Many more hellos

This is going to be my last post. Before I get to the meat of things, I would like to make an addendum to the last post, for my own personal aw shucks pride. Regarding climbing up Mt. Palomar, it seems that even if you add a minute to my time to account for me not knowing exactly where this race started from (it couldn't have been far. Rincon's got like 5 buildings), my time is about on par with self-styled serious (but not necessarily great) climbers of the area. I'm no racer and shouldn't really care about these things, but that's encouraging.

Also, if you're still reading this, you might find my album of the whole trip interesting. Most of the good stuff is there. Not as much food as I could put up, but if you care about that, chances are I can show you that stuff in person. A lot of dairy!

Picking pictures for the album really hammered in the point that this is over, which has actually been pretty easy to acknowledge over the last few days as new and old worries take over. Being broke, career worries, friends in need. But I believe I do have new perspectives on things.

Since I've returned, everyone's asked about not just the trip, but also about what I think I've learned. I think a lot of what I've learned is stuff that I don't even know I've learned yet; when talking to a distressed friend, I surprised myself by saying Things About Life that I wouldn't have said a month ago. Not only that, I was saying them with Great Conviction, which is an emotion I've never been all that familiar with. That's a change right there, no?

Anyway, here are the bigger, more obvious things that I think I know that I didn't know before. You probably know these things or have heard these things before, but that doesn't mean they're not great.

Manage and adapt expectations to help you appreciate everything in the moment. This is a real easy one everyone but me knew. Early in the trip, I think it's obvious, I was incredibly stressed. Nothing was going as planned. Hotel sleep was never fulfilling, it was almost impossible for me to find decompression alone time off the bike, I wasn't being best buddies with my dad like I thought might have happened. I was complaining a lot to a lot of people. Certain expected rewards never materialized. I never played my guitar or finished a book. But really, it's like, I was still riding my bike down the west coast doing and seeing more than I ever thought I would. And every day I was physically spent, I could pull out a map of the US and say, "oh, wow, two days ago I was a full inch farther north of here. That's pretty far. Awesome." It's not about lowering the bar. Rewards can be found wherever you look.

You're stronger than you think. Another stupidly obvious one, one that I knew all along but didn't have to deal with until my father left. Hrm. But, well, one day, the first day I cracked mentally, I wanted more than anything for my achy knee to develop an injury so that I had an excuse to quit. I knew that wasn't really an option, even if my dad told me it was (hrm). The next day I took it easy and collected my thoughts and then came back to ride pain free and actually enjoy the ride. Anyway, a bad anecdote, maybe being sick and riding 2.5 hours in fog and rain with no helmet or shoulder and all sorts of fear is a better one. But the point is sometimes the hardest person to convince is yourself.

That being said, hitting your true limits is good for you. Every failure is an opportunity. So yes, I think we've all given up on things before we've really had to, and that's not so great. But when you've absolutely exhausted yourself and you're still not where you want to be, it's okay to acknowledge that. And not just for the feel-good "be happy with your effort" effect; I don't think sitting there and being proud you're stuck is a reward. Again this is nothing new for lots of people, but I had to adapt expectations and see things anew. When I was coughing up yellow globs, even if I could keep riding, it wasn't enjoyable. So, I rented a car and had fun with the sunroof open. I still did something new, and couldn't feel guilty or ashamed because I was having too much fun.

Waffles are great. Crispy and warm, they melt in your mouth when soaked in syrup. Lots of hotels serve make-your-own waffles with continental breakfast. Everyone loves them and gets at least one. Why don't we make them more often at home? We can say this about lots of things. When I rented my first car for a day out of Santa Cruz, I texted myself the message "I LOVE NPR." It was the first time I'd listened to Morning Edition in almost a month. Hearing news about Iran had never made me smile before, but there I was actually giggling to myself with one hand doing the wavy thing out the window. We all lose track of those stupid little things we forget to appreciate. Let's try not to do that anymore.

