Southern to Northern Washington

Yep...it's been awhile...but we've been up in the Cascade Mountains, and there just isn't any reception up there! (See #128 Camping from the website "Stuff White People Like").
... Lots of things! Lots of things to write!

So, we'll bring you up-to-date past to present. Don't try to read this all in one sitting... you're eyes might roll up in your head.

FT. LEWIS TO TACOMA

Never. Again.
Good riddance, Ft. Lewis.
I'm sure there are people who know how to get around/enter/leave this 25 square mile Army-Air Force base without circling endlessly... but WE are not those people. And we didn't find any of those people. We decided Monday to try to meet up with one of David's HS friends, Joshua (Hey Josh!). Problem was, Josh was working until an indiscriminate time, and couldn't sponsor us into the base until he got off.

Even better, Google has no idea how things work inside the base because it's classified information...so... yeah. Just go ahead and TRY to take a left on that non-existent road, Mr. Google. Mmm-hmm...didn't work, did it? Ok, now why don't you try to go AAAAAAALL the way around and enter through one of the gates, like you suggest. Oh, they'll shoot you if you enter without a sponsor? Oh, I'm sorry that you went 10 miles out of your way... maybe you could...oh, no, that wouldn't work either, would it?

Josh didn't know when he got off work...it could be as early as 5. We got in at 2:30, went to a coffee shop, and waited. Coffee shop closed at 8. We left, biked aimlessly until it was pitch black outside (9:45), and then decided our worst option was continuing to try to find a way into base in the dark (I am like a ninja on my bike...all in black). So, we camped out on the corner of nothing and nothing, and waited. and waited. It was cold. I was wrapped in our Amtrak blanket and looked like a giant burrito. Intermittently, David's tire and my tire were losing air.

At 11:15, a car stopped by and asked if we needed any help...a ride...a place to stay...a truck to carry the bikes somewhere. But, this was the exact time Josh called to say he was off, and was locating a truck to pick us up. I thanked the car, and waved them on. At 11:30, Josh called to say he couldn't find a truck. At THAT moment, the same car drove back... with freshly boiled water in travel mugs, and a basket of hot chocolate/cider/tea options. "We saw you shivering... we figured we could at least bring you something to warm you while you waited". Holy cow. They CAME BACK after I waved them on. Not only that, they went and got their truck, drove us to the base, went with Josh to get a pass to be sponsored through... then waited for ANOTHER pass after the one we had wasn't adequate... it was past 12:45am before Eric and Stephanie were able to go home. They were going to help us if it was the last thing they did...The Heiber's--Eric, Justine, and Stephanie... make the book as some of the most kind and helpful people I've ever met.

What we DID experience inside the base was fun... staying up until 2 chatting with Josh and his wife, Jackie (who'll be having a baby in September!)... eating at "The Homestead", getting a late start to riding, and just generally enjoying being...somewhere not on a corner.

All in all, entering and leaving Ft. Lewis, David and I added at least 40 miles to the trip. Leaving, we circled on the same Goodwill...I kid you not...FIVE times (over the spanse of 4 hours). Disheartening? Yes...especially when we were trying to make it to Seattle.
BUT.
(...isn't there always a BUT)... because we couldn't make it out of Ft. Labyrinth, we ended up on Todd and Hannah Morr's doorstep. I forgot how much I love their family--with the addition of a baby who has serious Zoolander hair. Their 1 1/2 yr old, Olivia, was such a ball of joy...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmk, so I understand why Mom and Dad want grandkids. 'Cause...I kinda want a little Olivia too. Alissa? Get on that, will you? Hannah's mom was visiting; obviously loving being there, being a grandma and mom, and loving us in the process. She made us breakfast in the morning and chatted with us about life. I was thankful we were there at the same time she was. Speaking of grandparents...I got to see the work my Grandpa did in the basement of the Morr's! Excellent!

Even more (ah ah ah... even Morr...I kill myself), it was the first time David has really sat down with Todd and Hannah, and heard about their ministry. In the process of talking with them, we realized that our church in Chicago HAS to have connections to Soma and Acts 29. Guess what? I emailed our pastor, and it does! Todd passionately laid out how missional communities express what we're biblically called to in practical ways. Our church in Chicago has started training people to start their own missional communities, and we are praying that we can be a part of that when we get back.

Tacoma was a huge surprise for me. For some reason, I had it in my head that it was... dirty? Run down? Not so. I think, that of all the cities we've been to, Tacoma is among my favorites. It's Peoria on steroids... on the Puget Sound. Clean, but gritty. Old and new. Dad, you'd like Tacoma. I think I even like Tacoma better than Seattle... David and I had a 'date' for under $10. We split a Subway footlong, grabbed a pint of ice-cream, mouse-trapped it to my pannier rack, and rode down the steepest, bumpiest hill ever. I hear "HONK HONK", turn around, and see our grocery bag and napkins everywhere...the ice cream had bumped off the rack. Thankfully, (because who likes to lose their ice-cream?), the pint was un-affected. We rode to Tacoma's Old Town, and ate ice cream over-looking the Sound. Pretty fun.

