Nervous...
This city really is so; false, image-obsessed, body beatiful, surgically enhanced, fake tanned and fake whatever else...
...it's quite simply magnificent.
I think I also surprised a fair few other folk on the road. Now, as you may just have realised from my previous posts, I get a bit of a monumental buzz from passing folk out on their road bikes (me, overly competitive? Never.) But to pass a whole group of about ten guys all out in their matching team kit? Surely not. But I did, and they didn't respond. Well one of them tried but, to my amazement, I just dropped him. And they weren't the only ones, there was the group of four after 50 miles - reeled in, passed, left trailing in my wake. But the one I enjoyed the most was the guy out in full time trial gear who zipped past me in a bit of a blur after 20 miles. Now anyone who knows me knows there was absolutely no way that I was going to resist a challenge like that so I set off on a chase like no other going full throttle for the next 10 miles at 20-25 mph, but always just unable to close that final 20 second gap before he turned off. Still, it had been a chase to remember. Although it had cost me another 2 rear wheel spokes.
On the wildlife front, it was dolphins today as after 18 miles I joined Highway 101 and spotted the distinctive dorsal fins of a pod of at least half a dozen or so chasing the fish into the shallows of the breaking waves. Alas, being the highway I was a bit frustrated I couldn't stop to watch them but I suspect I was about the only one of thousands zipping past on the road that even noticed they were there.
After 60 miles I passed the Malibu sign proudly announcing 27 miles of paradise to follow, I beg to differ as the cycling on that stretch was some of the least enjoyable of the trip along a busy road past far too many a parked cars on the shoulder. Or is it parked? Or is it about to pull out? Have they seen me? Nope!
So it was with no small element of delight that I looked to my right after 80 miles and saw the start of a cycle track winding it's way along the beach which I relief. One bit of advice though, when cycling through sand on a path don't even think about trying to turn the handlebars. It all goes comically wrong very quickly. But I was enjoying the ride, so much so I accidentally found myself cycling past tonight's hotel.
Getting here early (3pm) means I get the bonus of getting two full meals to refuel the tank. Meal number one has been a visit to Subway where the current marketing campaign centres around the culinary beast that is a 'footlong' sub sandwich. Well, to add to that today's promotion was buy one get one free (yesterday's was meet the LA Lakers cheerleaders - damn that day delay when I was ill in Ferndale!) Well, I did the bogof promo, sat down, and surprised myself quickly finishing both feet without feeling the slightest bit full. Which left me with plenty of time to fly my kite down on the beach in the weak evening sun.
I was surprised to wake even before my 7.15 alarm and despite yesterday's exertions I felt ok, not great by any means but the 70+ miles day that I thought lay ahead didn't seem as terrifying as they could have. I had plugged various routes into the gps last night in an effort to find the quickest and had settled on the one that looked the shortest. However, the elevation plot for this one was a bit unnerving showing a 2,000ft climb followed by a 1,300ft descent in the first 12 miles. That didn't seem right to me from what I'd seen of the terrain when I'd arrived into Santa Maria and the guy I chatted to in the Starbucks first thing this morning confirmed there was no climb anywhere near that size nearby. Just another on the endless list of gps turd lies I assumed.
So, I set off in the sun under blue skies with no sign of the rain that was forecast for today. My head was down, not mentally but this was going to be a day of just pedalling to get here, not about the sights/photos/food or anything else. It was a bit of a grind out of Santa Maria and, after a while I looked back and saw an ominous darkness on the horizon upwind. The weather front had started it's chase. Seeing it spurred me on faster, but I'm thinking in terms of hours not dash across the car park quick. After a bite to eat at Los Alomos (nope, not that one, but i'll be there at the end of May) I rejoined the freeway to a sign showing 57 miles to Santa B. 8 miles later I was directed off the main road which was 'no bikes' onto a back road. And to my joy, the sign a mile later made it 35 miles to Santa B. The 'back road' was 13 miles shorter than the main road. I didn't try to understand, I was just thankful. So I continued along this route for another 20 or so miles through very pleasant, but-not-worth-photographing scenery.
