Destination Los Angeles

A wedding party that started with Margaritas was never going to be a quiet one, so setting off for San Francisco my head was still a little fuzzy and certainly not up to navigating the multiple, contradicting cycle routes paralleling highway 101 up to and across the Golden Gate Bridge. I was midday when I finally get started, after catching up on all the gossip from the night before. My phone told me that San Francisco should have been a brisk 25 miles away, along a network of almost interconnecting bike routes. That’s where the problems started, each cycle path was signposted to the next town rather than the any ultimate destination and at critical points, like downtown San Pedro, they just completely disappeared. After several wrong turns and a few miles in the wrong direction, I settled on bike route number 5 and hoped it would lead me into San Francisco. To my surprise it did, heading across an expansive park attended by herons and into the beautiful waterfront town of Sausalito. To be honest if I’d planned a little better (or at all) these cycle routes would have been fantastic; they take you on quiet country roads or exclusive cycleways, once they are all linked up in a couple of years they will form a phenomenal cycling corridor into the city. 

Riding over the Golden Gate Bridge

The climb up to the Golden Gate Bridge was fantastic, my mountain legs were serving me well and I was able to overtake a number of day riders – there’s nothing like other cyclist for motivation. Up onto the bridge I took one final wrong turn before joining the throngs of cyclists slowly crossing the bridge on the exclusive cycleway alongside the main road. The bridge was amazing but the traffic was hectic to say the least. Pedestrians and inexperienced cyclists are far more dangerous than cars on the road as they are so unpredictable and here you had both trying to share a narrow two bike wide path. With bikes going in both directions there was no room to overtake or stop but this didn’t stop people doing so at random times to take photos, chat, or probably simply to get in my way. I cycled across without stopping and was glad to be safe on the far side and in the city of San Francisco. After taking a couple of photos my first task was to find an In N Out burger – I’d been craving one almost since the last time I was here back in 2003, again I wasn’t disappointed, my burger was very tasty but later on when I found out about the “secret menu” with Animal fries and Quad burgers, I wanted to go back again.

Made it to San Francisco

This was as heavy as the mist got

Chilling with friends in Delores Park

At this point I felt comfortable putting gin the miles, so there was no need to get back on the road immediately, instead I spent a three days chilling and hanging out with friends in San Fran. After a few strangely civilized beers with my RAGBRAI friend Terry from Chicago, I met up with Aaron, another roundabout RAGBRAI connection and my host for my first night in San Francisco. Aaron’s an ex-college and minor league baseball player; it’s interesting to hear how hard it is to make it in a sport that on the face of it seems so simple. The dark side of it is there though, the suspicion of widespread drug taking sometimes being the “extra 10 yards” you need on a hit to make it in the big leagues.  Our night out started with delicious cheap tacos, progressed to wicked margaritas in a cool bar with cool company and end with a delicious “healthy” Chinese, I could get used to San Fran. Along the way I had the most random meeting of the trip so far, bumping into an old Water Polo friend – Vanessa – in the only bar I visited in a city in which I’d no idea she lived! The rest of my time in San Fran flew by catching up with more Water Polo friends, cycling up, and down, the steeping road in the city, dining on a rooftop overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and planning out the final leg of my trip.

Brixton in the heart of San Francisco

The polo girls followed my from the wedding

The Legion of Honour, San Francisco

San Francisco Beaches in the early morning

After 3 days in the city it’s time for me to jump back on the bike and start the last leg to the city of angels. Riding out of San Fran in the early morning, the mist clings to the coast, but it’s remarkable that I’ve spent 3 days in glorious sunshine here; it’s normally covered in fog! The ride out hugs the coastline high above the ocean and gives fantastic views of both the ocean and the city. Soon I’m out in the open again and cruising past fields, scrub and the open ocean. Overpriced, under-nourishing organic food gives way to cheap, hearty, filling Mexican tacquerias feeding a multitude of types, including the odd local rider out for a spin. As the evening approaches I roll along the promenade of Santa Cruz past surfers catching waves, dolphins and sea otters playing in the kelp and thousands of migrating shearwaters. Further round the bay I set up camp and engage in a little body-surfing in the now warm Atlantic with nobody but a playful seal for company. At a bar I manage to enhance my vocabulary whilst chatting to a huge security guy downing Tequila halfway through his shift. He describes his life as “scribbly” – a life spent wandering outside and across the lines.

