George and I rode across the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco on Sunday afternoon, the 17th of May. What a feeling! And what a way to wrap up this incredible adventure we've had together.
Our odometer tells us we biked almost exactly 1200 miles since we left Vancouver, BC, on the 22nd of April. If you take out the days when we were not riding, either because we were with Liz and Duncan, or because of foul weather, we averaged just about 60 miles a day. Slow days were 40. Long days were 80. We didn't break any records, except our own. But I think we absolutely got out of it everything we set out to do. I wanted to see a part of the country that I didn't really know all that well. I wanted to do something adventurous and "out-of-the-box." I wanted to do something physically challenging. I wanted to spend time with George. I accomplished all of that, and I think George pretty much wanted the same things. We had a really great time together.
There are far too many details to share completely here, of course. And it will take me some time to figure out what this experience has really meant for me. I did a pretty good job of journalling every day, even if I couldn't always blog -- sometimes because we didn't have phone and internet service and sometimes because I was just too exhausted.
But I'll take some time to read through my journal -- and, oh yes, see the pictures. I'm sharing a few here. But even as I do, I realize that they capture only small fragments of the experience. They're mostly shots of us standing still, looking at beautiful places. And there were far more of those than we could possibly have taken pictures of or shared here! But, there are no pictures of us screaming down the side of a mountain at 40 miles per hour -- or sweating our way up at 5 or 6. There are no pictures of the 30 mph headwinds and rain that made parts of the journey so interesting. There are no pictures of the smells or sounds, or just the feeling of being in these places. It shows nothing of the interesting people we met along the way, many of them cyclists, too. And there are no pictures that can capture the deep bond of a father and son sharing such an adventure together.
George let me know that this was so much more interesting and enjoyable for him than the coast-to-coast motorcycle trip we made together in 2000. He was only twelve back then, and his role was a pretty passive one much of the time, sitting on the back seat riding. It was long and sometimes boring. But there was very little that was inactive or boring about this trip. It put every fiber of our being to work -- all the time -- physically, emotionally, spiritually. That's always a better recipe for enjoying something completely.
We had the perfect end to our trip spending two days in San Francisco. We were hosted by David Kyle, a young man who grew up in our parish in Topsfield. David is a runner (marathoner, in fact) and a cyclist, too. He's also a very enthusiastic 6th grade social studies teacher at a boys' school in the city, and the founder of Books for South Africa. He was a great host, and it was a lot of fun to reconnect. We ate some great Thai food one night and had homemade pizza (hand thrown, no less) at Dave's house the next. George and I got our bikes packed and shipped home, then did a ferry trip out to Alcatraz. We now know we're both glad not to have been prisoners there -- although I have to say how interesting it was and what a beautiful view of the city it gives. We enjoyed two visits to Ghirardelli Square for ice cream, an art gallery next door, and the overall energy of the city. It was George's first time to be there.
We flew out the next day, he to Richmond and I to Boston, just in time to get home for the tail end of my birthday and my reunion with Carolyn. I hadn't been home since I left for Japan on March 15 -- over two months ago. It was REALLY good to be home!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Time and Money
It would be a lot jazzier to say that George and I were going to cut our trip short because of... I don't know -- swine flu in Mexico, or forest fires in Santa Barbara perhaps. But, yes, we are going to cut it short, and no, those are not the reasons. The reasons are time and money.
We lost almost a week in the beginning, hanging out in Vancouver waiting on George's bike to arrive. Since then, we've had a few rain days when it was just too nasty out to ride. Unfortunately neither the clock nor the cost stopped running when those things happened. And George has to be back to work in Williamsburg on the 20th of May. We won't make it to Mexico by then.
We've also had to face the fact that the budget for this trip has run out. I've always been one to try to squeeze every penny I could out of a dollar. But our budget calculations were off by quite a bit for this trip, it turns out. There haven't been as many $40-$50 motels as I was told there would be. And for some reason, George and I are eating a lot! So, we're spending about 50% more per day than we planned.
As a result of all of this, George and I have decided that we can feel okay about making San Francisco our final destination, at least for now. We have about a week. We're feeling strong. And the weather forecast is pretty decent. We're in Northern California, and we should be able to make it at our current pace of about 60-70 miles a day on average.
