticket from Amtrak.
I'll keep posting updates when I can. I'm pretty tired and a fire and some weird sweet potato noodles await. This campground is pretty cool, wifi and the store had some fleecy gloves for $2.50 that I can use until I hit a bike store. It may get close to freezing tonight, but for now, I'm happy.
[caption id="attachment_717" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Home sweet home, Wonder KOA"]
[/caption]
day1
Anyway, my first few days are not in the Touring the Pacific Coast book or on the standard Adventure Cycling Association (hereinafter "ACA") maps. It is a more inland route that I found on the website of a commercial cycle touring operation but it didn't have maps so I am kind of winging it. Being off the beaten path today was great. Once I left Ashland (where morning bike commuters were flying past me and the loaded beast) I never saw another bike-- just beautiful scenery.
My first stop was "historic Jacksonville," which is apparently how it is always referred to. Really cool old mini-town where I stopped for an awesome tofu scramble at an unexpected Jewish deli called MacLevins. The owner was really cool, unprompted (I just asked for no cheese) she made sure my meal was vegan, brought me the paper and kept bringing hot coffee for my frozen hands. After, I told her that I was sure that this would be the best breakfast of my trip, and I'm pretty sure it will be.
I've noticed that most of the tour journals I've read talk a lot about meals and it looks like mine won't be much different. When you are burning 6-8,000 cals a day, it becomes a focus.
With my hands thawed, I continued through more small towns. Once the sun came out, things weren't so bad, although I was never able to take off my tights or fleece. As the track shows, there wasn't much climbing, mostly descents and flats, although I was into a headwind all day. Good thing, the first few climbs on a fully loaded touring bike are a shock. Things don't react the way you are used to and for me at least, standing up made things a lot less stable. More on that tomorrow, which promises bigger climbs.
The scenery was gorgeous. Most of the day was along rivers and creeks in the bottom of a valley, which explains the flatness. It mostly looked like this:
I highly recommend this route for anyone looking to do a little touring off the beaten path. There wasn't always a shoulder, and when there was, it wasn't always that wide, but not too many scary truck encounters and people up here seem to respect bikes. Ashland was insanely bike friendly. I was about to write about how bikey San Luis Obispo was (very) but Ashland one-upped it. Oregon has a law that requires cars stop for pedestrians waiting for a cross walk and drivers extend that to bikes as well.
Ashland in general was surreal. I was there not only because it was a great place to start this tour, but because my sister and I wanted to pay respects to our parents there. They loved coming up here for the Shakespeare festival that the town is known for. Even if you don't see a play, the place is unbelievably beautiful and people are ridiculously pleasant. It reminded me a lot of Ithaca, where I was ostensibly educated in the law (it is home to Southern Oregon University,) except the students looked happy and weren't noticeably from Long Island.
Just below the Elizabethan stage for the festival, I found a storybook looking public park with a pond and ducks. I had it to myself. On a green next to it, a guy was playing cello for a couple friends. I felt like I was in the Truman Show or something, it couldn't be real.
I scattered my mom and dad's ashes there. It was pretty emotional but I don't write about stuff like this. I'd rather be distant and smart ass.
So back to the trip. Coming up on Amtrak was okay. It is a long time to be sitting on the train, but a lot of it was overnight, so I slept. I also read "Out Stealing Horses" by Per Petterson-- kind of a Scandinavian Cormac McCarthy-- they both write books about boys living on a border with horses in the title. I liked it.
Taking a shuttle from Klamath Falls to Medford was definitely a good decision-- the road was beautiful-- it went by Crater Lake and Lake of the Woods but there were many elevation changes and it didn't look bike safe. I couldn't use the front rack on the bus because I couldn't clamp the front wheel due to my front rack, but the bus wasn't crowded, so I brought it onboard. The bus even had wifi and I was able to get the ticket from Amtrak.
I'll keep posting updates when I can. I'm pretty tired and a fire and some weird sweet potato noodles await. This campground is pretty cool, wifi and the store had some fleecy gloves for $2.50 that I can use until I hit a bike store. It may get close to freezing tonight, but for now, I'm happy.
[caption id="attachment_717" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Home sweet home, Wonder KOA"]
[/caption]day1
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Tomorrow I take Amtrak up to Oregon to start my ride. I've read enough tour journals over the last couple months to know that the protocol is to begin with an equipment list, so here is mine. Take it with a huge chunk of salt-- this is my first long tour. The list of stuff and where it's packed is for my own benefit too-- if I can't find something, I'll be able to find it wherever there is wifi...
The stuff:
Left Column - water bottles x 4, assorted vegan Asian sweet potato noodle mix (could be yuck-- oh well,) mini sriracha sauce, tons o' Clif Bars, Oat o' Life Tangy Lemon Chick'n Oatmeal, dehydrated fruit, MSR Pocket Rocket backpacking stove and two bottles fuel, pot and cookware, camera, Dell Mini 9 netbook, electronic adapters, Garmin Forerunner GPS (for tracking, not loaded with maps.)
Middle Column - Thermarest mattress (stuffed), sleeping bag (compressed), REI Half Dome HC Tent (compressed), footprint, extra stakes and line and poles, SOG knife, head lamp and tent lamp, first aid kit, books and maps.
