Enduring

I was so tired last night I fell asleep halfway through typing this... I didn't expect yesterday to be a good day. I had a lot of climbing to do that I knew would stress both me and my jury-rigged garden hose connector, and I was more than a little worried about whether we were going to hold up. But the day dared to defy all my expectations and be a great ride despite my certainty of despairing prospects.

I woke around 7 in the comfort of my sleeping bag on the floor, my hosts awaking shortly thereafter, a hard thing not to do when sleeping in the same small room. As promised, I was made orange flavored cinnamon rolls, which I wolfed down along with my big gulp of mountain dew. I generally avoid caffeine these days, and especially soda, and especially mountain dew. But I had determined this was a special case, and avoiding it as I do, when I do imbibe, it hits me hard. I was awake and I was ready come 7:30, and on my way out the door to face my difficult day.

Getting out of Monterey required all kinds of winding, hill climbing, navigating nonsense. But after that I was soon on Highway 1, and before long had nowhere else I could possibly be, nothing to do but follow the one and only road from here to my stay for the night. This stretch of 1 wasn't too bad either, often not a very broad shoulder, but seeming to have at least something more often than not, and traffic that was generally understanding. I had only a few minor incidents with cars zipping by too close, too fast, or having someone blare their horn at me for no reason. And at this point I'm becoming innured to any such regular occurrences so long as they don't make me think I'm going to die.

It's a beautiful stretch too, a narrow road through a vast wilderness, forested hills to the left spanning for many miles, cliffside dropping into the rocky coast of the ocean on the right spanning for many, many more. I will likely not forget the sign indicating a winding road for the "next 72 miles". It's isolated, to be sure, signal very spotty, but little campgrounds and tourist lodging, gas stations, and grocery stores emerging here and there. The biggest of which is Big Sur where I stopped to get a little lunch, a bagel I was able to heat in the microwave and some string cheese, as well as a victory muffin for later once I'd made the big climb. Despite still needing my jacket for the chill gray day, at least for the downhills, I there decided it was tie to be rid of my hobo gloves after carrying rhem in my pocket for a couple days now and tossed them in the trash.

I managed to endure the first, little big climb just fine, not even in all that low a gear. After which there was a blissful flat stretch up through Big Sur before the real, big climb began. There was ominous creaking at times from my garden hose, but a stop halfway up, which I probably needed anyways, confirmed it was holding okay. Then before I knew it, I'd completed the climb and was headed down. Work that it was, it was sure as hell no Big Horns.

I wonder how many people know the joy of making a big climb up a cliffside and then coming down the other side with the immense relief their garden hose trailer connector had held through it all. ...Probably not many. It's kind of a specific, situational sensation. It tastes like victory, smells faintly of burnt rubber, and sounds like someone singing songs of triumph way too loud and out of key. My trailer had endured the big climb, and while there was still a good many miles and a series of shorter climbs (while overall dropping toward sea level), I knew she was going to make it through at least today. And making it through today meant that one way or another, either by this piece holding up all the way, or using my backup garden hose pieces, I could make it.

I arrived at the station with perfect timing, right as my forest firefighting host arrived as well. He showed me down to his place, and took to meeting my needs with frequent stating of, "whatever you need, man," to my every inquiry for permission. Fresh from my shower, I had the treat of his very hot homemade poppers alongside a cold beer. Then there was spicy spaghetti and cheese bread for dinner, as much as I could eat, with thin mints for dessert. We talked about touring, about his impressive travels around the country (only 8 states missing I believe was the count), both for his job fighting forest fires and for recreation, and his even bigger adventures abroad, including a recent trip to Africa to climb Kilimanjaro, as well as his tricks for getting free flight miles I will have to look into. He's a really great guy who has lived an exciting life, and who also really knows how to treat cyclists well. It was a great end to a surprisingly good day.