Santa Cruz Beaches

A lone Pelican chilling out at Moss Landing

Riding along San Andreas Drive, you cannot help but be reminded of the fragility of the region, an earthquake will hit, it’s just a question of when, but somehow we’re able to forget this. Cycle tracks zig-zag across the busy highway passing through dry prairie with squirrels scurrying out of my way, and then direct me through spooky, mist-clad, fields tended by huge teams of Hispanic manual workers, people who form the bedrock of the hugely affluent Garden State. Back on Highway 1, a huge troop of California Sealions have taken over a dock at Moss Landing, originally intended for boats, and are making a hell of a racquet whilst a Japanese film crew focusses on a pair of Sea Otters that a playfully feeding by diving for and then smashing clams together right in front of them. Further out in the bay there are more Otters, pelicans, egrets, herons and other wading birds; I find it hard to drag myself away, but after an hour watching I must press on. 

The Cypress Forests of 17 mile Drive

On down the coast I hit Seaside, with pretty but stern girls running along the promenade (people generally seem less friendly now). Harbour Seals lie sunbathing, balanced like statues on the odd protruding rock and the wind gets up as I head out to the headland. Turning the corner I head down 17-mile drive, free for bikes but a toll road for cars. The road winds past exclusive golf courses (such as Pebble Beach) tended by healthy looking dear and played by fat men driving golf buggies. Big houses, fast cars and high hedges give the impression of foreboding rather than beauty and to be honest I’m glad to be back on Highway 1 heading up into Big Sur. The hills start immediately but the ocean is obscured by the afternoon fog. Camping in the forest I decide to ride out for dinner and end up riding up a 1000ft hill in the dark only to find the deli closed 5 minutes ago, I had to make do with sandwiches and hope for better in the morning.

Big Sur

Big Sur should be the last big hills of the ride and it’s time for me to put them behind me, especially as I have a long 118 mile day ahead of me to reach Pismo Beach and the welcoming house of Collette, a friend’s mother, and her partner. The road here is again narrow, passing steep cliffs and precarious bridges as it winds from cove to cove. The fog lifts just enough to see the stunning waterfall spilling out into the surf at Julia Pfeiffer State Park.

Water meets Surf at Julia Pfeiffer State Park

Nature relieving herself into the Pacific

Highway 1 hugs the coast through Big Sur

I catch a guy who, at 49, has cycled the road too many times to remember, but he’s back again as he loves it so much. He’s able to describe each of the coming climbs in detail and reassures me that the road will flatten out with a tail wind in about 20 miles time. Over the last of the climbs I pass a couple adding layers for the descent, I’m still in shorts and singlet, maybe there’s still a bit of the British weather left in my bones! On the way into Pismo I stop to check out the huge elephant seals (and the adults were away fishing in Alaska) and ride past the 1^st of seven sisters at Morro Bay (a conical shaped hill towering above the surrounding march). Riding out of San Luis Obispo I pass a guy who appears to shout after me, I’m rushing to find somewhere to shelter for a 5pm interview so power on oblivious. When I eventually stop, Larry – Collette’s partner – finally catches me up, apparently I wasn’t hard to spot but was running an hour or two early… Larry & Collette were great hosts, plying me with wine, beer, more steak than even I could eat and great conversation into the early hours of the morning.