Right Column - packable bike jacket, jersey, long and short sleeve technical t-shirts, bike shorts, fleece pullover, gym shorts, gym pants, camp towels, SPD shoes, helmet, gloves, sunglasses, extra tools (pedal wrench for train, etc...) that don't fit in seat bag and extra parts (tubes, master link..)
Packed Up:
Ortlieb Bike Packer Plus Rear Panniers
Right - clothes (in a compression sack), food (in a stuff sack), first aid kit in outer pocket.
Left - computer (rear inside pocket), sleeping pad (in stuff sack), stove/cookware/fuel, extra water bottles, books (outer pocket).
Ortlieb Medium Rack Pack (bungeed on top of rear panniers) - tent, sleeping bag, footprint, stakes and poles.
Ortlieb Sport Packer Plus Front Panniers
Right - tools, daytime food, camera.
Left - personal items, electronic adapters, maps.
The Beast:
Surly Long Haul Trucker 54cm - mostly stock except Nitto Noodle bars, old Shimano M-747 SPD pedals, Selle SMP Extra saddle, Surly Nice Rack front rack, Tubus Cargo rear rack, Schwalbe Marathon Racer 26" tires, Planet Bike Acadia fenders, Rivendell Brand V vegan handlebar and seat bags, "All my heroes have FBI files" sticker.
The Begin:
I will Amtrak from San Luis Obispo to Klamath Falls, Oregon. Amtrak has a big bike box that doesn't require you to remove the wheels-- you just loosen the bars and remove your pedals. On some trains you can just wheel your bike on without packing, but not the Coast Starlight. From Klamath Falls, I'll take a bus to Medford and then load up and ride about 15 miles to Ashland. I plan to spend the day in Ashland looking around and remembering my parents who really enjoyed it there. I'll stay in a hotel and then take off in the morning for the journey.
The stuff:
Left Column - water bottles x 4, assorted vegan Asian sweet potato noodle mix (could be yuck-- oh well,) mini sriracha sauce, tons o' Clif Bars, Oat o' Life Tangy Lemon Chick'n Oatmeal, dehydrated fruit, MSR Pocket Rocket backpacking stove and two bottles fuel, pot and cookware, camera, Dell Mini 9 netbook, electronic adapters, Garmin Forerunner GPS (for tracking, not loaded with maps.)
Middle Column - Thermarest mattress (stuffed), sleeping bag (compressed), REI Half Dome HC Tent (compressed), footprint, extra stakes and line and poles, SOG knife, head lamp and tent lamp, first aid kit, books and maps.
Right Column - packable bike jacket, jersey, long and short sleeve technical t-shirts, bike shorts, fleece pullover, gym shorts, gym pants, camp towels, SPD shoes, helmet, gloves, sunglasses, extra tools (pedal wrench for train, etc...) that don't fit in seat bag and extra parts (tubes, master link..)
Packed Up:
Ortlieb Bike Packer Plus Rear Panniers
Right - clothes (in a compression sack), food (in a stuff sack), first aid kit in outer pocket.
Left - computer (rear inside pocket), sleeping pad (in stuff sack), stove/cookware/fuel, extra water bottles, books (outer pocket).
Ortlieb Medium Rack Pack (bungeed on top of rear panniers) - tent, sleeping bag, footprint, stakes and poles.
Ortlieb Sport Packer Plus Front Panniers
Right - tools, daytime food, camera.
Left - personal items, electronic adapters, maps.
The Beast:
Surly Long Haul Trucker 54cm - mostly stock except Nitto Noodle bars, old Shimano M-747 SPD pedals, Selle SMP Extra saddle, Surly Nice Rack front rack, Tubus Cargo rear rack, Schwalbe Marathon Racer 26" tires, Planet Bike Acadia fenders, Rivendell Brand V vegan handlebar and seat bags, "All my heroes have FBI files" sticker.
The Begin:
I will Amtrak from San Luis Obispo to Klamath Falls, Oregon. Amtrak has a big bike box that doesn't require you to remove the wheels-- you just loosen the bars and remove your pedals. On some trains you can just wheel your bike on without packing, but not the Coast Starlight. From Klamath Falls, I'll take a bus to Medford and then load up and ride about 15 miles to Ashland. I plan to spend the day in Ashland looking around and remembering my parents who really enjoyed it there. I'll stay in a hotel and then take off in the morning for the journey.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
I've been planning to tour the Pacific Coast by bike for a while now and I start next week. Tomorrow, Leonard and I head up to the Central Coast to babysit Penelope Pitstop for my sister. Then I'll pack my bike and Amtrak up to Klamath Falls, Oregon. From there I will either bus or ride to Ashland, home of a Shakespeare festival that my parents enjoyed. I'll do something there to remember them and then head for the California Coast and back down to Cambria and then east to Paso Robles.
I'm packed to do it self-supported, camping the way down, but I can't rule out an occasional cheap hotel stop. Most of my days look like they are in the 60-75 mile range. which allows time to see the sites.
One of my challenges is going to be finding enough good vegan calories to keep me going, but California in the early fall shouldn't present too many barriers to fresh veggies and such. It better not, actually, because I'm already about as skinny as I can be without really freaking people out. I am packing my camp stove and some oatmeal and noodles that I've grabbed in advance but you can't really pack enough food at once to do more than supplement what you buy on the road. Before I leave Paso I'll have to research decent vegan options at fast food places along the way (yeah right). At least I've already packed a mini bottle of sriracha sauce which should last me at least 3 or 4 days. A recent analysis of my diet revealed that it's 40 percent hot sauce, mostly Por Kwan sriracha and Bufalo Chipotle.