People are giving, trustworthy, and friendly. Even in the Northeast, as I often have to insist to people in other parts of the country. Everyone appreciates a joke or a smile. People who've never met me or only know me a little bit donated like $4500 for something that I just decided to do. There was a huge supported tour of riders going from SF to LA raising money for the arthritis foundation with a $2900 fundraising minimum. Dozens of people, and they'd all raised at least thousands (one guy raised $50,000!) for a great cause! That's a lot of giving. When you think you're bothering people for a friendly favor, chances are you're not bothering them; they were probably curious about what you were doing anyway (How many subway conversations have you deliberately eavesdropped on?) Many people struck up a conversation with me just because I was hauling the trailer. That made me feel less alone and convinced me we need to fear each other less.

Love the people you know. They love you more than you might think. When people tell you they're behind you and they've got your back, believe them. The people I've already thanked, I can't thank them enough. This trip was wonderful and amazing, but as I wrote a while back in San Francisco, a lot of the times I had, I wish someone could have shared that with me. Of course I wouldn't have had that very valuable alone time, but pulling out into the Yachats fog, rolling into the redwoods and feeling sunbeams cut through the canopy to warm my skin, eating lots of ice cream and Mexican food -- these are experiences I want everyone I know to know. Things are beautiful and beautiful things should be shared. Sappy whatever, but yeah, I wouldn't be who I am without everyone I know. That's your mark on the world. And as Robert Johnson sings in When You Got a Good Friend, "watch your close friends, baby, then your enemies can't do you no wrong."

Okay! Now I guess it's time to get back to life, but it's not really the same life I had when I left September 11. Never did I think being in debt, unemployed, single, and too-cold-to-ride would be a good thing, but here I am and I'm excited about what's next, whatever that is. Without a doubt, this is the best thing I've ever done by myself.

It's funny, a few days ago some friends reminded me that before I left I was full of doubt and fear, even convincing myself that I didn't need to do this. It's also still funny to hear people tell me that I have big cojones to have even left to start this thing. Buying the plane tickets and buying the bike stuff, then especially making it a charity ride, that's just the point of no return. These things aren't hard when you've just made the commitment, financial or otherwise. Anyone could have done it. Really. We're all capable of great things. If you've ever thought of doing something crazy, big or small, you owe it to yourself to do it. Working indoors under artificial lights, I'm sure you've thought that things could be better. So surprise yourself. Inspire pride among the people you know. It's really not that hard to make your corner of the world a great place.

1 hour, 19 minutes, 31 seconds

Super quick, panera closes in a minute. A slightly disappointing time up Mt. Palomar, but a huge improvement from last April. At this rate of improvement (chopping off ~15 minutes every 1.5 years), I'll be matching Jan Ullrich's mythical record time of 48 minutes from the Taco Shop to the Top in about 2 years. The yellow jersey's good as mine.

It was very hot down at the base. 80s, so 70s at the top. Ran out of water, 2 full bottles, about 3/4 of the way up. Then my lower back got tired. Not my legs, my lower back. In fact, my lower back still is sore. I was moving at a nice clip up until then. Shucks.

Ate chili and mac and cheese at the restaurant at the top. That was a mistake when I still had 8 miles left to ride (okay, like 7 of those are straight downhill, but still).

Um, what else. Damnit, because I had to eat dinner and use the internet, I missed like the greatest Monday Night Football ever, it seems. Saw the first three quarters, but it looks like the 4th quarter, by the looks of the gamecast, was a great quarter unless you're a fan of the Bills. But, who is, really.

I'll post pictures soon. The top of Palomar is somewhere I don't expect to be anytime soon and it was the most beautiful I've ever seen it. You could see the Pacific in the distance. Maybe Japan if you had a really good telescope. Gorgeous. Painful, but it was worth it.

Wow. I'm leaving the West Coast soon. I will have to adjust my TV schedule.

This should be it.

