a story of a bike

So for those of you who are curious what a leisurely bike ride down the Pacific Coast looks like, here it is.

Yes, this is a map of a Pacific Coast bike trip.

It represents over 2,200 miles of bike riding; over 200 hours of sitting on a leather, Brooks seat.  Over a week in the rain.  Over 49 days of traveling.  Over 40 days of putting on cold, damp clothes.  Over 45 days of thinking obsessively about eating a pack of Rolos.  Over 1 eat-shit fall on the PCH.  Over 42 days of sleeping outside, under stars or on beaches or both.  Over 5 times of being confused as a homeless person (although technically I don’t have a home right now).  Over 10 cans of sardines or anchovies.  Over 0 haircuts and 0 times shaving.  Over 1 big breakdown and 1 flat tire.  Over 1 summer.

And yes you can even click on image and you’ll be able to zoom in / zoom out, check out where I stayed, see sites I passed through and stuff.  Knock yourself out.  And scene.

The Finish Line.

Day 49.

June.

July.

August.

Some guy wanted to ride with me through LA.  I let him ride for about 20 miles.  He was actually pretty cool.  Here he is.  The homage.

Day 43.  I was supposed to camp in Oceano.  But I got there and they told me they no longer let bikers stay there.  Something about too many homeless staying up in their campgrounds and me looking dirty.  Blah blah blah.  55 miles.  It was late and the day was hard so I gave up and found a motel.  Who’s homeless now?

Day 44.  Gaviota.  A long day with few towns.  Actually, really only one.  Lompoc.  Sister city to Cheyenne.  (Bowser?)  80 miles.  Another hard day over a hill and then another with unkind wind.  Thank God for Round Table Pizza.

Day 45.  Through Santa Barbara to Carpenteria.  50 miles.  Santa Barbara was celebrating something called Fiesta Days (?)–which meant the bike lanes were filled with men on horses and the horses filled the lanes with their crap and so my bike slipped around a lot.  But I ended on a beach.

Day 46.  From Santa Barbara to just north of Malibu, a place called Mugu Point.  50 miles.  And my first flat.  This is a picture of my favorite sock.  It’s a shark sock.  I’ve worn it for 40 days now.

Day 47.  Through Los Angeles.  85 miles.  It’s flat now and so easier to go fast, but hard to find places to stay.  They all think I’m homeless.  Ended up in a motel in Long Beach.  It was strange seeing so many people.

Day 48.  To Encinitas.  A ride through Camp Pendleton where the men with machine guns and tanks looked at the guy on a bike all sorts of strange.  Then, my last night outside.  Tomorrow, past San Diego, to a little place called Mehico.  The finish line.

The other day I stopped for lunch at a thai restaurant.  A little girl came up to me and said, hi.  We started talking to each other.  Until her mother came up and grabbed her by her hand and dragged her away.  Don’t talk to that man, she said as she pulled her arm.  I waved bye; she didn’t wave back.

Somewhere in Santa Barbara.

Always Mexican food…

Sometimes sardines…

Often, who knows what…

One of my favorite snacks on this trip.  Sardines.  You just have to be a little hungry.

Here’s how it works.  Pop some fish into your mouth…

… then follow with a saltine …

… and a swig of beer …

… swallow …

Done.

Day 37.  In San Francisco.  Sometime in July.

Coming soon.  August.