San Fran to LA: Round 1

Dear blog-readers: my apologies for the lapse in communication!

After hitting San Francisco, we spent 6 days being complete tourists, with our bikes safely locked in the motel room. Time flies when you're bleeding cash, so we soon decided to hit the road Southwards. Day one, we met Felix and Matthias, two German tourists who had just crossed the country and were in the same 'predicament' as us; in that they were ahead of time and now passing time by cycling south. So we joined forces and spent two enjoyable days cycling along with those guys.

Highlights include;
With all the time in the world, we stopped to smell the flowers, pick the strawberries, drink the beers and photograph the lighthouses (all literally).
Day 2:  two Germans,one Englishman and one Australian walk into a campsite... It sounds like a joke, and prove to be pretty funny. A few bottles of wine and beer later, a raccoon ravaged our nuts and we failed to capture it... Matt commanded the Germans: 'Throw the light on it!' Felix promptly threw his torch at the raccoon; it scattered after the critter as we laughed at his literal take on Matt's 'cast some light on the subject' suggestion. A conversation ensued on how one might best catch, prepare and eat a raccoon... But given our 60 mile cycle and relaxed attitudes, we all resolved to hit the hay.

We left the Germans and cycled Southwards towards Monterey. There, we hovered for three whole days in order to see a whale. The first boat trip we both got sea sick but never saw a whale. The second day the nausea was all worth it: two tail-sightings. We didn't quite capture it on film but the memory remains. Awesome.

Three days in Monterey later, we reluctantly hit the highway 1 towards Los Angeles. We spent two nights in Pfeiffer State Park (Big Sur) then hit up San Simeon State park. Basically, nice campsites with coin-operated showers and lovely views of giant Redwoods... Really big trees (!)

From San Simeon, we cycled a mere 26 miles to Morro Bay, sadly parting ways with our first synpathetic English cyclist, Greg (from Liverpool, works in London.) Greg was a legend and we were sorry to leave him, but we'd resolved to spend a decadent overnight in a cheap motel here. We now reside in said cheap motel and enjoy a supermarket dinner. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is on tv so I will leave this brief blog now...

Stay tuned! x

Frisco

Us geeking out at the Ball Game

San Francisco Giants VS Colorado Rockies (We won!)

Seals at Fishermans Wharf, all males chillin' out

Rare pic of both of us, with seals in the background

At Twin Peaks (cold) Top of San Francisco

Disused Lighthouse on the Central Coast

Coppers posing (Californian coastal crimes soar at this moment)

Pick Your Own Strawbs Ratio: Basket: 1, Mouth: 4

One for the Aussies: Bonny Doon!! Prompted a one-person singalong 'We're Gaan to Bonny Doon!

Strawberry Fields Forever (or until your belly aches)

First time using the pan as a cereal bowl (had leftovers in the lunchbox/usual bowl)

Team Germany-UK-AUS: C'mon! (two day tour)

 

Whale!!! Second boat trip we saw one. Worth the seasickness (twice)

Free film festival in Monterey; greeted by the Mayor, talking sustainable fishing

Obligatory English Pub visit & pose with guard manequin

Cool mural in Monterey

Striding downhill South of Carmel, Californian Central Coast

Me Tarzan... In Pfeiffer State Park, Big Sur

'Great Ocean Views'...On Highway 1, fog all-round

The Fog broke to reveal..Coast!

Campsite amongst the redwoods

Central Coast, Cali...Reminds us of Cornwall

Lonely Planet: 'Soak up the spectacular scenery on Highway 1'

Coming Soon: Riding San Fran to LA!

... Just when you thought these blogs were over! We've decided to cycle the 500 odd miles down to LA, where we fly out of on the 8th October. Not sure how long we'll stay in San Francisco as this city is expensive! Will be sure to post a few notes and pics from the road southwards in time.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned!

Day 64, Pleasant Valley to SAN FRANCISCO! 44 miles

We woke up and smelled the coffee (Deb had the coffee maker on a timer!) A restful nights' sleep in a comfy bed followed by gourmet breakfast and first-rate company; the perfect start to our last day of our ride! Larry had bought some special carb-packed goodies for our breakfast and it was fantastic to sit chatting with him in the kitchen (when we are usually eating cereal out of plastic lunch boxes in a campsite.)