SEATTLE TO SEDRO-WOOLEY
Not unusually, our time in Seattle centered around food. We realized we hadn't had seafood on the coast , and we tried to remedy that once we made it to Seattle. Although we missed out on the fish-tossing at Pike's Place market, we went down to the Piers and had some Fish + Chips, chowder and...ice cream (I know... not seafood...). Mmmm mmm. Afterwards, we climbed some San-Fran sized hills up to David Monk's place on Capitol Hill. We found David on warmshowers.org... again, just a really great experience. While we waited for him outside of the condo, David was able to fix our bikes... I worked on the Ft. Lewis part of the blog, and we were ready-set by the time he got home. We'll have to upload the views from his condo... you can see the expanse of downtown Seattle, the Space Needle, and the Sound (that's a lot of S's). Pretty stinking cool.

Nimrod Gil had told us about a restaurant on the Pier where they give you an apron and hammer, and dump a pile of seafood on the table in front of you. This sounded like the kind of experience we were looking for, so we rode back down the giant hill with D. Monk, passed the original Starbucks, and landed in our seats, aprons on and hammers poised. David's friend, Aaron, another bicyclist, also showed up for dinner. In the middle of talking about why we believe the Bible is true, and why Aaron doesn't, I CRUNCHED down on some grit in a clam. Is this a sign to shut up? Seriously hurt my tooth...but there's probably no better way to crack a tooth than eating seafood in Seattle. I wondered for a few days whether or not I should see a dentist, but the sensitivity has gone down, and I think I'm ok. Thenagain, I broke my arm a couple years ago and thought I was fine...probably not the best judge. We climbed back up the David's house, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Dave said he'd like to show us to the path that was on our Google-map instructions (THANK YOU). It was about 4 miles away. 40 miles later, Dave was still riding with us. "I don't have class until 4:00, so I'll just keep my eye on the time"...he turned around at 42 miles, which means he rode 84 miles that day. And then went to his Grad class. We rode about 92, but still... seriously! A random 84 mile bike ride? He didn't pack a lunch, but we had plenty to share...and the riding was great... just...crazy him!

We've decided not to trust when people tell us that camping is free. It's not. ever. Just after we had set up our tent in the "free" campsite in Sedro-Wooley (where we could FINALLY...450 miles later switch from da Google to da Adventure Cycling), when a man came to collect $10. $10 could buy Birthday ice cream at DQ...and then some. So, we packed up a tent, found Senora, who was ok with us setting up a tent in her yard, and bought some Birthday ice cream.

I'm going to save the rest of the last couple days for another post... hopefully can finish soon... I've just been typing for two hours and am bored of myself.

Yesterday was a day of many firsts for us.

It was the first day we rode in the rain.

At mile 15, it was the day David got and patched his first flat tire. It was cute; he pulled out the patch kit, I made some sandwiches, and 15 minutes later we were on our way.

At mile 40, two miles after lunch, I got my first flat tire. Not so cute. I think if memory serves correctly, it happened in 'Unfriendly, WA'. (Which, sidenote, did you know there is a town called 'Cape Disappointment, WA'?) Really though, the town was 'Castlerock', and my flat happened in front of Castlerock High School, where the football + cheerleading teams were having a car wash (yep, in the rain).
Now, I know... two bikers with their bike-dork gear on... we look like we have everything under control. Bikes turned over, gear scattered everywhere, bags open, a guy stooped over a crestfallen bicycle. yep. We were in the parking lot for an hour and a half. The patch wouldn't hold, and after the third patch I said, "forget it... this is why we have spare inner tubes. Throw that sucker in the bag, and we'll fix it later". So we did.
Unfortunately, after we loaded all the gear back on the bikes and started riding ten feet, I had my first 'second flat'. David forgot to sweep the tire, and there was a giant shard of glass lodged in the rubber. Drat! The patch kit reemerged. Now we were located on a speed bump, which meant every single car that passed had to slow down, look at us, and keep driving. Never so much as a, "got it under control?" out the window.
I know, what a whiner, right? David had it under control anyway.

It was the first night we got rained on. Nothin' says 'good morning' like soggy socks.

But you know what DID make me smile yesterday? In the morning, we left St. Helen's, Oregon and passed by their incredibly cheesy mountain fountain in the town center... AND IT EXPLODED WATER EVERYWHERE. mmm. Yep, thought about that winner a little while we were changing tires.

Also, riding through forests with perfectly lined trees.
And forests where all the trees were mossy and started their branches 30 ft up the trunk.
And camping out in someone's side-yard, cooking a healthy dinner of ramen, cheez-its, oranges, and coco wheats.
And riding through where Lewis and Clark explored.
And crossing the Columbia river via a mile-and-a-half long bridge.

So that was yesterday.

Today after about 20 miles, we said, 'forget Google'. We were on a state route, and there was a giant sign that said TACOMA, WA 50 miles. And we thought, "Really? We can just stay on this one road and get where we want to?" ...or we could follow Google's two-hundred steps to get there... Ok, yeah. No thanks. That was a good choice.

