I had an issue with a filter on my email which caused all my inbound mail to be deleted since the 27th of December. So if you sent me something and I haven’t responded that is why. Ahhh, techmology. Anyway, feel free to resend if you feel your message may have been deleted.
Another highlight so far was the riding around Big Sur. This area provided spectacular views, hair-raising descents, some of the strongest winds so far (hard to believe, I know), and some great sunny days. The terrain on this stretch is up and down, more guardrails than Oregon but the same precipitous drops, and many many more RV’s than I’ve encountered so far.
On one particularly blustery day I found myself at the top of a short hill in a deep roadcut a few hundred feet above the ocean. As I crested the hill I looked down to see I was going 4mph and took a second to coast slowly on a flat spot before the decent. I recieved a wobbly push from behind and then another; the wind funneled through this gap in the landscape. I looked down to see I was now going 11mph. These gust kept coming all day, mostly head-on, many dangerously from the side, and sometimes a gift of a tailwind. On one descent I found that the turns seemed to be coming up quicker and quicker but I didn’t seem to be screaming along. I realized I was being pushed down the hill by a massive tailwind causing silence rather than the usual roaring in my ears. I glanced at my cycling computer to see I was going 40mph: meaning the wind was at or stronger than that speed. I resisted the very strong urge to pass the motorist in front of me and held on for dear life as a negotiated the turns. Several times that day I was forced to lock my arms as I was buffeted by slipstream gusts from RV’s on one side and onshore winds on the other. I would suggest caution for anyone riding this section this time of year.
At one point the coastline goes from sheer cliffs to rolling hills and farmlands marking the beginning of Southern California. The greenery immediately becomes brownery, the skies are filled with Turkey Vulchers and Falcons, Sea Lions fill the beaches, and someone decided this area was a great place to have a herd of Zebra’s in their pasture.
One night I shared a campsite with a very kind homeless gentleman heading south with 125lbs of gear on a trailer behind his bike. He mentioned he had a bit of an issue throwing things away. We discussed cycling, mileage, notable landmarks, and laundry. The topic of our laundry schedules came up and he was shocked at the infrequency of my schedule. He apparently does laundry three times as often as me. I tend to dry clothing out very often but wash infrequently. After talking with him I decided that I should probably hit the laundromat the next time one made itself apparent.
I continued south through San Luis Obispo, a very nice town, towards Santa Barbara. Along the way I ran into a group of cyclists on tour with a sag wagon. They lost their dedicated driver and now use a leap-frog method of advancing the vehicle from San Francisco to San Diego. One cyclist will drive and park the vehicle at the next landmark while the group rides toward it with little to no baggage. The driver then rides back towards the group, eventually meeting them and heading back to the vehicle. The driver position is rotated throughout the group. I was lucky enough to meet them briefly in a valley and then again at the top of a large climb. As I crested the hill one of them beckoned me closer and handed me a cold beer. Hell yeah. I managed to cross paths with this group again the next day. It’s always nice to meet other cyclists.
I am currently in Santa Barbara, CA resting for the day. I will head on down towards Long Beach starting tomorrow. At this point I’m only five days or so from the Mexican border. I am planning on meeting my Sister and her family in San Diego in a week and a half so I’ll find a way so stretch five days into ten; shouldn’t be hard. This extra time will hopefully allow me to finish and jettison Kitchen Confidential, a very funny read for those not offended by foul language, and maybe even get my equipment list uploaded. :)
From San Francisco I cruised down to Monterey. I had been planning on taking it easy but managed to kick out a couple short days and a 65mile leg. This section marked the first time I wore shorts and a short sleeve shirt all day when riding.
I took a day off for Christmas in Monterey, found some Christmas Calamari and made friends with the heaviest-handed bartender in town.
Over the last few years I usually spent Christmas doing one of two things: cooking for days or refinishing hardwood floors (don’t ask). Although I was alone, had no stocking, and far from home; I enjoyed the day.
