I woke early today in my shed home for the night, got around quickly, and rode out before 8. I happened to see my host driving into town, probably to take the kids to school, and was able to wave goodbye. I soon ventured off of 101 and onto the Avenue of Giants, a fantastical, yet apt, name for the scenic byway through the redwoods. It was a wonderful ride that took me past the immortal tree, again, an apt name, for a redwood that had just refused to die by axe, flood, or fire, through many cute little towns, and over to the Shrine Drive Thru Tree. And because I simply couldn't go through this area without going through ONE of the three living redwoods you can literally drive through, I went ahead and paid the $3 to go through the tree and pose my bike for some pictures. It was really touristy, sure, but still fun.
After that I got back on the highway, or rather, freeway at that particular section, since starting in California 101 changes back and forth from 2 to 4 lanes with no ability to make up its mind what it is. I wished I waited. That stretch where I got on had a criminal lack of shoulder for several miles, despite being legal for bicyclists there, and I was rather scared out of my head for a time. But thankfully the shoulder widened again eventually and my life seemed to come back into the safety of my own hands. On and on I biked through and around the forest, up and down hills, over the same winding river time and again, the sweat starting to drip into my eyes, my awaited warmth now come on this clear, sunny day, and hitting me just a little too hard. Realizing I was struggling even more than usual on a climb, I had to stop at one point because I realized my rear brakes were hitting, for reasons I still don't quite get, and I had to loosen them up a little to solve the issue.
At some point I developed a desperate craving for juice, and I decided that was my body telling me I hadn't consumed any fruit in a couple days. I eventually made my way up a steep climb off the highway into Garberville. I was amazed to discover I had LTE signal in the Podunk, all uphill little town. I bought a couple bagels, an ice cream bar, and one of those expensive fruit drinks with many times your daily need for vitamin C. After a hell of a time getting out of the damn town and back on the highway properly (may or may not have gotten turned around and ultimately gone, entirely unseen, the wrong way down an offramp to get back on track), I had a hard choice to make, Richardson Grove in a mere 8 miles, or a 22 mile push up an extra near 2000 feet to Standish-Hickey to make the intense day to Fort Bragg tomorrow a little less so.
I reached Richardson Grove, went in a ways, down a way too steep slope, to use the bathroom. Then I drank half my bottle of juice like it were a shot of adrenaline and pushed ahead. It took awhile before I started climbing, which I took as a bad sign, meaning it would be steeper when I finally started. There was definitely some rough climbing. Though perhaps not as bad as I thought. Blessedly, I found myself getting a second wind, literally, finding myself riding with a rare tailwind for a time for what seemed the second time in the day (after an earlier period in the Avenue of Giants when I felt like I was soaring). It was still rough going thoygh. The sun was low in the sky, and I was exhausted, but I finally pulled into the park a little before 7.
I was amazed when I came into the campground to encounter other bike tourists, with young kids, on tandem bikes, riding from San Diego to Portland. How epic is that? All the time I encounter people who claim travel is impossible for them because they have kids, and here are these people on a grand adventure with their children. People make so many excuse not to do exciting things, and it's good to remember that generally that's all they are: excuses.
Too tired to bother with the affair of setting up my tent, I sprayed myself thoroughly in bug spray to (hopefully) ward off the waves of mosquitoes, and threw down my bedroll and sleeping bag under a picnic shelter. Then I walked across the road to the little bar/restaurant/gift shop/grocery store where I had seen a payphone. ...It turned out to be more of a payphone booth with stranded wires than an actual payphone. Not wanting to waste the walk, I got myself a giant cookie and a meatless breakfast burrito, feeling I owed myself the treat, being over my usual food budget today be damned.
Tomorrow is the hard, but now thankfully shorter, push to Fort Bragg. The bike tourist family coming from the other way said it was the hardest day they've had. That's both worrisome and encouraging, because it means all the riding afterwards from here to LA may be easier than what comes tomorrow. Either way, I'm making it happen. And tomorrow night, after a night under a shelter and the night before in a shed, I finally get to be indoors in a bed. I am really looking forward to it.
Posted on the 16th, the day after.
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