P.s. - Phone signal

Forgot to say, I'm still stuck unable to make outgoing calls texts.
Hopefully that'll change at San Fran.

Sent from my iPhone

Back to normal (if I ever was?)

Day 18, Stage 13 - Garberville to Mendicino
81 miles in 9 hrs (incl. 1 long food stop)
Total distance - 992 miles
Safely checked in here in Mendocino, a quaint and picturesque little town on the coast that is surprisingly populous given it was the setting for most of Jessica Fletcher's adventures in Murder She Wrote.

Much better day today but still worryingly tough. I could tell that I was flirting dangerously close to another monster blow up on more than a few occasions.

Starting off, the forecast was again for another warm day, though not as hot as yesterday. However, I hoped to avoid the worst of the heat as I would be crossing over the mountains out the valleys back to the, hopefully cooler, Pacific Coast by the afternoon.

The first 20ish miles into Leggett were mildly irritating with far too many 300ft climb/descent stints, making for a slow start. I was therefore, in a way quite happy to finally, after some 900 miles, turn off Highway 101 and set off at the very start of Highway 1 (see pic). Once in Leggett I took the short detour to cycle through the legendary 'drive-through-tree'. Yup, I know it sounds tacky but I actually thought it was a really impressive sight, especially considering said tree is still very much alive and well. So I sat there for quite a while eating lunch chuckling at the irony of folk tentatively inching their over sized SUVs through.

I was also in no rush to move on as it was warming up and I knew what lay ahead. It was the Legget Hill, probably the third-toughest climb on my whole route (behind two on the never-happened Mattole stage). Finally I rolled out of Leggett and began the ascent with the thermometer now around 27C. It was definitely tough, not insanely so (approx. 1300ft in 5 miles), but the really remarkable thing was that in those 5 miles I can't remember one single pedal-turn of downhill, or even flat, it was just continuous grind - strangely enjoyable though. But nowhere near as enjoyable as the descent down towards the Pacific again. 1,800ft and several miles of unadulterated cycling joy, sweeping and twisting through the shadows of the forest. One for the purists and easily up there in my top three downhills ever - and, yes, if you're wondering, I've got favourite climbs as well, cycling uphill can be fun in my book.

The descent back to the ocean also brought the temperature drop I was hoping for, and some. From 27C at the summit it was suddenly a relatively chilly 13C at sea level, despite still being under blue skies. Temperature inversion? Definitely.

The next 45 miles are a bit of a delightful blur of surf, beaches, sea lions and headlands. A blur that was, however, frequently punctuated by that temperature inversion. The boundary could only have been a hundred or so feet up but it made for the counter-intuitive concept of climbing into the 20C heat and then descending into the 13C cool. 7C doesn't sound much, but with it being the 'wrong-way-round' it caused some real issues with my thermoregulation.

Still, I made it here in one piece and hoping the forecast is right, being for things to cool back to civilized temps tomorrow as I begin the final 160 miles into San Fran.

..and, by the way, have you started humming the theme tune to Ms Fletcher's show yet? Cause it's been on repeat in my head since I arrived here 3 hrs ago.

When the wind, no longer chills

Day 17, Stage 12 - Ferndale to Garberville
59 miles in 7hrs (incl. numerous juice stops and even more collapse-at-the-side-of-the-road-with-heat-exhaustion stops)
I awoke after a relatively sleepless night with still-tired legs and a still-strained and delicate stomach. The Mattole was looking like a non-starter and any lingering thoughts I had of doing it were finally vanquished when I put on my Camelbak outside the hotel and realised the waist strap needed tightened by some 3 or 4 inches from where it had been only on Saturday. Had I really been that I'll? Apparently so.

So, I turned left instead of right and rolled out into the late morning sunshine for a fast first 10 miles past the cows trying all the while to avoid shredding the numerous, seemingly suicidal butterflies. I felt almost good but then I hit the first hill of the day. It went up a trivial 200ft and I didn't, at least not easily. I knew then that the Mattole would have been a serious, if not terminal mistake. My tank was still very close to empty.

While missing out on the Mattole is gutting from a cycling point of view, fortunately the back-up route I was doing was by no means dull taking in the Avenue of the Giants (see pic). So, for most of the 32 miles of it I was back feeling like a three-year-old again and a three-year-old who was mercifully grateful for the shelter these mighty 'creatures' were giving as my thermometer had been showing over 20C when I'd first disappeared into the Avenue. It was now moving up markedly, even in the shade. By the time I'd arrived in Myers Flats, where my stomach was still quietly but adamantly insisting on a liquid only lunch, it was reading 30C in the shade. I was starting to fade and to make it worse, the trees were thinning and the temperature was continuing to increase.

Now, I'll be honest, I don't fully understand the concept of wind-chill. Sure, I get that it generally makes it feel colder but, as it gets warmer, it has less effect. Then, above around 32C, it all gets a bit bizarre (at least in my book) of actually making it feel warmer. Today was the first time I've actually experienced it on the bike but, believe me, it ain't pleasant to reach the top of a climb, dripping in sweat, hoping for the usual cooling breeze of the descent, but instead getting a blast of even warmer air. Something just isn't right and I could almost feel what little energy was left in me being sucked out by the heat.

