I was still under the weather, and as you know, my mom wants me to take lots of vitamin C. So when John came over to my site as I was packing up, and offered me three seedless tangerines, "for energy, you need it!" I told him my mom would be happy as I was getting over a chest cold. He was off in the distance when I took this picture.
I sat down to eat them, hit the garbage bins and sorted my gear to hit the road. On my way out, John pulled over his truck to get out and give me two more. "Tell your mom if there is anything Devine in this world, it's in your favour." I told him he was an angel and he was reluctant to accept that label. He spoke of his believe in light. I pegged him as an Aetheist but there was no time to discuss it. I took his picture, noting an interesting pose, and he was off. I stashed my two fruits on my pocket and headed to the highway.
One of the first interesting things I saw was a very unusual type of tree trimmed to a shape but which seemed to have a solid face.
It wasn't long before I found another boat on the side of the road.
And it seemed Washington didn't have a monopoly on bouys or floaters or whatever you call them. It was by far the most impressive collection of whatever they are I had seen!
I passed through Port Arena... Interesting place, but too small for anything to be open, it seemed.
Before I got to the next town, I rode by more staring cows. I guess cows never got the memo on the rudeness of staring.
Gualala is not a place I made up. It's fun to say. Say it! Wasn't that fun? Even more fun was they had places for me to eat lunch. I had a mediocre but filling taco meal. The worst thing about Mexican food in the United States is that it is never spicy.
Not long after Gualala I pulled over to take a picture of this house, but before I could, some guy said, "get out of the way, you're slowing everyone down." It was David on his way home to Sacremento. We spoke for a bit bit their car was not completely off the highway, so our conversation was cut short. It was nice to see a familiar face!
And here is the house I wanted to take a picture of before David got in the way and ruined it. Hehehee
From Humbolt County to Sonoma County. What the hell is a county. I don't think we have them in Canada.
There were these really ugly markers to indicate roads off the highway. Most were private and warned for you to stay out. Which was okay because I wouldn't want to check out streets with such ugly street markers.
And it seemed I'd have to watch out for cows. And Cats. For 10 miles. It was nice to be warned that I would be stared at for 10 miles.
There were some treats of the water and jagged rocks that were typical of this stretch of coastline.
Apparently I had managed to get to Fort Ross. I wasn't sure what it was since there was no evidence until a long time later.
I took done pictures, after relieving myself, of Fort Ross. There was some Russian history on the area, and I believe Fort Ross was part of it, even though Ross doesn't sound Russian. Two bikers came up on my tail, and said they had seen my trike the other day in Mendocino. Daniel and Paul were looking for a suitable campsite. I said I was heading to Bodega Dunes State Park. They said it was still quite a ways away. I wasn't sure if they were aiming for it or not.
Things were slow going as there were lots of switchbacks, tuning away from the coast going down, then turning back towards the coast going up, usually with a very sharp turn at the bottom that didn't allow me the momentum to try and climb as much as possible without pedaling. I found this mile market sign reversed and it had a message from one biker to another, it seemed.
Cows that are allowed to roam around the highway without fences don't stare as much. But some still do.
See... Or maybe they were just posing for my picture. Domesticated cows!
As much as I was enjoying the views and scenery, I didn't like the switchbacks and considering my calculations regarding distance and daylight, I was starting to stress over my ability to get to camp before dusk. I promised myself I would not ride in the dark, and I was getting close to not making it. The thought seemed to give me a newfound energy and I was hitting grades in gears and touching speeds I had not previously considering the terrain.7
But I still had 12 miles to go and it seemed as though the sun was about to set. Best case scenario was the 12 miles in an hour. This pic says I should stop, bit I just got faster.
I was feeling down, and the pressure to move remained, but when I rounded a straight stretch and saw the near full moon poking between the overcast and the mountain, my spirits rose and I pedaled harder.
I passed an Indian restaurant. Weirdest place got one ever. I mourned my inability to stop. Half of me thought I should stop, eat, and ask to camp behind their restaurant.
I saw a sign that my lights reflected against saying I had a quarter mile. It had been nightime for the last 6 miles, but I knew cars could see me. I had large reflective badges on my bags and my blinkies were in nightclub strobe mode, as always. The camp sign was not reflective, and I was still in vigorous pace mode, so when I passed what might have been the entrance, I had to stop, turn around and squint to see if my lights could tell me if it was the right place. I had to get off strobe mode to see. I had arrived. I got down to the booth, which was closed, but I paid by envelope and put it in the slot. Daniel and Paul were setting up their tents. I wondered if my suggestion had upset then since they had to resort to nighttime setup. It was my first time setting up like this. Luckily my cell phone helped me find my headlight and setup was no harder in the dark than with light, but I tried not to have my headlight shine on the bikers who were likely already sleeping in their tents. I turned in after saying goodnight to Daniel and Paul. I was mentally and physically exhausted, and I slept like a rock, except on occasion when I heard rain on my tent. The first rain of my trip thus far, but it would be over before I got out of my tent the next morning.
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