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| San Simeon, near the Elephant Seal rookery |
San Simeon State Beach
Good energy attracts good energy.
Tiera and her aunt were looking for a site yesterday right before sunset when I invited them to join me. I figured I might as well--the hike/bike site at the Kirk Creek Campground is segmented into six separate picnic table areas, and all I needed were a few trees for my hammock. I preferred sharing a site anyway, so I was flattered when the ladies surveyed their options and returned to join me. We started talking about ambition, Tiera's program studying at Sonoma State University, and I realized that I have the chance to keep in touch with this very rad, very intuitively connected woman, not to mention her Aunt Terrie (or Terry, sorry if I'm misspelling!). I really enjoyed our conversation and am so grateful for their hospitality sharing their evening with me.
Tiera and her aunt were looking for a site yesterday right before sunset when I invited them to join me. I figured I might as well--the hike/bike site at the Kirk Creek Campground is segmented into six separate picnic table areas, and all I needed were a few trees for my hammock. I preferred sharing a site anyway, so I was flattered when the ladies surveyed their options and returned to join me. We started talking about ambition, Tiera's program studying at Sonoma State University, and I realized that I have the chance to keep in touch with this very rad, very intuitively connected woman, not to mention her Aunt Terrie (or Terry, sorry if I'm misspelling!). I really enjoyed our conversation and am so grateful for their hospitality sharing their evening with me.
After a little, I made sure to head back to site 22 to take Anna, Mary Ellen and their husbands up on their offer to share company around the campfire. They passed around a chocolate bar, I learned to look for the shine of Venus on the horizon as it set over the Pacific Ocean. I'd never seen that before!
With their warm company and the helpful glow of the campfire I managed to stay up past 8:30pm for the first time all week! I promised to come say goodbye the next morning and walked back to the hammock in absolute awe of the fact that I haven't felt lonely once for having been traveling solo for the better part of a week. Campground community is a self-selected pool of people who are excited to connect for the most part, but it's been really fun (and out of my comfort zone) to connect so quickly to so many people in a non-work setting.
I said goodbye to my seven new friends this morning after a mixed night's sleep battling the raccoons who tried for a solid hour and a half to get to the apple I left in my handlebar bag. The little punks pushed my bike over and everything!
Anyway, I stopped by to say goodbye to Mary Ellen and her husband first, politely declining the dutch oven donuts that looked out of this world. Then, I went over to say goodbye to Anna and her husband at their adventure van (covered in fresh raccoon prints from the night prior). They invited me to come see their family cabin built in the mountains above Toronto. I hope you meant it--every one of my friends I've relayed this story to expects to come along on my Canadian Reunion Tour. You all have quite the favorable reputation!
It was right after this that they asked how much weight I was carrying. 200 miles into my journey I realized I had no idea. Apparently bike + stuff felt like 80 pounds to Anna's husband. Huh.
OH RIGHT, THE RIDING PART
With a push from behind, Anna and her husband sent me up the hill away from the Kirk Creek campground and back to CA 1-South. It was pretty adorable-- a run-and-release number, like when Dad let go for the first time after taking off my training wheels.
And after twenty miles of up and down I realized how muted my riding awareness seems on this trip. Example, I felt surprised at how tiring 60 miles felt between Half Moon Bay and Capitola to find out from another cyclist there had been a terrible headwind we'd all been riding in to all afternoon. Oh...that makes more sense!
So when I reflect on the route, I remember that yes, there are some Big Hills in Big Sur. I expect to climb a lot every day, and I get excited when I get to descend. But I'm not really that into the stats. I like being able to say that today's ride felt good. Based on that evaluation, I know I could stand to stretch three times as much as I am, given how my quads feel.
So I guess that's my half-hearted apology for not giving the cycling play-by-play. I'll credit my stick-tuitive-ness and high spirits to two things:
And, the ride that day was supposed to be brief-- ~25 miles to Los Osos to stay with Joe Crockett's parents. But when I arrived at the exit off 101 South at noon, feeling so good, I made the game time decision to forgo the much anticipated hospitality to get a leg up on my itinerary and push an extra 30 miles to Pismo Beach.
Whole Foods was less than half a mile on the road I was riding through Santa Barbara when I thought about resupplying for the last leg of the trip. I made an impulse decision to buy a quart of chocolate milk as recovery drink for later, and before I'd finished lunch I looked over at the empty bottle fearful of what the final fifteen miles were going to feel like as this dairy bomb sloshed around inside me. I'll spare the details, but as it turns out it's not a great idea to do this before exercising.