We talked to each other about what great Dads we have, and then we called them. I told mine we hadn't been dumped on yet... then we got dumped on. But you know, it was actually kinda fun today for some reason. We have rain gear, and I think we were both thinking, "this is just too ridiculous to not laugh about". Plus, the wet weather has brought out more slugs than I've ever seen in my life. I was picking them off our tarp as we put away the tent, and David was finding them in our bags throughout the day. I don't know why I get a kick out of slugs. I immediately think how slimy they are, and then that if I were a bird I would probably love Washington.

Sorry, I know this is dragging on and on, but I have to share one more thing. I did it. I ate a 'double down' today. So did David. If you don't know what that is, look it up. Why did we eat this grotesque (defined as: distorted/unnatural in shape or size; abnormal and hideous) product? Because we're biking gajillions of miles and we can. Probably wouldn't do again...a regular piece of fried chicken will do just fine.

We love you all. Seattle tomorrow.

Portland...and riding (get it...writing? bahahaaaaaa)

And we’re off! (Again).

We haven’t fallen off the planet, but we haven’t been riding either… so I didn’t know really what to write. We’re on the road now, and my brain’s been turning.

Last day in Portland… some observations.
1. My mother would hate it here. It’s cold. And wet. They say if you don’t like the weather, wait 5 minutes…except that the variations every 5 minutes include: Overcast. Rainy. Downpour. Drizzly. Rainbowy (others call this partly sunny…but partly sunny is apparently objective).
2. I think they drink something different here… there seems to be an alternate universe that includes Portland, and maybe some of the areas around Portland. Now, I’m not saying it’s bad. I am saying it’s Alien. Maybe “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” Alien. Or… ‘Alien v Predator’.
3. It’s dang pretty. Reeeeeeeeeeeal dang pretty. I think this is why ‘normal’ people deal with BodySnatchers and Suicide Weather. Cause really, honestly, there ain’t no other reason I see. But GOODNESS SAKES the terrain! The mountains! Portland! The Rivers!

All that said, there are some sah-weet things around here too… We’ve recently discovered McMenamins (http://www.mcmenamins.com)…which…pretty much encapsulates my dream business. This company takes old schools, theatres, lodges, hotels, clubs, etc, and hires local artists and architects to completely renovate them. They turn cool old buildings into pubs and restaurants with microbreweries, theatres that play old or newly-old movies (central-illonisians think Apollo Theatre meets $3 theatre), and hotels. Really friggin cool. One pub/brewery/theatre is right down the street from Nimrod’s work… we went there last night and savored some delicious food and micro-brews.

NimrodandAlexis Gil also drove us up to Mt. Hood… the same stray biker that told us about McMenamins enumerated all the reasons we should visit Bagby Hot Springs and Timberline Lodge. The hot springs…we didn’t make it to (apparently old hollowed out redwoods that fill with hot spring water), but we did make it to Timberline. I guess the lodge was part of the Works Progress Administration in the late 30’s… they hired a bunch of local artists to do onsite weaving, sewing, carving, furniture-making and iron-working while they were ‘out of work’ (?more so than usual?) during the war/depression. Much of the art is still at the lodge. Question: it surprises me that the government made up a bunch of pretend jobs for artists in the middle of a giant war, and also in the midst of the GREAT DEPRESSION. Seriously, is this a priority? We’re kind of in the middle of a war/depression now so…this is a priority now, right? If so, where can I sign up to make rugs and paintings in the mountains…and get paid?
I made it obvious we weren’t planning on staying overnight, but asked if we could see a room (the lodge still operates as a lodge). The guy gave us the keys to the room FDR stayed in when he dedicated Timberline to… umm…?

The Gil’s (N+A) are fantastic cooks. Seriously. Crème Brulee? Egg Rolls? Schwarma? (surely you must know of my love for schwarma). We ate and laughed heartily with the Gil’s. They showed us the good parts of Portland (you know… that parts that make you think, “If it weren’t cold, rainy, and full of BodySnatchers, this would be a pretty dang cool place to live”) and then makes you forget about the 'nother stuff. One such place was Hawthorne. Also, Downtown Portland. Downtown Portland makes you wonder why every other city in America feels so dirty, and also how they can pay for their public transportation. $2 to ride all day... on the honor system? If you say so! (We paid our $2, don't worry). But seriously... how? This $2 covers any train or bus.

We went to the “largest independent bookstore in America” called Powell’s. We unfortunately mailed back all our reading material and are finding that there are days that we get done early and don’t have anything to do but go to sleep (which IS a valuable thing). Mostly because it was $4.00, and despite the presence of both Zen and Motorcycle Maintenance in the title, I bought Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance for the trip. Why? Well, it’s about a dad and his son riding the same route we’re riding across America on a motorcycle (and all the things they see and think about along the way). Also, they teach it at Whitney Young (the school where I student taught).
One-and-a-half pages in, we hit this nugget… which pretty perfectly describes what you feel when you’re riding your bike:

“You see things vacationing on a motorcycle in a way that is completely different from any other. In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.

