I stopped for a break in Pacifica and the lady at the visitor's center was very kind and offered local knowledge. I was following my bicycle route on Google and therefore was away from Hwy 1. However, Google maps isn't always nice to you and often it takes you places where you may not wish to go. This was the case with the Pedro Mountain Road Trail in McNee Ranch State Park. The route would take me through this park but basically it was over a mountain. It was not paved at all. It was more of a mountain bike trail or hiking trail if anything. A touring bike like mine would do better with pavement. However, I took the plunge and after many miles in it only made sense to continue forward. It protruded straight up and the trail was very narrow with overhanging bushes and grass hiding parts of the path. Some of the trail was just broken up and I had to walk my bike a lot. However, surprisingly I did ride most of the way up. I saw several hikers as well as some speeding mountain bikers who came out of no where. It was very hot. My skin felt like it was on fire. My legs and ankles probably looked as though I was Hispanic. With a tough challenge comes a splendid reward. This was the case when I reached the summit of Pedro Mountain. I looked over at the ocean view and the scenes around me. It was truly magnificent and I thought to myself, "This is why I do this." Now it was the downward spiral. And truth be told this mountain trail was really a spiral. It was just as crooked if not more so than Leggett hill. Going downward proved to be much more difficult. It wouldn't have been so bad if my bike wasn't loaded down with junk. Riding was out of the question. I had to walk, and not just walk, but it was all I could do to keep my bike from not tumbling down the mountain without me. It was extremely steep - and filled with loose gravel. I must've lost 5 lbs that day alone and gained muscle keeping my bike from falling. My tent, sleeping bag and backpack on the back of my rack kept dislodging themselves. It is a wonder I still had no flat tire. I was checking them constantly. Well --- at last I came to the southern end of the mountain trail where the forest meets the sea and looked back over my shoulder at where I just was a moment ago.
Well, that certainly was an adventure and a half! But now I am back on solid ground. I wanted to kiss it. As I went along, I walked up this path that looked like the bicyclists version of Lombard Street with the crooked switchbacks. After Montara, Moss Beach and El Granada I finally made it to Half-Moon Bay. Keep in mind I haven't slept in 2 days. When I arrived, I was relieved to say the least. It was fairly early in the afternoon, so I laid out my ground sheet, used my tent as a pillow and just collapsed under a tree. The nap felt really good. I did end up setting up my tent and looking out over the marvelous ocean before drifting off to sleepy land.
July 26 (Half-Moon Bay to New Brighton State Beach, 62.50 miles) - You would've thought that as tired as I was from the lack of sleep, I would've had a late start to the day, but once you get in a groove, it's hard to stop. In my defense however, today was fairly flat day than what I have been experiencing. I thought I wouldn't be happy to see Hwy 1 again, but boy was I happy to see it. I have often wondered if I should ever move down here. There's pros and cons to living anywhere I suppose. But the bicycle culture is so vibrant in this area. Ever since I entered San Gregorio, hoards of cyclists came pouring in from the countryside. And I mean the ones with racing bikes and spandex. From San Gregorio to Pescadero, I must've seen a hundred or so cyclists. Most of them were traveling in a group and it looked like they were in training or something...or maybe just a club ride. As I was riding by some, they asked about where I was heading and where I came from, etc. Some even rooted me on as I climbed a hill. This was a scenic route that went away from the main highway. It looked like a popular route for bicyclists. I'm glad I found it. I stopped at an old country store in Pescadero as did many of the other cyclists before heading on my way.
At long last I merged back on Hwy 1 which took me all the way to Davenport where I stopped to refuel and then emerged into Santa Cruz, the first of several large cities. It's always nice to come into a city after being in the country for awhile. I got my first glimpse of California's beach culture. I walked along the famous Santa Cruz Boardwalk and by the crowds of people before arriving at New Brighton on the southern end of the city. There were no other cyclists here and it was a crowded place. There were surfers and other loud Californians and tourists. I kept to myself, charged my phone at the nice covered area, walked to the beach, ate some crackers and sausage and planned the next day.
July 27 (New Brighton to Pfeifer Big Sur State Park, 79.66 miles) - Castroville is the Artichoke Center of the World. It's a small town on the coast and from there all the way to Monterey, 15 miles away there was a nice bike path - passing through Marina and Seaside. It was the Monterey Bay Coastal Trail From here all the way south I have noticed the state of California goes out of their way to provide for and accommodate cyclists. There are paths everywhere. I think it was on this path or the day before that I got a call from Serg, a friend back home who had a question about bikes. He didn't realize I was on a bike trip myself. That was funny.
