Delicious calories

Food was always a big concern. There were some stretches where food was scarce and sometimes very expensive. We had to make do with our pathetic budget and keep enough calories in us to survive.

Our usual stash of food consists of bread, nutella, nature valley breakfast bars, and clif bars. We ate that for dinner, lunch, and on breaks. Bread was the miracle worker there, because it filled us up and gave us that rocket power to pedal.

If we ran out of food for lunch, McDonald's would rise from the horizon and feed us for a good $4. But McDonald's were rare on the coast. Fast food restaurants were rare in general.

Dinner was a combination of instant boil-in-a-bag rice or pasta. We would usually use alfredo sauce, or in dire times red sauce. The meat of choice was usually SPAM. Delicious SPAM. Sometimes it would be chicken, beef, or--even better--hot dogs. Then we'd jsut mix everything in a big pot and chow down.

We always had to eat a bit more than we were able to handle. We needed to get as much carbs, calories, and protein we could for the next day. We had some arguements because we'd always force Heidi to eat her 4th bowl of food. Oh fun times.

So what are we?

A lot of the time I spent trying to figure out exactly what we were. The common term was bicycle tourist. But of course no one wants to be a tourist so I tried to really get down to the heart of things.

Steven called us bicycle adventurers. That was a bit too romantic for me. I decided on the phrase bicycle travelers.

We weren't realy tourist because we never paid admission for any tourist traps, except that damned sea lion cave that I blame George for. We really didn't have money to spend; we are poor college students to begin with. Looking around was basically all we did. Our clothes were disgusting and everyone gave us, especially me, weird looks when I went into a store. The reason for that was because me eyes were windburned so they always were red. Red eyes... you can figure out what those people thought.

The main goal, well for me after awhile, was to get home. I guess thats when I became just a traveller.

The split

The day started very well, we got up early, ate, and headed out. I had to stop in Fort Bragg to get some cash at the bank and when I came back our trip had changed.

Heidi wanted to go to Yukiah to visit a monastery she had seen years before. That would entail taking a train there because it was about 50 miles east. She decided and got on the train in like 15 minutes, George and I were dumbfounded and had no idea what to do. I tried to figure out a list of things we should give her in case of something but all I could think of was tools. George gave her his multitool.

I didn't stop her because I knew she could take care of herself. She was more able then both George and I combined. She had to go there for a reason that I do not want to talk about so I understood her decision to go. I just wished she gave us a better heads up than 15 minutes. I barely was able to get a hand wave before she left.

George and I rode on, it felt weird with only the two of us. We got to Mendocino State Park to see the best coast I've seen on this trip. I saw that something was eating up George.

We headed up further and he stopped me. He wanted to go back. About 5 miles back there was a highway heading to Yukiah. He was going to go back and try and find Heidi. He was worried about her, I think he thinks it is his fault she left. Well we traded gear really quick on the side of the highway and he was off. We shook hands, looked eachother in the eye. He went back.

So why didn't I go. One of the biggest regret I have with this trip is not doing it solo. But that wasn't the case at this moment. For me heading to Yukiah meant another day away from home. I can't explain it, I really want to get home. It is not the comfort, or the lack of responsibility, I really can't explain it. I need to get back and finish my med school application. I need to get back because I miss my girlfriend dearly.

This trip has brought a lot of light into me. And I feel like I'm finally ready to go back to the real world.

So folks, I'll be home in about 2-3 days. I'll be pushing myself fairly hard to get the miles in to get back home. Only 135 more miles baby and I'll be at home watching the Tour de France.

The climb

Leggett Hill is supposedly the highest hill on the pacific coast route, a wee bit under 2000 ft. The thing is, we had done Mt. Constitution which was 2500 ft. We weren't intimidated at all. Not in the least bit.

It was a good 50 minute climb but the disappointing thing was that there was not viewpoint at the top. George and I hiked up a bit further and still, nothing. We got down that mountain fast and ran right into another hill. Same story, no view point. Boy we had worked hard for nothing.

The rest off the day was on Highway 1. Yeah, that highway. It was so curvy and hilly that it beat us down worse than the big hills. We got to Mackerriker beach really early because it was the shortest day in the book, 40 miles.

We met lots of people that day, Bob, Jeremy, Gordon. They were all cool cats that rode around and we all sat up talking amongst the fire.

It was a good day, well for me.

Adventure!

It was a short day of small tough steep hills. We were all excited for a short day. We, intentionally this time, started a bit later than usual because it was only a 45 miles day. Boy... did we regret that decision.

The day got hot. Oh man did it get hot. I can't even explain how hot it was. For the first time this trip I was worried about our water supply, heat stroke, and atomic sunburn. It was a good thing we stopped at a market for an hour, or two?, to get food and water.

I was worried about water because the camelbacks that George and I had brought started to mold pretty bad. Disgusting too. George tossed his away. I kept mine and while waiting for the day to lose some heat, I decided to clean it. I put toilet paper into the tube, grabbed the bike pump, and shot out some disgusting moldy spit balls. It did the job and I was finally able to use my camelback again.

To make things even worse, I got a flat tire on the side of the highway. I couldn't patch it up so I asked Heidi for a spare tube. Everything fixed, we kept going.

We met Brenden on the road again near this place called Confusion Hill—the equivalent of The Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz. Then we went. We climbed some ridiculous hills and got to the park when we realized... where was Heidi. Then Brenden told us that she had gotten a flat around Confusion Hill. She had sent him off because she said she got everything to fix it. We waited for 20 minutes and she never showed up. George lost a of game of roshambo and he shed all of his packs and went back down the hills to help Heidi—remember it was a 6 mile ride back to Confusion Hill. I waited for an hour, no show. Then it was my turn. I couldn't leave George stuff so I just took all of his packs, strapped them onto my bike, which was already pretty loaded, and headed down the hill. About halfway I saw them coming up. Whew, good thing too because my legs were killing me with all the weight.

At the campsite, George and I went to go swim in the river. It was a nice change of pace and we slept well that night. We had to get up early to beat the heat and we also had a nice 2000 ft. mountain to climb first thing in the morning.

So close

The signs for San Francisco were coming up every 10-20 miles. It made things worse, especially for me. It was about 250 more miles till we got back home. It made me want to get home even quicker, seeing how close it was.

This was the point of the trip where I realized I was basically done. I just wanted to get home. I hate to admit it but I was starting to feel homesick. Those signs didn't help much.

The day's ride was easy, real easy. It was so easy I started to learn French with Coffee Break French podcasts that I downloaded months ago. I figured that I'm on a bicycle for 6 hours a day, I might as well try and pick up a skill while doing it. Believe me, cycling gets old after 3 hours straight.

We took the long scenic route called the Avenue of the Giants. Pretty good stuff but it was not candle to what we saw earlier. We went through that and got to the campsite where we met Josh, Gus, and Brenden again.

Cold cold

Boy it was cold when we got up. We got our things together quick and got the hell out of there.

Nothing much to say about this day. Nothing happened, except those darn cars getting really close. We were riding down Highway 101 and the entrances and exits were crazy. There really is no other way to get down the state.

We got to the campsite and were buying snacks when our old friend Josh came in with a buddy, Gus. We had thought we missed Josh by a few days but he had taken a break too. Gus was an awesome guy too, he lived in the Sunset district just like George and Heidi back in SF. He was heading back home, so maybe we'll be riding with him in the near future.

Oh and the campsite was the worse. It was basically a backyard with a table. Oh and it was right next to the highway.