Still Heading Home

Bob Kerrey Bridge, Omaha-Council Bluffs

Corn... all day long...

Sheer gratitude for the gentle ways that so many people shaped my ride...

• Brad, maintenance worker and route diviner extraordinaire from the Stillwater, MT, road crew, who guided me to "see more shit and maybe not get killed;"
• Robert Hass -- "I thought it might help to write it down here that the truth of things might be easier to come to on a quiet evening in the clear, dry mountain air;"
• Dan and Marcia (again) -- heroes/heroines as they care for their parents and their own kids;
• Dick, whose hospitality I've now relied on more than once, but who I rarely see at the house;
• Jim "the fishin' fool" at the KOA in Lyons Ferry on the Snake River, for his tip about the mythical bike trail;
• David Emanuel, fellow rider, and with a few miles to go;
• Barb, Steve, and Frank, whose PCT attempt was cut short by snow, and who then bequeathed to me their store of dried fruit!
• Rob, Cath, Sam, and Carsen, whose move to Portland (move to New Zealand next, please?) brought about this whole endeavor;
• my Dr. Pepper and water Samaritans on the ride to Odell Lake;
• Jay and Stephanie from Portland, and Sheldon from SF, who supplied me with energy and good spirits heading up to Crater Lake;
• Gregg and Vivian, my saviors, abductors, and almost unwitting agents of my demise while mountain biking in Oakridge -- I cannot say enough of your many kindnesses;
• Cousin Brian for the comfy mattress at his place in Rocklin -- eat healthy breakfasts!;
• Vin, Margaret, and all the clan at 1301 Los Rios Dr.!
• Tom and Lillian in Berkeley, for the room, the talk, and the architectural history tour;
• Molly and Nate, living the urban life in SF -- thanks for making room for one more!
• Bob and Sally and Alexa -- so wonderful to see all of you and spend some time in Paradise Tiburon;
• Nigel, seeing America by train -- I hope it becomes less of an enormous garbage dump as you travel;
• Rottweilers with shock collars -- gotta love 'em.

"Most of the time, we really don't know how we feel, what we love, what we fear, what we desire."

                                                                   -- Norman Fischer, Taking Our Places

Heading Home

Despite so many wonderful experiences during my recent time in foster care, it's time to head towards home. Before I do, however, let me take a few lines to acknowledge many of the people, in no particular order, who have made this such an enjoyable trip:

• Eliza and Sarah, for the High Trestle Trail ride;
• Jim from Charter Oak, for opening the town pool early, and for sharing his love of pedal tractors;
• Boudreax, of Boudreax's Butt Paste (it really works!);
• Grandma, of Grandma's Ice Cream Shop in Wood Lake, Nebraska, who became a great-grandma while I was having lunch;
• Sheriff outside Chadron, NE, who had ice-cold water and was willing to share;
• Hajar, Carl, and their families in the Black Hills to scatter the ashes of a friend;
• Mark and his wolves, outside Deadwood, SD;
• Jim Davis, rancher with land on both sides of rt. 212 in Montana, for the refreshments and the natural history lesson;
• All the people in Crow Agency who told me where to go to get out of the path of the coming storm;
• Tom and Marina, for taking in and taking out a total stranger in Billings;
• Dan and Marcia, such wonderful company in Bozeman;
• Milo and Alex, kind libertarians at the Big Bad Lunch Box, in Columbus, MT;
• Nick, on the way up to Glacier to hike with his dad;
• All the suitably insane riders in the Tour Divide, whom I met in Ovando, MT;
• Cathy, Isabel, and James, who somehow get along with an ornery ram and a spitting llama - and let's not talk about the turkey;

To be continued...

More Marin

Old RR Grade Rd. up Mt. Tam, after getting a little turned around on small Mill Valley roads

There are so many choices of beautiful rides around here. I know that soon enough I'll be leaving these hills, with their endless variety and stunning views, so I soak it up on this day.

