the big aha

I keep waiting for some big epiphany from my 1407-mile bike ride. A lesson from soul searching, a glimpse into the reality of our society, a new guiding principle that will lead me throgh life--something.

But the only thing I learned is that I love riding bikes. Three weeks of ten hours a day pedalling and I can't wait to ride again.

I saw a job advertisement for Google to ride a camera-carrying bicycle around college campuses to help the company track video footage for its website. I could do that, I thought. I'd love to do that, I thought. Think of all the places I could go and how strong my legs would be. Worrying about getting an office with a window would be a story only my dad would tell.

Many people asked me why I rode so far- was it to raise money, bring attention to a serious cause, prove myself after some terrible life crisis. Nope. I just rode my bike because it sounded like fun.

And now that I am home I look at photos from my trip I am amazed I did it. I am also delighted how much fun I had challenging Adrian to games and stopping for mid-day dips in the river. And for me, the big lesson is the bicycles are meant for adults just as much as kids.

Maybe more.

today's ride was harder than i ever imagined

But it's because I didn't know my rear brake was on the wheel.

Yesterday in SLO, adrian left in a rental car after we switched my bike from panniers to the BOB trailer. I knew this morning it was going to be heavier than my previous set up, but I had no idea it would keep me from going faster than 10 on flat roads with a tail wind.

After the major climb up harris grade into Lompoc, I stopped at a bike shop to get help with my derailer making music with my spokes.it was then I learned that I was actually fighting my own brakes and not the weight of the trailer. Oops--and a good reminder to always check the basic components of your bike before each ride.

I ended my ride north of santa barbara at an ocean-front camp spot in refugio. A refreshing ocean swim has me all set for tomorrow's 80 miler.

Big diSURpointment

This trip taught me I am an Oregon snob.

I knew I loved Oregon--I grew up there and often return to visit family, play rugby and now bike. I didn't realize until this trip that I think it's so lovely that I compare all other locations to it.

And ultimately, that is what led to my disappointment with Big Sur. It's like the summer blockbuster movie that everyone tells you about and the trailers look awesome, but by the time you see the movie you leave the theatre thinking, "that's it?"

So many friends told me Big Sur was going to be spectacular. I couldn't wait to see its majestic beauty, tall cliffs, clear blue waters, yet when I finally surmounted the Big Sur climb, I thought, "this is it?"

It happened because any part of my trip following the ride along the coast in Oregon is already one step behind. And also I realized my friends who told me about Big Sur haven't been to Oregon's coast yet. How could they possibly know what a spectacular coastline is supposed to look?

Today we woke up adjacent to the ocean in a lush campground and relaxed this morning as the waves pounded into the shore. The sensation was only second best to the sunset last night which we enjoyed with some fellow cyclists while cherishing locally made organic hemp ale.

We are in big sur. The cliffs are steep and the water is tropical island blue. We've been mentally preparing for the climbs through this route, which have turned out to be far from challenging. The most diffifult aspect has been trying to communicate when the packs of motorcycles fly by.

Today is an easy 40 mile ride. We are in no hurry and that feels great. We'll have plenty of time to walk barefoot in the sand and put our toes in the water. Connecting with nature--something not to be missed.

welcome to santa cruz

And get the fuck out of my way.

Today was different. I woke at the base of a lighthouse to a tranquil sunrise and bunnies in the bushes. And ended my day in an urban camp spot with three vagrants.

But the part of the day that shocked me most was the realization that I am back to southern california. The number of short-tempered, angry and impatient drivers that we saw today easily out numbered redwoods in the forest.

Santa Cruzians--chill the fuck out and embrace all the beauty around you. I felt sadness for these city dwellers too caught up in the hassles of the day to enjoy the moment or their environment. What happens in the transition from north of san francisco to the south of francisco that turns people into the ultimate self-centered, in-a-hurry-all-the-time egotistical humans? Get out of your lexus, take your shoes off and put your toes in the grass. You might enjoy the time, the quiet and the relaxation.

But another part of santa cruz really caught me off guard today. We cycled through acres and acres of strawberry, artichoke and fungi fields. And next to these multi-million dollars homes with people too busy to be humane to other humans, are mostly hispanic field workers bent over for hours upon hours picking fruit for my breakfast.

So many thoughts rushed through my head. Confusion. Amazement. Dismay. How would the field worker feel driving a lexus and enjoying ocean front breakfast for a day? How would that guy who flipped me off from his 6-figure car feel picking strawberries for a day?

