A Quick Detour to Patagonia - Day 56 – 55 miles

We all woke early, a little bleary-eyed from the cocktails the night before. We packed away our tents, restoring Doug and Marian's immaculate lawn to its former glory. Marian very kindly made us a wonderful breakfast of porridge, bacon and hash browns. Having our breakfast cooked for us meant we were ready to be on the road an hour earlier than normal. We said our thanks and goodbyes to Doug and Marian and headed out.

Before long Luke got a puncture. We all stopped to lend our moral support while he patched his tube. The ride continued through some fairly complicated city riding. Jenna and Brooke had taken on the job of navigation so us boys just had to follow their lead without worrying about looking at maps.

I was riding much better today. My right knee was still a little uncomfortable but the hot tub and great food at Doug and Marian's had worked wonders on my physical and mental state.

Marian had previously worked for Patagonia, the outdoor clothing company. Last night she had suggested we drop in at her old workplace for lunch and a tour. We found Patagonia headquarters in Ventura and the 5 of us were met by Marian's friend Terri. After some introductions we were shown around the different parts of the company. We were led into a room filled with sewing machines and fabric where the team who put together prototypes of the new clothing work. The next part was my favourite. We talked to the guy who tests all the different products for water-resistance, breathability and just about anything else you could think of. He showed us all the different machines he uses for his tests. There was a sort of giant hoover that sucks air through fabric to test for wind-resistance. My favourite machine was the zip tester. It was a large machine with 4 pistons and a number of springs. Its sole purpose was to zip and unzip different zips. The machine would pull the zip up and down thousands of times to test for durability. I was amazed that anybody would make such a machine. Later we talked to one of the guys who work on environmental projects Patagonia is involved with. 1% of the company's profits are used to benefit environmental causes. I was interested to hear about the work they were doing to help animals follow their natural migration routes by creating safe pathways over and under roads and removing obstacles like barbed wire. As a migrating cyclist I could empathise with this cause. After the tour we ate lunch with Terri in the Patagonia cafe. She had done a very similar bike tour to the one we were doing back in 1981. It was interesting to hear about her experiences back then. We had a great time meeting all the guys at Patagonia and learning how the products we wear our designed and tested. Everybody who works there is passionate about outdoor activities so I think they were all pretty excited to hear about our trip.

The ride continued through city streets and bike paths alongside freeways. It was great that we were all riding together as it's so much safer and more fun for this kind of riding.

10 miles down the road we stopped for a toilet break at the side of the road. Everybody else apart from me (including the girls) was happy to go at the side of the road. I prefer more privacy so I rode my bike a way up a dirt road and found a private spot between a couple of Eucalyptus trees. Before I could get going I noticed a truck speeding towards me in the distance. I jumped back on the bike and sped back down the dirt track to the road and the laughter of my bike gang. I then spent an uncomfortable 30 minutes or so looking for another suitable spot to pee. One of the problems I have with the wide open spaces of Southern California is that I like to find a nice spot amongst some trees. The worry as I carefully tread into these more overgrown areas is that I will be bitten by a Rattlesnake.

Just before Leo Carrillo campground we stopped off at a grocery store for some beers. The campground was almost empty which was nice. Recently we have been avoiding the hiker/biker areas of the campgrounds and using the regular larger campsites. This is due to California's large population of bums and hobos that tend to frequent the hiker/biker areas at state parks.

We made dinner and had a campfire. It was Luke's last night before his trip ends tomorrow in LA. We will miss him of course, he's a really charming, fun guy. It is however only a couple of days before the gang will split up entirely in San Diego. This last section of the US since San Francisco has flown by. I still find it hard to believe that I am close to having cycled down the entire length of the country.

Too Good to be True - Day 55 – 65 miles

I was awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of my bike being moved. As I unzipped my tent to take a look I thought I heard foot steps. Was somebody trying to steal my bike? In a panic I leapt half way out of my tent still in my sleeping bag. In a combat situation with a thief being stuck inside a mummy sleeping bag can be a serious disadvantage. I realised the disturbance had been a strong gust of wind so got up to further secure my bike and went back to bed.

Before leaving in the morning I cleaned my chain and dérailleur with the WD40 and a sock given to me by Crazy Joe Galloway a few days earlier. Everybody thought it was hilarious to see me using a 'bum's sock' to clean my drive-train.

