I don't Love Raymond - Day 17 – 55 miles

Someone who knows more about weather than me may be able to explain why last night, as soon as the sun went down it began pouring with rain and the moment it came up, it stopped. The noise of the rain hammering down on my tent like bullets kept me up for half the night. I asked Elan if the rain had affected his sleep at all, he said he found the noise soothing. Elan is a lovely chap, but almost the exact opposite of me.

Today's plan was a fairly big ride to Bay Center. The ride began on a long straight road that I could not see the end of. It was 10 miles of very boring riding, for some reason almost every house at the side of the road was having a yard sale. That's 10 miles of yard sales. Or to put in terms you can visualise, enough old crap to fill Wembley Stadium 3 times.

It wasn't long before I'd completely left all traces of civilisation. A mixture of beaches and marshland that stretched on for miles. There were very few cars, no houses and no cyclists. I started to feel very lonely. I wasn't enjoying being on the bike at all. After 25 miles I decided I would cut the ride short and stop in a motel in the town of Raymond. I trudged the last 5 miles into Raymond. I cycled through what the residents of Raymond probably call the town centre. There was a drive-thru bank and a horrible looking diner. It depressed me to the core. I couldn't stay here for a night so I forced myself to continue the remaining 25 miles to Bay Center.

In retrospect the scenery was pretty special but I couldn't appreciate it today. I was feeling homesick and sick of the endless pedalling into the vicious headwind.

I arrived at my campsite in Bay Center. For a change today I was staying at a private campground, not a state park. What a delight it was. It had a shop, free showers and a tarp to protect my tent from the rain.

While setting up the tent I met another cyclist called Matt. He was from Nova Scotia and was cycling from Vancouver to San Diego. He was deviating a little from the standard route though. His plan was to take in all the skate parks along the way. The idea of bringing a skateboard seems like such a frivolous luxury to someone who spent a week considering whether to bring a second pair of pants. Matt has a slightly different approach to carrying his luggage than me. He is towing a trailer instead of the more usual pannier bags front and back that I've opted for. The trailer vs panniers debate could rage on for days amongst some of the more militant touring cyclists.

Matt wasn't camping at the campground he was staying in a friends RV next to the beach, about a mile down the road. He invited me down for a beer so I had dinner and rode down there, pedalling as fast I could not to miss the sunset. On the road to Matt's RV I noticed a large dog standing, carefree in the middle of the opposite lane. It was nearly dark and I was concerned the dog would be run down by a car. Sure enough, within a second I noticed a truck speeding toward the dog. The dog seemed completely nonchalant about it's inevitable fate, almost deliberately suicidal. I didn't think the truck would see the dog in the fading light so I began riding in the wrong lane, heading straight for the truck. I thought at the very least the driver would see me and slow down. My presence in the other lane only spurred the dog to run straight towards the oncoming truck. This wasn't looking good. I swerved madly in an attempt to steer the dog off the road. This tactic worked and the dog moved into the other lane with only seconds to spare.

The RV was parked at the end of a very remote little road next to the beach. I'd made it just in time to see the last few minutes of sunset. It was worth the rush. The tide was out so far, we couldn't even see the sea any more. The beach was filled with endless tide-pool reflecting the dying sunlight.

We retired to the RV for some beers. Such luxury after weeks spent in a one-man tent. Sofas, music, electric lights and my first beer in more than 3 weeks. We were really living it up. Matt was a really interesting guy and it was good to chat with another solo traveller and share experiences.

On the way home I thought how I'd almost stopped in Raymond to stay the night in a motel. I'd been right to push myself on to this great campsite, beers and sunset. I must remember this the next time I suffer a moment of weakness.