And now, here I am in Monterey Bay at an urban camp ground sharing a bench with three homeless people. Part of me worries because the hiker/biker sites aren't meant for homeless and I feel unsafe. Yet where else are they supposed to go? And after what I biked through today how can I sit here and assume I am better? Or cleaner? Or more educated? Or more honest? I wouldn't be any better than the guy in the lexus who can't give me an extra three seconds to get through the stop light.

fun times

We've been experiencing some pretty neato things in the past few days. Unfortunately, we've been out of cell service and couldn't share our thoughts. As I sit here in a grassy cove in front of the beach about 80 miles south of San Francisco, I thought it would be fun to revisit a few of those situations:

1) Rural areas have the best fruit stands. One of my favorite things to do is roll up on a streetside table, grab a box of cherries for 4 bucks, and then continue on my ride. Today we found one with remarkable strawberries.

2) Sheep make great sounds. I was grinding up an incline next to a field of sheep of all ages and they were all talking. Each baa was unique in pitch, length, and depth. The musical result was a joy to my ears--much better than my heavy breathing.

3) Riding on a freeway is as stupid and scary as it sounds. One should never have to cross on a loaded bike a 2-lane freeway exit--twice.

please tell me I can't because then I will

At first, she thought we were day riders--this Denver girl who has bicycle toured the US and SE Asia. We said Mom followed us for a few days and was carrying gear. We suggested that she too let her camping buddy, who traveled by car, help with her bags. "Oh no," said Carrie. "It's an ego thing. I never get separated from my gear."

We told her the next day our caravan leaves us and we are on full gear again, she warned us a brutal day with thousands feet of climbing was next and we should ask for help for one more day.

How dare she? This girl- who won't let her gear go- tells us we aren't strong enough for the next day's ride!

Nothing made us happier than 3 days later when we met again at another campground. "Wow, how did you make it here?" she asked. "I thought you took a day off."

We did.

And the route that took her 3 days took us 2--with all our gear! Boo Yah! How's that for strong legs!

first ride in the rain

We made it 75 miles yesterday with the hardest ride to date. We made it to camp around 7:30 because we figured we'd run into a campground but turns out it was 15 miles farther down the road. In a car, this is a quick drive but after the 3K feet of climbs, this extra 15 miles took and extra 2 hours. We were at a crawl.

But we made it just north of Fort Bragg and today's ride is mostly flat--meaning "rolling" hills that climb no more than 500 feet (think torrey pines hill).

The goal? Have fun and cruise another 65 to 70 miles.

my mom told me i stink

And it's true.

"Didn't you just shower?" She asked. Well yes, she did catch me on a good day because I has just showered, washed my hair and changed into a clean pair of biking shorts.

I am currently biking six to eight hours a day and the only time I would care about my smell is if it would make me bike faster.

Adrian's mom recently washed our biking clothes for us--she didn't mention why she offered but I can only imagine. And while we both handed off every last item we could sacrifice for the day, we couldn't give up the vest. It's essential to maintain proper body temp by regulating the core. And since I only have one vest, it didn't get washed and has been worn night and day straight for ten days.

Yes, it is a little funky now. Mom- I promise I'm clean when I am not playing, it's just that right now that I am too busy being a kid on a bike.

spirits can be broken

I'm not sure if it was the acknowledgment yesterday that we were in pain or just a bad stretch of highway 101, but today challenged our spirits.

We started north of arcata and the fog rolling off the bay was so thick it created rain-like drops on our tent. Spoiled by Oregon's sunny weather, the cold made our joints ache and our feet slow on the cranks. Snot dripped from our noses and dew gathered on our wool sweaters. And then we entered 40 miles of city, traffic-ridden, poor-pavement section of highway 101 that was riddled with freeway exits and on ramps. It sucked dirty bike gears.

The only hope for today's ride was making it to Avenue of the Giants- a 30 mile stretch of easy road through major Redwoods.

The stress of the day wore hard on us. We focused on keeping our feet moving, one turn at a time to keep the bike moving knowing that shortly we'd be rewarded with the best scenic ride throguh the Redwoods.

And we made it. And then we jammed through the ride taking in enormous trees and the beautiful Eel river.