Deb emerged ready for work and still happy to drive us out to the spot where Larry had collected us yesterday. In fact both Larry and Deb took their respective cars so we could all fit. Once we were on the road, my gratitude for this selfless offer doubled... The 20 mile journey back to where we had left off would have taken us all morning -only to turn around and do it in reverse! Furthermore we were both anxious to get to San Francisco; it felt surreal to be so close to the finish line.

Once Deb, Larry Matt, myself and our bikes were gathered at the spot where Larry had met us with lemonade the day before, Matt realised he had left Cateye odometer at their home. We promised Larry this was no big deal, thanked him and Deb profusely and rode away feeling very fortunate for such epic hospitality.

Our route continued through wine and olive country, before meeting and running parallel to the Interstate towards San Francisco. We were both in high spirits and quickly ate up the 30 odd miles to the ferry wharf at Vallejo. As we waited for the 2pm ferry, a familiar voice called out 'Matt!' -and turned to see Deb rushing towards us with Matts' Cateye in her hand. First impeccable hospitality, then a morning drive back to the middle of a country road, now this. Once again: Above and Beyond!

It felt strange to be at the end of our journey, and we sat in awe as we awaited the ferry to turn into the bay to reveal the Golden Gate Bridge. Past Alcatraz Island, the famous bridge and city skyline came into view; words failed us so we mainly sat ogling and grinning.

From the San Francisco ferry terminal, we rode down to the bay for the obligatory wheel dip in the Pacific. With sand-encrusted tyres, we peddled the 6 miles to the Golden Gate Bridge. While cyling the bridge, we got chatting to a couple with similarly laden bicycles. Dan and Mary had just finished working in the kitchen at a Kayaking Retreat in Northern California. They had no house nor final destination, just their savings from the Seasons' work; their bikes and camping gear. Hearing of our trip, they insisted on joining us onwards to Sausolito so they could buy us a Champagne.

So we found ourselves talking travels and sipping Champagne with two very interesting Adventurers in trendy Sausolito. Champagne turned to beer, and we finally decided to get the ferry back across to the city to find our motel.

If only we hadn't: it was a complete dump. Having locked our bikes in the room, we fled to a nearby diner for a victory dinner. We further avoided our motel by going for coffees at Starbucks but finally had to head to bed. I hesitate to end on a sour note but the truth hurts sometimes: I awoke at 3am with my skin crawling... Bed Bugs! A cruel, painful reminder that you get what you pay for in big cities. I have since upgraded our hotel but am still suffering the itchy red welts of Cheapness.

Day 63, Folsom to Pleasant Valley, 73 miles

This morning we had an unexpected surprise; a call from Larry - the cyclist whom we had met way back on the Katy Trail. We had met Larry in Missouri, just days after his riding partner had quit, leaving Larry to cycle onwards to Yorktown solo. At the time, Larry had given us his contact details and offered to put us up for once we neared San Fransisco. As such, Matt had texted him last night.

Larry now called to invite us for dinner and to stay the night. Moreover, Larry was willing to collect us and our bikes from the road in the evening and drive us to his home (which was 20 miles off our route.) Talk about 'Above and Beyond' the call of duty! Humbled, we escaped Folsom down onto Sacramento.

After so many weeks of lonely highways, the high traffic of Sacramento came as a bit of a shock. Add to that a one way system and some confusing directions in our maps and we found ourselves slightly lost. First in Sacramento, then in the following town of Davis. That said, we did consequently get a nice view of the State Capitol building and the University campus in Davis!

By afternoon we had left the suburbs and were surrounded by olive groves and vineyards; a scenic ride through a beautiful corner of the world. In the small town of Winters, we encountered more 'cyclist unity' when we asked for directions to the nearest water fountain. The guy on his bike scratched his head and replied 'I don't think there is one -but you can buy a big bottle of water in the store for a dollar; you need a dollar?' -and promptly plucked a note from his wallet. Of course we didn't take his buck but we appreciated the kind gesture.

Speaking of kindness, by 5:30 we were greeted on the road by Larry in his SUV. He had swapped his cycling lycras for civilian clothes, but still sported the extreme cycling shorts and socks tan-lines we also bear. Larry is a genuine and extremely generous guy, he said he viewed this as an opportunity to repay for the kindness of strangers he had encountered on his own Trans-Am ride. For example, the time he was greeted with an ice cold drink - and so Larry presented us with lemonade and ice from his car. This was the first of countless considerate gestures - Larry has certainly restored the the balance  for the kindness he encountered on the road.