On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re IN the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming. The concrete whizzing by five inches below your foot is the real thing, the same stuff you walk on, it’s right there, so blurred you can’t focus on it, yet you can put your foot down and touch it anytime, and the whole thing, the whole experience, is never removed from immediate consciousness.”

So we’re riding again, and I’m reminded that I AM loving riding my bike. Unfortunately, we don’t have any Adventure Cycling maps for the next 280 miles, so we've printed Google’s ‘flawless’ bike directions. It’s not been terrible, just…interesting. Stay on street. Get off street for 75 ft. Get back on street. Eeeeeeh. We’re hoping to be in Tacoma soon, maybe see Todd and Hannah Morr…hit a friend of David’s near Seattle, and start heading East. A guy at the bike shop we went to in Portland seems to have some interesting ideas about handlebar and seat positions. So far -- working out for my butt… notsomuch working out for David’s. Poor David. He was pretty sick this week, but seems to be doing better. Except for the butt.

By the way… we’ve been taking lots of pictures, but unfortunately, recently switched the camera to RAW files, which Flickr no-likey. Large fight ensued, Kristen lost. I’ll try again soon.

Sleep well, all. Have a happy day today/tomorrow.

More days.

I think David just had the worst night of his life.

I’m not sure either of us FULLY considered the implications of checking all our clothes until 15 min. after the train pulled out of the station. I’m wondering if Amtrak keeps the temp hovering around 30 degrees to keep travelers sedated (you know…like flies…or lizards).

Have you ever read the kids books Fortunately/Unfortunately? “Fortunately my mom bought me a snake; unfortunately he ate a cat. Fortunately the cat wasn’t mine; unfortunately it was my sister’s”…etc.

Well, fortunately, I’m always cold, so I packed two shirts, leggings, socks, and a scarf. Unfortunately, David was wearing shorts and all the clothes were Kristen-sized. Fortunately, I wasn’t that cold (miracle!) so David could borrow them…unfortunately, David now had a fever. Fortunately, Amtrak sells blankets! Unfortunately, not until 8 am (it was 9:50 pm).

I could keep going, but you’d probably be tired of it. I’m not exactly sure how I slept last night in the strange contorted positions I was in (trying to cover David with my legs), but I DID sleep most of the night… and David didn’t. When I intermittently awoke, David’s body was shaking from cold…teeth chattering… I seriously considered my options:

1. Waking a neighbor that had a suitcase above their head to ask for a shirt, pants, socks…underwear… you know…
2. Opening a suitcase downstairs to ‘borrow’ an article of clothing for a few hours for him + then putting it back later.
3. Asking the conductor to search through all the baggage below the train for our ONE pannier bag with clothing in it…

You get the idea; none of the options were really options. But, I DID think about Aladdin and Robin Hood. I don’t have kids yet, but I think I understand why some people steal.

I covered him with my dress last night (going against my motto that leggings, no matter the opacity, are NOT pants. They were pants last night). Made oatmeal in the morning, bought a blanket, and tucked David in before coming to the café car to typey our lifey. **Which, side-note… I’m getting emails, texts, and facebooks from people letting us know you are following us via the blog. THANK YOU! I thought only my Mom and Dad were reading.

The scenery is gorgeous out the train window… like something you see out of Adventure magazine. I’m glad we’re not cycling in the wind right now…but I’m also wishing we weren’t missing this on our bikes.

So, we left you off at Half-Moon Bay, right? The next morning we woke up, ate the best doughnut EVER, and rode into San Fran, which was a huge surprise for me. New York and Chicago are comparable in that the vibe of the city is similar…art, dirt, hard, old, and vibrant. Similarly, Boston and other east coast cities have the same ‘feel’. San Francisco doesn’t feel like any other city.

San Fran is one of the cleanest, most condensed cities I’ve ever been in. Not too many giant apartment complexes…just a town that feels very ‘toy’. The Painted Ladies + pretty much every other building are all wacky colors, about the same size, clean, with little details that set them apart. They’re all set on comically steep hills. It’s like visiting a real Lego-land. Population? 790,000. All the sights are a short bike ride (over hills) away. Leave the parachute bags at home…we didn’t. The Fisherman’s Wharf, Golden Gate Bridge, Chinatown, Beatniks’ hangouts , North Beach, Jack London’s spots… all are thisclose.

We stayed with Neil and Malka Huffman, whom we know through David’s friend, Yoav, in Chicago. They live in Richmond, which, obviously, is not San Fran… or thisclose to everything else. However, to ride to Richmond from Half-Moon Bay we’d have to take an 80 mile trek through the mountains. Or, we could ride 35 miles into San Fran and then take the train under the bay…so, we took the train. Have you ever seen someone try to get a bike with a trailer onto a train? Yeah, me neither. We looked like monkeys again.

Neil and Malka have a house in the middle of Richmond with a veritable orchard out back. Fig, lemon, orange, and…who knows what other trees grow in their back yard. They work to recycle everything, including watering their garden the “finding the right shower temperature” water. They made a bunch of delicious food for us, told us about spots we needed to go to in Berkeley, San Fran, and Oakland, and basically treated us like their kids. Malka lent me a sweater when she thought I might get cold, and Neil chatted with us about the downfall and potential rebuilding of America. What great, hospitable people. I loved spending the time we had with them, and hope they visit us in Chicago.

