O’er The Land Of The Free, My Thanks To Thee

I found myself in Eureka, CA on a bright crisp morning leaving Arcata. Home to the funkiest fairytale buildings, they almost look edible. From here we would leave the coast for a while and make our way inland and thankfully back to the warmth away from the brisk coastline.

At a lunch stop in the charming town of Ferndale me and Eal both ordered the Gardenburger, it was incredible. The most perfect sautéed tomatoes and onions with a pesto spread on the underside of the bun. Thinking of the burger joint in Fargo with Flavia, this cafe should advertise its veggie options as “So good meat eaters will choose them.”

The heat came straight after lunch, back to shorts and short sleeve jersey. We entered the Avenue of Giants early evening, a 25+ mile stretch of quiet redwood highway, amazeballs. Hiker/biker camping in the state park was busy again, Eal had given me all coins for the deposit packet which I then found made it too fat to fit in the deposit box, I left it by the office instead.

I left early the next morning having agreed a destination with Eal, I generally wake up early and Eal likes to get trucking later so recently when the directions have been straight forward we have been riding separately for most of the day. To make things simpler for myself I stuck with the 101 which was shouldered well if a little busy. Mornings are chilly but by 10am I am stood by the road, bike perched on a sign, stripping down to my kecks and fishing out shorter attire from my bags. Very amusing for the passing cars to see my pasty white torso, especially for the ones that slow down, you’ve seen it all before love.

The first few town stops still had a major hippie invasion with the aforementioned marijuana harvest about to go down, most were friendly but some characters seemed shady looking to blend in and make a quick score. I wasn’t very comfortable leaving my bike outside stores with my flimsy lock and had to be quick with transactions. One guy told me he would ‘watch’ my bike before I went to get a drink, he was friendly enough and we talked a while. He was making his way down to San Diego and asked if I could spare any money for food. I happily gave him all the shrapnel weight out of my wallet. Not long left in the country and I probably wont shift those coins. He was buzzing, nay bother lad.

I was going to have lunch in the town of Leggit, on arrival I found the gas stations and cafes all shutdown so had to make do with P+J sanga’s before tackling the 2 huge climbs. I love climbing when its like this though, short steep climbs tend to irritate me but I find great peace of mind in these long traversing pinches of several thousand feet. Sweaty work though, looked like I had taken part in a 1 man wet T shirt comp. After the second of the big climbs I was thrown out onto the coastline again to chilling sea air, its cold magnified by the sweat on my skin. Jacket on I located the hiker/biker campspot on a beach cliff edge. Eal turned up shortly after, pitched, ate. Sleeping that night I kept waking thinking I was being swallowed into the sea. If you imagine the foot of my tent was sloped down towards the waves 50 feet below which crashed loud as thunder. Yikes.

The light was amazing breaking camp, hitting out over my shoulder as it rose from the east (Sun sets in the West for those who forget ;-)…) I had to remember to look back now and again. I noticed what I thought was a cat on the roadside up ahead, I screeched on my breaks when I realised there would be no cats knocking about in this area. It was twice the size of a domestic with an almost leopard like coat. I looked it in the eye whilst trying to unzip my bag and grab the camera, when it shot like a bolt into the bush. I later found it was a little lynx which are present around here. Look them up, incredible animal, no pictures so if you want to see one in the flesh you will just have to come out and ride for yourself.

The morning was glorious the afternoon not so much. Deep fog rolled in which made certain stretches of narrow road and bridges quite scary with the local log trucks seemingly in a rush to make deadlines. Then some brutal switchback climbs did their best to beat my seasoned yet tired limbs. We rolled up to a KOA camp, normally ignore because of high prices but being on the coast this one offered a biker rate to compete with state parks, magical and overdue hot shower followed by a heart warming gesture by an old couple who we talked with by the front office on arrival. They had sent a worker on a golf cart to our plot with an envelope wishing us well and $20, the cost of our camp. No signal and I needed to make some calls so had to trek in foggy darkness away from the campground where I was told reception was stronger, I lost count of how many times I tripped over branches but made it back safe as houses.

Fog seems to be set in for good at the moment, leaving camp again to the same old narrow roads and close shaves with traffic. I really wasn’t feeling the ride. Eal was up ahead an neither had breakfast so I was surprised to see he had passed up the first cafe a few miles in, I continued expecting him to be by the next one, he wasn’t so I stopped anyway hoping the sun might come up and burn through a little. It still hadn’t made much impression by the time I left so up and over the coastal bluffs I went, only escaping the suffocating cloud when I rose above them onto a high lookout point.

Scary descents followed back into fog, we were joined at camp that evening by Tim from Maine, and older guy who I had seen at breakfast. He had put down 100 miles that day in what was incredibly tough terrain, kudos.

Managing to scout out coffee and a cooked breakfast was essential on yet another foggy bone chilling morning. This would be the last days riding in the USA, destination for the evening was with John & Jessi, friends of Flavia’s in San Francisco. Judging by surroundings it was hard to see that is where we would end up. The riding was pretty glum, not a thing to look at accept cardboard brown grass with annoying short hump climbs and rough road that made riding feel like I was treading water. Mentally I was beat this morning, possibly a little fatigued and under-slept. Whatever it was I stopped for second breakfast just 15 miles in looking for and answer in the bottom of a coffee cup which was shortly followed by a pesto twist from the adjoining bakery. Somewhere between there, grabbing some wifi and just chilling out contemplating the last few months riding across the USA again I hopped back on my bike and started riding. I’ve road bikes long enough to know the road will take care of the rest and it did! The sun came out and the town of Point Reyes made for a delightful lunch stopover. In the afternoon me and Eal rode together for the last stretch, something we haven’t done for a while.