I'm taking my Garmin to track my route and if I can keep that, my camera, and my netbook charged and find some occasional wifi, I plan to post updates on here. My camera is a little big for my handlebar bag but as long as I figure out a convenient place to pack it in my panniers or on one of the racks, I should be able to document some of the experience.
For a really good blog about a much longer trip, check out Scott at powercycle.net. He's doing a truly epic trip and he documents it well. Dude got rid of all his stuff, packed his bike, and left Florida for Alaska. When he got there, he headed south for parts unknown. Also, he's a good guy and he corresponded with me and answered some questions. I've read through his whole trip and have been both fascinated by the journey and blown away by its scope. Check it out, seriously.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
90 Miles to Oceanside
This could have been my first imperial century (not in the Chomsky sense in which case it is my second) but I got a flat and was concerned with the time so I turned around in downtown Oceanside. Nice to still have that milestone for later anyway. I knew that physical training makes the miles easier on my body but it's interesting the way in which riding familiar parts of a route speed it in my mind. When I can visualize what is coming, the mind skips past them, almost jumping me forward. Part of the discomfort on my hardest rides was definitely the element of not knowing what was ahead. Something to look forward to on longer tours. The unknown ups the intensity.
Another thing I've learned is how my heart rate increases based on the length of activity. On this ride, I had already gone 65 miles before beginning my longest climb (just a mile and half, but the longest on the coast route) up Torrey Pines. The combination of the long warm up with the climb gave me a nice long period close to my previous max. I'll fix that fucking ticker yet. If the Democrats weren't such fucking corporate sucking wimps, maybe I could afford the diagnostics to find out. As it stands, it doesn't look they'll even provide a way for people like me with pre-existing conditions (hospitalization with heart disease) to get into a plan. I haven't been saying much "I told you so" to the people who thought Obama and Democratic majority in both houses would push "progressive" policies but I did tell you that the fix was in on health care as soon as Obama put that whore Daschle out there. This shit was dead before it even started. Hail Aetna.
oceanside
Another thing I've learned is how my heart rate increases based on the length of activity. On this ride, I had already gone 65 miles before beginning my longest climb (just a mile and half, but the longest on the coast route) up Torrey Pines. The combination of the long warm up with the climb gave me a nice long period close to my previous max. I'll fix that fucking ticker yet. If the Democrats weren't such fucking corporate sucking wimps, maybe I could afford the diagnostics to find out. As it stands, it doesn't look they'll even provide a way for people like me with pre-existing conditions (hospitalization with heart disease) to get into a plan. I haven't been saying much "I told you so" to the people who thought Obama and Democratic majority in both houses would push "progressive" policies but I did tell you that the fix was in on health care as soon as Obama put that whore Daschle out there. This shit was dead before it even started. Hail Aetna.
oceanside
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A book that I'm reading about long-distance cycling opens with a story about Fausto Coppi,a legendary Italian cyclist back in the day. A reporter asked him what it took to become a great cyclist. ""You must do three things,' Coppi said after a long pause, 'Ride your bike, ride your bike, ride your bike.'" The great Eddie Merckx (the pre-Lance/pre-marketing consensus as the greatest of all-time) offered a similar plan, "ride lots."
This advice may seem obvious, but I don't think that I instantly grasped the all encompassing magnitude of this wisdom when I began to really get into my bike. For instance, when I first started going on longer rides, I suffered from a common yet scary numbness of the junk and an annoying pain in the ass. I did some research, talked to some people and ended up getting replacing the crappy seat that came on my Surly. The problem has resolved, I can feel my penis, but I suspect that much of the issue was resolved by my body becoming accustomed to the activity. Ditto for a problem in my upper back/shoulder that almost took me off the bike and made things kind of dangerous because I couldn't turn my head to the left to check traffic. I did replace my stock bars and stem with a better set up but I suspect that a lot of my new found comfort just comes from my body adjusting to the activity. I have a feeling that a lot of online discussions and bike shop queries could be replaced with Coppio and Merckx's wisdom.
This sagacity applies to other commonly debbated equipment issues. If you accidently (or intentionally, I guess) wander into hardcore bike geek discussions, you'll find endless angst about component weight, calculated down to the gram when for most, the biggest reducible load on the bike is found in the rider's own girth. My own bike weighs about 28 pounds stock. The total weight of my bike plus rider has decreased 60 pounds since I got it, a loss not attributable to any ultra light components but to another result of following the above dictum.
Yesterday I gave myself a time limit to get as far up the coast as I could before turning and heading home. I made it almost to Carlsbad and logged 73.5 miles. The climb back up to Torrey Pines is a highlight of the coast route. Last week the grade was freshly chalked with inspirational messages, apparently a dad was doing a birthday ride and his kids drove the route and wrote things like "almost there" and "sprint for the top Dad!" It was either very foggy out or these kids have a sick sense of humor because "almost there" wasn't even half way up. The messages were still there but I wasn't fooled this week. Little fucks.