Then, with just over 15 miles to go and at 800ft the realization began to dawn on me what the gps had been getting at. The elevation profile was in reverse and I was staring a 1,300ft climb in the face. Enter my old friend Tourettes again, though this time there was an air of excitement in my expletives, particularly because I knew that a 2000ft descent lay beyond the peak which I reached some 30 mins and 4 miles later to find today's pic - the best piece of road graffiti I think I've ever seen on my bike.
The descent down was an epic 35 mph 9 mile roller coaster through frighteningly gusty winds on which I only had the one very hairy unplanned off road excursion before cruising into Santa Barbara for the night.
Looking forward to a long but flat day tomorrow on the final leg into LA, and for that matter my very last stint on the pacific coast :(
The morning started early - it always does when camping - to the strangely engaging combination of the calls of birds and elephant seals rousing me at 6.30, easily in time to see the sun's rays emerge from behind the Big Sur mountains and announce the start of another beautiful blue-skied day.
I was feeling good and, as much as the Treebones Resort is expensive, I'd have to say it's worth it. There's a certain air of tranquility about the place that I really needed after too many days clocking up the miles.
After a waffle fest breakfast I finally got on the road at 8.30 and very soon passed a mileage sign. 271 miles to Los Angeles. In three days...can I? Hang on, that's 90+ a day. No, don't think about the big picture, Fraser. I had to repeat to myself. Let's just see how I'm going by midday.
For the first few miles the rolling coastal roads were mine, no really they were as it wasn't until after 5 miles in that the first car passed me. By then I had started on the curves and climbs that the guy at Treebones had kindly told me about. Namely the climbs! But those early climbs were a spectacular way to start the day and got my engine turning nicely - considerably better than my ipod which decided to go on some bizarre skip and pause fest. Still, I didn't really care on a day like this and I soon reached the end of the climbs and took a moment to look back on from where I'd come (see pic).
Following on from the calls this morning, today's marine mammal of choice was very definitely elephant seals as after 25 miles I rounded a corner to see thousands of these gigantic blubbery sausages sunning themselves on the beach. They really are quite weird creatures.
By then it was 11.05, and I knew that if I was going to have any chance of making it to LA by Saturday then I'd have to get some serious miles in. And I did just that. 15.6 miles in the next hour, my best of the trip, followed 15.7 in the next hour. So before I knew it it was 1.15 and I was in Morro Bay eating lunch with 57 miles chalked up. LA in 3 was back on.
But as I climbed out of Morro I heard the a distinctive twang from my rear wheel. It was a spoke giving up. Not disastrous, but the second twang 8 miles later got me more worried. Still, as long as they aren't nearby and on the same side of the wheel I should be ok til at least the end of the day. But they were, so 5 miles later twang number three - same side and adjacent - meant I was in very urgent need of a bike shop. I soon managed to track down Wally's in San Luis Obispo who were great and replaced the casualties there and then. Still, it'll need another full rebuild in LA.
I set off on the final stint down to Guadalupe, which seemed strangely to be getting further away on the GPS. I knew then that today was going to be the day for my first 100. I didn't get there without incident though as at about 95 miles in a little insect got caught up in the vents of my helmet. After half a mile or so of feeling it still crawling around my hair and with it having failed to free itself I decided to give it a poke of encouragement. However, it poked back, and some. Yup, it was a wasp and I was suddenly growing an extra forehead. So, wasps can sting more than once can they? Err, not once they've been caught in a non-existent gap between the California soil and a shimano cycling shoe they can't. Harsh, but.
The mileage finally ticked to a hundred a few miles outside Guadalupe and I felt surprisingly much more proud about it than I thought I would so paused by the side of the non-descript road to take a moment to reflect on the cycling moments in my life, and to take a fair few pics.