Drawing ever close to San Fran, in Marin county traffic picked up, stop signs every 50 yards made for slow progress. We meandered along several bike paths happily acknowledging our recent milestone just as the golden gate bridge came into view. Crossing it was thrilling, the wind, bustling traffic, outlook over the bay, fog, a movie script ending. We navigated toward downtown as I pedalled with phone on google-maps in one hand as the Garmin wasn’t playing nice. John had told us he would be taking part in a Critical Mass bike ride and we could meet at his apartment afterwards  Well we rode right into the ride, a congregation of hundreds of cyclists on this a special anniversary for the event which literally takes over the streets grinding cars to a halt. The most surreal, bizarre yet perfect end to the USA tour.

We had a few days at J & J’s  to organise bikes, bags, Auckland accommodation and just generally rest the legs and soak in our last few days in the Northern Hemisphere. It was a very retrospective time, I thought about all the wonderful people I had stayed with, the incredible generosity and hospitality afforded to me once again. The bad towns to the good towns, the baron places to the beautiful vistas. From Massachusetts to California via a whole heap of incredible summer and not forgetting meeting Flavia, my absolute highlight of the ride and another friend I will cherish dearly until we next meet, which I am already excited for, the same goes for Joe C Meyer and Coop! Days on the bike are so highly concentrated with physical and mental exertion whether it be my poor thighs sluggin’ up a hill or my eyes taking a million pictures with every blink in each new town or landscape. You can sometimes forget to take a step back and soak it in. That’s why afterwards I find experiences like this are best shared.

Toodle-pip USA! I’ll be back again or maybe you can come visit me?

Pacific Coasting

After hopping off the train at Kelso we road a short 20 miles that evening to a campground, it was dead, the water was not drinkable and I didn’t bother with a shower, still feeling down after Seattle I slid into my tent early and went to sleep, not an easy night. The next day would see us finally hit the coast in the town of Astoria. The place has lots of history particularly in film, being the location of The Goonies, Free Willy and a long list of others. Around the docks in town you can find hordes of Sea Lions chilling out making their goofy sounds, great watching. I also realised how difficult it is to tell Seals and Sea lions apart. The easiest way to know is if they have ear holes or ear flaps, the latter being a Sea Lion like the lad featured in my picture below. There all Pinnipeds regardless.

The salt in the cold sea air instantly triggered thoughts of home, fish & chips for lunch, no mushy peas unfortunately. The route took us inland slightly before bringing us back out into a beach town a mile away from the campground for the evening so we decided to hang around in town a while before finishing up for the night. After a hot shower I sat in the steamy room for a good 30 minutes with my phone plugged in so that I could get some charge to make calls.


We emerged from our tents tents and checked the breakfast situation the next morning on the maps. Cannon Beach wasn’t too far away so we could ride until then. It was a very well pointed postcard town, I had the best pastry breakfast, bear claw + dohnut. The towns main attraction was the rock haystacks that stood out in the sea, after making our way down some steep hills for beach access I took my shoes off and waded along the sand to get a closer picture.

Magnificent riding all day, just how I had remembered from my days riding on the Oregon coast previously. Steep climbing up high onto the cliffs always rewarded by stunning overlooks. We ended the ride in Pacific City, almost a carbon copy town of Cannon beach. Spectacular sunset sat outside a small brewery whilst playing fetch with a dog. Lifes a beach.

From Pacific to Newport the pattern was much the same, blessed with tailwinds and sunshine. Impossibly perched homes on top of rugged cliff-tops, the waves crashed up a hundred feet with every swell, simply epic riding and clear enough to pretend you could see Japan.

The Oregon state parks along the coast are great, all $5 for bikers with a guaranteed spot and hot showers. By the time we had arrived in Newport hit the brewery and made our way to the park a heavy sea fog had rolled in. Cold, damp night ahead. A guy pitched next to us came over to let us know he was getting up at 4am for work and apologised in advance in-case he woke us up, strange. Too bad for him some kids disco that night raged on until around 10, the kids sliding on there knees type. He was trying to go for kip around 8pm, hard lines pal.

Super cold morning with the fog still lurking around. Looking at a 2-3 day plan on the maps to see what towns line up it was nice to find today would be a short 45 miles to Florence. A special place for me, that’s where I finished the TransAm. So I raced on ahead so I had some time to spend in the nice historic district.

I had lunch at a small bakery then went to the cosiest coffee shop right on the river to get some long overdue blog action going. Eal found me several hours later as the heart palpitations from too much caffeine began to kick. We rolled up the road a few miles to another state park biker spot amongst a huge circle off trees. Later that evening we were joined by and older guy from Maine and an Irish guy who I think was pretty drunk, unless he was just generally bleary. Camp notices mentioned a recent bear in the park so no food in tents, in the middle of the night some mammal snagged itself on my rear tent rope tugging it downwards, not bear sized though, more like fat raccoon  Still had me eyes wide open for a good hour with held breath before I nodded off again.

Florence Flashback #1