I'll put up another post or two, the last one when I leave for home. But this is what everyone's all been waiting for. My favorite new shirt that I got in redwood country! Not only the grass, but also the hooves, mane, and moon sparkle. It's not a unicorn, but that's fine -- this is more grounded in reality. Like, see, I'm not that much thinner.


No, actually, what you wanted to see is here.
I rode there this morning. The ride was surprisingly pleasant and not sketchy at all. I might have broken some border law by being afraid to continue and just turning back the way I came on the highway. I was on the opposite side of the fence before.
So, I'm generally pleased with myself. See?

Feeling a bit emo and unsettled right now so I should stop this short. Where I'm staying there's no internet or cell phone signal, so not only can I not do any work (i.e. job hunting), but I can't call people to be happy and celebratory. That's okay though. It's still better than mail (which is pretty good in the scheme of things).

Mr. E pointed out that it sounds like I have bronchitis. I'm feeling better, but still definitely sick. I listened to a Radio Lab episode about sleep and the fact that the brain behaves differently when you're sleeping in foreign environments. I can feel that. It must contribute to me taking forever to get over this cold when I usually get over them in a day.

See, I'm bitching again. Must stop thinking so critically all the time! Three days to burn in San Diego -- there was a time in my life I'd have killed for that! Will ride Palomar tomorrow. Maybe I should take a break, but I'm also the most bike-fit I've ever been. I should also get my bloodwork done back home so I can be like, "See, my cholesterol was once 350, but now ha!" What I really should do is find a beach and a book and send you all good thoughts. That is seriously all right.

Now you guys should be all like this

quickie from the java depot

In Solana Beach, in the same coffee shop I went to about a year and a half ago almost immediately after I got hit by a car for the first time. Just did the same ride. It was nice, and not drizzly this time.

Places change a lot in a year and a half. Literally everywhere I've been, from people's homes to stores, has changed since last April. Renovations, expansions, hanging new pictures....

It sounds silly, but I never really thought about what I'd do once I got here (the greater San Diego area). I've got a few more rides to do (including tomorrow's run for the border), but really, I got nothing to do but sit around. That's not all bad. After the last time I was here, though, I never really thought I'd ever come back here without someone to take around. Not complaining (reid), just ... I get why people would not want to visit, say, countries in which they lived abroad for a while. Why people don't necessarily want to move to cities they love.

Anyway, gotta eat (already starting to eat less in anticipation of less activity) and then maybe watch a movie to waste some time. I've been lots of ice cream lately. That's gotta stop.

Btw, driving down the coast, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would. Sort of wish I rode it. Sort of. I'd say 10% of the ride would have been interesting. Malibu and Laguna Beach, for all their pop culture overload, seem to be very nice places. Obnoxious in the way very rich towns with homes in scenic areas are, but still. If I had a trophy wife, we'd shop there.

making it okay

Lompoc to Santa Barbara was one of the dullest rides ever. Most of it was right along a rather busy 101. I had a very nice, wide shoulder, though sometimes with the trailer you lose your line -- highway rumble strips really rumble your insides when you're on a bike.

Back to the dullness. I don't want to sound like an ass, but I've seen this stuff before. Southern (ish) Californian coastal desert flora and rolling hills. Dry grass. Chapparal. The occasional brilliant red flower. Lovely, but it gets tiresome.

[i should upload a picture. sigh]

Santa Barbara seems like a pretty neat place though. It's like a cartoon character of a town. I'll go exploring tomorrow.

With that and this cold and headache that never goes away, I've decided to drive down to SD tomorrow. I was only riding to Oxnard anyway (35 miles), then getting a ride to like Long Beach (to avoid the LA traffic mess) and riding down to Oceanside, which is a ride I've done before. I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. Really.

Maybe a little. Which is why Saturday I'm just going to do the north San Diego coastal ride I've done many times before. Then Sunday I'll do the 30 mile round trip to and from the border from Ti Ica's place in National City. Then on Monday or Tuesday, depending on form and weather, I'll take another crack at Mt. Palomar. Don't know if/when I'll be out here again, and I have a cheerleading section at the top of the mountain.

