Since, we last updated, we picked up a stowaway (Chanel), who has been tagging along for the last couple hundred miles. Actually, Abe and I have been tagging along, because she smokes us up the hills. With the new nickname “Lance”, Chanel has been a great addition to our team, taking the lead, and making it seem like we are actual bikers.
The biking over the last several days has been very interesting, given the fact that this route is very popular for other bike touristas! We have met many interesting folks including, a couple from Switzerland bound for Panama, a group from Whistler, an older couple on a Tandom bike, and the most interesting of all, a band of 15 Mennonites. I am always impressed when I ask people how far they have ridden, when they say, “Oh, I started in Alaska 3 months ago”. While talking to one of the bearded Mennonites, he replied “Oh….just twenty years”. Holy shit, I said!! He gave me a mean look in response to my obscene language. “Oh my gosh” I said as a retort. Sure enough, he and his band of spiritual bikers have been biking around the United States since 1982 in pursuit of salvation. The men bike in jeans and full length shirts, and the Women in Full length denim dresses. I thought this ridiculous until I saw them climbing a steep hill out of Leggit on highway 1. Wearing my Lichra bike shorts and a neon yellow bike jersey, I crawled up the hill at 3.6 miles per hour sweating and cursing the hill. A Mennonite woman with hair down past her lower back, ripped by me caring twice as much gear, and gave me a smile (obviously not tired at all). Maybe I should join!!
After dogging inland around the lost coast and through the Redwoods, we finally made it back to the coast. We only made it one mile , before we were compelled to stop and surf. Taking a mid day brake, Abe and I hopped off the bike and into the water, getting instantly swallowed by big waves. After our quick shred stop, we were back on the bikes, weaving in and out of the fog. Camping just short of Mendocino last night, we were slightly unnerved by wanted signs for a murder on the loose. A couple hours after we hit the sack, something popped up under my vestibule, making strange sounds. “Ahhhhhhhh” I screamed. I turned on my headlamp expecting to see the murderer right there, and…..there was a skunk just chillen looking at me. I froze, hearing Abe and Chanel in the other tent laughing at my scream! Worried that the skunk was about to spray I sat helpless as the skunk perused through my stuff. Today we are hanging in Mendocino, waiting for waves, and loving the farmers market. Hasta Pronto!