The next day I headed south.
I enjoy riding in rural areas so much that when I do come to a large city I find it a little unsettling. I am experienced riding in traffic defensively but the whole race and bustle of the city seems so pointless to me at this point. I find this interesting since I used to be part of that. It seems so far away from where I am now.
I rode across the Golden Gate Bridge on my way into San Francisco. This may seems strange but until I was standing on this massive structure looking down at the water far below, this whole trip didn’t quite seem real. This major landmark informed me that I am not anywhere near home; this is awesome.
I found some friendly people, not hard to do in San Francisco, who gave me directions to my friend Beau’s office. Unfortunately they didn’t take into account that I was on the bike when they handed out their advice. To any other cyclists touring in San Francisco I would NOT recommend cycling up Steiner and then up California. There must be a better way around this hill. On one 4 block stretch I had to stop seven times to rest. That steep hill coming out of Elk ain’t got nothin on these hills.
I was lucky enough to spend a few days visiting with Beau and getting some errands taken care of. I was also able to meet with my friend Barb who just returned from many of the places I’ll be going in South America and got the lowdown. SF is a great city.
As I entered California the weather kept getting better and better.
Almost immediately I entered the Redwood National and State Parks. I had wanted to see this area for quite a while and it did not disappoint. Although the climb into the first section of the park from sea level to 1400′ was long, it was worth it. As I rode down through the narrow winding roads in the late afternoon I had to keep reminding myself to keep my eyes on the road. The redwood trees so immense and tall I wanted to stare into their canopy as I careened down hills. The feeling of insignificance; a flash; from the anthropomorphic perspective of these trees, some thousands of years old, was amazing. I have never seen forests like these. Mt. Rainier I love, North Cascades I love, Jungles of India; Costa Rica I love, but this place blows them all away. It’s the feeling you get when you first visit Paris or New York and you step out of the subway. Like you are on the sea floor of a Metropolitan ocean; only this is twice and deep, magnitudes more beautiful, and no Redmond in sight. It’s that little spark of magic you remembered at Christmas time as a child.
If you haven’t seen the redwoods; I would recommend doing so. Especially Humboldt State Park to the south. I do wonder, however, if I would have had the same mind-blowing experience if I had been in a car. So if you go, get out and walk some or bring a bike with you and coast carefully down the hills.
I camped in the redwoods for a few nights over a week. I met a lot of friendly people, including one who can be seen at the bottom of this page in a tomato suit. I was fortunate enough to meet my first southbound cyclist on tour. For some reason this time of year isn’t a popular time to tour the coast. Did the sarcasm convey? I rode with Galen for a day from Eureka down to Burlington Campground in Humboldt State Park. Thanks again for the eggs dude! This stretch was some excellent riding. The redwoods in the State Park seemed to have less underbrush which somehow made them even more striking.
From there on down the coast to San Francisco I followed highway 101 until highway 1 split off at Leggett. This also marked the start of Leggett hill, the highest point on of the US leg of my route at 2000 feet. The winding road climbed ever further up, traffic very light, a nice bit of sun, and an excellent view. All in all, certainly easier than climbing into the Redwood National Park. The descent from Leggett hill was the best of my life. Around seven miles of 10mph hairpins with, sometimes, several hundred foot drops just feet from the fog line. I love riding down hills on my bike. Riding on a light race style bicycle is one thing but a fully loaded touring bike is quite another. With 70lbs of gear on my 28lbs bicycle it takes off like a locomotive and stopping can be a hopeful event. I am typically one to cast fear aside and go big or go home. Riding a touring bike down hills such as this one is truly a terrifying experience. I can’t overstate how insanely fun it is.
I do keep reminding myself that I need to be conservative when riding since I am alone and I have no residence from which to recover from catastrophe. I remind myself, but I don’t always listen. Life is too much fun when lived; I gotta do it.