Our second day in the Bay area, we took a Napa Valley tour. Most of the other tourists on our “party bus” also didn’t know anything about wine… so we were all in the same boat--starting from scratch. It was fun… we got wine, olive oil, fudge, and cheese samples, breakfast + lunch, and a brief education about wine making and tasting. And, although the bus interior was leather and looked like it could possibly be a Strippermobile on it’s off-days, and although they were pouring strong at the four wineries we visited, everyone remained calm and collected. I’m not sure what I expected from a Napa Valley tour, but I felt like we got a pretty typical experience. Rolling fields of grapes, funny driver, and people wanting to be more sophisticated than they are. There probably are more sophisticated Napa Travelers than people than we had on our trip (ie. serious wine lovers), but probably not at the price we paid.

Lastly, thank you, Michael-bike-shop-friend for transporting our bike boxes twenty blocks last night to the Oakland train station. It wouldn’t have been fun to carry giant cardboard wind-sails on our bikes, and you knew it.

This is a long entry. If you’ve made it to the end, I commend you.

June 7,8,9

Today, on the road, David said something that really summarizes our trip so far. “Without meeting those two guys, this would just be a stretch of road.”

The two guys were just some random bikers…Dean is a rider we met outside of a beach bathroom. He’s got the gig of a life-time as a personal chef in Malibu; and Ronan, a biker RIDING A FIXIE from San Luis Obispo to San Francisco. Into the wind. On a fixie. Over the hills. Insane. And people think WE’RE gluttons for punishment.

What we’re remembering most isn’t the gorgeous California coast; it’s the people we’re meeting along the way. David says, “I’m from a small town. You think that everyone out there is crazy and messed up. It’s amazing to see how many people are kind and welcoming. It’s changing the way I think about people.”

I’m already pretty trusting. I don’t know how badly this trip is messing me up. We’ll probably get home and someone will ask, “Can I deposit a fake check into your bank account?”
“Yeah, that sounds good… here’s my debit card. It’ll make the transaction easier.”

We’re currently camping out right outside of San Fran. The town is another Tremont-esque town called Half-Moon Bay. Chad and January, thank you for letting us camp out in your yard, and for offering us a room, and for chatting to us about life. And thank you, Paul and Noah for being two great Germans we could share a campsite with in Big Sur, and for playing “Warzenschwein” games and sharing cherries.

On a less sentimental note; we headed into town tonight for something from the grocery store, and David ended up taking me to a restaurant called “Spanishtown” for dinner. I’m pretty much loving eating. Everything. I know, probably not a good habit to get into, but I ate pancakes for breakfast, and a giant mash of Mexican for dinner, and I’m NOT thinking about it. And the Ben + Jerry’s ‘Phish food’ in Big Sur? Not thinking about that either. Nope. Can’t make me.

Speaking of eating…can a sandwich make your day? Yes! We were riding from Big Sur to Santa Cruz (great scenery)… and the few things I think about from yesterday are: 1. The strawberry fields…forever. (the air smelled like strawberries; it was magical). 2. The mist/fog. Aaaaaaaaaand the sandwich I ate outside of Moss Landing. Holy. Smokes. THAT sandwich. It was from a café by a giant roadside fruitstand. I thought about that sandwich for the next 20 miles. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Oh! My husband was a hero again yesterday…

We were on a hill, and I heard a loud PING. I thought, “that’s exactly what my Dad’s wheel sounded like when he busted a spoke.” I yelled out, “I think I broke a spoke!” We took a CURSORY look at the wheel and kept riding. About 15 miles and several hills later, we missed the turn onto a bike trail, and found ourselves at the doorstep of Pebble Beach. That’s where I noticed definitely, definitely, for real-uh-huh, my brakes are rubbing. So, right there, David flipped open the netbook, looked up some instructions, and replaced my spoke, which involved removing the rear cassette and everything. What a man.

We stayed with another great couple from warmshowers.org named Michael and Anne. Anne is a school teacher in Santa Cruz (for troubled teenagers), and Michael is a librarian. We didn’t get much of a chance to chat with them, but they DID recommend where to go in Santa Cruz. Fun town, fun downtown… probably wouldn’t live there though. Nutty. Granola nutty, and crazy nutty.

Distracted. David is talking to a friend on the phone about torsos and fire trucks.

Last of all, I’ll leave you with some new made-up words from the trip.
One is Sqwat… as in the Squirrel/rats that sometimes cross our paths. David asks me what distinguishes a Sqwat from a Squirrel. “Oh, they are definitely more squirrel-ratty. I mean, squirrels are way more squirrelly…these are sqwatty.” As you can tell, this trip is helping me become more articulate.

By the way, this writing is more squirrelly than sqwatty. Just thought I’d clarify proper usage.

And the second is Wist… as in, the Wind-mist that we find ourselves in at odd hours of the morning. “Is it raining? I can’t tell what’s going on”, I say. “It’s mist. And wind. It’s different than rain.”