The best two parts were:

1) Nick, a nice Humbolt biker who chatted us up. He said, "I assume when you bike through Napa, you will drink the wine. So when you bike through Humbolt, you should smoke our weed. Would you like some Humbolt?"*

2) When we arrived at camp at Myer's Flat, we ran down to the Eel River to take a dip. Words can not describe how refreshing fresh river water is. We played in the deep current for 15 minutes of pure happiness. I love fresh water.

Today was hard; no bones about it. Tomorrow is our first day off and we need it greatly.

* While I loved Nick's offer, I had to join the 50 percent of bike tourists that decline his gesture.

the games we play

Many people ask us what we talk about all day on our bikes when we cycle 95 miles...for days in a row. Much of what we do is take in the sights. Conversation can be irrelevant when facing such beauty. And then we spend time sharing thoughts on how the sights make us feel.

But for real, we spend hours side by side cycling along highways and have found some fun games to entertain.

One game is the rhyming game. One of us will say a sentence like, "Did you see those birds fly by?" And we both instinctively know that it's a battle of wits to see who can come up with more one-liners that rhyme.

Another game is "could you live there?" This constant conversation piece allows us to pick a home--a mansion built on the cliff overlooking the ocean or a dilapidated home on a lake--to see if the other could live in it. We discover some interesting things about one another and where we see ourselves several years down the road. The options aren't always so obvious and so we embark on a discussion about where we could live and why.

My favorite of recent is the large rig horn blowing game. Taking me back to my childhood, this game requires adrian and I to make a motion with one hand- like we are tugging on the air horn pulley- as big rigs pass by to see if we can get them to honk. We keep track of how many semis pull their horn for us and how many don't. To date, we are at 2-0 record.

As we leave smith river today and pass cresent city, we will climb something like 3000 feet or more. I know we will have plenty of time to add another "W" to that count.And I will probably also be able to tell you the likelihood of adrian and I moving to the Redwoods sometime in our future.

tour de microbrews

Today is our last day in Oregon. We are on Sixes river just south of Langlois. Where's Langlois, you ask? It's nuzzled in between some tree covered mountains and flat farming fields or acres of sheep. It's a town where John can buy tomatoes, beer, milk and some steak--all on his tab at the only local store. It's also the last town where we picked up Oregon microbrews.

I've been mildly disappointed in our ability to snatch a nightly taste of the hoppy drink. I can get corona and St. Pauli Girl anywhere. Give me some locally created bubbly brew. But they have been hard to come by. The first night I got my hands on some MacTarnahan's ale, a favorite for this trip since I once handled their pr.

While we avoided the popular mirrorpond, we enjoyed bridgeport's blue heron. And Rogue's Dead Guy Ale was a treat. But my favorite has been the Cinder Red.
Today we head to crecent city--and CA beers.

long lost love courting me

Oregon wants me back.

This bike ride from portland to san diego is like a reunion between a divorced couple after a couple years apart. When he wants her back, he'll pull out all the stops to impress her and let her know he's changed. He'll don Stetson, trim his beard, iron his flannel, heat the best Hungry Mans for a romantic dinner and more.

Since adrian and I hit the road four days ago, oregon has done the same. It's been 70, sunny, warm. We've seen large lakes shanked by mountainous sand dunes. We've met open, genuine Oregonians just wanting to say, "hi." The birds have been singing and the clear rivers twinkle with memories of my childhood.

I see you Oregon. I know what you are doing giving us this week of magic and pure Oregon beauty.

It's hard to ignore. But one must not forget the other 51 weeks of rain, fog and overcast weather. This week is just a tease and I love it.

just for a day

Yestertday we camped near a couple from Portland. Super nice and out for a night with Cool and the Gang. I didn't think much of them until the morning when they were recounting their night at the casino and Adrian and I were assessing his knee and our pending ride. And then they said something that made me know I was meant to meet them, even if just for the day.

The girl said, "I know what you're going through. One day he and I were hiking the Grand Canyon and I got heat stroke and then he blew out his knee. When you both go down, it gets hard. But you're lucky only one of you is injured because the other can take care. And together you'll make it through."

Oh my goodness, I thought. She's right. And then I offered to switch bikes with Adrian, load up the trailer on that bike and let him have a lighter, easier load for a day.

Two days later, we've figured it out--he's sporting dual knee braces and chugging along at full speed.