Here's the route:
leucadia
This advice may seem obvious, but I don't think that I instantly grasped the all encompassing magnitude of this wisdom when I began to really get into my bike. For instance, when I first started going on longer rides, I suffered from a common yet scary numbness of the junk and an annoying pain in the ass. I did some research, talked to some people and ended up getting replacing the crappy seat that came on my Surly. The problem has resolved, I can feel my penis, but I suspect that much of the issue was resolved by my body becoming accustomed to the activity. Ditto for a problem in my upper back/shoulder that almost took me off the bike and made things kind of dangerous because I couldn't turn my head to the left to check traffic. I did replace my stock bars and stem with a better set up but I suspect that a lot of my new found comfort just comes from my body adjusting to the activity. I have a feeling that a lot of online discussions and bike shop queries could be replaced with Coppio and Merckx's wisdom.
This sagacity applies to other commonly debbated equipment issues. If you accidently (or intentionally, I guess) wander into hardcore bike geek discussions, you'll find endless angst about component weight, calculated down to the gram when for most, the biggest reducible load on the bike is found in the rider's own girth. My own bike weighs about 28 pounds stock. The total weight of my bike plus rider has decreased 60 pounds since I got it, a loss not attributable to any ultra light components but to another result of following the above dictum.
Yesterday I gave myself a time limit to get as far up the coast as I could before turning and heading home. I made it almost to Carlsbad and logged 73.5 miles. The climb back up to Torrey Pines is a highlight of the coast route. Last week the grade was freshly chalked with inspirational messages, apparently a dad was doing a birthday ride and his kids drove the route and wrote things like "almost there" and "sprint for the top Dad!" It was either very foggy out or these kids have a sick sense of humor because "almost there" wasn't even half way up. The messages were still there but I wasn't fooled this week. Little fucks.
Here's the route:
leucadia
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday night, I went with Lizz and Beau to the Battle for San Diego, a regional competition and fundraiser for the San Diego slam team, who are in West Palm Beach for the nationals as I write. It was the first time that I've been down to Evoke to see the new slam/space and I can confirm that things are in great hands. The joint was packed and the crowd was young and enthusiastic. It was all good as far as I'm concerned. I think that the event benefits from the fact that it is being conducted by someone who isn't jaded and heard it all already because while most of the poetry isn't something that you wouldn't hear in every other venue across the country, it is new to the kids that are attending the slam and that is probably the point.
Toward the end of the old slam, while I was using the mic as a forum for some radical politics and lifestyle choices, and my eventual frustration with the constant emulation/repetition of standard HBO Def Poetry forms was probably evident to the audience, at the new slam, Chris and Kendrick let the kids believe that they are viewing something new and exciting and that's fine too. Back when Pat and I were participating in the formative years of American punk (pause for pat on the shoulder), the last thing we would have tolerated was some old curmudgeon from the past telling us how we should do it. So good job Collective Purpose and good luck San Diego in West Palm Beach.
Yesterday, I took a fairly leisurely 65 mile ride up the coast and back. It could have been longer but I got a late start due to meandering around trying to fix a stripped seat clamp (thanks Cal Coast Bicycles) so I just cruised up as far as I could within some time constraints. The coast route is pretty reliable, even in the summer it doesn't get too hot and as it is really popular with the roadie crowd, traffic is pretty tolerant of bikes. It isn't all fun and sun along the beach-- climbing Torrey Pines in each direction is a big pull but the scenery is great (except for the constant litter of Gu wrappers-- maybe there should be a spandex/carbon fiber tax) and if you need to pull over and rest, you are doing it on a beach. This length has become pretty routine to me, so I need to either lengthen it, ride faster, or go over those fucking mountains again to get a good torture session.
cardiff
Toward the end of the old slam, while I was using the mic as a forum for some radical politics and lifestyle choices, and my eventual frustration with the constant emulation/repetition of standard HBO Def Poetry forms was probably evident to the audience, at the new slam, Chris and Kendrick let the kids believe that they are viewing something new and exciting and that's fine too. Back when Pat and I were participating in the formative years of American punk (pause for pat on the shoulder), the last thing we would have tolerated was some old curmudgeon from the past telling us how we should do it. So good job Collective Purpose and good luck San Diego in West Palm Beach.
Yesterday, I took a fairly leisurely 65 mile ride up the coast and back. It could have been longer but I got a late start due to meandering around trying to fix a stripped seat clamp (thanks Cal Coast Bicycles) so I just cruised up as far as I could within some time constraints. The coast route is pretty reliable, even in the summer it doesn't get too hot and as it is really popular with the roadie crowd, traffic is pretty tolerant of bikes. It isn't all fun and sun along the beach-- climbing Torrey Pines in each direction is a big pull but the scenery is great (except for the constant litter of Gu wrappers-- maybe there should be a spandex/carbon fiber tax) and if you need to pull over and rest, you are doing it on a beach. This length has become pretty routine to me, so I need to either lengthen it, ride faster, or go over those fucking mountains again to get a good torture session.
cardiff
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
My mom passed away one year ago today. My sister and I are hosting a small reflection for her this weekend but I wasn't sure what I would do today. I decided to wear myself out on Monday so I could just be relaxed and contemplative today. I'm thinking about her but not ready to share feelings in blog form. All I can say is that she was always there for me and I miss her.
