Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

111 degrees. Not kidding. And hills with 9% grade. The combination acted like a one-two punch. The heat came from above then hit me again after bouncing up from the pavement. I felt like I was in an oven, slow roasting for nearly six hours. Not exactly what I call fun. Because of the landslide at Big Sur, we were rerouted inland, to the valley running between the ranges. Yesterday was quite wonderful. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride through the valley, seeing the farmland. I never quite grasped just how much food is grown in California. Now I know. Tons. And so many migrant workers in the fields before dawn, bending over to pick, hoe, and take care of the fields. Grueling work, no doubt. I have a much higher appreciation for all that they do to make sure we in other parts of the country have fresh veggies and fruits. I have vowed to think much more of those who work in the fields each and every time I buy veggies and fruits. Today, the morning started out at 60 degrees. Foggy, mist

For the better part of the last ten days, we've not been in areas with cell phone coverage or wifi. I've been on roaming and haven't been able to do much online writing. I was fascinated with how the little towns have phone booths. They have to. No cell phone coverage. On one hand, I love the idea of not being so plugged in. Life is a bit simpler in those places. On the other hand, having had a cell phone for years and always being able to contact people in a matter of seconds via texting or calling, I've become accustomed to the ease the cell phone offers. Now we've reached San Francisco. 1070 miles into the ride. Just under 800 miles to go. Two weeks to San Diego. The ride has been everything I thought it would be. Beautiful landscape. Breathtaking coastline. Incredibly difficult hills. Each day, I marvel at the wonder that is our country, and I truly wish everyone, every single person who lives here, could take the time to explore and experience what is the U

Since Astoria, we've ridden some longer days, anywhere from 65-75 miles. A couple of those days involved some lengthy hills. Today, we had a 65-mile day, with some hills, but these were gentle and along the coast. The views were spectacular. I couldn't get enough of the tall cliffs, the waves crashing against the rocks, the sea gulls, the sea lions, and the whales. Whales! Just incredible. One of the really fun things about doing a ride like this is all the different walks of life I encounter. Today, I met a couple from Las Vegas. I had just finished showering and was walking back to camp when they pulled in to do their laundry. The gentleman asked me how things were going, and I told him getting the road dirt off after a rainy morning felt wonderful. He thought I was riding a motorcycle. When I said no, a bicycle, he got that look of surprise so many give me when they find out what I'm doing. I returned to the laundry room shortly after to do my nasty clothes, but the

Yesterday we rode into Astoria, OR. Goonies territory. Sea lions barking down at the docks. Painted ladies gracing the hillsides. The morning started out very foggy, with a misting just enough to make wearing sunglasses annoying, but not wearing the sunglasses was even more annoying. When we reached the ferry at Cathlamet, the sun started making gains against the fog. The temperature went from the mid 50's to 80 in a blink. My hands could finally warm up. The final 26 miles to Astoria offered up some hills. Nothing that Sweetness couldn't handle, but I did hear a deep creaking coming from the crank. The front and back derailleurs need adjustment, too. No wonder after four days of 8% - 15% grades. A lot of mashing of the pedals going on. Hopefully, that'll ease up some. Hopefully. Today's a rest day. I slept in the church proper, in a back corner. Alone. No one else chose the church to settle in for the night or for today. The quiet is bliss. The days leading u

Four days ago I left central Illinois to take on the Pacific Coast. I stayed the night with a friend from last summer's Northern Tier ride, sitting on her back deck, a glass of wine in hand, perfect for catching up and enjoying the evening. Finally, at midnight (two o'clock Illinois time) we said our goodnights. We picked up in the morning where we'd left off the night before, more catching up, walking a beautiful path around a lake, and pie on the way back to her apartment. I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful re-introduction to Seattle. Saturday, my friend helped me load up my bike and gear then took me to the hotel where all of us riding the PAC coast were staying the night before starting out on the ride Sunday. We met each other, had dinner together, then played trivia. The day flew by. Before I knew it, I was in bed (actually on the floor since three of us were in a two bed room). I'd rather have the floor since I've become so used to having a much

I put Neil Diamond on the turn-table this morning to keep me company as I laid out the electronics I'll be taking with me on the ride. With the first few notes of "Everybody's talkin,'" memories from years ago flooded through me. Instead of sorting through the charging cords and other assorted electronics, I sat in the middle of my bedroom to float on the memories. Summers spent riding ponies and horses through clover fields. Making construction paper ribbons and having our own horse shows with Mom as the judge. She never played favorites. Hot summer nights playing Kick the Can. On rare occasions, Mom would call for us from the back porch that it was time to come in for the day. Most often, she let us determine our own bedtime. Mom waking me up one August night to take me out to a blanket she had spread on the lawn. We laid there, watching meteors race across the sky. Mom loved listening to Neil Diamond. Whenever one of his songs came on the radio she woul