Bygone Bicyclist

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.