So I cruised into Guadalupe, my stop for the night. Or so I thought, but I cruised right through and there wasn't a motel or B&B to be seen anywhere. And to make it worse, my phone was dead so I couldn't search for anywhere. Oh, oh cr@p, was my thoughts. There's nothing down the road for 20 miles. But, hang on, I don't need to go down, I can go across 8 miles to Santa Maria, and to make it better the breeze will be right at my back. I set off, fast and got faster, perhaps with no small bit of anger in my legs, I covered those flat 8 miles in 20 mins - which 100+ miles and almost 10 hours in was a fitting high on which to end this very, very long day.
I awoke early from dreams of bagels (and I mean entire packs, not just one or two) feeling refreshed after yesterday's short day and quickly set off in the direction of my first must see place for the day - the cinnamon bakery. Having stocked up there I set out along the coastal path through Pacific Grove towards the detour that is the 17 mile drive. Now the guidebook I have didn't seem overly impressed by this part of the world so my hopes weren't that high. But I thought I'd try none-the-less.
The guidebook is wrong. It was stunning. Now I'm definitely not one for flowers (as I'm sure any of my ex's will testify) but the carpet of pink blooms along the first mile or so of the path were quite beautiful. Then came the pristine golf courses sculpted through the dunes with picture postcards beach backdrops (gents, I have definitely found the location for our next Mhesa golf outing). Just when I thought it couldn't get better, as I was spinning along the road a vulture decided to join me and cruised along beside me for 200yrds, almost in touching distance. Special.
My main reason for taking this 17 mile detour was that I was particularly keen and excited to see the Pebble Beach golf course, albeit not quite as excited as it must have looked to the line of cars stuck behind me as I cycled past the entrance, cause at that very moment, the drinking tube came off my Camelbak. I rapidly ended up very wet but to those following me it must have looked like I'd lost control of myself.
I then passed through Carmel where I'd hoped to get some breakfast but it seemed the emphasis in that part of the world is Tiffany and Villroy & Bosch stores rather than french toast and pancakes. Still, I had my cinnamon treats to keep me going. So, I rejoined Highway 1 after a 70 mile absence and turned south towards Big Sur.
Having heard so many good things about the San Fran to LA stage of Highway 1, I had so far been largely disappointed so was really hoping that this 'jewel in the crown' of the route would deliver. And boy does it. Cliffs, mountains, beaches and blue skies mixed together in a beautiful collage to produce headland after stunning headland (I lost count of how many there were when I stopped to take today's pic). And lost count of how many times I stopped to take some snaps. And to make it even better, the cycling was relatively flat given the harshness of the terrain (only relatively, though). However, I did get the fastest descent of the trip, a 2.5 mile +40mph swooping stint where I caused some confusion to the driver of the SUV I was politely harassing all the way down and where I clocked my fastest speed of the trip so far - which I'm not putting here cause my mother reads this.
To add to my marine mammal filled day of yesterday I also caught a glimpse of two distinctive sprays of breath from the ocean - porpoises, dolphins, whales, who knows, but after all the looking I've been doing over the past weeks for some sign of something big in the water it was a cheer to finally see it.
So, I finally arrived in the expensive but great little Treebones Resort where I'm paying more for a simple campsite than I did for my motel in Coos Bay. But the view, easily, easily worth it.
The only slight dampener on the day was the guy in reception saying it's the next 12 miles that are by far the most 'curvy' - and not just laterally. Which brings me onto my dilemma. I'm kind of in no-mans-land in terms of getting to L.A. being either three a-bit-too-long or four a-bit-too-short days out. I guess I'll just see how I feel tomorrow but if I can get a +90 day on the clock then three is a definite possibility.