Drinks in hand, we cruised in comfort to Larrys' home in the San Fran suburb of Martinez. When we arrived we met Larry's partner Deb and room mate, Joan. We were made to feel at home and spoiled with showers, fresh towels and washing machine at our disposal (much to its' regret, I suspect!) The ladies of the house had prepared a lavish dinner-party style spread for us. Joan works in the wine industry and so we also enjoyed the best quaff we've had in the US!

After months of camp cooking and fast food, we felt like Royalty as we languished over dinner and compared trip notes with Larry and Deb. Deb was a selfless 'SAG' driver for Larrys' rides (we think this stands for Support And Gear.) So she also knew many of the small towns we had cycled through. When we mentioned that we wanted to ride back out to where Larry had collected us from tomorrow (so we had cycled every inch of our Trans-America trip) -Deb insisted on driving us and our bikes there in the morning. With the same humbling generosity of her partner, Deb insisted on sacrificing her Friday morning for our benefit -even though she had a work meeting straight afterwards.

Larry was pleased to serve us a brownie laden with ice-cream for desert; another gesture he had appreciated on the road and now wanted to share with us. Having tucked into desert, we finally tucked into the comfortable air-mattress in the living room; feeling warm and fuzzy from all the food, wine and kindness.

Day 62, Kit Carson Campground to Folsom, 106 miles

This morning we hit our last big climb of this West-bound journey; Carsons Pass. The park ranger informed us that the pass was named after Kit Carson, who lead 5,000 sheep over these mountains, assisted by Native Americans. At several points throughout our 10 mile climb, we thought of Kit and were grateful to be sheep-less. When we finally reached the summit, Matt was quite emotional - people had smilingly told us 'It's all downhill from here to San Francisco!' After pausing to take photos and congratulate ourselves, onwards and downwards we rolled.

Turns out those people had lied to us; mountains are not triangular and there was plenty more uphill! As soon as you lose a few hundred feet, there's an uphill around the corner. By the time we finally rolled down into the foothills, we were both pretty beat and the sun in turn beat down on us. The Foothills are clustered with wineries and vineyards, yet we pressed on past temptation.

After hitting the 100 mile mark, we decided to call it a day, in Folsom. Johnny Cash made this small town famous with his Folsom Prison Blues, and we did pass the Prison -where Prisoners still manufacture licence plates. With a small motel room for our cell, we retired early after such a big ride.

Day 61, Silver Springs to Kit Carsons' Campground, 77 miles

Having star-gazed ourselves to sleep early, we made an early-bird start this morning (on the road for 7:30 am). We had 40 miles under our belts before making it to Carson City for breakfast; coffee and bagels which we chowed down on behind the gas station (we couldn't see any parks around.) We learned from a billboard that Carson City is the capital of Nevada, but didn't do further sight-seeing. Instead we skirted around the new highway bi-pass (that didn't feature on our maps!) Thankfully the city has invested in some fancy new bike paths, which made it fairly easy to leave Carson City.

From the urban sprawl, we descended into the valley and towards California; our ninth and final state of this journey! Where our road crossed the State border, I was underwhelmed by the signage welcoming us to California. I had expected a sign promising beaches and bikinis -instead we reached a meek post with 'California' on the farside and 'Nevada' on the other. Ah well, we still made it!

It was nice to be out of the desert (while not without its' own charm)-and into green farmland, surrounded by the Sierra Nevada mountains. Even knowing that we would have to cycle over those mountains tomorrow didn't stop us from admiring their glory.

Our game-plan was to climb some of Carsons Pass and camp in the park there, so we can tackle the remaining elevation first thing in the morning. After barren Nevada it was great to see tall trees again. The State campsite was vastly different from where we had camped the previous evening; from a warm sandy beach in the desert to a cool forested mountain. In the absence of showers, we splashed down in a very cold mountain stream; bracingly refreshing!

Day 60, Middlegate to Silver Springs, 82 miles

There was nothing much to keep us in Middlegate, so we fled for the desert hills. Matt swears that he could feel that hefty dose of red meat administered by 'the Monster' last night; so he shot up the pass with extra vigour. One of the bar flies last night had informed us that Top Gun had been filmed between Middlegate and Fallon (the town where we were now headed.) Fallon is the training base for Navy Pilots ('You two characters are going to Mirrermar!') So we were pleased to see the sign warning 'Low flying aircraft' and kept our eyes peeled for Mavericks in the sky.

