The Coast

All rides must start somewhere. To get to the start of this ride, I took the BART train to Daly City.

On the train platform, you can see my weapon of choice. Compared to the 1.75" tire, disk brake, and pannier-sporting machines I was to run into 110 miles later, this bike was a poor choice. However, this bike is named "the Red Menace." And that makes all the difference in the world.

Speaking of "the world," here is a picture of a small portion of the world that was visible from my ride:

If you think gas is expensive, the small snack pictured below cost $7.75. And it is nowhere close to being a gallon! Even with the refill on the coffee, I bet it would all fit into my one liter bottle with room to spare. But I did manage to crank out quite a few miles from that fill-up.

I had never see a ghost bike before in real life. Now I have. 

Perhaps it is good to be reminded of the fragility of life at the outset of a long trip.

This is a map of the campground I stayed at in Monterey. I must have been tired because I couldn't find the hiker/biker spots. So I took a picture of the map to consult as I wandered, lost. Eventually, I found my spot. And a lot of bikes better suited to my ride than "the Red Menace."

This is where the joke about Kabuki brand sunscreen goes. Except, I don't have a joke. Just a punchline.

The next two pictures showed me a flaw in Facebook's picture preview feature. Both of these panoramas were previewed with a cropped-to-standard-dimensions image that looked completely stupid. As with widescreen videos, letterbox is the way to go! 

Here, I'm thinking I must have died. Because I was in heaven.

And here.

And again here.

This next picture is one of my favorites. It is Hwy 1 leaving San Simeon Village. I was riding into the rising sun, which made for a less than ideal riding experience. But the photo conveys the sense of quiet, easy, coastal miles that I had felt the night before. Full moon, sound of waves coming from "just over there," flat well-paved road, minimal traffic, cool enough to turn the cranks with ease, gentle breezes. I wish those few hours could have continued.

The moss covered trees just south of Cambria were a treat.

San Luis Obispo was the end of the line for me. Instead of getting on Amtrak's Pacific Surfliner, perhaps I should have walked into this house and made myself at home. Zoom in on the word arching above the door.