Well, yes. We’re both more articulate, I guess. Or somethin.

Good night, we love you all. Thanks for keeping up-to-date with us.

I think THIS link should work?

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kmrdjanov/

Rest of Day 5/ Day 6 (June 5th + 6th)

I’ve been waking up with Scarlett Johansson lips.

Now, you might think that’s kind of cool, but really…it’s because my lips are burned, and I don’t look like K Mrdjanov. The burn factor’s been pretty low for the amount of time we’ve been outside, but…sunscreen just won’t stay on these puppies, so for now, in the morning, I’m someone else.

Yesterday, we left Pat and George’s around 12/1 and rode just about 40 miles down the road to the next campground in San Simeon. Here, we ran into a bunch of other cyclists (South bound); not many of which were much for conversation. However, someone who WAS much for conversation was our site-mate, Adam and his two kids, Noah and Sasha.

Noah and Sasha were instantly mesmerized by the bikes. “Hey, wanna ride with us?” “Let’s race!” So we did. Three laps around camp… ending with a “I thought you’d be a lot faster.” Ha. This ushered in talks of Transformers, some kind of Pokémon variation, and this War game I’ve never heard of before. A lot of “uh-huhs”, and then, S’more eating. Easy to fake Transformer conversation with a mouth full of delicious. David talked with Adam; he bikes too, and is a believer. He actually prayed with David before we all went to bed. Pretty cool. Definitely Adam’s family was a bright spot…we’re hoping we’ll run into them again in Monterrey.

We were up and out of camp at 6. The ride out of San Simeon was surreal…dense fog that hid the mountains, then revealed them again. Thick, heavy, wet fog. We stopped not far out of town where you could see tens of Elephant Seals barking and wrestling. It took until 9:30 for the sun to burn through the fog. There aren’t too many towns…or even villages between San Simeon and Big Sur, but we stopped at this tiny side stop called “rugged point”. Oh. Wow. From the point, we saw fog rolling off the mountains and into the water. Though it’s a “gas station”, a resort and restaurant, Rugged Point is considered the entryway to Big Sur. Other “villages” along the way were also ridiculously quaint, and impossible to live in. Really? $5 for a box of granola bars?

We rode 75/80 miles today, and every single pedal-stroke was through some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever…ever…. When we get a chance to upload the pictures from today/tomorrow (and figure out how to give a good link), we hope we can share some of the things we saw. Big Sur is an 80 mile stretch, most of which we rode today. Holy. Cow.

On PCH, we heard a waterfall coming down the mountain, and David wanted to stop and check it out. We hopped off our bikes, and to be honest, I was a little skeptical thinking we’d be hiking in our bike-dork shoes for a couple miles, looking at mountain run-off. Buuuut, I was wrong. Back a 1/4 mile off PCH on a strangely marked path was a honesttogoodness waterfall. Worth the walk in the dork-shoes.

We initially planned to take today easy (after the day-of-which-we-will-not-speak), but things were going so well right outside of where we planned to stop today, that we decided to double our miles and make it to Big Sur by tonight. This meant mountains. Lots of mountains. A day of mountains…but… here’s the key…no wind. YAY! So, happily, merrily, we climbed those mountains (although no one said anything about quickly). Today’s stretch was carved into the mountain side. Great views-- very little shoulder for cycling. We made it… and from what we hear we’ve passed the scariest part of the ride between here and SanFran.

Here I insert an astute observation by David… either there are 5 white Mustangs constantly circling back on us, or we saw over 50 WHITE mustangs today, and then many others in various shades. This was a mystery… why so many Mustangs? David’s speculation at the end of the day: rental cars. People not from the west fly out to drive the coast and want to drive…what? A convertible. Or a Mustang. Or a convertible Mustang. This makes sense to me, but maybe there really are just 5 squirrelly, circling white Mustangs out there. That makes sense too.

We rode through Los Padres National Forest today. Their slogan was, “Land of Many Uses”, which I thought ironic because the land is used for…a Forest.

Right outside of Big Sur (the town, not the large 80 mile coastal strip) we ran into a group of stranded German/Swiss cyclists. Busted tire, and the patch wasn’t holding. Dundadaduuuuuuuuuun! David to the rescue! He sprayed some kind of goo into the tire, blew it back up, tested it out, and we were all on our way. What a hero.

After our last grueling climb, we pulled into Big Sur state park, and set our tent up under the redwoods. The showers were magnificently forceful and hot (for only a quarter! OK, fine. I spent two). Unfortunately, David went to make us coffee on the burner, and spilled it all over…him. Ow. Burns of another kind.

We’re camping out in Big Sur for tonight and tomorrow, and plan to hike and take LOTS of pictures… which I hope I can figure out how to share soon.

Thank you all for your prayers… the wind wasn’t a bear today, and we were able to make it way farther than we originally planned.

Photos

Ps. Unedited photos can now be seen at www.flickr.com/photos/kmrdjnov/

Day 4/5: The Blustery day

Day 4…and some of 5:
Whoa. Just…whoa.