When I arrived to Monterey, I was looking forward to riding the 17-mile drive along the peninsula. However, what I was unaware was that you have to pay a fee to even enter Monterey. It is a super secret community I suppose. I could've coughed up the money to do so, but I chose not to. It was kind of tricky getting back on the hwy to where I was heading. Confusion set in. When I finally figured it out I passed through Carmel by the Sea and was enamored at the sea. Highway 1 hugged the coastline from here. I saw a sign that had a crooked path on it saying "Next 74 Miles." This was beautiful country, but it sure was curvy and hilly. There was another sign that read, "Hills, Curves next 63 miles." At least they give you a warning!
A few miles before Big Sur, I came to a pull-out rest area to take in the view of the bridge and ocean and rocky cliffs. To my amusement there was a homeless man with a guitar sitting on a rock singing whatever came to his head or that he saw. He had a bunny on top of his head as he sang and another one running around somewhere. He wasn't exactly homeless because he did have a beat-up RV camper that he drove. He asked me where I was headed, then proceeded to say, "Well, I've been looking for someone to smoke a pile of weed with me. Interested?" I don't smoke. "Alrighty, I'm sure there's people in Big Sur that will." I must've been in weed country because it seemed like everyone around here took part...including other cyclists. Speaking of that, I saw Tyler again. He's the young, weed-smoking hippie dude. He rode past me on a uphill a I was stopped. He stopped too to yell out to the open expanse of coastline. "I'll see ya in Big Sur."
The homeless man with the bunny drove past me heading into Big Sur. This sure was a very rocky coast, filled with miles upon miles upon miles of hills and curves. I slowly made it to Big Sur and rode the rest of the way into Pfeiffer Big Sur campground that had a very well-established hiker/biker site. I was glad I was here because I, along with Tyler, plan to stay an extra day here to rest my ligaments and catch up on some much-needed sleep from San Fran. I rolled out my mat and sleeping bag and took a rest...
July 28 (Big Sur Rest Day, 00.00 miles) - I was in no hurry to get out of bed because I was dog-tired. It's days like these that I get too lazy to set up a tent, but it's just as well because it's such a beautiful day. I awoke to the giant Redwood trees looming over me. This was one of my favorite places to camp along the coast. Now, I've heard so much about Big Sur and the surrounding areas that I was expecting more. I was a little disappointed to tell the truth. Don't get me wrong, the coast was gorgeous and the forests here were amazing. It truly is a great place, but I don't see what all they hype was about. Was there something I was missing? Sure, I had no time to climb down and explore the beaches, and I've heard there were some caves nearby, but I still had a good time there and am glad I got to see it. There is one thing true about Big Sur: expensive. Big Sur and the surrounding small towns along this remote section of Hwy 1 are super expensive if you want to buy anything. I think they take advantage of the remoteness. I had thought that some of the prices they charge should be illegal. They are more than airports. It's crazy, it is. But I didn't get hung up on that fact. I bought what I needed and moved on.
I didn't sleep the entire day away, although I probably could've, especially with the sun on my face. I spent the day taking pictures, journaling, walking to the lodge and around on the various trails the park offered. And there was a trail to a waterfall that I wanted to take advantage of. It was probably about 3 miles, so relatively short. There were a few others who hiked this as well. When I got there, it was more like a trickle than a waterfall. It was really disappointing. Hiking back down I wanted to tell people hiking up that it wasn't worth it, but I didn't Instead I marveled at some of the views of the canyons and valleys. This is but one state and God's creation never ceases to astound. When I got back to my camp, I decided to give my bike a cleaning again. Tyler was flirting with a fellow cyclist in camp and I just ignored them. Although, later that evening she asked if she could use my dual charger which was okay. I'm a nice a guy.
It's amazing what some time off the bike can do for your muscles and your soul...
July 29 (Pfeifer Big Sur to San Simeon State Park, 73.75 miles) - The fog once again settled over the blue ocean which made for spectacular views from the road. Some of the clusters of rocks below, the coves on the edge of the coast reminded me of a pirate's hideout or where they may arrive to find buried treasure. On tour, you have to keep your imagination alive. It's not that difficult. There was one pullout that I stopped at that seemed like an abandoned watering hole. It was empty, just a stone structure. It was quite interesting. A little further down the road there was this short tunnel-like structure that was the coolest thing. It was this rock and stone structure that created a tunnel with large windows overlooking the ocean. It might've been created to prevent landslides or something. I'm not sure. I also saw this huge seat on the side of the road. It was made out of a huge tree stump. It was just calling out to me to come sit in it. I felt like a king looking out over my expanse water kingdom! It was near here where, at a viewpoint, a squirrel decided to nibble on my bike tire. I found that amusing. He had some friends chasing after crows and other birds. It was a happening place for wildlife, even the seagulls joined in.