Shortly after highway 1 splits from 101 it parallels the coast; rolling up and down hills. Some great riding. I managed to catch yet another storm on my way down, soaking me for a few days.
One notable town was Westport CA. If you ever pass through and need a place to stay, Otto at the Westport Inn has some great stories and if you are nice he will make you coffee and toast in the morning.
The coastline brought lighter traffic, glorious sunsets, numerous falcons; hawks; and turkey vultures, and a few more sets of hills. I also passed the steepest hill on the west coast route, a very short hill climbing out of town of Elk. I managed to find some steeper hills in San Francisco to ascend.
After waiting out the storm in Coos Bay, Oregon, I continued down the coast. The next few days proved treacherous: road debris, downed power lines, 20mph headwinds, and the thickest fog I’ve ever seen. Occasionally I was able to steal a glimpse of the coast when the fog would yield.
After three days the rain stopped and I was graced with a welcomed 20mph tailwind. The riding was easy and the vista’s beautiful. Great cycling weather.
The route was fairly easy; I followed highway 101 all the way down. Each morning I checked the map for a location around 45 miles away and started riding toward it. Around 3pm I would start asking around about campgrounds and somehow I always found something. There’s something very entertaining about not knowing where you are going to sleep each night. On the days when I couldn’t find a campground I would check into the cheapest hotel I could find. If I found a hotel to be too expensive I would ask which hotel in the area was the cheapest, sometimes using the phrase “scabies-special” to much success. I found that you can almost always get a discount just by asking. I usually ask for the “[soggy|tired|cold] cyclist discount”. One time I negotiated two discounts totaling $50.00 off.
Cycling the Oregon coast was really quite fun. With so many opportunities to get water, food, lodging, and camping, it made things very easy.
After a week and a half in Philomath, Oregon, eating performance enhancing Thanksgiving pie, I was back on the road. While in Philomath I took care of some more dental work that I needed done and with a lot of help from my brother-in-law Alan and my sister Tamara, gathered remaining gear that I neglected to purchase before leaving. I also found time to have some fun with my nieces, Juliette and Fiona, and my nephew Logan.
I also visited the school which Logan and Juliette attend. It’s the King’s Valley Charter School’s first and third grade classes. I talked with them about the trip and answered the many questions they had. The first grade class didn’t have many questions but was excited to hear I would take Flat Stanley along and get some pictures with him. I explained the details of my trip to Logan’s class, the third grade, and answered any questions they had. Here’s a rough account of a portion of the Q&A exchange:
Student: “What if you see a rattlesnake?”
Dave: “I will probably try to avoid it as it probably won’t mess with me if I don’t disturb it. There are actually quite a few different varieties of snakes to worry about on the trip other than rattlesnakes. Central America has the Bushmaster, Horned Pit Vipers, and the Fleur de Lance to name a few.”
Another Student: “What if there’s a snake in the road?”
Dave: “I will wait for it to pass or encourage it to move from a safe distance.”
Another Student: “Ok, if the snake is here and you are going this way and you go around it like this, what would you do?”. The student pantomimed the snake’s location and my bicycle barely skirting the edge of it with his fingers.
Dave: “I would try to avoid disturbing the snake if possible or get help as soon as possibile if somehow bitten.”
Teacher: “Let’s ask some questions about something other than snakes while we have Dave here.”
Student: “What if you are in the desert with no food and no water and your friend dies and freezes in the cold. There’s no town nearby and no way to get food, would you eat your friend; because he’s dead already you know.”
Dave: “I hope it will never come to that but if I was in the desert with no food or water and starving, I would try to find a way to get a ride or communicate that I needed help.”
Teacher: “Let’s ask only appropriate questions please.”
Student: “What if you ran over a snake with your bike and it bit you?”