The ride began with a 13 mile climb. My knee was still playing up so I was kind of limping, using my other leg to do most of the work. At the top everybody was waiting me and cheering me to the top.

The descent was steep and fast and a gust of wind nearly blew me off my bike.

The next section of the ride was a long stretch of windy freeway. It was exhausting, particularly with my knee problem. I ended up a long way behind everybody else but they thoughtfully waited for me and cheered me up when I finally met them. They could see I was having a tough day and it was great that they were all looking out for me.

We stopped for lunch at a supermarket. I had PBJ burritos in preparation for Mexico.

The five of us stuck together through the challenging city riding leading up to Santa Barbara. Just as we were leaving the city a guy in a BMW pulled up alongside me. He asked if we needed a place to stay for the night. I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't really have a chance to decide if this guy was crazy or not so I thanked him and said we had a place to camp tonight. He sped off. Over the next hill I saw everybody talking to the guy in the BMW who had now pulled over onto the side of the road. He said he'd love to have us over for dinner and we could camp in his garden. We looked at each other and laughed. This was too good an offer to pass up as he seemed like a good guy. He gave us directions to his house and we followed his car as he stopped at every corner and waited. Along the way we discussed what kind of house we thought he'd have. We were not disappointed. It was a beautiful large house, complete with swimming pool and hot tub. Doug and his wife Marian made us feel instantly at home and gave us free run of the house. We were allowed to use their shower which was clean and didn't require the insertion of quarter dollar coins every 2 minutes. As we pitched our tents in the garden Doug came out with a tray of Margaritas. This was not something that normally happened to us. We sat down for an amazing dinner with Doug, Marian, their 15 year old son Ian and other guests, Kim and Brian. I ate and drank better than I had done for months.

After dinner we headed outside for a dip in the pool. It was now quite cold outside and the pool wasn't heated. We all dived in and screamed with the cold. Luckily we were able to jump out of the pool and straight into the warmth of the hot tub. Doug bought out a jug of Mai-Tais for us to drink in the hot tub. It was Brooke's birthday. I don't think she could have hoped for a better way to spend her birthday on this trip. Ian came out and demonstrated some of his impressive surfing skills in the pool before joining us in the hot tub. Luke picked oranges from the tree in the neighbouring garden for us to eat. They were so juicy and fresh, quite unlike the oranges you find in Tesco's back home.

As we went to bed I thanked Doug for his wonderful hospitality. He said he'd had fun and he knew cyclists tended to be good people so he liked to help them out.

This was such an incredible end to a pretty horrible day's riding. I hoped the warm water would have soothed my dodgy knee.

Some Things go Missing - Day 54 – 44 miles

At around 5am I was woken by a creature sniffing the tent right in front of my face. It sounded big but I was pleased not to feel scared. Since my bear sightings a few weeks back in Yosemite I was no longer afraid. Had something like this happened 6 weeks ago I would have soiled my tent. Later on when I got up I came to the more likely conclusion that it been a deer rather than a bear. During breakfast I left my 2 bananas on the picnic table. When I came to pack up the bananas were no longer there. I accused everybody of stealing them. Everybody turned out their bags and pleaded innocence but I still threw wild accusations at them all.

We set off together. The landscape was amazing. I love getting away from the coast to get a look at some new scenery. We were riding through a large flat prairie, walled-in by mountains in every direction. It was hot, nearly 30 degrees. This was great training for Mexico. We stopped for a snack. I found my bananas and apologised to everyone. I felt bad but it is easier to accuse everybody else of stealing and have them turn out their bags than have to turn out your own.

My knees were hurting a little from the past 2 days of pushing myself too hard. Luke reminded me to switch to a lower gear and keep my legs spinning faster rather than pushing harder.

A new cyclist approached from behind. It was a guy from Florida called Scott. I really enjoyed talking to Scott as we climbed a pretty challenging hill. This was his first tour. Back in February he'd sold all his possessions and set off from Florida. His destination was Argentina but rather than take the easy route he'd chosen to ride via Alaska. He was on his way to Baja, Mexico too so I tried to get as much useful information from him as I could. His plan was to cross the border in the smaller city of Tecate rather than the bigger and more dangerous Tijuana. I'd considered this myself a while back and after discussing it with him I think this is what I'll do too.

