December 17, 2022
Moonstone Beach
Rachael and I have our differences, but we’re quite similar in many ways. One of our similarities is that when something is on our mind that needs discussing with the other we feel some urgency about it and want to blurt it out now, whether the other is in a receptive mood or not. There’s some tension here - Rachael wants to talk over options for dinner on Christmas Eve, but I’ve got my nose in a post and don’t want to lose the thread. I want to talk over my latest brilliant ideas for next spring’s tour of Italy, but she’s engrossed in a book and doesn’t really like planning that far out anyway because it makes her feel constrained.
We’re both working on this, and when we can remember we give each other some warning that there’s incoming flak headed our way. Last week I gave Rachael a heads up about the Italy tour and why I was feeling some urgency about it, and three days later on the drive to Paso Robles she let me know she was ready to talk. That went well, and now we’ve got a framework for the spring tour that I’ll share with you in good time.
This morning Rachael waits until I’ve gotten some coffee into my system before alerting me that there’s something she needs my help on, when I’ve got a minute. There’s no rush though, so I go back to writing up the gripping saga of our being locked out of the house the evening before.
A minute later, she reminds me that she’d still like to talk, when it’s convenient. I finish the sentence I’m on, save my work, and let her know she can fire at will.
Where did you pack the mount to my GoPro?
Uh, oh. I have no idea. I start mentally running through the different containers we brought down with us - panniers, suitcase, duffel bag - and then thoroughly check each one, as well as the places we’ve stashed things here after we arrived. Nothing. It’s not here.
This is so disheartening. We took such care in sorting and packing before we left Portland, but apparently we/I missed this one. Had I thought of it I could have consulted the packing check-off list and seen that it had allegedly been packed in my pannier, but it doesn’t matter now. It’s not there, and it’s not here.
I feel terrible about it, especially because this is such a recurring theme. About every third tour it seems there’s something that goes wrong with the simple task of getting her GoPro and its accessories to the starting line. Again?
She’s starting to resign herself to a tour without video, but we really can’t have that. I tell her to start looking on Amazon to see what she can find, but it’s not so easy. Neither of us can really quite picture what the mount even looks like, and we’ve tried several over the years before settling on the one that works best.
She finds what she thinks is the right one for about $30, and we start discussing the best place to have it shipped. Too late for here, but maybe La Jolla? Or wait for Tucson? Then I look down beneath my nose, see a ziplock bag on the trunk right in front of us that I’d overlooked before, and ask her if this is what she was looking for:
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We don’t stop laughing hilariously for several minutes. It makes a good start to the morning, clears the sinuses.
Oh, by the way, Rocky - I’ve got some thoughts on our tour of Spain this fall I’d like to discuss. No rush. Whenever you’re in the mood.
Today’s ride
It was cold and foggy yesterday morning in Paso Robles. Today, it’s even colder and foggier. It won’t break forty until around noon when the fog finally starts burning off. Over at the coast though it’s a different story: sunny, reasonably calm and a full twenty degrees warmer. We’ve been planning to drive over for a ride up Highway One on one of our days here anyway, and this is the obvious best time. At around 10:30 we load the bikes in the car and drive off.
It’s around 25 miles to the coast from here, on Highway 46 most of the way. The fog thickens as we leave town, and most of the way to the summit of the Santa Lucia Range visibility is down to around a half mile, almost bad enough to slow down the drive. Beyond the top though the sky starts clearing to the west and the Raven’s outdoor thermometer tells us that it’s warming up fast as we descend to the coast. The scenery is spectacular, and all the time we’re descending I’m thinking I should come back some year and ride and out and back up to the summit from the coast on the highway’s generous shoulder - or even better, ride Santa Rita Road, the old road that preceded the modern highway.
By the time we reach the coast and park above Moonstone Beach it’s sunny and 57. Still coolish, but a huge improvement over the conditions we left behind in Paso Verdes.
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We’ve ridden and posted about this stretch of coast several times now, so there’s not much new to say about it. It’s a fine ride, with a good shoulder nearly the whole way and with traffic light and respectful enough that the gaps in the shoulder aren’t really concerning. As usual Rachael’s gone off the front at my first photo stop, not to be seen for twenty miles. There’s no surprise in this, but there is the news that she aimed too high today and decided to race, hoping to get twenty miles in before turning back at our agreed upon time of 2:00. She comes close, and as a reward she’ll claim credit for 39 miles when we make it back to the car as well as ending up with a very sore and achy body from pushing that hard when she’s out of shape. She’s still complaining of this the next morning and unsure what kind of ride she’ll be up to, if any.
So that’s her foolishness for the day. Mine is that in spite of Rachael’s encouragement I don’t pack any kind of lunch. I ate right before we left the house so I’m sure I won’t need anything more before the end of the ride. I’m wrong though, and start bonking about seven miles from the finish line. It’s all I can do to keep Rachael’s flashing tail light in view as it steadily pulls further away from me. Really, would it be that hard to pack some trail mix and a banana into my pannier? Dumb, dumb, dumb.
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Video sound track: Bahia, by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd
Ride stats today: 39 miles, 1,300’; for the tour: 65 Miles, 2,800’
Today's ride: 39 miles (63 km)
Total: 65 miles (105 km)
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