Bygone Bicyclist

Not to give a plug to Amtrak, because they did ruin my bike’s fork, but the train ride from LA to SF is amazing. It’s the longest distance where a train runs besides a coast (110+ miles) in the US. At lunch time I got to eat cheesecake while watching dolphins play in the ocean. Chad took the same train and we had good times headed to SF. Of all things on my trip, I’m glad I did this rather than flying.

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Assuming things would be as they were, I left at go time. The majority rode together, which would have been nice to do, but it was a hectic and confusing ride (with all kinds of weirdness on bike paths and such), so getting on the road was nice. Many people took the Metro in from Long Beach and got to avoid that headache; a very good idea. With Chris leaving later tonight, we took the chance to get started early with the night. A communal 3/4L of Bulleit and many beers later, not much was to be recalled. I took a ‘Super Shuttle’ to Anaheim to hang out with my friends that were in town. I ended up staying in Anaheim for the next few days.

I started the morning by giving the cue sheet a toss to the wind. Deciding to ride to Mission Beach was a fantastic idea, and I didn’t want to pass on that (as our route didn’t go through there; likely due to the 10 extra miles). Eventually I caught up with the normal route and rode with Crystal for a while. In Oceanside we stopped for a quick bite and chatted with Doug, Chris and Chad for a bit. Lots of hills and headwinds slow the day a bit. Riding through Camp Peddleton was weird. Apparently Bennett got to see a tank crossing the road – weird. Tomorrow is the last ride, 65 miles, and then we are resting.

Begining the day at 4400ft and ending at sea level makes for a fun day. Many climbs and decents lead to a sore day, but a fun one. I rode alone and made a stop in El Cajon for a breakfast at a great bakery. Eventually making my way to the hostel downtown, I did a fair bit of city riding. Lots of neat things to see, and the town was nice.

Aroma of oak, pine and apple fills the day. A simple climb from 112 feet below sea level to 4600 feet above invites restitution, relaxation and revelation. Finally it hits me, what I missed at the beginning, and for some strange reason I’m happy with myself. Perhaps I could have realized sooner, but better late than never they say, right? Julian is famous for apples, which was apparent as I climb the final ascent into town and notice rotting apples strewn about the roadside. While the pie evaded me (despite the suggestion of Californians), the cider was absolutely stellar. Camping under the stars for one last night made me really grasp the fact that this trip is nearly over. We did not camp as much as we were supposed to, but we were taken well care of for sure.