At the top of the hill everybody was waiting and they cheered Scott and I to the summit. The view from the top was magnificent, taking in the city of Lompoc below and a panoramic view of all the mountains surrounding it. We flew down the hill and all stopped at Subway. All of us wolfed down our foot-long sandwiches and drunk litres of sugary soft drinks. Jenna decided to keep her sandwich for later as she wasn't hungry.

Everybody wanted to check their emails so we all headed to the library. Whilst in the library somebody stole Jenna's sandwich which she had tied on to the back of her bike. Chris told her he'd seen me take it. This was no doubt direct retaliation for the earlier banana incident.

Everybody left the library to go to the grocery store and set up camp. I stayed a little longer. When I finally left the library it was nearly dark. I'm surprised each day by how early it gets dark. It was only just after 6pm. When I started the trip less than 2 months ago I had around 4 more hours of daylight each day. I sped through town realising that I didn't really know where the campsite was. I raced through the streets. I didn't want to be stranded in the dark. I eventually found the campsite about 3 miles away to my great relief.

I set up my tent in the dark and had PBJs with banana for dinner.

Into Southern California - Day 53 – 55 miles

All 6 of us rolled out of the campground together and rode into the nearby town of Cambria. We found a bike shop for Chris' broken wheel but it was closed on Sundays. We would need to travel a further 40 miles to San Luis Obispo to find another bike shop. It's not pleasant having to take on a long ride with a wheel that could give way at any point.

I rode with Chris and Brooke, using my GPS to guide us to the bike shop. We all rode as fast as we could. The shop closed early on a Sunday so we had to get there as soon as possible to make sure the mechanic would have enough time to take care of the wheel. The scenery was fantastic: jagged, treeless mountains common to this part of California, scattered with the odd large rock formation. Vultures, eagles and Peregrine Falcons were as common a sight as pigeons back in London.

We made it to the bike shop 90 minutes before closing time. It was a massive shop and they set to work immediately on Chris' wheel. While the mechanic worked I took the opportunity to pick up a few spares in preparation for Mexico. To my surprise Luke and Jenna walked in and joined us. There were 3 bike shops in the town so it was lucky they managed to pick the right one. We spent an hour messing about in the bike shop, it was like a day out at Disneyland for us. The bike shop staff were really only familiar with cycle racing rather than touring so were curious and knew little of what's involved on a tour. One of the staff asked Brooke what we used for fuel on the road. After some confusion it became clear he was not talking about our camp stoves but the food that we eat. He thought we must have had bags full of power bars, electrolytic gels and protein drinks. We explained that we just eat food, albeit lots of it.

We rode in a gang to a camping shop and then onto an enormous supermarket. The aisles were so big that forklift trucks were driven down them, piling multipacks of food up to the high ceiling. I bought far too much stuff and could hardly fit it all on my bike. I returned to the group who were waiting with the bikes. A local cyclist had offered us a place to stay for the night which seemed very kind. Riding in a large group through a town was fun. The locals stared or waved as we passed. Jenna had a charming habit of saying hello to almost every person we passed. On the way to the campground we passed a man riding his bike in the opposite direction with a large blue parrot perched on his handlebars.

With Chris' wheel fixed we entered the beach town of Pismo which marked the start of Southern California. Upon entering Oceano Campground we looked for Dave but couldn't find him. The sun was nearly setting so we threw up the tents and bombed down to the beach on our naked bikes. As the sun ducked under the horizon, providing a most incredible sunset we all ran into the water. This was my first swim in the Pacific in nearly 2 months of cycling alongside it. Despite what everybody had told me about the currents flowing down from Alaska, it wasn't too cold. Having grown up swimming on English beaches I suspect I'm a little more used to cold water than the average Californian.

We all cooked feasts tonight. I made tortilla chilli wraps. Chris and Brook made kebabs on the open fire. Luke made a sort of desert bread on a stick called Bannock. The recipe had been taught to him by some Canadian girls he'd met further north. It tasted really good, a bit like blueberry muffin.

After dinner we discussed the end of our trips. The Mexican border was now only 6 days away at the rate we were travelling.