What I can write about is the ridiculous torture ride that I ended up doing yesterday. I knew that I wanted to do at least a metric century (62 in miles) as I always do on Mondays and also ride a new area, possibly with some decent hills. Lizz asked me this weekend about going over the hill in Jamul to Chula Vista so I was thinking about that when I scanned mapmyride and bikely. I didn't find the exact route I wanted so I put together something that looked doable using the awesome gmap pedometer.
Let me say that unless it is a topographic map that you study closely, using a flat representation to plan a trip is risky but riding an area that you're not familiar with adds a level of excitement and tension that you don't get from your daily routine (especially if you forget your carefully written cue sheet). Also, if you can't find routes using a similar path or in the same direction that you plan, there might be a reason.
Enough preamble. The ride I worked out went from the Harbor area through National City on 8th, down Paradise Valley Road which turns into Jamacha Blvd., through 94 past Rancho San Diego, and eventually up onto Lyons Valley Road over Jamul to Honey Springs Road, down the hill (finally) to Otay Lakes and into Bonita for the ride home.
The beginning is pretty standard, ho-hum urban trekking. Things get interesting in Jamul. The first thing that I learned, was that when you see a store that you suspect is the last services offered for many miles, you might be right. Especially if it is over 90 out and you haven't loaded up on liquids. For instance, passing the 7-11 in Jamul is dumb but it makes things interesting.
Eventually, Lyons Valley Road becomes desolate and starts to go up a mountain. Traffic is not a problem, I went 15 minutes at a time without being passed by a car, which is good because there is no shoulder for most of the climb. And it is a climb. Portions of the grade are 7% and it goes up to over 2600 feet, more than once. Before I hit the halfway point of the route, I had ascended three different passes. At some points I had to drop down to a total granny gear. Maybe you wouldn't if you have giant quads and calves and a 14 pound carbon fiber racing machine, but for me on 30 pounds of partially loaded steel touring bike, this was pretty much my max. Looking back at the data, I see that I hit zone 5 and had gone anaerobic well before the mid-point, not a good idea for finishing the day.
Did I mention that I skipped the 7-11 in Jamul? At the hottest part of the day, on the steepest and most remote part of the pass, I was left with about an inch of hot gatorade in my last bottle. Smart. Just at the point where you realize that you've finally summited, Mecca comes into view: The Lyons Valley Trading Post:
I doubt that anyone on a bike has ever passed this place going in either direction. It is air-conditioned and has a beautiful porch with benches. I sat there and sucked down some cold caffeine and gatorade (yummy HFCS), ate a banana and refilled my bottles. After the Trading Post, there is one more very difficult climb (where I saw a totally intact road kill deer with antlers) and then miles of drop on Honey Springs Road into the Otay Lakes area. Now, all of a sudden, I see bikes, going in the opposite direction-- wonder why... Wusses. I still had more than 30 miles to go but it was somewhat familiar and I knew that I wasn't climbing any more mountains.
One embarrassing revelation-- as I hit the boonies of Spring Valley, for the first time ever I stripped off my cargo shorts and went bare lycra bike shorts. Wow. So much more comfortable. I may never do it again, but now I understand those road bike guys. Shaving your legs and wearing your sunglasses outside your helmet straps, I still don't get-- but getting rid of all that heavy flapping canvas was liberating. On the downside, it exposed skin above my knees that hadn't seen sun since before junior high. I've got two nice 2 inch strips of sunburn. On the upside, that's the only real physical pain I have today and I wanted something like that to dwell on.
Not nearly as articulate as I wanted to be today. Just wanted to get something out and be distracted for a few so I did and I'll leave it. Here's the route:
lyonsvalley
What I can write about is the ridiculous torture ride that I ended up doing yesterday. I knew that I wanted to do at least a metric century (62 in miles) as I always do on Mondays and also ride a new area, possibly with some decent hills. Lizz asked me this weekend about going over the hill in Jamul to Chula Vista so I was thinking about that when I scanned mapmyride and bikely. I didn't find the exact route I wanted so I put together something that looked doable using the awesome gmap pedometer.
Let me say that unless it is a topographic map that you study closely, using a flat representation to plan a trip is risky but riding an area that you're not familiar with adds a level of excitement and tension that you don't get from your daily routine (especially if you forget your carefully written cue sheet). Also, if you can't find routes using a similar path or in the same direction that you plan, there might be a reason.
Enough preamble. The ride I worked out went from the Harbor area through National City on 8th, down Paradise Valley Road which turns into Jamacha Blvd., through 94 past Rancho San Diego, and eventually up onto Lyons Valley Road over Jamul to Honey Springs Road, down the hill (finally) to Otay Lakes and into Bonita for the ride home.
The beginning is pretty standard, ho-hum urban trekking. Things get interesting in Jamul. The first thing that I learned, was that when you see a store that you suspect is the last services offered for many miles, you might be right. Especially if it is over 90 out and you haven't loaded up on liquids. For instance, passing the 7-11 in Jamul is dumb but it makes things interesting.
Eventually, Lyons Valley Road becomes desolate and starts to go up a mountain. Traffic is not a problem, I went 15 minutes at a time without being passed by a car, which is good because there is no shoulder for most of the climb. And it is a climb. Portions of the grade are 7% and it goes up to over 2600 feet, more than once. Before I hit the halfway point of the route, I had ascended three different passes. At some points I had to drop down to a total granny gear. Maybe you wouldn't if you have giant quads and calves and a 14 pound carbon fiber racing machine, but for me on 30 pounds of partially loaded steel touring bike, this was pretty much my max. Looking back at the data, I see that I hit zone 5 and had gone anaerobic well before the mid-point, not a good idea for finishing the day.
