“Of course I’m crazy, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Please pull over… Please pull over,” blared from behind me, jarring me out of my day dream and causing me to look at what was causing the commotion behind me. Only then did I notice the cop who was slowly creeping up behind me, trying to pull me over.
Welcome to Central California, where biking is not an acceptable form of transportation.
“He went out and did the things he dreamed about, not simply for a two-week vacation in trimmed wonderlands, but for months and years in the very midst of wonder.”
One of the questions I get most often is, “what inspired you,” or just simply, “why?” It’s hard to say really, it wasn’t just one event that sparked this trip, but rather a gradual build up of things that lead me to type in “bike touring around the world” into google. Once I had read other cyclists blogs though, I was hooked.
I clearly remember at fourteen sitting in a hostel in Switzerland when a few older Belgium boys (probably only eighteen or nineteen at the time) walked in, decked out in their biking gear. They were biking the Swiss Alps for a few weeks (not touring, just different day trips) and I remember thinking to myself, “someday, I’m going to be that cool too.” At sixteen I remember briefly meeting a young man in a German hostel who had just graduated from law school. He had taken the summer off to bike through Europe, and I remember being completely awe-struck at how amazing that sounded. After that, the thought of biking across a country didn’t enter my mind again until a few months ago.
“I can’t have bad dreams when I sleep under the stars.”
Where do I sleep? Well, that just depends on the night.
Hiker/Biker Campsite
Imagine ten small tents, another ten people on a large tarp lying under the stars, and twenty-five bikes scattered around, leaning on trees and picnic tables. The two or three tables allotted to this special “hiker/biker” site are inevitably full of food, people, and every kind of stove imaginable, because the first thing a biker does after changing out of his or her spandex is to cook a well earned meal. What makes these sites what they are, though, are the people. Take this scenario for instance. There are five college girls from all over the country who met up to bike together, there are three Canadian guys who just graduated from engineering school, as well as a dad and daughter duo from Quebec. There are a few American college boys who have taken the summer off to bike, a guy with a guitar making his way to San Francisco to play, a fellow from who knows where who doesn’t speak any English, two older homeless guys biking wherever they can find food, and a hiker who just hiked the California Coast Trail.
“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.”
I have been living in a cloud for the last few days. I would wake up, with a wet tent, in a cloud. I would bike all day, through the cloud, which made for horrible visibility. And then in the late afternoon or evening, I would arrive at my campsite only to find that I still hadn’t escaped that darn cloud. It has been the foggiest few days of my life, and I could never imagine living in this dreary area, even though the coast and scenery is beautiful. The last stretch of the route has taken me through the countryside once again, where there are probably more cows than humans. A large town in this area was anything over 1,000 people, as most of the towns had under 300. The highway twists and turns around sharpe bends, and climbs (and descends) constantly. I was able to share this somewhat treacherous ride with the same bikers I have been with (not every night, but often) since Oregon, but now that we have all arrived in the big city, we have gone our separate ways.
“I see my path, but I don’t know where it leads. Not knowing where I’m going is what inspires me to travel it.”
The last few days have been extremely diverse, both the camping and the riding, which goes to show that not everyday on the bike is by any means the same. I spent one of the best days this trip cycling through the “Avenue of the Giants,” a small road that took a thirty mile trip through the redwoods. It was cool (there was lots of shade), there was a beautiful river to swim and bathe in, and it was a very easy ride with almost no traffic. The next day though was completely different. The small road once again joined up with the busy freeway, and the day turned into a nightmarish Californian sauna. Since the road had veered away from the coast it was over 95f, and I spent the day climbing hills, without shade, beside a steady stream of impatient drivers. Sounds like hell right? Well it was, but near the end of the last climb of the day I remember thinking to myself that there was still no where else I would rather be. Fortunately that was the end of highway 101 for me, and the rest of my trip will continue along the smaller and very hilly highway 01. Though there is no shoulder, it is not very busy (and the cars have been considerate so far), and it follows right beside the coast which means it is a good fifteen degrees cooler than it would be inland. The downside to this road are the hills. Instead of long climbs (which are fine since you get into a rhythm and hardly notice you just climbed over 1000 ft), highway 01 is a constant path of small steep rolling hills. These are extremely frustrating because there is no way to get into a rhythm, you are constantly changing gears, and even the downhills aren’t that fun since you have to use your breaks (there are lots of very sharpe curves). Now, instead of the hundred degree day I experience a few days ago, I’m sitting in a sweatshirt outside a cafe on a cloudy sixty degree day. The weather here is about as crazy as I am!
