The hiker/biker area was far from empty on this foggy morning. Not only were there the four of us that rolled in after dark but there were two others that were there before us and even another that must have showed up after I was asleep. I woke as the first rays of sun peaked through the branches above, packed up my stuff quick and was ready to get on the road as soon as possible. The three others that I met were feeling a little more relaxed, and made themselves breakfast. Since I was interested I'm riding with others I figure I'd take the time to eat as well, but by 8 we were on the road.
As the fog burned off James and I chatted and laughed, but I did get to know the girls a bit as well. They were from British Columbia and it was their first time on a bicycle tour tour. They were staying in Point Arena that day, about 40 miles up the road before heading toward Napa, and I personally was hoping to make it a little farther than that. They thought that they might be in the bay area for Halloween, and I thought I may be too. Within an hour of hitting the road we arrived in Fort Bragg. James and I were interested in checking out the North Coast Brewery, but they wouldn't be open for another hour, so we decided against it. Rowan and Jess found a laundromat in town and had decided it was time for some clean riding clothes. Since James and I wanted to make some miles, the different sexes decided to part ways. James and the girls said their goodbyes, and I exchanged contact info with them just in case we happened to be in the bay area at the same time.
As we continued south down the coast, James and I talked and rode and it soon became obvious that James and I had a lot in common, with sense of humor being one of those things. As we laughed our way to the top of the hills I learned a lot about my new riding buddy. He had been touring since May, in the French Alps. After working s winter there at a ski resort, he set out on a 3000 mile tour across France. For this last leg of his journey he was traveling south from Bellingham, WA to Los Angeles, CA so that he could get his visa to go back for the upcoming ski season. James and I are of a similar stature and age, but he is a beast on his bicycle. He shoots ahead of me on every uphill, which keeps me motivated to push harder, and just cuts around the tight downhill curves like somebody racing a motorcycle. I guess that's what 3000 miles in the Alps and Pyrenees mountains will do to a person.
After almost 45 minutes we entered the small town of Mendocino. Mendocino is a cute place, and I got a good feeling from it. James and I stopped at a small cafe so that we could charge our phones, I could work on the blog and he could make an international call using Skype. The coffee was good and the macaroons were to die for at Moody's Organic Coffee Bar. A local patron asked us about our individual tours, as they tend to do, and also informed us of a little health food store around the corner. At Corners of the Mouth health foods I was able to stock up on trail mix, honey, and dried apricots. It was a cool little market that was converted from an old church. Healthy eating is definitely a religion I can believe in.
The rest of the day James and I just rode and rode and rode...and laughed. We passed some beautiful areas of the coastline where bright pink and purple flowers would magically appear along the more earth-toned hillsides. We were sure to stop and take pictures, snack and enjoy the sights. James definitely has the gift of gab, so I asked a lot of questions about his travels and picked his brain for tips on bicycle touring. The chatting really makes the hills easier and the time go by fast. We were just passing through one town after the next: Albion, Elk, Manchester, Point Arena, Gallaway, Anchor Bay, and before we knew it Gualala.
The sun was just setting, we had made it 70 miles and feeling very accomplished. We stopped at a local market and got some snacks and something to drink and found a small spot on the coast to sit as we recounted our day and watched the sun disappear. After riding up a hill off of highway 1, only to discover that the campground was closed for the winter we weighed our options. If we were going to continue on down the road, we would need some nourishment. A hole-in-the-wall pizza place called Upper Crust Pizzeria ended up being one of those local gems that you're thrilled to stumble upon. We split a medium chicken pesto, which was amazing, but really could've eaten a whole large between the two of us. Pizza is a great high energy food for bicycle touring and James joked that the only thing that could get between the bond that cyclists share is a slice of pepperoni pizza.
Now energized, we decided to continue on in the dark. The night was immaculate. No clouds or fog or light pollution, and just a billion stars in the night sky as far as the eye could see. The roads were quiet also and I once again was feeling pretty comfortable riding so late. This had already been my longest day so far, and here I was pushing forward. It's funny though, I was still feeling strong. Having the company of somebody who had been doing this for a while really helped keep my spirits and stamina up. As we entered Salt Point State Park, 13 miles down the road, we were having a difficult time reading the signs...and I think the rest of the ride that day was catching up with us. I was hitting a wall. We took a small break to marvel in the night sky and rest our legs, and I felt as if I could've fallen asleep right in the grass where I lay off the side of the road.
About a mile up the road we finally found a campground that was open. There were no showers, but there was drinkable water. We set up camp ad minimally as possible, in fact James didn't even use a tent and just slept under the picnic table. As I lay in my hammock in tent position, I stared again into the night sky and was proud of making it 84 miles that day. The last thing I remember was watching a shooting star fly across the sky, then I closed my eyes as I wanted that to be the last thing I saw before falling asleep.
Miles: 84
RRD: a tarp
-D
http://www.trackmytour.com/b5k7d
It would be interesting if you actually were alone with some multiple-personality disorder. ...Talking to nobody, thinking you had a new riding buddy that your subconscious had christened "James".
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