Since leaving Crescent City, CA on June 12, the ensuing ride has been fairly rural.
Other than the towns of Arcata/Eureka and Ft. Bragg, there just isn't much in the way of 21st Century reminders (other than cars and logging trucks, of course). Camping has been the rule of the evenings. In the mornings I try to exit my tent prior to my co-campers so that they will not have to watch a 62 year-old stiff guy try to gracefully climb out of a small tent. Not a pretty picture, and not painless either.
Most of the campgrounds offer camping areas specifically for hikers/bikers. Cost is $5.00 each, and is a great way to meet-up with other cyclists (I have yet to meet a hiker other than the guy walking the Oregon Coast). Some of the areas set aside for hikers/bikers are quite nice, and spread out enough so that the tents are not on top of one another. Other campsites are clearly an after thought. It is not uncommon that four to eight cyclist share the sites ... makes for interesting conversations and new friends.
Most of the riding along the California Coast, starting just north of Mendocino and running through Bodega Bay, is difficult, to say the least. Generally, the road runs parallel with the coast, maybe 100' to 200' above sea level ... but at every river crossing, the road swings inland and down to sea level, then back up. This is repeated, seemingly every quarter to half mile (exaggeration on my part, no doubt). The bike lanes are often not to be found, so this area is somewhat stressful.
At one particular climb up from a river crossing near Elk, CA., the road levels out at an elevation well above the usual 200'. Prior to getting to the top of the climb there are two switchbacks. The first switchback takes you back away from the ocean and is followed by a second switchback. The inside curve of this second switchback is almost a vertical wall (again, I exaggerate). Talking with other cyclists, it was pointed out that this is the steepest climb on the entire Pacific Coast ride (Seattle to San Diego). The numbers discussed were 17% for 25'. When I saw what lay ahead when approaching this second switchback, the primary thought passing through my mind was "HOLY SHIT!!!!", followed by a liberal stream of sexual and biblical references.
As an aside, a magic road moment occurred once I reached the level road above that nasty climb ... as I rode past a mini-van with Wisconsin plates, a family (mother, father and three kids) were standing next to the van clapping and cheering me on. I smiled and they smiled ... laughter all around.
Yesterday I rode back into urbanization in Fairfax, CA (just north of San Francisco). As I rode, I was stopped by a red light, and I realized that this was the first traffic control light I had encountered since Ft. Bragg (150+/- miles) ... other than Ft. Bragg, the previous town was Eureka (over 400 miles).
I checked into a hotel last night, which is located adjacent to a massive shopping center. While it is nice to have a comfortable bed to sleep in and a wide variety of stores in which to shop, there is much to be said for the simpler pace of life offered by Northern California.
Culture shock ... judging by the looks I got checking into the hotel (after having camped for the last week or so), that shock apparently works both ways.
The tour sounds enchanting so far. On the coast of the Olympic Peninsula, Jack and I encountered some of the same stuff you describe...frequent 200 foot drops to creeks, then back up to a shelf along the coast. In the rain, but enjoyable nonetheless.
ReplyDeleteI'm enjoying your journal.