Day 19

A bard owl called loudly three times from the tree above us during the night. If it was an omen, it was fortelling the group of folks that pulled in way after dark, made a loud CRUNCH (which could only have been a car hitting something) and proceded to argue about it passionately for some time. I didn't even bother investigating in the morning. My sleeping pad had been my life raft from the creeping puddle that had crept in from underneath me. At least I was high and dry. 

The fog had drifted in and the shadows of the tess stood out starkly against the dull white backdrop. We were in a groove of madrona, and their architecture was far more sporadic than the redwood monoliths.

The other bikers were quicker than us in getting up and out. The hill was on all of our minds, and we wanted a jump on the day,  especially after the camp host came by to chat, making sure to remark on how it was "unrelenting for eight miles! Curves so tight anything longer than sedsn will push you off the road! And steep! A beast of a climb..." though his pot belly seemed to say he had never tried it, or at least for a long time.

But before pushing off we got to talking with a french couple who we had gotten to know last night. Turns out they've been traveling for four months now, aiming for a year, and attempting to live zero waste, recording thier edcapades aaaand interviewing people pushing the way for a zero waste future in all sorts of sectors,  from farming to housing to services. The man showed us the garbage he had produced in those four months. He carried out all with him: a small pocketful with less than a handfull of things. Very impressive. If you can read french, check out their website: banaclichet.com

The sun made its first appearence as we crossed over the south fork of the Eel river and left the 101 for the 1. Started climbing straight away.  But by now, Lluc and I are old hands afy this game. Low gear, steady pace, keep the wheel straight and let the mind wander. The road was great. Smooth pavement, gentle slope, beautiful forest, not too much traffic. I hardly noticed when 8 miles had gone by, and when the road leveled out I said out loud "I'd be shocked if that was it." Turns out it was. We cruised down the outside making hairpin turns on a dime, leaning into each bend in full tuck. Most have been 10 full minutes of downhill. There was another climb up and over Cape Vizcaino, but it was mild and before long we got q climpse of ocean. Came around a corner with a strong breeze and there we were. Felt good to be back on the water after nearly 3 days away from it. Our relationship to the ocean changes every day, the more time we spend near it, but it's hard not to feel unnoticed; It's a big ocean, it's got loads of lost things to think about. Maybe we'll get there.

The 1 was a roller coaster. Another rise and fall around every bend. Lluc and I entertained eachother with drawn-out jokes and made up stories. The sun was in its prime now and it was a good day to be on the bike.

By 2 we were in Fort Bragg and stopped to find a laundromat. We found it, stripped down in-- the bathroom and they everything we had into one big load, and then took and load off, and laid down on the parking lot to eat some nuts, wearing whatever was left (naked under rain gear feels just plain stupid on a hot day). It was a nice long break. I picked up some pasta at the market across the way and duud some daydreaming about dinner.

Rode nearly to Mendocino before making camp at Russian Gulch, a small park underneath a big arching bridge. The campgrounds are clearly winding down for the season and they've stopped manning the kiosk, so we ride right in. Stretching and sunset, the usual routine. Dinner fulfilled my every dream: Linguine with a kale, bell pepper and garlic tomato sauce. Hallelujah.

We realize more each day as we look back upon the ride how much stronger we are physically, now than 50 miles feels le an easy day, hoow much our experience is determined by our mindset. Expecting the worst makes a hill feel easy, thinking of others at home  or otherwise far away makes it feel lonesome and vagrant, thinking of future plans makes the road ahead seem even longer and you lazy for not acting on them and booking all day instead. When the body is working like a well- oiled machine, you realize what a wild animal resides in our skulls...

Tomorrow, a reflection of today with one road and a million ways to live it.