I spoke with them for about 30 minutes. They had many other questions as well but I found this portion of the exchange the most entertaining. I must have had 10 questions about snakes; a popular topic. I’m glad I had the chance to talk with them, it was a lot of fun. They will be following my trip as I go and might study some of the sights along the way.
After a week and a half, I headed down the Oregon coast. These three days were the best riding of the trip so far: gorgeous views of the cliffs, massive rainstorms rolling in off the sea, sun breaks, one small amusing snow flurry, and mostly dead calm.
On the third day the wind picked up and I learned that a large storm system would be rolling through bringing 60mph winds. My Grandfather used to say: descretion is the better part of valor. Riding with a headwind isn’t too much fun but 60mph can be dangerous. Honestly I was more worried about a driver avoiding me in those conditions than myself being blown over. I looked for a campground near my current position but didn’t find one. So, I’m in cheap motel with a warm shower until the winds become reasonable. It’s been reported that gusts have reached 100mph in the area, the strength of a category 2 hurricane. I think I made the right choice regardless of what my wallet is telling me.
With this extra time I will dry out my gear, work on my Spanish, and catch up on communications. I hope you are enjoying the snow in Seattle, sled down something waaay too fast.
Ahh, November in the northwest. How I will not miss thee. I am in Vancouver Washington at my cousin Ryan’s house. He’s been kind enough to give me a couple days of R&R before I head down to my sister’s place in Corvalis for Turkey Day.
The first few days of my trip have been comically wet. At times I wondered if a firetruck with a malfunctioning hose was following me around. Storm drains overflowed, culverts geysered by the roadside, and me with a huge smile on my face; laughing at the absurdity of it all. When the temperature did drop enough to make me uncomfortable I reminded myself that I was not sitting at a desk and all was well again. The irony is that some of you back in Seattle may have been saying “I’m sure glad I’m not where Dave is right now” as the rain beat down. Good times.
The route I chose took me from West Seattle, through Auburn; Puyallup; Spanaway; Roy; Yelm; Tenino; Centralia; Vader; Kelso; and Woodland. With the low clouds and decaying vegetation there wasn’t too much to see. I did at three distinct occasions have, what I assume must have been kids, come up behind me in a truck, honk, then speed off. I remember kids who used to do this on Whidbey Island where I grew up. Apparently they think it will scare the rider and cause them to crash. It does not. I saw roadside sign for a video store that read: “If John Wayne saw Brokeback Mountain he would put a patch over the other eye”. I had identified what the honking really was. Rednecks. Their standard to bear is that of ignorance and intolerance. How disgusting.
I have received quite a few questions about my trip. Check out the FAQ
Status: Green
After a brief and annoying delay, this project is back on the rails. The house is imminently sold; I sign paperwork tomorrow and it closes in a week. My other milestones are 90% complete. I’m in good enough shape to start the trip, albeit I won’t be doing 80 mile days right off the bat, and I only need a few more pieces of gear before the rig is road ready.
The lingering of the house on the market afforded me some extra time to: exhale, finish the gear planning, and take my time to clean out the house. All that remains at this point is my last day at work, tomorrow: Nov. 2nd, clean out the house, organize my gear, plan the route for the first three days, and sell my vehicles. Anyone interested in purchasing a slightly abused ’96 Subaru Legacy Outback? How about a beast? (http://thebeast.baffles.us)
The rain and cold of November in the northwest will make the first 6-8 weeks interesting. As I ride south each passing week should bring warmer weather, less rain, and more sand. I have to admit, there is something about riding south out of the cold, dark, damp Seattle winter with a middle finger held high palm facing forward that brings a smile to my face. Spite is a wonderful motivator. I’m very excited to get on the road. I feel a little like a runner who has been sitting in the blocks for several months; queued up and ready to go. I don’t think I could feel better about my preparation and planning to this point. I have intentionally avoided planning some of the tactical details of the trip to preserve spontaneity and adventure.
I’m currently planning on escaping on Nov. 14th.