The last six miles along the freeway, with the thermometer at 34C into Garberville were, frankly, hellish, almost comically so, but my spirits were lifted by the driver of the parked lorry who got out his cab to laugh at me collapsed in the shade from his trailer. I actually think he was quite worried, and probably rightly so.

I finally made it into Garberville and having gratefully checked into a motel here and done my stretches, I finally, for the first time in almost 3 days, feel hungry. Thankfully.

Here's hoping tomorrow's better, though, to be fair, the only thing that could be worse would be if I end up as carrion. Which was definitely not out the question today.

However, there's now a Mattole rat that's crept in my head quietly gnawing away.......

Recovery

Day 16 -Rehydration Day
Feeling a lot more human today but still far from ideal. Just doing a rough calc. and I reckon I'm on about a 9,000 - 10,000 calorie deficit since Friday am (which works out at about 4kgs). Still, the weather's finally brightened up and it's been beautiful couple of days here in Ferndale with only the occasional but disconcertingly random tsunami warning siren disturbing the peace in this charming little town

Forecast is looking good for tomorrow but still not sure if I'm up to doing the Mattole, or more importantly the next 3 days after.

Will see what the morning brings.

Setback

Day 15 - 'Rest Day'
Rest day, yeah right. After 2 weeks being stuffed full of all sorts, my stomach has thrown in the towel. It's 7.30 am over here and I reckon I've had about 3 hrs sleep having been repeatedly ill all night, unable to even keep water down.

It would be lunacy to attempt the monster stage tomorrow given how I'm feeling now so I'm either going to take the bail-out route or take an extra rest day here.

Off to try and get some sleep now.

The drugs do work

Day 14, Stage 11 - Prairie Creek campsite to Ferndale 77 miles in 9hrs 20mins (incl. 2 large food stops)
Total distance - 852 miles
When Fausto Coppi, a cycling great of the 40's and 50's, was asked if he had taken drugs when cycling his response was at least honest being 'when necessary'. Which lead to the obvious next question 'when is it necessary?' To which Coppi replied 'Almost always'.

Well it was 'necessary' for me today as it quickly became clear to me that yesterday's blowing up combined with the lack of any substantial food in the evening had left me with one seriously heavy pair of legs today. An early double breakfast didn't do much good so I stopped off again after a pitiful 28 miles in ~3hrs 30mins, and decided to go for the nuclear option of chemical stimulants. Namely a cup of warm caffeine - my first coffee of the trip. It worked enough to get me through the next, thankfully flat, 50 miles, worryingly little of which I can remember as I'm lying here desperately trying to stay awake.

Looking forward to a much needed rest day tomorrow here in Ferndale which looks a fantastic little town - just the sort of place I needed to be in after the past couple of days.

The pic is the start of Monday's monster stage, the Mattole Road - 73 miles and 9000ft of climbing lie up that fairly harmless looking bit of tarmac making it easily the toughest day on paper of the whole trip. So I'm signing off to get as much rest as I can for it.

Big day, in many ways bar one

Day 13, Stage 10 - Gold Beach to Prairie Creek Campsite
92 miles in 9hrs 25mins (incl. 1 food stop)
Total distance - 774 miles
Well, my Tourettes is back.

It's been a long, long day!

As I awoke at 7am having got out of the comfiest bed I've been in in a long time (at Ireland's Rustic Lodges) I wasn't best pleased to see the rain dancing in the puddles. Still, it's early, the forecast is good so it'll be burnt off soon, I thought.

So, I set out from Gold Beach, cinnamon bagel in hand, a bit miffed but set for a +90 mile day. Pretty soon the road pointed up into the cloud. I rode up. And it rained. I rode up more. And it rained more, and the visibility got worse (30-50yrds) and it stayed at 3C. After 2 hrs of numerous, wet 200-500ft climbs to viewpoints which my guidebook was raving about but which were today all showing the same shade of grey, I hit real mental low point for the trip. That's when the verbal affliction came back and this time I didn't even have any pain to take my mind off everything. I felt physically great a case of the flesh is willingly but the spirit is weak.

The meteorological and mental gloom continued for the 28 miles into Brooking (I think, I didn't care to look) where I stopped for my first franchise food of the trip in DQ. As I set off again the rain stopped, and a beautifully eerie mist started rising from the ground. Then, I spotted another rainbow fish of Yachats' ilk hung from the porch of a passing house. This one wasn't dancing but, when I looked up, the sun was starting to break through. It would take another 35 miles to do so properly but is was a start and enough to stop the flow of expletives.