Things hadn't exactly started well. I awoke, after a bad night's sleep due to a combination of noise from the car park outside but more so from the air con being up at +80F to dry my washing for today. And when I awoke it was 9.45am. Oops! Guess I did need my rest. I wasn't exactly able to rush out the door as I first had to replace a couple of spokes that broke yesterday late into the day. Therefore, it wasn't til 11.15 that I finally rolled out of Santa Cruz, hopefully never to return. Getting out the town wasn't easy though as Highway 1 appears to be off-limits to bikes around here so I had to take to following the random 'bike route' signs out of (more like all around) town. Unlike in Washington and particularly Oregon, there doesn't really appear much thought or structure has been put into the Pacific Coast bike route here in California. Some of the 'diversions' are comical, and on dreadful road surfaces and several junctions are totally devoid of direction signs. I kind of get the feeling that it's really all just about keeping the bikes away from the main roads so the traffic keeps flowing rather than planning a good route for bikes. Anyway, I digress. Well, I quickly became, how do I put it, not lost just temporarily unaware of my exact location. This temporary situation continued off and mostly on for the next 25 miles which took me through vast water-sprayed fields of strawberries, the aroma from which was quite superb.
Not being allowed on the main road meant no sign of the food stops I'd been hoping for so it was with no small element of desperation that I pulled off the road at Moss Landing in the hope of finding sustenance. And I was soon delighted I had done, not cause I found food other than the cranberry muffin in my pack, but because I found this sight in the pic of a pier farcically overflowing with sealions. And to add to the sight, there was also at least three of what are my favourite animals, otters, lazily swimming around the bay feasting on whatever they could dredge up. There's actually one of them in the pic in the water a couple of metres beyond the pier near the middle of the shot. I was happy. I stood in the sun watching them for quite some time but, at 1.45, with only 28 miles on the clock, I knew I had to move on. So I reluctantly saddled up and started out through the now endless fields of artichokes, some of them complete with pictures of Miss Artichoke Festival 1947, none other than a certain Norma Jeane Mortenson. Around 35 miles in a great 2-lane cycle path appeared in what seemed the middle of nowhere and I happily shot along it for the next 15 miles successfully avoiding taking out any of the many squirrels and lizards dashing across the path. Then, into Monterey where the path went down to the blue sandy beach and around the harbour. The sun was out, I was hungry, and when I saw the seals sunning themselves on the rocks in the harbour I succumbed to the charm of this town and decided to call an early end to the day.
Looking forward to tomorrow it'll take me along the famous (apparently) 17 Mile Drive including past Pebble Beach Golf Course before disappearing into the depths of Big Sur county where, based on what Mark Beamont said on his round the world trip, I think I'm highly unlikely to get a mobile signal so could be signing off on the blog for a couple of days.
At least my destination for today, Santa Cruz, is memorable. Namely cause it's just so bad it's an absolute must see (maybe I should have listened to you, Sara). Though, I've got to be honest, it's so bad I actually kind of like it.
The first 30 miles out of San Fran were also more memorable. I had contemplated staying on for an extra day but my legs were getting twitchy to get spinning again and when the pneumatic drill started out in the street early this morning I was pleased I was moving on. It was a late start though as I had to replace my rear tyre which was worn to the thread after a mere 1500 or so miles. And the city didn't let me out easily though as every corner I turned seemed to unveil yet another frighteningly steep climb and, as a result, I'd done some 2,000ft of climbing before I'd reached the 20 mile mark at midday. 25 miles in and I passed the site of the legendary Mavericks big wave at Half Moon Bay. Alas, it wasn't breaking - all was quiet - much like the next 50 miles.
Sorry for the short blog but today is the start of a possible six day stint in the saddle so need my rest tonight.
Day 22 - Tourist day
Just back from a hugely impressive tour round this little 'Rock' in the bay. Fabulous place to visit although the seriousness of the setting was comically reduced by the noises coming from the colony of nesting snowy egrets on the island. Beautiful looking birds but definitely worth a google to hear their calls - got to be up there as one of the most ludicrous animal noises going.
...and that's just for starters