Did I mention that I skipped the 7-11 in Jamul? At the hottest part of the day, on the steepest and most remote part of the pass, I was left with about an inch of hot gatorade in my last bottle. Smart. Just at the point where you realize that you've finally summited, Mecca comes into view: The Lyons Valley Trading Post:
I doubt that anyone on a bike has ever passed this place going in either direction. It is air-conditioned and has a beautiful porch with benches. I sat there and sucked down some cold caffeine and gatorade (yummy HFCS), ate a banana and refilled my bottles. After the Trading Post, there is one more very difficult climb (where I saw a totally intact road kill deer with antlers) and then miles of drop on Honey Springs Road into the Otay Lakes area. Now, all of a sudden, I see bikes, going in the opposite direction-- wonder why... Wusses. I still had more than 30 miles to go but it was somewhat familiar and I knew that I wasn't climbing any more mountains.
One embarrassing revelation-- as I hit the boonies of Spring Valley, for the first time ever I stripped off my cargo shorts and went bare lycra bike shorts. Wow. So much more comfortable. I may never do it again, but now I understand those road bike guys. Shaving your legs and wearing your sunglasses outside your helmet straps, I still don't get-- but getting rid of all that heavy flapping canvas was liberating. On the downside, it exposed skin above my knees that hadn't seen sun since before junior high. I've got two nice 2 inch strips of sunburn. On the upside, that's the only real physical pain I have today and I wanted something like that to dwell on.
Not nearly as articulate as I wanted to be today. Just wanted to get something out and be distracted for a few so I did and I'll leave it. Here's the route:
lyonsvalley
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Saturday, I coasted for about 3 miles with my friend Lizz to go to the City Heights Farmers Market. We left around 930 in the morning, and she was obviously distracted by the idea that it was really hot out. Yesterday, I woke up and the radio was blabbing about the "July Fry" and sensationalizing how "hot and humid" it was going to be.
I go for long rides on Mondays. After hearing the alarm on the radio, I almost considered cutting down my route. But seriously, this is San Diego, we have few temperature extremes, at least inside the 15. I went on my regular 60 mile loop up across Rancho Penasquitos and back and I hit the Torrey Pines/UCSD area around 11 a.m.. The whole area was completely covered in fog. No sweltering sun, no 90 percent humidity-- in 99 percent of the country, this would be considered an optimal, picture perfect July day. Even riding through the Miramar wasteland on Kearny Villa Road during the hottest part of the day, it just wasn't that bad. It was by far the least suffering that I've done on that loop, even though it was one of the warmer days we've had this year. Coastal San Diego just doesn't have much weather. We have earthquakes, droughts, and fires, but if you are reasonably coastal, there really isn't much weather to talk or complain about.
Unless you are Leonard-- he thinks it's hot:
After a scare a couple months ago, I am just glad that the old guy is still around.
Here is my route. There's nothing too different about it, so I added some viewing options. Click on them at the top of the gmap, they are kinda cool.
2009-07-20T16_0
I go for long rides on Mondays. After hearing the alarm on the radio, I almost considered cutting down my route. But seriously, this is San Diego, we have few temperature extremes, at least inside the 15. I went on my regular 60 mile loop up across Rancho Penasquitos and back and I hit the Torrey Pines/UCSD area around 11 a.m.. The whole area was completely covered in fog. No sweltering sun, no 90 percent humidity-- in 99 percent of the country, this would be considered an optimal, picture perfect July day. Even riding through the Miramar wasteland on Kearny Villa Road during the hottest part of the day, it just wasn't that bad. It was by far the least suffering that I've done on that loop, even though it was one of the warmer days we've had this year. Coastal San Diego just doesn't have much weather. We have earthquakes, droughts, and fires, but if you are reasonably coastal, there really isn't much weather to talk or complain about.
Unless you are Leonard-- he thinks it's hot:
After a scare a couple months ago, I am just glad that the old guy is still around.
Here is my route. There's nothing too different about it, so I added some viewing options. Click on them at the top of the gmap, they are kinda cool.
2009-07-20T16_0
Friday, July 17, 2009
Buckwheat Groats
I picked up some buckwheat groats from the bulk bins at Jimbo's. Despite the "wheat" they are actually a fruit and are gluten-free. I prepared them like the grits except I toasted them for a few with the sauteed aromatics before adding about 4 1/2 cups of water. These also have roasted New Mexico chilies and grilled zucchini. They are way more tender than I thought they'd be. A good hearty breakfast.