And if I can take a moment to give a shout out to my biggest sponsors on this trip, Gluten and Dairy. Without these two, I'd have probably just eaten ten pounds of quinoa and bullion this week. Which is great...but I've sincerely enjoyed my evening ritual of "Tortellini Soup" (which is what I call it when you use just the right amount of water to boil the pasta and then consume all the residual juice because you're dehydrated and need to trick yourself into any water consumption possible). I would never serve another human what I've just consumed five nights in a row, but hey. Bachelorette life. Good thing no one's writing all this down to incriminate me later, right?
So, anyway. While at Whole Foods I research Pismo Beach camping to discover that there is no longer a hike/bike site at the campground, despite the confident recommendation in the 1984 version of Biking the California Coast. Apparently CA State Parks says they had too many issues with transients. Hmm.
Time solidifies my confidence that I'll just ride the wave of generosity from the week and plan on making friends with some Nice People, maybe offer to split the cost of a campsite. Realizing that I'd turned down a perfectly good evening with guaranteed hospitality, I got in line at Pismo Beach campground and walked back to talk to the car behind me as we queued at the kiosk.
The visitor behind me politely shot me down, saying he was staying with his parents. SO, when his parents pulled up behind him to pay his extra vehicle fee, I talked to the mom who seemed reluctant since their spot was in a field without trees for a hammock, but reluctantly said I could stay with them if I needed a spot.
The Park Aide, who was really stressed out and didn't have time to be very helpful, waved me through without a charge, and I did what I promised and tried scouting a more viable campsite share opportunity. And that's when I saw the basketweaver.
BINGO.
I approached politely, asking, "Excuse me. I have a bit of a strange question, but would there be any chance I might be able to share a site with you tonight--just hang my hammock in between the trees at the back of the site? There doesn't seem to be a hike/bike campground anymore and the fee for a full campsite seems a little silly since I need so little space."
I showered, wrote this sitting on my camping pad as I watched the setting sun and relaxed in the hammock for a bit as Rose and Mark played cards near their camper, listening to late 90s R&B.
THE SHORT STORY
With their warm company and the helpful glow of the campfire I managed to stay up past 8:30pm for the first time all week! I promised to come say goodbye the next morning and walked back to the hammock in absolute awe of the fact that I haven't felt lonely once for having been traveling solo for the better part of a week. Campground community is a self-selected pool of people who are excited to connect for the most part, but it's been really fun (and out of my comfort zone) to connect so quickly to so many people in a non-work setting.
I said goodbye to my seven new friends this morning after a mixed night's sleep battling the raccoons who tried for a solid hour and a half to get to the apple I left in my handlebar bag. The little punks pushed my bike over and everything!
Anyway, I stopped by to say goodbye to Mary Ellen and her husband first, politely declining the dutch oven donuts that looked out of this world. Then, I went over to say goodbye to Anna and her husband at their adventure van (covered in fresh raccoon prints from the night prior). They invited me to come see their family cabin built in the mountains above Toronto. I hope you meant it--every one of my friends I've relayed this story to expects to come along on my Canadian Reunion Tour. You all have quite the favorable reputation!
It was right after this that they asked how much weight I was carrying. 200 miles into my journey I realized I had no idea. Apparently bike + stuff felt like 80 pounds to Anna's husband. Huh.
OH RIGHT, THE RIDING PART
With a push from behind, Anna and her husband sent me up the hill away from the Kirk Creek campground and back to CA 1-South. It was pretty adorable-- a run-and-release number, like when Dad let go for the first time after taking off my training wheels.
And after twenty miles of up and down I realized how muted my riding awareness seems on this trip. Example, I felt surprised at how tiring 60 miles felt between Half Moon Bay and Capitola to find out from another cyclist there had been a terrible headwind we'd all been riding in to all afternoon. Oh...that makes more sense!
So when I reflect on the route, I remember that yes, there are some Big Hills in Big Sur. I expect to climb a lot every day, and I get excited when I get to descend. But I'm not really that into the stats. I like being able to say that today's ride felt good. Based on that evaluation, I know I could stand to stretch three times as much as I am, given how my quads feel.
So I guess that's my half-hearted apology for not giving the cycling play-by-play. I'll credit my stick-tuitive-ness and high spirits to two things:
- greasing my bike's chain every other day
- singing First Aid Kit songs at the top of my lungs when I thought I was the only one within earshot.
Friday March 20th, 2015
Pismo Beach Campground
So after a quiet evening yesterday in San Simeon State Park I woke up to make some coffee and hot granola (which is where you pour hot water on granola and eat it really fast before you have time to think about the fact you don't like granola...) when a little hand waved to me from the RV next door.
I have a secret weapon. It's a Napsack. People LOVE this thing, and voluntarily rock my orange marshmallow persona as long as possible every morning. It's cold! It's also a conversation starter, since people looove talking about how fun it is to walk around in your sleeping bag hoodie. And I hope Polar Stuff gives me a percentage of their profits for the free advertising I did for them down the coast.