The Big Ride and the Fries Denied - Day 52 – 71 miles

My alarm woke me at 6.40am. It was still dark. I forced myself to get up. I knew I had to be on the road in good time if I was to make the big ride today. I managed to get on road just before 9am. It's difficult to make a quick getaway when you have to make breakfast, take down a tent and pack everything onto the bike. As I rode out of the campground I passed a man in a kilt playing the bagpipes. I wasn't really sure why he was there.

The ride began immediately with a big climb. I stopped half way and joined Dave for a coffee outside a store. It wasn't really the right thing to do given that I'd woken up especially early with the intention of getting a head start. I guess I was missing the second breakfasts I used to have with my previous gang.

I made it to the top of the hill and was rewarded with a great view of the miles of coastline further south. The ocean was completely blanketed in a beautiful white fog, lending the whole scene a sort of heavenly appearance.

The ride was incredibly inspiring. I always ride better when surrounded by interesting scenery. A boring ride leaves one to think purely about the mechanics of turning the pedals, distractions are essential to a good ride. I was riding really well, powering up the numerous hills like a machine.

Throughout the ride I regularly met up with Dave, Chris and Brooke. Stopping off for a a snack and a chat here and there. I rode with Dave for a bit and picked his brain a little more about what to expect in Mexico.

Later on Dave was a little ahead of me and I watched him pull off the road into a gravel lay-by. As I neared him I saw that he was taking a pee without even dismounting from his bike. Still in his saddle, turned a little to the right he was urinating freely without a care in the world. I'd never seen anything like this. Here was a man who had become very comfortable on his bike since starting out in Alaska all those months ago. I felt honoured to be witnessing such a scene. I was clearly watching a master of his craft at work.

Around lunchtime I passed a store, the only one in 40 miles. There were lots of bikers gathered outside, this place really had a monopoly on snacks and drinks. I stopped off to chat with Dave and was approached by another biker who asked me how I was doing. I didn't recognise him at first but then realised it was Matt, the biker with the skateboard who I'd shared a few beers with in an RV back in Washington. I didn't think I'd ever see him again so it was great to catch up. He'd been having a great time visiting all the skate-parks on the west coast. He said he almost didn't recognise me due to the length of my beard. I was quietly pleased to hear this.

The ride was hilly all day but the next section was exceptionally challenging. A set of 2 hills one after the other, both of nearly a thousand feet. As I neared the summit of the first I felt a little shaky so stopped for some food. It was well past lunch time, very hot and I hadn't had enough to eat. I rested for a bit and then tackled the second hill. It was even steeper than the first and I had to stand up and use my body weight to move the weighty bike to the top. The entire time I was fantasising about what food I would eat at the town I knew was waiting for me on the other side of the hill.

I descended into the town of Ragged Point. There was a fast food stand surrounded by a swarm of bikers and Harley Davidson riders. I was delighted to see a veggie burger on the menu. I ordered one and some large fries. Dave, Chris and Brooke arrived and joined me for some food. After a few minutes my burger arrived and the cook told me my fries would follow shortly. I wolfed down the burger and waited patiently for the fries. I noticed other people were receiving portions of fries so I went up to ask about the delay. The cook had disappeared, I managed to find the cashier and he found my fries. The cook had forgotten to give them to me. They were cold so he offered to get me some fresh ones. I returned to my seat and waited for another 10 minutes. The others suggested I should go up and check on them again as fries shouldn't take that long to cook. I spoke to the cashier again who after checking told me the cook had forgotten to make them. He shouted at the cook and gave me my money back, promising I'd still get my fries. Another 10 minutes passed. Everybody at my table thought the whole fiasco was hilarious. I was starving and starting to get a little frustrated by the level of incompetence demonstrated by the cook at this fast food stand. Egged on by my companions I got up to complain. The cook had once again gone AWOL so I spoke to the cashier. He quickly ran out the back and returned with my with my fries. They'd obviously forgotten about me again but at least I was now in possession of the long-awaited fries. A little later on the cashier came over to apologise and offered me a refill of my drink. I declined and he said I could 'hit him up' for a free drink later. I never did 'hit him up' but added this to my list of must-use American phrases.

A little annoyed about the delay caused by the whole fries debacle I hit the road again in a hurry. I still had another 20 miles to cover and time was running out before it would be dark. Luckily the last section of the ride was very flat and I was blessed with an incredible tailwind. At times I was cruising at up to 30 miles per hour on the flat. At this speed I would have stood a good chance of outrunning a bear. I couldn't resist stopping briefly to take a look at a beach littered with a colony of Elephant Seals. The males were fighting each other and gently growling. I much preferred their quiet battles to the incessant honking of the sea-lions.

