Baptism by wind

Leaving San Francisco over the mighty Golden Gate bridge, we dropped into pretty Sausilito. A former fishing village about to implode from cuteness, it was a flat and easy first day of 50 miles as we passed through the city’s fringe. Our first night’s camping was icy cold, but the novelty kept us warm and we were up and out early the next day.

The next few days were a challenge. The Californian coastline is as majestic as Victoria’s Great Ocean Road, but as we have learned, everything in The USA is bigger. The view was tempered by the fiercest headwinds we had ever experienced.

We didn’t feel alone though, there were plenty of cyclists on the road they were all going the other way. We were to discover later, from Californian locals, that these were the most consistent and reliable wind patterns in the United States. Everyone we met, thought we were crazy. We dreamed of taking the train.

It wasn’t to be. The nearest trainline was at least a few days cycle inland. Not an easy way out. So on we pushed, and pushed.

The roads in California were the only thing that left us wanting. The locals call it the Californian pave. Despite its massive economy, the state of California is broke. Unable to raise taxes, they have just stopped spending. They have even threatened to close state parks to save money. As it It turned out, they are still all open and full.

This is the American summer vacation and the Americans love camping. Getting back to nature, with their double decker sized campervans, The locals take with them more creature comforts than a Harvery Norman store. Many of these RVs chugged past us on the road towing boats, quad bikes, bicycles, canoes and four wheel drives behind them.

We tried to resent them in their air conditioned comfort, as we struggled up the road. But, when we were handed a margarita by our neighbours, in the caravan park, these feelings melted. A 100 proof margarita after a 60 mile cycle is a powerful thing.

All along the coast, people were warm and generous, we have received nothing but encouragement and interest from the people we’ve met so far. In fact we are stunned by how friendly folks are here. It’s like visiting a Beckley household every day. Even truckers slow and give us a wide berth.

Our first real hill climb was the hill leading to Leggett. When the wind wasn’t blowing it was hot. After the punishing incline, we thought we’d deserved a hearty lunch. We sat down at the Leggett roadstop and ordered Mexican chili cheese fries a burger and a pizza on the side. Delicious. Big mistake. The rest of the day was painful and slow. We’d just learned the hard way to eat little and often.

To conclude this fine meal, Lauren’s tooth broke. It was five days before she could see a dentist.

At the end of this eventful day, we ached for a shower, as it turned out the local campsites were completely full. We found a spot beside a river, had a dip and slept hoping bears didn’t travel this far south.

Still alive the next day, we pushed onto to Ferndale, in time for the 4th of July celebrations.

Next: the national holiday….