I'm tempted to be upset. ("Why do things like time and money have to have so much power over our lives?!"). Another part of me is relieved. (Been having nightmares about climbing Big Sur! -- well, almost). But, I have to admit, as great an adventure as this has been and continues to be, I'm about ready to be home for a while, be with Carolyn, sleep in my own bed -- and yes, not have to climb any more mountains on a bike for a while.
I haven't blogged here for several days, so there are a million little things I haven't shared. Biking the coast of Oregon was an amazing experience. I LOVE OREGON! Just when we thought we had seen "the mother of all coastal Oregon views," the next day we would see something just as or even more gorgeous. The pinnacle just might have been on our last full day in Oregon when we rode through Humbug Mountain State Park along the coast and through the coastal mountains of the park. It didn't hurt that the roads were I, with nice wide margins for bikes -- and that they had been swept of the winter's sand, which was not true everwhere. But the views were absolutely spectacular, from the many rock stacks just off the coast, to the deep blue of the Pacific water, to the wide sandy beaches and rocky cliffs, to the mountain streams and waterfalls making their way into the ocean -- not to speak of the birds and other wildlife speaking to you from the forests -- one surprising thing after another.
I definitely found lots of joy on that ride -- and on so many others,
too, during our ten (or was it eleven?) days in the state. I feel so
lucky to have a daughter and son-in-law now living there (Duncan, of
course, is a native), so I'll definitely have excuses to return!
So, with all of this, how can I possibly be disappointed? Time and
money can't take away that kind of joy.i
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Great day for riding north
But, alas, we're riding south. Strong sustained headwinds of 20-25 mph kept us working hard today. The good news is that the rain that was forecast for today never found us! And, the best part is that we had a spectacularly beautiful ride on the central coast of Oregon. It wouldn't have been nearly so dramatic without all that wind, either. But, wow, are glad we decided to ignore the forecast and ride anyway today, even if we did ride only 25 miles.
When we left our Motel 6 to have breakfast at Pig 'n Pancake early this morning it was miserable -- wet, cold, rainy, and very windy. We pretty much decided after we got back to the motel that we were staying in today. I talked to the desk clerk, and she said "this is December weather here, not May!"
We watched the weather forecast again, checked the internet, looked at our maps for possible stopping places. Just as I was going down to tell the clerk we were staying another night, I looked outside. No rain. And there was even the hint of sun behind one of those clouds. I ran back to tell George. Within about 3 minutes, we were packed and ready to go.
In spite of the wind (didn't someone tell me the wind was always out of the north here? Right. Just like the one who told me if we went north to south it would all be downhill!) it was one of (if not THE) most beautiful day we've had for the raw beauty of nature.
Somewhere along Route 101 between Lincoln City and Newport we came upon a place called Boiler Bay. The water in this area churned like a boiling pot of water. It was powerful. The waves were probably 10-12 feet and breaking out at sea. It was an awesome site to behold. The entire Depoe Bay State Park area was breathtaking. And then we took a little detour off 101 onto the Otter Crest Loop, a small road that stays close to the water, and goes down to one lane plus a bike lane. The views were the perfect combination of coastal rainforest, moss-covered trees, with rocky coast and hard pounding surf. Quintessential Oregon coast, from all I can tell. We noticed a house built high up on a promontory 500 feet above the water. Unbelievable. Our little road took us there, and it turns out it is a little gift shop called The Lookout at Cape Foulweather -- aptly named. But today, the foul weather is far outdone by the spectacular beauty of this place. Someone knew that about this place when they built it in 1930, as a gift shop. It was taken over briefly by the Coast Guard during WWII, but has otherwise been in continuous existence as a gift shop. We have no room for things, so I couldn't buy anything, but someday I'm going to come back here and buy myself one of those Cape Foulweather caps they had there.
I asked the woman minding the shop if she had to pay to work there. She said she should have to. We asked how far it was to Mo's Clam Chowder, and she informed us to our delight that it only about a mile and a half down the road -- all downhill. We had a great lunch at Mo's, then went right outside to see The Devil's Punchbowl. Liz and Duncan had told us it was not to be missed. It is a giant round rock formation, hollowed out, with giant holes at the bottom where the tide forces water into the big bowl. It is a ferociously churning cauldron displaying the contest between water and rock that define this endlessly fascinating coast. We were there at low tide. I'm told it's even more dramatic at high tide.