Apart from a few helicopters, the landscape remained consistent; dusty desert and rocky mountains (although no match for the actual Rocky Mountains!) The road stretched out before us and few cars passed by. Unfortunately some head and cross winds slowed us down, but we both pushed onwards with 'Highway to the Dangerzone' aptly ringing in our minds' ear.

Approaching Fallon, we passed the Air Base which was abuzz with aircraft (although nothing quite as aggressive/impressive as we were hoping for; once again, reality has failed to match Hollywood.) As is the case with most of the bigger remote towns we've passed, Fallon was underwhelming. We prefer the smaller towns; free of Walmart and fast food. Yet, if you can't beat (the prices)-join em'. While shopping for dinner in that retail emporium, we were stopped by a guy who asked if we were cyclists from England. Turned out he frequently hosts touring cyclists and had recently had the English couple cycling a few days ahead of us; Alex and Jess. Alex had told him about us and this guy wanted to know if we would like to stay with him; come over for dinner or just do our laundry! We were taken back by this generosity (and by how small the world can be sometimes!) However we wanted to get more mileage done, so politely declined and hit the road.

West of Fallon the hills became a little greener. At 80 miles we stopped to camp in the State Park of Silver Springs. The only thing emptier than the park itself was the resevoir within it. Message boards indicated that there is normally fishing and boating here, but the low water level meant that the shower blocks and other facilities were shut for the season. This turned out to be a bonus, as it meant we could camp 'rugged' with the entire park seemingly to ourselves.

Matt built a campfire and we were treated to a lighting show on the horizon as we tucked into tin-foil cooked dinners. The dramatic pink sunset gave way to a brilliantly starry night. With few days left in the desert, we were grateful to finally observe the vivid Milky Way in all its' milkiness.

Day 59, Austin to MIddlegate, 63 miles

I don't remember the details, but lord knows I awoke with a pretty smashed-up big toe. It seems I can cycle across the US but walking in flip-flops uphill proves an impossible challenge.  Regardless, we managed to pack up camp before 8:30 am. Shortly thereafter, a broken spoke stopped our exit from Austin. While Matt did a McGuiver job on his front wheel, I walked down to the gas station for lunch supplies. The broken spoke put Matt in a filthy mood , which could only be broken by the promise of a cooked breakfast. So we ditched our usual 'peanut-butter in various guises' for a decadent omlette each, followed by a pancake chaser. As luck would have it, our entrance to the cafe coincided with Alistair and Peters' exit. We were both thankful for the opportunity to soberly thank the guy for yesterday, plus exchange best-wishes for our onwards journey. We hope to chink beer glasses with either or both of the guys in Sydney some time. Alistair laughed and said he'd have to work this trip off before further travels. STill, time flies when you're having fun.

We ate some huge breakfasts and struggled to pedal out of Austin. The landscape was pretty but also pretty repetaative. We hit a lovely, vast valley but the road out of it was long, uphill and plagued with stand-still headwinds.  While we had originally planned on riding all the way to Fallon (111 miles)- the wind convinced us otherwise. A wind-swept 63 miles later, we gratefully pulled into the isolated gas-statin of Middlegate.

Middlegate is an exit sign on the lonely road of US0. A left turn and half a mile later, you find yourself at a saloon surrounded by makeshift buildings and caravans. We bought some cold drinks and were told that the camping was free, so felt obliged to ditch our camp-dinner for some bar meals. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. Outside of the bar, we met with three Harley riders enjoying a few beers after a ride from Fallon. Concerningly, they were headed back to Fallon after whetting their whistles (and the proverbial whistles sounded drenched.)

As we set up camp, a curious chap spoke incoherrently at us, while hammering a nail into the ground. Matt did well at giving the guy ambiguous answers such as 'Oh really?' and 'Yeah, yeah', while I felt reluctant to search out the 'red n white building' of the bath-house. Yet the desire to get clean won out and I set out in search for a wash. Thankfully, Matt swiftly followed.

We headed to the bar for dinner, where Matt ordered their famous 'Middlegate Monster Burger'; finish it and you earn yourself a t-shirt. Needless to say, Matt earned his t-shirt effortlessly. Or rather, nobly, Matt chose a tiny t-shirt for his nephew. This kind of culinary conquest has been on Matts' list of All-American experiences. I think he impressed the unflappable bartender when he polished off an icecream for dessert. When it comes to 'Matt VS Food', my money will always be on Matt.