Status: Yellow
August 16th 2007 marks two occasions. The demise of my prized mohawk; my reward for the long and arduous completion the house remodel and the first day the September 15th exodus has been pushed out.
Originally when I conjured, or stole … sorry Bill, the idea of riding my bicycle from Seattle to South America it was a five year plan. My financial circumstances at the time dictated how fast I could prepare for the trip, save the necessary funds, and fix the house to the point where it could be rented. Contrary to what people may tell you I am not a patient person. My plans are typically made a week in advance or a month for serious travel. The idea of five years of toil to achieve my goals grated on me for weeks on end.
At one point I decided I could not take it anymore and found another job with a salary increase that would allow me to cut my plan down to only two years. I would live lean; lunch for < $3 / day, dinner was cooked at home or $3 at the White Center taco truck, no purchases other than those working toward my primary goals were to be made. Two years of this, this I could do. Fortunately my company decided to offer a similar compensation package, which I did not expect. This was a great milestone. Everything seemed to be falling into place easily. I got working on the house remodel and started some more structured planning.
In October of 2006, I noticed a smell emanating from the basement. This was odd since my nose doesn’t pick up too many smells after the repetitive brutalizing and breaking I sustained at the hands of my god fearing Mormon roommates in college. If a smell is strong enough I tend to almost taste it rather than smell it. This was strong. My side sewer had collapsed and waste had backed up into my basement. This was definitely not part of the plan and threw a very disgusting monkey wrench into the works. After $400 of inspection by the organized crime … err plumbing company I was told that it could not be repaired because the collapse was too close to the chimney. It would have to be re-routed under the basement slab, down the driveway, along side the sidewalk, and connected up to the existing line. The cost of labor / parts / machinery was staggering; twenty-thousand dollars. If not for the overpowering stench my mouth would have dropped open. I decided to do it myself.
I’m very lucky to have a father who is skilled in several trades and professions. His latest profession is contruction. General Contractor. With his design assistance and many many hours of help, labor from numerous family and friends, and some timely money from my late Grandmother; I was able to remove 85 feet of concrete, dig 120 feet of trench, lay new line, and cover it all back up again. During this time the folks at Home Depot, which is only a few blocks away, became very familiar with me as I passed them on the way to the restroom.
Unfortunately when the basement floor was cut for the trenches, the oil lines from the tank to the furnace were severed. Since it’s a pumped system there was not a whole lot of spilled petroleum but I was without heat until it was repaired. When I got around to re-routing the oil supply lines in early March I was glad to have the heat back on. However, going through the Seattle winter without heat and not caring relatively too much about it, also helped show me that I, and Americans in general in my opinion, are very particular. Just as Tyler Durden said: “You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your [stupid] khakis.” I am not my circa 1950 oil furnace.
During December I managed to find a little time to take my spreadsheets, waterfall chart, and various notes and bit of research and organize them. The original concept was to save enough money for the trip, as well as enough to pay off one of my two mortgages and rent my house out. I aggregated my data and started making worksheets to calculate my savings, monthly outflow, estimated rental income and associated research, trip expenses, rental management expenses, taxes, insurance, and property appreciation. By the time I had completed the spreadsheet I had spent a total of 35 hours calculating and recalculating. Early on I found that I could not make positive cash flow on my house with the estimated rental income taking into account my expenses. Although a much cleaner monkey wrench than days past; this was one nonetheless.
I racked my brain trying to come up with a way to make my original concept work but in the end I could not. I also spent several hours determining the “soft factors” or intangible benefits and detriments to keeping the property. I weighed each item based on how important I though it was, created an inverse statement for each, added up the totals, and tried my best to create an objective conclusion to each section. I found this exercise very useful but also extremely stressful. The implications of the course of action I had concluded from my analysis was both exciting and devastatingly ominous. I had to fix up the house and sell it, and quickly. Rental was not a feasible option. Perhaps the most exciting part of this new plan was that the time line could be reeled in by an entire year. Sept 15th became my launch date and was added to the waterfall chart.