One thing I forgot to mention in Day 3’s blog was that early in the morning I was looking at the “extra stuff” on the map and read: “May and September/October are the best months for riding. Note that during the summer, strong winds prevail from NORTH to SOUTH.” Prevailing winds…north…to south. Good thing we’re not riding north up the coast huh?...oh wait.

Part of why the 2 mile hill slayed us was the gale winds blowing directly in our faces…is it fair to have to work to also go downhill? David told me, “don’t read that stuff on the map…you’ll get fixated on it, and won’t be able to ignore it.” Yesterday, neither of us was able to ignore the 32 mph headwind that started at 8:30 am.

Yesterday…was not a day either of us want to willingly repeat.

Hoping to beat the wind early in the day, we ate breakfast early and left D. Schulwitz’s at 7. We were applauding ourselves on getting on the road until we stopped at the grocery to pick up some bread. While I was inside, a bottle of olive oil managed to burst in our lunch box. While David was inside cleaning up the lunchbox, his bike/trailer fell over and managed to burst his camelback. Rivulets of water and oil pooled in the parking lot. We left at 8.

We made it up a mountain with switchbacks (yay for switchbacks!) that eased the climb. David always reminds me to take pictures, so we did, and began our descent…hands on brakes the whole way down. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! And THIS little piggy went whee whee whee all the way to cabbage land, where the violent winds erupted.
Remembering what David said about the ignoring the wind stuff, I put my head down and pedaled. We pedaled at 10 mph. We pedaled up hills at 7 mph. We definitely got good looks at the cabbage fields. And the farm hands. And we also got good looks at other bikers gleefully heading south, waving happily at the “other” weirdos riding north.

Did I mention there was cabbage? Lots of cabbage. Also, lots of roadkill that you just don’t see in Illinois…wild boar with long legs. Rattlesnakes. Lizards. Turtles. Desert deer. I swerve to miss these things, but David? David sometimes just runs right over them. “I killed a lizard back there!” “I just ran over a turtle…but it was dead”. There are times when I look up from pedaling into the wind, and I see my wonderful husband off-roading. I’m still not sure if it’s from trying to stay as close to the edge of the shoulder as possible, or if it’s him being adventurous.

So, there we were, snail crawling. We look like pack-mules at this point, plodding along. What am I thinking about? Here’s a snapshot: “singing, singing, singing, BOAR, pedal pedal, LIZARD, CABBAGE, singing singing singing…wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind”

Noon was in a holeofatown called Guadalupe. We mailed probably about 7 lbs of stuff back to Chicago, checked the wind/weather report, filled up on water, and got back on the road. Outside of Guadalupe, I discovered that I’d ridden about 50 miles with a sugar packet in my shoe.

Besides the wind, the rest of the day was pretty fun. We stopped at a ‘Rock n’ Roll’ diner that was inside two railroad cars…and much later (5:30 pm), we discovered the beautiful town of San Luis Obispo… it’s an old mission town that is just so unbelievably cute. Here, we bought a new Camelback bladder and coasted through the downtown area. We also talked to a man who has ridden the coast six times. Has he ever ridden South to North? “Well, once I rode from Oregon to Washington, but I would never do that again…”

D. Schulwitz reminded us about warmshowers.org, which is a website that lets
touring cyclists find homes that will take them in for the night. We found Pat and George Brown in the directory (they were on our way on the map), and at 7pm…yes, that IS twelve hours later… we pulled into their home. What an unbelievably kind and wonderful couple. They welcomed us in, gave us a bed and a place to shower, MADE US STEAK for dinner (homemade bread, handpicked berries, etc...) and let us into their lives. Really, they are just an unbelievably welcoming and outstanding couple. They told us that if we needed to stay a little later today (Day 5), that we were welcome to even take a lay day here. So… we slept in, ate pancakes, and David talked to George about how to plan the rest of the trip, and… we’ve re-evaluated our riding.

We WILL ride into the wind to San Francisco. From there, we will probably catch an Amtrak to Portland, and head east. Today, it’s noon. We’ll probably head out soon and try to get about 30 miles in today. I want to keep my attitude about the coming days in check, and not despair over headwinds, but enjoy the trip… would you pray for us?

Love you all,
Kristen

Day 3

June 3rd

Well, we started the day pretty merrily; early morning wake-up with breakfast from the camping stove. We rolled out going up and down sizeable hills...sometimes on random bike paths (does a college path through UC Santa Barbara count as a bike path?) and again on the freeway (not as scary now that I know they planned for bikers).

Personally, I thought today's scenery was the most picturesque...it was also pretty challenging. Mountains. We started out toasting our usual pace...until we stopped for lunch, which, although it was only 24 miles from camp seemed just about as far away as our morning camp. Imagine getting on your bike after lunch unknowingly launching the foot of a 2 MILE steep incline (steepest, highest, and longest hill between Santa Barbara and San Fran). At the bottom, already 10 minutes into the ride (incline the whole time) coming around the bend, seeing that mountain as I was already in gear 1 (aka the easiest), I really did feel like I could let go and cry. It seemed insurmountable. David kept me going; Let's just say I am not very excited about the next set of those...and they're coming first thing tomorrow morning. As I sat on my seat, I contemplated all the things I could take out and ship as soon as we got to our next stop...if I got there.