Anyway, four year olds love brightly colored blobs, and about ten minutes after exchanging waves I the Napsack and I found ourselves on the couch of the RV enjoying a banana. This was actually pretty fortuitous since I'd forgotten my last banana in the food box back at Kirk Creek. Whoops.
I divided my attention between Luna the dog and Annie, who turns four in ten days, while having a conversation with Annie's grandmother, who prefers the self-imposed title of Tota. Annie insisted I sit next to her at breakfast and climbed in my lap to pay patty cake after eating her yogurt. I gained a shadow for the rest of the morning, and Annie enjoyed swinging in the hammock while I broke down the rest of camp. I put her to work helping to prep my gear for the ride that day, and this young woman has some muscle!
The family sent me on my way with snacks, shampoo, conditioner, qtips, wet wipes (okay, maybe more hygine-themed gifts than I think I wanted to admit I needed...) with offers for whatever else I might need. I'm telling you, the most kind and generous people ever are camping this Spring Break!
We took a few photos before I went to ride away, and the Tota (Anna) comes over to take off my bike glove, placing a ring on my left ring finger. It's a beautiful silver ring.
"I want you to have this," she syas.
"Really!?" I ask, stunned by the gesture.She confirmed. And so, despite the self-consciousness that comes with wearing a shiny ring on that finger at my age, I'm rocking it. I think of her every day now. I count myself fortunate for each of the women (and men too, but really a lot of women) who have taken the time to share their worlds with me on this journey.
And, the ride that day was supposed to be brief-- ~25 miles to Los Osos to stay with Joe Crockett's parents. But when I arrived at the exit off 101 South at noon, feeling so good, I made the game time decision to forgo the much anticipated hospitality to get a leg up on my itinerary and push an extra 30 miles to Pismo Beach.
Whole Foods was less than half a mile on the road I was riding through Santa Barbara when I thought about resupplying for the last leg of the trip. I made an impulse decision to buy a quart of chocolate milk as recovery drink for later, and before I'd finished lunch I looked over at the empty bottle fearful of what the final fifteen miles were going to feel like as this dairy bomb sloshed around inside me. I'll spare the details, but as it turns out it's not a great idea to do this before exercising.
And if I can take a moment to give a shout out to my biggest sponsors on this trip, Gluten and Dairy. Without these two, I'd have probably just eaten ten pounds of quinoa and bullion this week. Which is great...but I've sincerely enjoyed my evening ritual of "Tortellini Soup" (which is what I call it when you use just the right amount of water to boil the pasta and then consume all the residual juice because you're dehydrated and need to trick yourself into any water consumption possible). I would never serve another human what I've just consumed five nights in a row, but hey. Bachelorette life. Good thing no one's writing all this down to incriminate me later, right?
So, anyway. While at Whole Foods I research Pismo Beach camping to discover that there is no longer a hike/bike site at the campground, despite the confident recommendation in the 1984 version of Biking the California Coast. Apparently CA State Parks says they had too many issues with transients. Hmm.
Time solidifies my confidence that I'll just ride the wave of generosity from the week and plan on making friends with some Nice People, maybe offer to split the cost of a campsite. Realizing that I'd turned down a perfectly good evening with guaranteed hospitality, I got in line at Pismo Beach campground and walked back to talk to the car behind me as we queued at the kiosk.
The visitor behind me politely shot me down, saying he was staying with his parents. SO, when his parents pulled up behind him to pay his extra vehicle fee, I talked to the mom who seemed reluctant since their spot was in a field without trees for a hammock, but reluctantly said I could stay with them if I needed a spot.
The Park Aide, who was really stressed out and didn't have time to be very helpful, waved me through without a charge, and I did what I promised and tried scouting a more viable campsite share opportunity. And that's when I saw the basketweaver.
BINGO.
I approached politely, asking, "Excuse me. I have a bit of a strange question, but would there be any chance I might be able to share a site with you tonight--just hang my hammock in between the trees at the back of the site? There doesn't seem to be a hike/bike campground anymore and the fee for a full campsite seems a little silly since I need so little space."
"Oh, sure!" says the basketweaver, named Rose. "My husband Mark and I used to tour together on a tandem..."And then I got to hear about this one time in Oregon when they got stranded on the side of a remote road and were rescued, taken in by a local family for the night. Turns out Rose is bad@$$, and she weaves baskets!
I showered, wrote this sitting on my camping pad as I watched the setting sun and relaxed in the hammock for a bit as Rose and Mark played cards near their camper, listening to late 90s R&B.
THE SHORT STORY
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| Hot granola and coffee for breakfast. |
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| Please meet Annie, future cyclist, current enthusiast. |
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| Me & Annie and her Tota's little dog (Luna). |
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| BINGO! |
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| I haven't exposed my legs to sunlight in days and the tan line is still crazy somehow! |
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