Over the course of the next 6 months I stopped doing almost anything other than going to the job, and working on the house. Several friends expressed their disdain for me abandoning them for months on end. I had to stop cycling to have enough energy to work my 40 hours at the job and sometimes 50-60 hours at home on the house. Wake, eat, bus, job, bus, work, home depot trip, home depot trip, home depot trip ad nauseam, work, eat, work sleep. Over time the house slowly transformed. All plumbing, supply and waste, was upgraded. I rewired the entire house sans ten feet of knob-and-tube in the attic, refinished ~1200 sqft of hardwood floors, replaced all mouldings, repainted, completely gutted and remodeled the kitchen and bathroom in luxurious style; at one point moving a short wall and re-routing vent piping and additional plumbing lines, and welded up and painted new hand railings outside to replace the aging galvanized plumbing pipe railings the previous owner had fashioned. Other projects included: 40 feet of trench and sump installation in the garage, patio excavation; drainage lines; and retaining wall construction in the backyard, downstairs door replacement, water heater replacement, installation of a 50A circuit in the garage, repainting of the front patio, residing of the front porch, refinishing; repainting; and hardware replacement of almost every door in the house, and a billion other small projects. I also had many other projects that I outsourced to contractors to get the house finished on time.
Completing the house remodel was a huge milestone. It was one of the most challenging things I have ever done. It was more challenging than obtaining my Eagle Scout award at 14 years old, more challenging than my two years of college in terms of effort (no I didn’t fail out), sans my career this project was likely the biggest I have ever undertaken. I can’t remember ever wanting anything as much as I want to make the ride south happen. It was this drive that gave me the discipline that I never knew I could rally. I could not have done it without countless hours of consulting and labor that my father provided me, and of labor and support from family and friends.
As a reward for finishing the house I asked my Realtor to cut my hair into a mohawk. A triumphant statement in defiance of the task I had just completed. I didn’t expect to keep it long but found it was actually the best hairstyle I had ever had, in my opinion anyway. There are times that it was cumbersome, such as when I was a paul bearer at my Grandmother’s funeral, but largely I found it extremely amusing.
The house went on the market in June of 2007. Plenty of time to sell, train for the trip, and complete the equipment checklist; or so I thought. The US housing market has been hit by a downturn but Seattle was largely reported as being fairly unaffected. That all started to change around, you guessed it, June of 2007. I priced the house at slightly below what I thought was reasonable considering the comparisons in the neighborhood. It sat for a couple weeks with few visitors. Over the next two months I dropped the price three times. I eventually ending up at $399,950; $30,050 below my initial asking price. Unfortunately the market is seeing houses sit for months at this point even when priced in the screamin-deal range that I have targeted.
Recursion sucks. Status: Yellow. With a standard closing time of 30 days, with each passing day onward from the 15th of August I push the September 15th exodus out another day. I selected the 15th largely for financial reasons but I found it also allowed me to miss the rainy seasons in Central America if my velocity estimations are correct.
It was time for the mohawk to go. I loved it so, but it had become inconvenient. I found I could not ask it to behave without the coaxing of the hair dryer. In addition I had found that as it grew longer my preparation methods had to change. I eventually settled on glue sticks as the best way to solidify it into my typical perpendicular statue of liberty position. That and at least two other products for the beginning and the end of the styling. That is the paradox of the mohawk. It requires a lot of maintenance for a hairstyle which is typically associated with those who do not buy in, or sell out if you will, to things such as beautification and the consumerism of hair products. I have to admit that aspect would have caused me to cut it much sooner if I hadn’t also discovered that women found it surprisingly attractive. That was not something I expected but certainly added to my amusement.
So with each passing day the schedule is pushed. Around October 1st I will start making other arrangements for the winter. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that but it’s nice to have options.
