The Last Days

As we approached our destination, two things happened.  One we fell further into the darkness that is an internet and cell phone signal free society belongs and second, our minds and bodies began to succumb to the seemingly endless drilling of the days.  We would wake into a cold chill and begin to pack our things, as Sandra packed I would cook breakfast almost always consisting of 3 eggs and black coffee.  Once done with breakfast tent and things packed and cleaned we would head off for a 5 - 7 hour bike.  Time along the journey to stop and sightsee was limited to that which one could discern from the saddle of your bike.  For each day we were greeted with an endless buffet of 7-8 percent grades one after the other in brutal succession, which slowed our progress to a crawl.  Upon arrival at camp we would set camp, cook and have a shower if one was available.  Showers came in various states of appearance, the best of which were not much different than home.  The worst of the showers would fit right into a gulag in Siberia.  Most took quarters to operate which was a new concept to me.  So as we began to tire of the day to day rhythm of the trip we found ourselves searching desperately for any type of connection to the outside world.  It was not until we were less than 20 miles from San Fran that we picked up a strong cell signal.  All that taken together my blog posts came to a halt and so I end the trip with one post summarizing the whole.

The experience was a bit overwhelming in terms of the whole scale of the event.  What really surprised me is not the scenery we encountered but the people.  The different kinds of people doing things in wholly contrasting ways, yet achieving the same goal.  I loved the non-committal flow of meeting a few people having lunch dinner or breakfast with them, then moving off...maybe you saw them again maybe not.  We were not however particularly enchanted by the route, given its high accolades by so many people.  We found it to be a bit monotonous with little to no culture, that is towns to stop and take a break.  We spoke to a couple whom had been biking all over the world and they had the same thought, their expectations were not in line with reality.  After some discussion we came to the conclusion that Europe with it many small towns each relatively close to the other with deep culture would make a much better biking destination.  

The only time we actually touched the Pacific...it was COLD!

Sandra powering up several miles of 8% grade alongside the Pacific Ocean. 

Nice spot for lunch

Nice spot for lunch

Can you find Sandra??

Remember this fascinating fill-in for a spoke!

Leaving our last campsite of the journey. 

Finally arrival in SF!

A car a real car!

Disassembling our bikes and packing them the day we arrived in SF

   

EMP Kid of the Day Karen

Each day for our bike ride through Oregon and California I pick one kid from the EMP program and dedicate the day to them.  Also I dedicate on photo from the trip to that child.  Today the EMP Kid of the day is Karen!

www.elasticmindproject.org

Karen has been with the EMP program for three years and has managed to overcome his shyness and insecurity when faced with new situations. Today she is able to speak with more confidence and enjoy her experiences with the classmates in a full and fun manner.


Photo of the day dedicated to Karen

levels of complexity

On this trip I have seen so many different modes of travel, all in essence achieving the same goal.  On one hand we see the upper limit of complexity with trucks hauling around enormous trailers, fit with every luxury one might desire.  We see them navigating these beasts with much effort and at times loosing their temper over the multitude of complexities which are required in the upkeep of such items.  All this just so they can keep the luxuries of life close by, honesty nothing wrong with that, yet there is indeed a price for everything.  That pice includes for most a lifetime of work to save for the RV and heavy duty truck to hull it, years of service at a company to accumulate enough vacation or waiting 30 - 40 years for retirement. I think that is one way of doing it and one day I would like to experience that.   

Yet on the lower end of complexity, we met an 80 year man who was biking to SF, on a $79 bike he bought in Portland.  Instead of $800 of fancy bike panniers he was hauling a suitcase in which he had attached large wheels.  In SF he will give the bike away, pack the wheels in the suitcase and put the few items he has in the suitcase and fly away.  He is in fact achieving the same result as those spending 1000x more in time and money.  He is living his dreams without barriers, without excuses. 

I can not pass judgement on either mode, as they are both awesome ways of traveling each with its own inherent benefits. Yet I can say the limits we apply to ourselves are often created by the social circles we mingle in or by our own reservations and fears.  We also need to take care of our bodies as if we do we can make them work throughout our lives and if we decide at 70 to bike across Europe on a $79 bike we could.  And that little voice in your head that you are probably hearing right now, is an excuse, it is only valid if you decide to listen.      