Things were falling off our bikes by the very end, but we are staying with David Schulwitz, a nice gentleman who also toured recently and has opened his home to bicyclists... laundry on site, I took a BATH!, and he made us smoothies! SMOOTHIES! We're sleeping on a blow-up mattress. This is wonderful. Hopefully I sleep better than last night. David's already sleeping, so I need to go pull the laundry and get to bed soon as well.

Beginnings

Day 1/June 1

Well, we got off a little later than planned due to last minute organizing/loading (1). We looked a liiiittle ridiculous leaving Lili’s house (2). Neither of us had fully loaded our bikes with gear…Mine is VERY back-heavy and tipped easily (3), and the BOB trailer sort of tips if you turn too fast or… well, lots of other things. David biffed 5 times throughout the day thanks to the trailer/clipless pedals combo. You who do longer rides, can understand that starting in the late am was not ideal, but having STI shifters that only worked in the rear derailleur (4) wasn’t either, so we launched from Jax Bike Shop at 11 (5) after an inspiring story from one of the staff about the last guy who came through on a trip like ours who had a brother who bailed on him after 4 days and borrowed all his cycling money to get home; penniless, he slept under overpasses, almost starved, and wasn’t remotely on schedule. Thanks, JAX man for the encouragement.

David and I were both surprised at how much Adventure Cycling’s route took us off PCH and onto Beach Bike Paths (6); there was one stretch that seemed unnecessarily “routey” inland until we turned around once we got on the Cruiser path and saw the giant mountain the map had us bypass. Yay Adv Cycling! Anyway, while the beach was beautiful (7) it was s…l…o…w. If anyone thought it would be a little faster riding (me!) they are wrong.

We pulled into Malibu (60 miles later) around 7, as the sun was setting. We were able to locate a park nearby that “did not” have overnight camping. Parenthesis because we slept there…down in a little creek bed that had a dry flood bed. Let’s just say we were both thankful for our sleeping pads and pillows. We DID have a deer run within 10 feet of our camp. No cougars, rattlesnakes or thieves, but unfortunately, also very little sleep. Bodies as well as bikes needed breaking-in, and David has a great bikers burn from today.

1. These pics will be uploaded soon… for now you can pretend the pictures we took in Huntington Beach are from our first few days.
2. Not kidding: we looked like two monkeys first riding bicycles.
3. and took MAJOR arms to pick it back up once it fell down. It handles fine once I’m on it
4.got those fixed…the guy @ the bike shop did it for free while explaining everything…although, he called it a science, so…maybe other bike shop dudes will do these things ‘sciencey’ that take years of practice?
5. Just as a bunch of alpha male riders came in trying to outdude each other.
6. Read “beach cruisers and slow walkers.”
7. took us through Long Beach, LA (favorite part of the day for me: Marina del Ray around the marina), Manhattan beach and Venice.


Day 2/ June 2

Whoo! Early start on the day! 6 am launch. One word for this morning: hills. Lots and lots of hills. Pretty hills. Nasty hills. Malibu, will you never end? 27 miles is a long stretch for any city! Especially with hills! Breakfast (1) ended with us programming our bike computers. Consensus is that my computer is retarded (2). The scenery today was outstanding…bend after bend of mountains meeting the ocean. There was one windy stretch through California fruit/vegetable land. We stopped at a roadside stand and bought some cheap fruit from Roberto. We also used a bathroom in the dirtiest house I’ve ever been in. The strawberries were good though. Today was surprisingly easier than yesterday (yes, hills included). I don’t know if it was just getting used to the weight or what, but today went well. Sore butts.

There was a stretch where the map took us on a freeway, and I absolutely refused to go on it because…there it was… a sign that said “Bicycles Prohibited”…and I have it in my head that freeways equal death for cyclists. But… the only way to our warm shower and campground (albeit a 30 mile back-track and giant loop through the mountains) was on the freeway. There was a poorly marked road that “kind of” dead-ended two ways, that ultimately WAS the bike path on the map. This led to the freeway… which had giant markings “BIKE LANE” and 8 ft of berth. It took us a half hour to decide to try the freeway…we both tipped over like cows while deciding (slow tip, then TONK). I felt dumb. The freeway was rough though…I bonked on energy and crawled up the hills. We stopped once we got on our exit and I was spooning peanut butter out of the tub and drizzling honey into my mouth. Kind of pathetic, really, but what are you going to do?

But… then we got to Carpenteria…beautiful, wonderful, sparkling Carpenteria. Imagine a really small, clean, quaint town (barely larger than Tremont) on the beach with mountains behind it, filled with friendly people, cute shops and a grocery store… We could live here on first impressions. Oh yes, hot showers (which we missed yesterday) and non-rocky campsite. This is it.

1. Gigantinourmous breakfast burritos.
2. At the end of today, who had 30 miles on their computer? Who’s computer read 3mph, then 29, then 14? Oh yes, that was me.