The fog was starting to dissipate some coming down from the hills. The road began to flatten out and it was a much-needed surprise to be going faster for a change. Tyler sped on by me seeming to enjoy the same sentiment. I came to a part of coastline where there were hundreds of sea lions lounging out on the beach. I met a man from Salem here when he asked me where I was from. At long last, I came to Hearst Castle. It was getting late, but I was almost to San Simeon, so I decided to ride up the hill to Hearst Castle to see what that was like. And, of course, like everything else, it costs a fortune to get in. They wouldn't even allow you to see it without paying the fee to enter. I did hear the castle is very cool and maybe some day I will go see it, but not today. Today, I will continue to San Simeon. At San Simeon, I witnessed a beautiful sunset. It looked like Tyler and I were the only bicyclists there so we just shared a site. There were more hiker/biker sites but many of the "car and RV campers" did not read the "Hiker/biker only" signs. The disrespect continues... Anyway, it was a nice campground though. I got out my alcohol stove again to try it and it worked! I heated up a cup of coffee. It didn't work all the time. But I was happy when it did! Tyler came back from town with some beer and snacks and offered me some beer but I declined.
July 30 (San Simeon to Coastal Dunes RV Park across from Pismo Beach State Park, 56.58 miles) - After Harmony and Cayucos and bypassing Morro Bay I came within a stone's throw of San Luis Obispo, but I had no reason to go there. It was out of the way and I once again strayed from the main highway which was nice. Again, there were many bicyclist-specific paths throughout...some even equipped with bicycle traffic lights. After Los Osos, the Valley of the Bears, I stopped at a pleasant green city park by the beach to eat some lunch and my cheese bagel. I was close to Pismo Beach and it was early so I stayed there after lunch and perused over my maps to see where I was heading after that. I also took in the palm trees...it was a sign that I was heading into Southern Cali.
I came to Pismo Beach and rolled into Oceano Campground where, from prior research, knew there was a hiker/biker site. They turned me away unless I wanted to pay for a full tent-site. Their story was that they used to have a hiker/biker site but don't any more. Who does that? Who gets rid of a hiker/biker site, the greatest camping invention known to man? I was a little perturbed. They turned away another cyclist just before me (who turned out to be Tyler). They recommended me to across the way where there was an RV Park that allowed some bicyclists to camp. That was my best bet. I rode there, across the street and paid $13.00 for a hiker/biker site. I saw Tyler there and he thought it was ridiculous too and almost decided to sleep on the beach. There was a pool here however and even laundry facilities where I charged my phone. Tyler took a dip in the pool and after the fact, I wish I had too. The evening was pleasant except...the park was conveniently located right between the highway and the train tracks. There was a train that ran every few hours. It woke me up at about 4:00am. After my shower, I walked past Tyler who said, "Hey, we've got a movie playing at our site." When I got there I knew what he was talking about. Our RV neighbors were in fact watching a movie on a large projector screen. So between that, the highway traffic and the trains, I don't need to mention that I didn't get much sleep, or at least good sleep. We were touring cyclists who need our sleep. We did our best. There was a little boy there on a bike who befriended us and gave us some gummy candies. I thought that was rather nice. You have to appreciate the little pleasantries on tour.
July 31 (Coastal Dunes to Goleta, 93.60 miles) - The next morning was the last I saw of Tyler. He was headed to his home in Tuscon, Arizona. I bid him farewell and good luck. I got an early start because I knew, from my map and research, today was going to be a long day. And indeed it was.
Here's the story: I was in contact with a warmshowers host in Ventura but the day or two prior to my scheduled arrival, Lesile, my contact messaged me and said she misread my e-mail and was thus unable to host me that night. She would be able to the previous night, but that would require me to ride an extra 30 miles which was insane. That was on top of like 80 or 90 miles. There was no way I would do that. So this was frustrating to say the least. I was scrambling. I searched for a few in Lompoc, but those were no-gos. I finally found a host in Goleta by the name of Jesse Hersh. He was happy to have me. So, that is where I made my way...to Jesse in Goleta.
For most of the day, my route took me away from the coast which was fine because it is nice to have a change of scenery every now and again. I saw some deer as I rode through the city of Santa Maria where I got some supplies and through Los Alamos, the Valley of the Cottonwoods and Buellton, home of the Split Pea Soup. I also saw a horse, the deer's friend. He was white. I stopped in Buellton's visitor center and picked up some information and noticed there was not a regular bike shop. Everyone down here and further south had electric bikes.
There were a lot of gusty winds today and the heat was attacking with a vengeance. There was a train track running right by the ocean and I thought that was the coolest thing. It just looked really picturesque. This was of course when I made it back to the coast via Gaviota. I made it to Jesse's place in Goleta and to my surprise there were several other bicycle tourists there too. I was beat for having ridden over 90 miles today. Jesse was a bachelor who lived alone and had a cool garden filled with camping spots for us. I felt like I was in the forest. Jesse himself had an igloo-type lodging that he slept in. He did have a house with a shower and bathroom and kitchen. The next morning he would make me some coffee which was nice of him. He was a very polite man with a cool mustache the he was spiffing up with the help of a friend. Haha. Thanks Jesse for saving my bacon. I am tired, so I will have to retire to my sleeping bag out in the garden...
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