“Adventure is a state of mind. It is an attitude. I wanted an adventure, a journey, a challenge, not a holiday. By doing no research every day would be novel, unexpected and exciting. Every day I would need to seek out food and water, somewhere to sleep.”
After people have talked with me for a bit about my trip they always ask if I have my nightly destinations planned out ahead of time. I definitely don’t for a few reasons. By having a specific place to be you take away the spontaneity of the trip and don’t allow for opportunities that present themselves, opportunities that you could never predict. I also have no idea how many miles a day I will feel like doing ahead of time, or where I will want to take a rest day. Plus, I never would have stayed with all the lovely people I have met with along the way if I had some campsite always planned out. The reason I have chosen the bike is to get off the beaten tourist track and to meet people from all walks of life, and by having such a ridged schedule, you take away all of that. For most of you, the thought of not knowing where you will be sleeping that night when five pm rolls around probably scares you. Well actually, that thought has probably never even crossed your mind. For me though, that’s exactly what I am looking for.
“The secret of happiness is freedom.”
The redwoods are the tallest trees in the world. There are two types in California, the Sequoia, and the Sequoiadendron (Coastal Redwood), and both species are true giants. These trees can live from 2,000-3,200 years old (depending on their species), can grow up to 375 feet tall, and weigh 500 tons! The most impressive aspect about these threes though is their girth. These are the kind of trees twenty-five people can hug at the same time, and still not touch. They are incredibly resistant to fire, insects, and disease because they have a foot-thick bark protecting them. Unfortunately, this bark has done nothing to protect them against their only predator, humans, who have successfully cut down 95 percent of their population. The remaining trees are now in four different state parks throughout California.
“We travel not to escape life. But for life not to escape us.”
“We’ll you aren’t some big huge hunky girl!” No, not really. At five-foot-two and a hundred-and-ten pounds that is not quite how most people describe me. Apparently though, when my friend’s gramma was picturing me after he explained my trip to her, that is what she came up with. One of the reasons I am so glad to be doing this trip now, as a young (small) solo female, is because I am breaking just about every stereotype for someone biking around the world. I want to show the world that anyone can do it. Plus, I am starting to enjoy the shocked look most people get when I tell them where I am headed.
“Look at the sky. We are not alone. The whole universe is friendly to us and conspires only to give the best to those who dream and work.”
I have learned, after three days of waking up with a wet sleeping bag, that I really do need to start using my rain fly at night since there is so much morning dew. I have learned that it’s not the highways, but going through towns that are the scariest. I have learned to eat, drink, check the map, and ride at the same time, and I have learned that I will eat absolutely everything, even half-cooked plain noodles in lukewarm water. First and foremost though, I have learned that people are so incredibly great, especially to us bikers.
“The journey itself is my home.”
My apartment is no longer mine, my cat has found a new home, and my bike is packed with 27kg of gear and clothes (36kg counting food for a week and five liters of water). I have everything needed to camp (tent, sleeping pad, water filter, stove), to survive the Himalayas in the winter (warm sleeping bag, long underwear, down jacket, hiking boots), and to repair my bike (extra chain, cables, brake pads, and tools). I even have a dress, skirt, and earrings, so I can feel like a normal gal every once in a while, as well as running shoes (barefoot toe shoes, very light), a book to read, and some pj’s to change into at night. More importantly I have an iPod with two thousand podcasts to listen to as I ride, and two cameras to capture a small portion of the life I am about to begin.
The Wandering Nomads 