Now....

I stayed in a commercial campground just south of Mendocino and came back this morning to update the ole bloggy. And here I am, sucking down a Hazelnut Latte, munching a chocolate chip cookie, and gearing up for another epic day on the road.

Thanks to all who have left comments or sent me emails!!

Sun sets on Mendocino 

which do you like better? 

My heart again flew... 

In the bike shop visitor's log, the previous visitor was another Greg traveling from Seattle to Cali to the East Coast. I warily looked around for a glitch in the Matrix...  

I also visited the North Coast Brewing Co., home to some of the finest beers I have ever tasted, the best of which was the Old Stock Ale. This beer is aged like a wine, has 12% alcohol, and is bargain priced at $1 per ounce. That's not sarcasm. It was that good...  

Stopped in the town of Fort Bragg, home of this functioning old railroad. I also got another new back tire, as the previous one I got in Eureka had a flat the very next day. This time I got a burly 35cm tire with plenty of thick tread.  

Day 25, Thursday, Westport to Manchester, 25 miles

The views on Highway 1, which started in Leggett, are so divine. The riding, however, is very hectic, with many hills and curves, and often NO shoulder at all, placing you at the mercy of... well... California drivers, many pushing the limits of their vehicles' cornering capabilities, leaving precious little margin for error between I and my maker. Worth it? You bet...

View of my campsite. I spoke to a Native American man who has lived in the area for 70 years, and he says the coast has eroded 50 feet or more in his lifetime. The road shown falling off the cliff used to be the highway here. 

My well earned evening vista, seated in my thermarest lounger at my campsite on Westport Union Landing State Beach, after a long day of cycling up ridiculous hills, the highest of which was the legendary Leggett hill at 2000 feet. 

The elegant erosion of the left coast... 

The chosen fern!! 

On a pit stop at the Espresso Yourself cafe, I met this nice lady on her way to Bellingham, who gave me a good luck stone necklace she had just purchased. Alas, I've no pic...  

Nemesis 3 

nemesis 2 

Day 24, Wednesday, Richardson Grove SP to Westport Union Landing State Beach, 40 miles

Started the day dealing with some nemeses. At times, these trucks and passenger vehicles pass me way too close for comfort. One time last week, a mini van traveling at 60 mph missed me by literally 6 inches. I spend a fair amount of time screaming at drivers and employing creative hand gestures. It never occurs to me that vehicles at times contain large bat-wielding male mammals who can stop and pummel me. But can they run faster than an ungainly gear-laden barge of a bike? Oh...

And then there was this 19 year old German guy, who just may qualify as another 'character' of the road. He rode all the way across the country from Washington DC, having ZERO previous bike experience and zero time spent in the USA. He even rode through a storm of locusts in Nevada. Caught in the act eating cheese slices, ketchup, and wonderbread, his favorite meal.  

I stayed in the beautiful Richardson Grove SP and met a few other bikers. The two on your right are from San Francisco, on a short 5 day jaunt. The one on the left is a recent grad of Iowa state who enlisted in the Airforce, but has 5 months to kill before reporting for duty. 

Only a shadow of myself 

Day 23, Tuesday, Rio Dell to Richardson Grove SP, 55 miles

Today I rode through the Redwoods on the Avenue of Giants, which was generally pleasant but for whatever reason, I wasn't in the mood for stopping or taking pics. So I went wine tasting! This is Nic, my personal wine guide as we perused the many 'fruity, leathery, peppery' blends and varietals of Riverbend Cellars in the tiny town of Myers Flat.

RV bandit

I spent another non-pic-worthy night (rationalization) at Riverside RV park, this time after consulting the police officer of the small town of Rio Dell. Justification: The tent sites in RV sites are frequently afterthoughts. Further rationalization: I left no trace and I left early. Confession: I didn't pay. ~~~ Guilt. Darn Catholic upbringing....

Seconds before the disastrous cattle stampede of Ferndale valley... "Be free Bessie!!" 

Local future rock stars Mary Bonham and John Kilmer pointed me toward the way out of Ferndale time warp. Their music can be found at www.purevolume.com/crossover

RIP 

The creepy Ferndale Cemetary...  

Right before taking this shot, at high volume: "The hunter becomes the hunted!!!" hehehe. The photographer is a common sight in the unbelievably picturesque town of Ferndale.  

As much as Grocery Outlet activates the salivary glands, these fruit stands may do so even more. My favorite is to put a small bag of plums in my handlebar bag and munch on them as I ride, then target practice with the seeds. 

I took another scenic route today, sending me through old towns and sweeping views of the coast. Here is an old church in the town of Loleta. They also had a cheese factory, which was closed for the day by the time I rolled through- goshdang! 

A teary goodbye to my glued tire... the original tire that came on the bike. I also got a new lock since I noticed my other one was inexplicably GONE. I must have left it wrapped around a post somewhere... getting old, man. Another KEY purchase I made was one of those thermarest chairs. They were all out of them, so I bought the display model at a discount.