Fairfax-Bolinas Rd. 

View from Ridgeline Drive

From the top of Mt. Tamalpais

View of just about everything,
best viewed on a big screen

Immensity

After all the land I've seen on this trip, I thought I understood the scale of things. The openness of Iowa and Nebraska, the vast skies of Montana, the Continental Divide, a first glimpse of the Columbia River Gorge -- these all inspire a measure of awe. The Pacific, though -- it floors me. Especially from Jack's Beach, up in Pt. Reyes.

Miles of this...

Traveling there with Bob and Sally, I had forgotten how long it can take to get to the ocean once you think you're at the ocean. When we finally did arrive, it became clear:

Wave after wave after wave

Bob and Sally settled in like the veteran beachgoers they are

While Sally scouted for kelp (not to take home and use for artistic purposes, of course -- after all, it's a national seashore) and Bob got comfortable with his book, I made my way to the water.

Whether on the Cape, in the Maritimes, or here at Pt. Reyes, being at the ocean brings back memories of sea glass expeditions as a kid. Now, though, I find myself looking out more and down less, drawn to the expanse and away from the details. This is the big picture I try to keep in my head. Here, where one can feel so small in the presence of the ocean, the idea of this trip becomes clear once again: it's all about connection. 

Marin County

You're leaving San Francisco!?

After the joys of city riding, it was a change of pace crossing the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County. That is, once I got past the hordes of walkers and bikers (nothing but a damn nuisance, those bikers...).

One look back at the city

A few winding roads later, and I found myself in Tiburon, heading up the hill to Bob and Sally's. It was a great surprise to see Alexa, even if it was for much too short a time. She had to get back to Fresno for work the next day.

Alexa and Sally down by the ferry

What's not to love about this place? They have a climate that would bring a smile to any Easterner, biking roads second to none, and a guitar store that makes me sigh. My second night here, I got to listen to a really good player sample about a dozen vintage Martin and Gibsons before his concert at Schoenberg Guitars here in Tiburon. That's one more beautiful thing about having family who live in nice places!

San Francisco from my bike

Took off from Molly and Nate's this morning to tool around the city. A lot has happened here in the last 30 years, but it still brought back memories from well before the last time I was here. It was beautiful, and the city is ever so bikeable. Tomorrow I ride over to Tiburon to Bob and Sally's. 

Sunrise in Mission Bay

Golden Gate Park

Something's missing

Rose Garden 1

Rose Garden 2

Rose Garden 3

Twin Peaks 1

Twin Peaks 2

Stern Grove

Way too cold for swimming

Golden Gate Park

Golden Gate Dog

Haight St. Market

From the Presidio

Very steep, very steep

Painted Ladies

Sacramento to Berkeley

Even when I'm not riding...

I needed a new water bottle. Curiously, my NE Randonneurs water bottle fell off somewhere around the third cartwheel that the mountain bike was doing without me, and I didn't notice until there was no going back for it. So I figured that while I stayed with my cousin Brian, I'd find the nearest bike shop and get a new water bottle.

It just so happens that the nearest bike shop is a sponsor for two of the riders I met in Montana from the Tour Divide Race. When I mentioned that I had run into Jim and Trev in Ovando, the guy in the shop said, "Oh, you're the one from Vermont!"

This morning, I rode out bright and early to catch the train from Sacramento to Berkeley. I'd highly recommend it. Got to Berkeley without a hitch, and went for a little ride. So different from much of the cycling I've been doing!

Natural yellow things

Unnatural yellow things

On the way to the Bay Bridge

Old Naval education barracks on Treasure Island

Stumbled upon a rugby tournament 

Obligatory city backdrop

At rest in Berkeley 

After a delicious lunch at Cafe Leila back in Berkeley, I rode up the hill to Tom and Lillian's house, where I was greeted much more kindly by Stella than I was by the last Blue Heelers I met with Vivian and Grant. What a relief.