I was the last of my group to arrive at Washburn Campground. As I entered I stopped to read a sign warning of the presence of Rattlesnakes. It's fun to have something else to worry about when camping. I split the cost of a campsite with Luke, Jenna, Chris, Brooke and Dave. Chris had broken a spoke on his back wheel. This was a reasonably serious problem that needed to be fixed without delay. I tried to help him remove the cassette from his back wheel using a special tool I bought for exactly this problem. Unfortunately it didn't work. Chris managed to bend a spare spoke of the wrong size and get his wheel into a rideable state. He would need to get the wheel fixed properly at a bike shop the next day.

We all ate dinner together and chatted until late. All the American's quizzed Dave and I about various differences between our cultures. They seemed puzzled by our use of both imperial and metric measurements amongst many other things.

I went to bed content having completed a very challenging ride without too much difficulty. I was even more pleased to have met up with another group of excellent people to ride and camp with on this second leg of the trip.

Day 51 – 47 miles

I woke from a terrible night's sleep. This was the noisiest campground I'd ever stayed at. I had been kept awake by kids playing drinking games until late. Then there were the sea-lions. It is my belief that sea-lions operate a shift system to ensure they maintain a constant irritating barking sound that can be heard from more than a mile away. Half the colony sleep whilst the other half honk incessantly. When the honkers grow tired they wake the sleepers and swap places. To make things worse a hobo had arrived late and set up his tent next to mine. He had a queen size air bed with a battery-powered pump. The pump made a noise like a tractor straining to pull a trailer up a steep hill. At around 5am he turned on the pump again, I guess to top up the mattress. What annoyed me more than the noise itself was the sonic reminder that this homeless guy was sleeping in greater comfort than me.

There were a number of shabby tents in the hiker/biker area belonging to homeless people. As I was packing my tent away I was surprised to see a man emerge from one of these tents dressed smartly for work. He headed into Monterey. Presumably this was his daily commute to the office.

I cycled back down the hill and through Monterey following a cycle path along the coast. I noticed an informative sign about Harbour Seals in the area. I noticed directly in front of the sign a Harbour Seal was sitting on a rock. I wondered for a moment if the Monterey Tourist Board had glued the poor seal to the rock.

The next section of the ride was on a private road called 17 Mile Drive. This road is so scenic its owners charge motorists $9 to drive its length. Luckily they let cyclists ride it for free. The road winds along the coast passing impressive rock formations and huge crashing waves. I saw plenty of cyclists along the route including the supported tandem tourers I spoke to a few days back and also Chris and Brooke.

The ride ended with the lead up to Big Sur. This beautiful area is where high coastal mountains meet miles of stunning coastline. It was a hot day, the first in quite some time. I was starting to feel the benefits of moving south. As I descended into the town of Big Sur I was passed by the team of tandem riders. One of them shouted, 'We're staying at the Big Sur Inn.', gesturing that I should join them. I'd already made plans to meet my new gang at Pfeffer State Park campground but I loved this kind of camaraderie so common between bikers out here.

I arrived at the campground. Dave, Chris, Brooke, Luke and Jenna had already setup camp. There was a shortage of picnic tables and Chris and Brooke generously offered to share theirs with me. As I set up my tent the others suggested we all take a swim in the river. It was a hot day but I suspected the water would be very cold so I wasn't too sure it sounded like a good idea. However, I had been carrying a pair of swimming shorts with me since Canada without ever using them. In this world where every gram of luggage has to be carefully accounted for I decided I should break out the shorts. I joined the others at the river. It was shallow, clear and fast flowing. Luke was first to take the plunge. I paddled in and before long my feet felt numb with the coldness. It felt to me like the river was fed by melt-water from a nearby glacier. Against my better judgement I plunged my entire body backwards into the water. The only way to deal with water this cold is to go for complete and immediate submersion. Every muscle in my body compelled me to jump back out of the water and scream like a girl. For about 2 seconds I imagine those watching mistook me for a tough guy. As I sprung from the water yelping the illusion was quickly shattered. I was wet now so figured I should get back into the water. I led back and let the water carry me downstream for a moment. It was invigorating and painful all at the same time.

