It Gets Hilly

September 30, 2014

Monterey to Big Sur

I was hoping for another cool start to the day but there wasn’t much fog. That was a little worrisome. I knew it was supposed to heat up later in the week but I didn’t want it to start yet. Oh well. I’ll be right along the ocean so shouldn’t be a problem.

So the day started with a short steep climb that had me sweating and made me feel like I had three flat tires. I’d tell myself to do 10 cranks and I could stop to rest. Kept doing that, although I cheated a little and sometimes did 15 cranks. Ugh. Later I thought that I may have left the parking brake on because it wasn't *that* steep.

At the top, it was on to Highway 1. Highway 1 rest of the way, baby. No other turns except into campgrounds. Navigation is easy now.

It was a fast steep drop with lots of traffic into Carmel. I did not like it, even though there was a more than adequate shoulder and I like going fast downhill. I guess it was the morning traffic that detracted from the experience. Stopped for second breakfast and to pick up provisions, then continued down the road. Nice shoulder for quite a while, and then there wasn’t. Have to get used to that though. Parts of this road have no shoulder at all.

When I hit Garrapata State Park I spotted some whale spouts. I pointed them out to a couple of tourists from Sweden who stopped near me. They were thrilled to see them. Those whales kept me company for quite a while heading south.

When you reach the iconic Bixby Bridge you have to stop there to admire it. But while you’re doing that you’re looking at the huge open hill beyond it. Gulp. But here’s where a nice thing happened. After my requisite photo ops I had to wait for traffic to clear so I could make a left turn back onto the road. A minivan full of tourists stopped and waited for me. I couldn’t believe it, but then just went. They drove slowly behind me so I could enjoy riding across this beautiful bridge. I felt like they were protecting my back. I gave them a big wave when they passed me on the other side. They waved back. Then miracle of miracles there was a tailwind pushing me up the hill. No sweat.

I rolled into the pullout at the top of the Bixby hill — merely to take photos, of course — and there further south I could see Pt. Sur. That lifted my spirits a lot. That’s when I knew I could make it to Big Sur that day. I admit it, I got really tired and sometimes discouraged. I can't believe I'm doing this. But little moments like that helped a lot. So did the thumbs-up from several people passing in cars. The tailwinds near Andrew Molera State Park helped a lot too. That's when I said, I can't believe I'm doing this!

During one of my many other little rest stops I saw a couple of cyclists coming up. I put out my thumb for a lift, which they declined to do. That’s how I met Chuck and Stefan. Chuck was brown from three months on the road since DC. Stefan was very pink and had only a week to ride in America before returning to Germany. They met on the road and were riding together for a while as one does. They were also heading to Big Sur for the night. As the day went on I saw many more touring cyclists. So many that I started to think there might not be a spot for me in the hiker/biker sites at the Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park campground. Didn’t have to worry as it turned out. Chuck was there and welcomed me like an old friend. Stefan was not camping so paid $250 for a room at the lodge. Tony was there too — he had given me a cheery hello as he passed me earlier in the day. There were a couple of gals there too but neither was in a chatty mood. Which is all right. You get tired of answering the same questions all the time, even from fellow cyclists. Later on Matt showed up, and then Chris from Holland. Julian stole in late in the night and we met in the morning.

Chuck is chatty, as he’ll be the first to admit. He said he thought people would remember him better by calling him Chatty Chuck, but it turns out most people on the road refer to him as the old guy on the yellow bike.

Tony forgot his tent poles for the first time in 25 years of touring, so he made an ingenious contraption with a redwood stick, a post, and some bungees to hold up his tent. He was riding a bike with 29” knobbies so he could do some dirt roads. Today he turned on to the old Coast Road at Bixby Bridge and rode that before rejoining Hwy 1 to Big Sur.

Those two had me laughing like crazy. We shared war stories and compared gear. It was a happy time for me to feel part of this moving party known as bike touring.

Tony picked up some beers from the store and I gratefully celebrated my hard day. It was the best beer I ever had in my whole life. I don’t drink much any more so I was a cheap date. I had a little trouble negotiating the purchase of shower tokens. When I was successful with that I found the shower had one temperature, very hot, and one pressure, high. I paid for two tokens for 10 minutes. Longest 10 minutes of my life. Took three minutes to clean and seven minutes of shower massage.

I was in my sleeping bag at 730pm. During the night it got quite cool and I put on a good portion of my clothes and the silk bag liner. My fleece jacket was my pillow. Never sleep well the first night on the ground but that was expected. Spending a rest day here tomorrow thank goodness.

Heading up the hill from Monterey, looking back towards the bay.

A short bike path gets you from the road to Highway 1 and on to Carmel and points south.

Next stop Big Sur. It won't be flat again for a few days. And little did I know it would be the last of the cooling marine layer I'd see.

Garrapata State Park. Out near those rocks I spotted multiple whale spouts. They were also headed south so we kept each other company for a while.

I have no idea where this is. There's a lot of this along the way.

A side of Bixby Bridge you don't often see. I've been down below on the path along Bixby Creek to Bixby Beach.

Looking back from the top of the hill past Bixby.

And a few steps south from the previous spot you see Pt. Sur in the distance. That's when I knew I'd make it to the town of Big Sur that night. It's the little things.

Little Sur River where it doesn't make it through the dunes to the ocean. I stopped for lunch here. I watched a coyote cross the beach from way on left outside the frame, trot to the water, drink then follow the river a ways. I lost sight of it. It's one of those black dots out there.

In the distance is a rock mountain. Close in is a sand dune. More geology.

Redwoods again! Must be near Big Sur, yessir.

Big Sur River from the bike/ped bridge to the hiker/biker campsites in Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park.

Today's ride: 31 miles (50 km)
Total: 94 miles (151 km)

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