Because together we will make it.

thoughts from the saddle

Today was our first day on the road and we traveled approximately 65 miles. Unfortunately my best friend and riding buddy is injured and we could only go about 8 mph for a good portion of the ride. For those of you unfamiliar with cycling, that is like selecting map by walking route on google maps rather than the freeway route- it's slow. So I had a lot of time to think today and wanted to share my thoughts:
1) My face makes a pretty good bug shield.
2) Even if Adrian thinks he's far enough ahead of me to do a snot rocket, the wind will close the gap.
3) The truck scales on the road round to the nearest 50 pounds, so I am always 8 pounds lighter.
4) 8 mph is barely enough to stay upright on my bike loaded with 50 pounds of gear (rounded down to the nearest 50 of course.)
5) The $19.97 fleece shirt I bought to replace the jacket I left at the airport, only cost $19.97 because Oregon doesn't have a sales tax.
6) People live at the wandering spirit rv park so they can be closer to the casino.
7) Hamburger helper doesn't taste any better now than it did when I was in college.
8) Bungee cords double as ace bandages.
9) On salmon highway, the best commerce deal advertised on homemade billboards is buy one get one adult dvds.
10) Adventures are best side by side with my husband-he always brings the fun.

where will it all fit?

We did a test ride weekend to make sure we packed all the right things yet didn't pack more than just the essentials. As the sea of spandex and mountains of tools began spreading across our floor last night as we were packing, I kept wondering if my legs could truly power that through Big Sur. Lucky enough-i think- alaska air had a scale at their check in counter. Turns out Adrian and I think it takes 110 pounds of gear and clothing to bike the Pacific Coast. Some of the priorities: cribbage board, pillow, bottle of vodka and of course a bottle opener.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

What did you put in my kool-aid? I am not normal.

When we camped as a family in the Oregon forests, did you ever think those habits would morph into a bicycling camping trip from Portland, OR, to San Diego, CA? When Bubba and I insisted on sleeping in the tent because the camper was too "plush," did you ever imagine I'd carry those habits...on the back of my bicycle? And when I first told you that I wanted to commute by bike, did you think, "Oh no, what is she really saying?"

My wildest dreams never took me here, but obviously my spirit to tackle a challenge and embrace the outdooors had led the charge. Before I leave on my 22-day ride across 1,393 miles, I wanted to thank you for instilling in me the habit to try new things and the guts to plan things that seem unachievable to others.

Mom--I am about to ride my bicycle along highway 1 from the Pacific NW to the borders of Tijuana. That's freaking rad. I can't wait to see you one week in to tell you how much my legs hurt, how sore my butt is, how happy I am that you gave me the drive to do things that are so outrageous and, most importantly, to have another sip of that fabulous kool-aid.

With much love.

Cycling: natural stress relief

I just finished a ride up to Oceanside and back. I didn't time it, but it probably was about four hours of riding. Four hours of fresh air and ocean views. Four hours of little thinking, no managing, no budgets, no deadlines and no reporting. Four hours of letting my mind wander to things I love and things I just dream about.

My work week sucked the life out of me faster than the auto makers going through their bailout money. I spent every moment trying to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel, but it must be burned out. It's not shining for me to see. But I knew, I had a ride planned Saturday morning and that would be my time. My time to push my pedals as hard as I can or to pull in behind someone and relax in his draft.

Cycling refreshes. It renews my spirit and makes me feel strong. I share the road with riders who compete professionally. Their warm up pace is my sprint. I also share the road with beginners who have not yet experienced the road bike rash, if you get what I'm saying. I fit somewhere in the middle. Soaking up inspiration from those who ride harder and faster and enjoying watching someone learn to love cycling for the first time.

Yes. Riding a bicycle is stress relief. If only I could smash all that into a little injection that I could self administer during long staff meetings.

I can do that

Not!

So many things about this video leave me speechless.

If only my bicycle didn't have a seat.

Our bicycle route from Portland to San Diego

Here it is: the official route we are biking from Portland to San Diego. I'm sure we'll get off track many times as that's part of the fun. And we'll have many side trips that we'll take to get off the Highway 1 or 101, but I don't think we'll know those until we see them.

We start in Portland and will cycle a total of 1393.7 miles--without accounting for any wrong turns. I spoke with a bike mechanic the other day who did this exact ride, and he said it took him 18 days of pedaling with a few days off the saddle. The total trip took him 22 days and he averaged 65 miles a day on the days he cycled. That's what I was planning for until I put together these series of maps. With the route tracked at 1394 miles, I will have to average 77 miles a day to make it in 18 days of biking.

That's hard. Very hard.