Rain, Rain, Wash Away All the Fears of Yesterday

To my surprise, it was raining when I awoke this morning. It was raining fairly hard too. It was hard to be upset though at the personal inconvenience when it was raining in an area that desperately needs it. My host made me another spectacular meal, then I sat and waited for the rain to pass. Come 9:30, I decided I simply could not wait anymore to get started on my 70 mile ride for the day and decided to brave the rain. It stopped right as I was packing out and prepping the trailer. My timing was apparently impeccable. All threat of any more rain quickly passed, and I was soon stripping off the extra layer of pants I had needlessly donned over my biking pants to face the already ended rain.

Somehow, watching the rain out the window while chatting with my host, preparing to face the unpleasant wetness, then facing the reprieve of it ending just then, it seemed to grant me a fresh perspective, a brighter, clearer look on today and the few days ahead. I felt sure it was going to be okay.

Beyond that, it honestly wasn't that eventful of a day. I biked on over flat ground past beautiful beach areas and then into seemingly endless farm fields. Save a few exceptional places, the scenery wasn't so interesting, and even where it was I hadn't the time or the place to pull aside for pictures. I mostly just biked, with very few stops, on toward Vandenberg. The wind was a capricious mistress. I guess she was mostly consistent, blowing largely from the west, strongly. And rather it was circumstance I should blame. But regardless, with my meandering route, going south, west, and east at different times, I found myself with cross, tail, and headwinds at different times. My host for tonight, knowing the frequent severity of the wind after a rain, actually texted me to offer a ride. But I resisted any temptation and pushed ever ahead.

It was arduous, especially after such a largely flat stretch most the day, making a steep climb, perhaps the last of my trip, towards the end of my ride, into a headwind for most of it. I actually called a couple people and shouted at them over the roar of the cars and wind on speaker phone inside my belt bag. Between the wind, the climb, the fact I'd foolishly let my sleeves roll up and my wrists burn, and the mostly uninteresting farmland, I was so ready to be done toward the end.

Eventually though, I arrived at my hosts', garden hose still holding, myself and my bike intact as well. I was served an exceptional vegetarian meal, toast, lentils, and three kinds of lasagna, one standard with no meat, one without cheese, and one with pesta rather than tomato, all to accommodate the different dietary needs at the table. My host was apparently very used to that kind of cooking, and it went to show how accommodating she is. It was fun chatting with her and her husband, hearing about the many people they have hosted, the many travels backpacking locally and across the world, and about their kids and their adventures. They have plenty of money to afford big expenses and they're of what I would consider a very sound mind to put that money toward travels. It was also funny listening to my host talk about the very narrow 50-80 degree temperature range she is accustomed to here, how she could scarcely imagine life in Nebraska, or even the mild weather of Seattle, compared to their ridiculously good weather, and seeing her fascination with the concept of ear muffs.

You acclimate, to whatever you face, I think, easy weather or hard, having luxuries or little, traveling or staying still, what have you. That's interesting to see. Everything is normal when you're living it or doing it. I've adjusted to life on the road, and now soon, very soon, I'll be readjusting to life in the same bed multiple nights in a row. It's hard to believe, just three more days.