We rode another eight miles or so into Newport, where we headed straight for Bike Newport. We needed a tire check as well as a couple of other little things. I had the first flat tire of the trip two days ago, and even though the roadside change went flawlessly, I was pretty sure our little hand pump had not gotten me to the 120 lbs. of pressure we're supposed to have. Great shop with very helpful people.
We met two young guys there who left Vancouver a week or two before we did. They're roughing it with camping gear, pots and pans hanging off the bikes, and the bikes are one speed. We felt like a couple of pampered babies after seeing that. We promptly came and checked into our (cheap) motel, after a brief ride through the local beatnik area and past the club where we hear that tonight is jazz night. We put our feet up, checked our email (none) and thought about what a great day it has been.
And we almost missed it all because of a little wind.
When we left our Motel 6 to have breakfast at Pig 'n Pancake early this morning it was miserable -- wet, cold, rainy, and very windy. We pretty much decided after we got back to the motel that we were staying in today. I talked to the desk clerk, and she said "this is December weather here, not May!"
We watched the weather forecast again, checked the internet, looked at our maps for possible stopping places. Just as I was going down to tell the clerk we were staying another night, I looked outside. No rain. And there was even the hint of sun behind one of those clouds. I ran back to tell George. Within about 3 minutes, we were packed and ready to go.
In spite of the wind (didn't someone tell me the wind was always out of the north here? Right. Just like the one who told me if we went north to south it would all be downhill!) it was one of (if not THE) most beautiful day we've had for the raw beauty of nature.
Somewhere along Route 101 between Lincoln City and Newport we came upon a place called Boiler Bay. The water in this area churned like a boiling pot of water. It was powerful. The waves were probably 10-12 feet and breaking out at sea. It was an awesome site to behold. The entire Depoe Bay State Park area was breathtaking. And then we took a little detour off 101 onto the Otter Crest Loop, a small road that stays close to the water, and goes down to one lane plus a bike lane. The views were the perfect combination of coastal rainforest, moss-covered trees, with rocky coast and hard pounding surf. Quintessential Oregon coast, from all I can tell. We noticed a house built high up on a promontory 500 feet above the water. Unbelievable. Our little road took us there, and it turns out it is a little gift shop called The Lookout at Cape Foulweather -- aptly named. But today, the foul weather is far outdone by the spectacular beauty of this place. Someone knew that about this place when they built it in 1930, as a gift shop. It was taken over briefly by the Coast Guard during WWII, but has otherwise been in continuous existence as a gift shop. We have no room for things, so I couldn't buy anything, but someday I'm going to come back here and buy myself one of those Cape Foulweather caps they had there.
I asked the woman minding the shop if she had to pay to work there. She said she should have to. We asked how far it was to Mo's Clam Chowder, and she informed us to our delight that it only about a mile and a half down the road -- all downhill. We had a great lunch at Mo's, then went right outside to see The Devil's Punchbowl. Liz and Duncan had told us it was not to be missed. It is a giant round rock formation, hollowed out, with giant holes at the bottom where the tide forces water into the big bowl. It is a ferociously churning cauldron displaying the contest between water and rock that define this endlessly fascinating coast. We were there at low tide. I'm told it's even more dramatic at high tide.
We rode another eight miles or so into Newport, where we headed straight for Bike Newport. We needed a tire check as well as a couple of other little things. I had the first flat tire of the trip two days ago, and even though the roadside change went flawlessly, I was pretty sure our little hand pump had not gotten me to the 120 lbs. of pressure we're supposed to have. Great shop with very helpful people.
We met two young guys there who left Vancouver a week or two before we did. They're roughing it with camping gear, pots and pans hanging off the bikes, and the bikes are one speed. We felt like a couple of pampered babies after seeing that. We promptly came and checked into our (cheap) motel, after a brief ride through the local beatnik area and past the club where we hear that tonight is jazz night. We put our feet up, checked our email (none) and thought about what a great day it has been.
And we almost missed it all because of a little wind.
Friday, May 1, 2009
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