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