Henry's on 3rd and J in Chula Vista is a great place to shop the bulk bins for cool grains and stuff. It is full of vegan goodness and blows the North Park store away. Ride your bike down there and enjoy the wildlife along the cool bike path. Unless you drive everywhere you go, but then you probably hate this blog, in which case, thanks for reading it anyway and continue not posting comments. Also, don't breed too much.
henrys
Henry's on 3rd and J in Chula Vista is a great place to shop the bulk bins for cool grains and stuff. It is full of vegan goodness and blows the North Park store away. Ride your bike down there and enjoy the wildlife along the cool bike path. Unless you drive everywhere you go, but then you probably hate this blog, in which case, thanks for reading it anyway and continue not posting comments. Also, don't breed too much.
henrys
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
"The More You Drive, the Less Intelligent You Are"
[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="134" caption="Miller"]
[/caption]
Riding a bike in real world traffic can be frustrating. It is easy for me to get a bad attitude about the people I interact with out there. Like the oblivious douche in the Tundra who smacks you in the back with his ridiculously oversized mirror. Or the princess driving her Lexus the half mile between Starbucks and her treadmill while talking on her cell phone who pinches you into the curb while making a right turn and doesn't notice.
But then there are the good experiences with people. Sunday, while doing a quick lap to pick up the New York Times, I got a flat-- normally an annoyance. But while sitting at the bus stop in front of Henry's to fix it, I had a great conversation with an old lady about life. I forgot about the injustice of pavement and it was the highlight of my day.
Saturday, I met up with the "I Love to Bike Mid-City Bike Blast" at the City Heights Farmers Market. A bunch of adults and little kids cruised around the City Heights area and checked out some cool urban gardens in public spaces and back yards. People in cars ignored us. People out on the streets interacted as we cruised by. A good time with cool people. Some pics are here and here.
The common denominator is people getting around without cars. They just seem nicer and more in touch with their world. Even the spandex snob on the $8,000 Cervelo will give you a nod of respect as he blows by you. It's probably like Miller said in Repo Man, "[t]he more you drive, the less intelligent you are."
I really enjoy getting out on the dedicated paths where I don't have to deal with the Studebakers and their less intelligent owners. Today, I made up a 42 mile round trip to mail a package to my sis using the paths in the South Bay and up to Coronado and back. Totally pleasant:
coronadoandback
[/caption]Riding a bike in real world traffic can be frustrating. It is easy for me to get a bad attitude about the people I interact with out there. Like the oblivious douche in the Tundra who smacks you in the back with his ridiculously oversized mirror. Or the princess driving her Lexus the half mile between Starbucks and her treadmill while talking on her cell phone who pinches you into the curb while making a right turn and doesn't notice.
But then there are the good experiences with people. Sunday, while doing a quick lap to pick up the New York Times, I got a flat-- normally an annoyance. But while sitting at the bus stop in front of Henry's to fix it, I had a great conversation with an old lady about life. I forgot about the injustice of pavement and it was the highlight of my day.
Saturday, I met up with the "I Love to Bike Mid-City Bike Blast" at the City Heights Farmers Market. A bunch of adults and little kids cruised around the City Heights area and checked out some cool urban gardens in public spaces and back yards. People in cars ignored us. People out on the streets interacted as we cruised by. A good time with cool people. Some pics are here and here.
The common denominator is people getting around without cars. They just seem nicer and more in touch with their world. Even the spandex snob on the $8,000 Cervelo will give you a nod of respect as he blows by you. It's probably like Miller said in Repo Man, "[t]he more you drive, the less intelligent you are."
I really enjoy getting out on the dedicated paths where I don't have to deal with the Studebakers and their less intelligent owners. Today, I made up a 42 mile round trip to mail a package to my sis using the paths in the South Bay and up to Coronado and back. Totally pleasant:
coronadoandback
Monday, July 13, 2009
56 Bike Path Again-- Better Route
This was about a 62 mile ride. Basically the same except a much more direct route down through Mission Valley. Most of this ride is relatively Studebaker free but it gets annoying toward the end. I am really sick of going through the Broadway/Gaslamp region. I guess it is time to suck it up and start climbing out of the valley even after a long day.
The canyons out by the 15 are pretty hot in the summer. Go figure. Today, a guy on a TT bike passed me on a climb (no news there) and he was shirtless in short short tri- short/Speedo things. At the time I was baking in my Dickies shorts and all I could think was, dignity/fashion choices aside, he was probably more comfortable than I was. Not in my future, regardless. Nor fixie kid jean shorts.
better56
The canyons out by the 15 are pretty hot in the summer. Go figure. Today, a guy on a TT bike passed me on a climb (no news there) and he was shirtless in short short tri- short/Speedo things. At the time I was baking in my Dickies shorts and all I could think was, dignity/fashion choices aside, he was probably more comfortable than I was. Not in my future, regardless. Nor fixie kid jean shorts.
better56
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Route 56 Bike Path
This was a pretty long ride of 65 miles. Don't use the whole route-- I messed up coming down to the 8 and ended up way too far east and had to poke along Friars where I made some mistakes. Convoy to Linda Vista is better. I could have sucked it up and just climbed out of the valley on Texas but I was borderline bonked and headed for Old Town and down Kettner.
The 56 bike path is a little bumpy but pretty nice. It starts at Carmel Valley Road and El Camino Real and goes east. I bailed at Black Mountain Road but it keeps going.
Climbing up the mesa at Torrey Pines I got "one little, two little, three little Indians" stuck in my head. Very annoying, but not as politically incorrect as you think. I was actually dreaming of Padma Lakshmi. Still potentially incorrect, but different.
route56
The 56 bike path is a little bumpy but pretty nice. It starts at Carmel Valley Road and El Camino Real and goes east. I bailed at Black Mountain Road but it keeps going.