I then essentially stumbled on the state line, crossing over from Oregon into California some 10 miles earlier than I had expected. 20 miles of cow-filled fields later I was in, and rapidly out of Crescent City after which the road ramped up sharply into the forest. Then something strange began to happen. It wasn't obvious for the first few hundred feet of climbing, but at around 600ft up I began shrinking, and by 800ft I was three year old again, riding a tiny tricycle through the woods. I was into the land of the giant redwoods, and I felt small. Seeing the size of them I now don't think there is such a thing as tree huggers here, they're just passing hikers who've been caught in the gravitational field of one of these leviathans. While in the forest the sun finally broke through and the road rolled out to glorious sunshine at the top of 700ft cliff overlooking the ocean. A rather hairy descent back to the sea followed - hairy cause at 30 mph it's difficult to tell if it's the shadow of a branch or if it's a large wheel-buckling crack in the road. I continued on through the sunshine and past the Trees of Mystery centre, complete with the not-insignificant wooden sculptures in the pic. Now I can understand the lumberjack, but the sky blue bull? Nope, I don't get it.

I was feeling great, enjoying the sunshine and thinking the stage was basically in the bag. But, it was far from it. As I started on the climb out from Klamath, with 10 miles to go, my engine spluttered to a grinding halt. I was empty, gone, finished. It's known in the cycling world as bonking (don't ask cause I don't know why) and is basically the same as 'hitting the wall' in running, only much more debilitating. Graeme Obree wrote that only a cyclist that's been through it can truly understand just how exhausted you can get on a bike in this situation. And I was there. A couple of bits of red liquorice and the remainder of my Gatorade got me very, very slowly, up the next 4 miles to the top of the Newton B Drury road - a truly stunning descent through the the Redwoods and down into the campsite for the night.

However, things still weren't finished there. Now for an area that's into it's outdoor pursuits you'd have thought that finding freeze-dried camping meals wouldn't be difficult, but every outdoors store I asked in all the way from Coos Bay looked at me rather strangely. Even the ranger in Crescent City couldn't help. But, he assured me there was a shop of some sort down here at the campsite.

Eh, nope. Nowt! If I'd had the energy then the Tourettes would have been back. I didn't.

So, dinner tonight has consisted of; one 330ml bottle of strawberry milk, 2 bits of red liquorice and half a pack of ham jerky. All told about some 500 calories vs the 7000 or so I burnt today. I'm seriously contemplating trying to tap a redwood for some sap.

Thankfully it's only a short 69 mile day tomorrow into Ferndale, my base camp for the +9000 ft day that is the Mattole Monster. However, I'll need to find food fast in the morning.

No signal here of any sort so will post this tomorrow when I find a motel with free WiFi that I can linger outside of.

On that topic, for those of you who've called/texted me in the past few days, I've been stuck on some phone network (Edge Wireless) since Tuesday that doesn't let me make calls or send texts. I not ignoring you.

Off to bed now, hungry.

Jetty cats pic

The Jetty Cats of Gold Beach

Day 12, Stage 9 - Coos Bay to Gold Beach
85 miles, 7hrs 55 mins (incl 2 food stops and countless photo/admiring the view stops)
Total distance covered - 682 miles
So, can one actually get bored of rounding headlands and seeing yet another seemingly endless beach with the waves crashing against a battalion of rocky outcrops?

Nope, not yet!

Well, today turned out to be by far the easiest day's cycling so-far as I very quickly found myself 35 miles in before I'd really woken up. The real key, I think, was that nothing was really hurt that much. Sure my left knee, buttocks and palms were all uncomfortable, and my legs are by no means feeling fresh, but relative to how I have been feeling on all the other stages I felt great. This continued through the impressive seascapes in Bandon and Port Oxford, with the biggest problem being the skip button on my headphones not working properly - I didn't realise I had so many Neil Diamond songs on my iPod.

The pic (in the next entry) is of some ferrel cats that are actually one of Gold Beach's tourist attractions. I'd actually been looking forward to seeing them all day.

I'm now getting into a bit of a routine, so here's what an average day looks for me

7.30am - Wake up, shower, repack kit
8.30am - Set off
8.35am - Find nearest garage and fill up Camelbak with 3 liters of Gatorade
11.30am - Stop for enormous amounts of food
5pm - Arrive at destination; check in, stretch, shower, have coughing fit
6.30pm - Out to find dinner
8pm - Watch Weather Channel, write blog, check out route & highlights for next day
9pm - Bed

As I said on Sunday, it ain't no holiday.

Last night in Oregon tonight as crossing into California tomorrow, into the land of the giant redwoods.

Breakfast of Champions, or Fat Boys

Day 11- Rest Day
Alas it didn't turn out to strictly be a rest day today as I had to take the bike a couple of miles up the road to North Bend to get the rear wheel rebuilt by the very helpful folk at Moe's Bike shop. However, those 5 miles confirmed to me both just how stuffed I am and also, even if I wasn't, then just how little there was to see in this town - basically think Dundee and you're not far off. So a day of much resting, laundry and excessive eating ensued. Speaking of copious consumption, this pic was from earlier in the trip, in the Sunflour cafe across the road from Wayne & Stacey's in Seattle. While I didn't quite manage it all that day, it shows the sort of quantity that's now a daily occurrence for me.

Wifi in the motel stuffed hence I'll likely not be able to post this til I set off to Gold Beach tomorrow. Edging even closer to California, and the monster day on the Mattole Road.