Next to the river Luke pointed out some Poison Oak. I'd never seen this before. He explained that it's extremely dangerous and if touched can make the skin blister badly. I love discovering new dangerous things in the woods.

My new gang of bikers gathered to discuss where we should camp the next day. It seemed our best option was over 70 miles away. Big Sur is a very mountainous area so not only was I looking at a very long ride but it was also filled with challenging terrain. I wasn't sure I was up to the ride but was keen to stay with my new gang as we were having so much fun together already.

For dinner I joined Chris and Brooke at our picnic table. We'd all bought beer at the local shop which was a great treat at the end of the day. I really enjoyed getting to know Chris and Brooke better. They were both really generous and funny people.

As I returned from the bathroom just before going to bed a voice spoke to me from somewhere within the darkness of the forested campground. I said hello and then realised who it was. The annoying alcoholic from the camp site the previous night had managed to cycle here to Big Sur. He'd arrived several hours after dark and was drunk. He proudly showed me a pair of deer antlers. I asked where he'd found them. 'Roadkill!', he proclaimed proudly. I instinctively backed off a little. I was imagining this horrible drunk man on his hands and knees at the side of the road sawing off the antlers from a deer's corpse. He told me that he intended to attach them to the handlebars of his bike. I quickly made my escape and went to bed. I was glad we would be riding such a long way tomorrow. There was no way this guy would catch us 70 miles south.

I knew I had to get up early if I had a hope of completing the ride the next day so I set my alarm for 6.40am.

The New Gang - Day 50 – 44 miles

I awoke to a thick wet fog and was amazed to see a guy sleeping without a tent. He was lying asleep in his sleeping bag on his thin inflatable mattress. It was pretty cold but when I asked him about it he'd had a good night's sleep and was perfectly happy with his minimal camping setup.

I spoke with an English guy who had been camped next to me. He was the first English person I'd met so far. It was good to experience dry cynicism again. His name was Dave and he was riding from Alaska to Argentina.

My hand was still swollen and painful but I was pleased to find it didn't hurt too much once on the bike. I altered my hand position to minimise further problems.

The ride started well, taking deserted, poorly maintained back-roads through farmland. Farming happens on a different scale in California to the way in which we do things back in England. It was interesting to see the endless fields of Brussel sprouts and artichoke extending to the horizon. Huge teams of Mexican farm workers tended the fields.

Later on I met with Dave again. We biked together and talked about Mexico. Dave had previously ridden through Africa so had a great deal of experience of riding through poorer countries with few amenities. I asked about how much water I should carry and various other concerns I had about biking through the desert.

My camera had been broken for a couple of days. It hasn't been quite right since I took it on the log flume at Thorpe Park just before my trip began. One of things I've really enjoyed on this trip is photographing some of the amazing things I see everyday. I noticed a Walmart near the bike path we were riding on so stopped by to look for a camera. I found a decent camera, it was a fair bit cheaper than I'd be able to get it for in England so I didn't feel too bad about having to spend all that money.

I entered Monterey and began a very steep climb to Vets Memorial State Park where I would be staying the night. Dave had already set up camp and so had the couple I'd met a couple of nights before at Half Moon Bay. A dirty, drunk old man walked into camp noisily talking at anybody who would listen. Dave bore the brunt of his monologue about the cyclists he'd met. He talked about the many nationalities of bikers and wide selection of bikes he'd come across. It was as if he thought his experience was unique. We have all of course met many different bikers throughout the course of our journey but he had no interest in anybody else's views or experiences. Obnoxious alcoholics like this can really ruin the usually friendly and safe feeling experienced in hiker/biker campgrounds. My tolerance for California's many outspoken transients was beginning to wear thin.

The best thing about my home for tonight was a long picnic table at the centre of the campground. This provided a good social place to gather for dinner. I started to get to know the couple I'd spoken to briefly a couple of days before. Their names were Chris and Brooke. They were on their honeymoon just like Beth and Brian. Also at the table were Luke and Jenna. I'd seen these 2 a few weeks back in Oregon but had never really spoken with them before. Everybody was in good spirits and we all had plenty of shared experiences to laugh about. We started to jokingly discuss forming a biker gang and agreed to meet up at a campground the next night.