Climbing up the mesa at Torrey Pines I got "one little, two little, three little Indians" stuck in my head. Very annoying, but not as politically incorrect as you think. I was actually dreaming of Padma Lakshmi. Still potentially incorrect, but different.
route56
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Growing up in the beaches of LA, we believed the saying "there's no life east of Pacific Coast Highway" at least until we discovered punk rock and Hollywood. In San Diego, a large portion of the population draws a Maginot Line at the 94, keeping to the north. Even folks in my hipster ghetto of South Park, which abuts the line, tend to stay on their own side.
Even on bike, when considering the realm of possible bike errands, we tend to look north, even though Mission Valley and the mesas are filled with dangerous on-ramps and gnarly hills. We tend to forget that the South Bay exists (if you are brown or grew up down there-- not you.)
Since I've begun my journeys on bike, I've been fairly guilty of this myself, with the exception of weekly laps down to Imperial Beach and up Coronado to the ferry on the newly completed South Bay to Silver Strand bike path but that is going to change due to my pleasant ride this weekend.
My swap meet specials are pretty scratched up, so Saturday morning I was going to check out Performance's summer sale for some cheap sunglasses. Their shop on Midway in Pt. Loma immediately came to mind, but on a bike, this puts you through some of the sketchiest bike commute zones in the area.
A quick google revealed told me that Performance has a store on Bonita Road in, you guessed it-- Bonita. I took a quick look on Ride the City's San Diego test site which showed a way to get there using the bike path along the Sweetwater River. Looking to lengthen the ride and combine errands, I also found the Chula Vista Henry's on 3rd and J.
With the route firmly locked in my mind (I forgot to bring the printout) I set out through Logan and down Harbor to Pepper Park in National City, where you can pick up bike-only paths heading east and south. I've done the south route plenty of times on the way to Imperial Beach but never headed east. Very cool, pretty well-surfaced and no fucking traffic, plus it goes through a nature preserve. You're finally dumped out at the Westfield Plaza Bonita-- so if you ever need a mall (yeah, I don't either), this is a lot less stressful ride than the aforementioned slog into Mission Valley on bike and actually very fucking easy and mellow.
Without directions in hand, I unnecessarily climbed one mesa but found Performance pretty easily. From there it was a cruise through mostly residential neighborhoods to the Chula Vista Henry's which is huge compared to North Park, totally clean, and filled with old ladies who totally look like they know their mangoes-- a welcome alternative to the pseudo-high school reunion of all your crunchier friends that you get when shopping uptown. To get back, go west on any of the letter (L, K, J,) streets and follow the Bayshore Bikeway signs back to Harbor and 32nd. Only a 25 mile round-trip and totally low stress, low hill and low traffic.
[caption id="attachment_550" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="click to view"]
[/caption]
bonita
Even on bike, when considering the realm of possible bike errands, we tend to look north, even though Mission Valley and the mesas are filled with dangerous on-ramps and gnarly hills. We tend to forget that the South Bay exists (if you are brown or grew up down there-- not you.)
Since I've begun my journeys on bike, I've been fairly guilty of this myself, with the exception of weekly laps down to Imperial Beach and up Coronado to the ferry on the newly completed South Bay to Silver Strand bike path but that is going to change due to my pleasant ride this weekend.
My swap meet specials are pretty scratched up, so Saturday morning I was going to check out Performance's summer sale for some cheap sunglasses. Their shop on Midway in Pt. Loma immediately came to mind, but on a bike, this puts you through some of the sketchiest bike commute zones in the area.
A quick google revealed told me that Performance has a store on Bonita Road in, you guessed it-- Bonita. I took a quick look on Ride the City's San Diego test site which showed a way to get there using the bike path along the Sweetwater River. Looking to lengthen the ride and combine errands, I also found the Chula Vista Henry's on 3rd and J.
With the route firmly locked in my mind (I forgot to bring the printout) I set out through Logan and down Harbor to Pepper Park in National City, where you can pick up bike-only paths heading east and south. I've done the south route plenty of times on the way to Imperial Beach but never headed east. Very cool, pretty well-surfaced and no fucking traffic, plus it goes through a nature preserve. You're finally dumped out at the Westfield Plaza Bonita-- so if you ever need a mall (yeah, I don't either), this is a lot less stressful ride than the aforementioned slog into Mission Valley on bike and actually very fucking easy and mellow.
Without directions in hand, I unnecessarily climbed one mesa but found Performance pretty easily. From there it was a cruise through mostly residential neighborhoods to the Chula Vista Henry's which is huge compared to North Park, totally clean, and filled with old ladies who totally look like they know their mangoes-- a welcome alternative to the pseudo-high school reunion of all your crunchier friends that you get when shopping uptown. To get back, go west on any of the letter (L, K, J,) streets and follow the Bayshore Bikeway signs back to Harbor and 32nd. Only a 25 mile round-trip and totally low stress, low hill and low traffic.
[caption id="attachment_550" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="click to view"]
[/caption]bonita
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Recent Stuff
I haven't been on this site much lately but I'm still around, mostly on my bike. I'm over 50 pounds lighter than I was at the beginning of the year, so you probably wouldn't recognize me anyway. Below is something from a new toy that I am using to track my exploits. More to come.
http://www.cyclogz.com/activity/4033
http://www.cyclogz.com/activity/4033
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