I should talk about food more. I've been eating so much of it, I will miss being able to eat everything I can. I haven't lost very much weight (I think), but I suppose I am fitter mentally and physically. 4 hours of towing the trailer is fun as long as it's a warm sunny day. Speaking of which, yesterday was the first ride of the entire trip when I've not worn arm and leg warmers. I wore them for the first half of today's ride, so today doesn't entirely count. My forearms are burnt, which is very satisfying. Live for today, you can't be afraid of melanoma.

Oh, I'll be taking a redeye back east on Wednesday. Crazy. Maybe I should spend the next five days driving back up to Seattle and back, nonstop. Ha....?

towns like this and kids like us

Lompoc. Wikipedia that to learn its pronounciation.

I've asked a few people what there is to do around here, and all of them laughed. A very nice lady described this place as a one horse town with half a horse. There's an airforce base and a prison nearby. Apparently there's also a very well restored mission on the outer edge of town. Otherwise it's a town like so many others -- in the middle of nowhere, a sequence of strip malls and stoplights.

You always wonder what people's lives are like when you're traveling to new places. NJ doesn't have towns like these -- NJ is one big town, really. There's always something somewhere really nearby, not to mention, oh, New York. I'm pretty sure this is atypical. When I started roadtripping on the east coast, I started to understand -- but especially out here and especially when I consider how much more isolated other parts of the country are (hello rural southwestern states) -- I get why kids get drunk and do donuts in farmers' fields, why crystal meth labs are blowing up somewhere every week. Boys and Girls in America, I guess.

This hotel gives out, among other things, pudding and chocolate milk and bottled starbucks frappucinos at the front desk. I always wanted to request chocolate milk where I used to work. Someone still there should ask for pudding.

San Anything

It's Tuesday night and I'm in San Luis Obispo. I left Half Moon Bay yesterday in the rain (enormous thanks to Rebecca for driving me down at 5:30 AM!!!) and it continued to rain on me for about 2.5 hours.
It let up right around what seemed to be the happiest place in the world right then.
Found myself on the Santa Cruz boardwalk.
Santa Cruz is a pretty excellent college town, probably my second favorite one after Charlottesville. It's a really nice place, and I couldn't have had a better host in Mike. His cat Winifred is the cutest cross-eyed Siamese ever.
Riding in the rain got my cold colder, so I drove down to San Luis Obispo. I have no qualms with driving 200 miles. So it's partly a road trip now. I had a great time. I remembered that I love driving and NPR and open windows. After Big Sur (which is as beautiful as they say. Everything I loved about the California coast just all seemed to come together there. Stunning. Go.), the road dipped and dove and swooped enough for me to know that if I were on my bike with the Bob, I would have died or worse. I'm not kidding.

So yes, I'm in San Luis Obispo, another town that ranks high on the list of Awesome Towns. It's a Tuesday night, but there was a line starting to snake around the block for the 7:30 showing of Rocky Horror (oh HS-ers), and there were two live shows, one of which had a block-long line. And all the stores are open late. AND, you can eat frozen yogurt and toppings by the pound at Bali's Frozen Yogurt. If they offered the option to blend your yogurt, then this would definitely beat Arches, which is unbeatable. This is what 1.06 lbs of frozen yogurt (peanut butter, malt chocolate, mint chocolate) and toppings (hot caramel and fudge, cookie dough, PB cups, chocolate chips, rainbow nonpareils, rainbow sprinkles, other stuff I can't remember) looks like.
So now I'm here. I'm returning this lovely Ford Taurus tomorrow morning, then heading down to the bedroom community of Lompoc.
I'm excited to get back home pretty soon, but I forget that home doesn't have as many exciting things around every corner. I've been living almost exclusively in extremely emotional states, ranging from frustration and desperation to absolute wonder and pride, for the last few weeks. I hope I can keep that up when I get back home. Life shouldn't be ordinary.