Navigating you luxury RV vs 80 year old with $79 bike and suitcase with wheels.
Different complexity same result. 

We had a couple of these bad boys to cross before coming to the coast. 

Heading up a 7%+ grade.

Lunch on the coast with Michael from Switzerland.  He is traveling from Vancouver to San Fran.

I'll have peanut butter with my honey!

EMP Kid of the Day Cindy

Each day for our bike ride through Oregon and California I pick one kid from the EMP program and dedicate the day to them.  Also I dedicate on photo from the trip to that child.  Today the EMP Kid of the day is Cindy!

www.elasticmindproject.org

Cindy has been with the EMP program since the start and is one of the shyest children in the group.  But the shyness hides great potential, as she always excels at the class assignments.  Cindy usually needs some encouragement to take that first step into a new venture but once off she always shows great enthusiasm.

Photo of the day dedicated to Cindy:

California Coast 

vibrations and groovy ways

 

Our travels today have taken us to a yet new village of gypsies and fairies all tucked away into a tavern on the raod.  A tavern it would be had we been travelers of yore, yet as it is not to be this place is a hostel.  We are long on the road and the warm inviting atmosphere beckons us in.  This home come travelers haven, is wrapped in warm fabric outlined with antique wood, gone amber from years of age.  Upon the floors lay rugs of every esthetic with chairs and couches as comfortable as your mothers womb.  All this was lit in the amber glow of dimmed lights, just so you could make out the figures moving about, but no so to discern any particular mark upon them.  It was as if a gauze hung in the air soaking the light in a dream come to life. The whispers and soft movements calmed my senses and I descended into one of the awaiting chairs.  It cradled my body and the warm heat of this place slowed my heart.  I watched the non-descript forms move about, their voices slurred together, my attention was elsewhere.  Yet as I allowed myself to direct my attention to them, I was moved by the words that were spoken, and my mind became buffeted as if by the waves of this tumultuous coast. I heard talk  of vibrations, of oras and magical spells, all floating about in the obfuscating haze of a certain dis-cognition of reality.  They spoke in long notes, allowing them to  fade in song to fill the silence between them as if they were filing the cracks in a wall with words, so as not to let the truth escape.  All are full of smiles and laughter boiling over in a cauldron of children's dreams, spilling on the floor under the black wood burring stove.  As I sit and listen to this dissident chatter, I am taken back by my distance from them; I am among these people and I palaver and smile among these people, but am I one of them?. It would appear that I am in the house of misfits of society, where all who do not fit, or came with broken parts sojourn to mingle.  You see that one has a broken horn and there over there, its eyes are in backward.  I look inward to the mirror of my own mind, to see myself to examine myself, to find what part of me must be broken or set at an odd angle. Yet from those waters of reflection only a perfect representation is ever to be seen, there is a trick in that, you can never see the true you.

There is a hidden story behind every word. 

 One man, with eyes sunken and cheeks protruding prefaced by the pungent smell of many days on the road, stands in the kitchen. As I make my dinner silently making much haste, he proclaims in whispers with his own small yet kind voice the bitter fact that he has just rode 10 miles with a flat tire.  Can that really be? He then chatters on of animals, his concern is animal life and the danger it might inflict upon him, above all else.  Yet he travels from the north to the south then off across the the continent, has he nothing else to fear? A monkey perhaps?  So on again, his queries are almost all on the animal life and the harm it might inflict upon him in his journeys.  He goes with the boldness of ten men yet concerns himself of snakes and sacred puma attacks in the night. It is just then that I notice all others have left and it is just me and him, he has been here before I arrived and stands there with no reason, holding nothing up and holding nothing down.  A cat waiting outside from whatever may be thrown its way, he waits for any scraps that may be left from the plates that runithover.  I slide the plate his way and he accepts.

Life is waking up and making breakfast with new friends you will never see again.

We stopped for lunch with a view, the somali recommended the Bordeaux '22, we went with the '46 a much better vintage.

Campsite for the night with friends from Spain and Switzerland.