Elephant Seals at Piedras Blancas

A squirrel surveys the scene at Piedras Blancas

The day after the night before is always hard and this was no exception. Now, instead of the growing euphoria I had approaching the Pacific, I was beginning to feel sad that, with 3 short days left, my ride was almost over and anxious about what comes next. Motivation is hard to come by and I let a Canadian, cycling from Vancouver to Mexico, drag me up the only major hill of the day. The coast is murky again and the only highlight was spotting a beautiful cream coloured owl roosting in a tree by the road, however, once I’d returned with my camera, it had scuttled off. I try to find things to fill my time but instead just keep grinding out the miles, especially when I found 4 jersey riders to race with riding out of Santa Barbara, briefly providing me with motivation to hammer it rather than cruise along. 

Steve after we took another wrong turn at Ventura Beach

I was in danger of reaching LA a day early until I met Steve on the bike paths by Ventura Beach. He persuades me to grab lunch and chill out for the rest of the day. Steve’s riding to get fit, largely for his 2 kids – he decided he needed a challenge to motivate him and is riding from San Francisco to San Diego in 2/3 weeks having only started training 8 weeks ago. It’s a pretty impressive achievement and shows what a determined mind can do. He’s wildly unprepared, both physically and in terms of his bike – he had no spare tubes and was riding with tyres at about 30psi (mine are at about 90). He’s living a full life already though and always somehow found a way to muddle through, and here he is doing exactly the same. Riding back to the campsite after dinner we have to cross a bridge covered in spider’s webs, by the time I stop my bike has collected several large, luminous garden spiders and I’m covered in their webs.

Garden Spiders on my bike after a night ride across a bridge

For my last day’s ride I find the best donut shop so far – Spudnuts in Oxnard, every donut conceivable, I could have eaten one of each but instead settle for a light breakfast of 4 and a coffee. Highway 1 hugs the coast at the foot of the Santa Monica Mountains. It’s Sunday so a fair few jersey riders are out, I use them as motivation, letting them drag me up hills on their skinny bikes and see them look back in disbelief that I’m still there at the top. RVs dominate the roads and campsites and surfers share the waves with playful seals. Malibu goes on for miles (27 I think), there’s certainly a lot of money here, but not a lot of community if you have to drive 10 miles to find a shop. 

5,850 miles later

I stop at the LA City Limit, set in scrubland by the ocean, to take a couple photos but feel no euphoria; I’m loathe to finish at all. At Santa Monica I switch onto the bike paths sharing them with the beach types on rollerblades and laidback cruiser bikes. Eventually I make my way through Venice Beach markets, I’ve cycled 5,850 miles to get here and it feels weird amongst all the tourists who’ve flown in. Suddenly I spot a stall collecting money to provide free food for the homeless, a guy is out in the path asking for contributions, as I approach he changes his tune and instead offers me a free lunch; damn I must look good right now!

Putting a brave face on it, but to be honest I didn't want to finish

Hollywood!

I’ve some time to kill before meeting up with Valerie, my host in LA, so I go for a dip in the ocean, cruise through Beverley Hills and Hollywood and eventually find myself climbing Observatory Hill as the sun sets over the mountains behind. But every good thing has to come to an end, and as night falls I ride into North Hollywood and park the bike for the last time, swap cycling shorts for boxers and head out on the town for some low key celebratory beers with a bunch of budding LA actors & actresses. Over the next 2 days I took a trip to the baseball, listened to a normal Karaoke night in a bar that was better than any talent show I’ve ever seen on TV and read the script for an Inbetweeners audition (hope my English accent did the trick on that one).

Watching the baseball with the only Ranger at the Angels stadium

Great tip for the day

Bye Bye North America, you’ve welcomed me and I’ve loved my time here, but unfortunately you only give me 90 days on my VISA and I used 89 of them, so it really is time to move on. Bring on another summer in the Southern Hemisphere.

The Sunsets over Hollywood and my ride across America

Thanks to all those who have already sponsored me and contributed to the North Staffs Adventure Playground - I'm hoping to hit 1000 pounds so please donate using the following link:

http://www.justgiving.com/BigRedOnABike