Total mikes 165
ciggis smoked 11
I’ve spent the last two hours singing songs about my vagina, I used to be a man but 150 miles of this miserable seat have ground me down from a rooster to a hen, I’m convinced I’ll never have sex again, not even with myself 🙁 Riding along side of the freeway I’m in pure heaven as traffic whizzes by me at 80 plus miles an hour. The lanes are wide and littered with tire poppers, the on and off ramps are tough and scary to negotiate but I’m almost relaxed for the first time since leaving Lopez. I meet my first two southbound cyclists on the road, there have been a few in camp but very few and not a single cycle tourist since leaving. They are cute and bubbly and delightful. I also learn that there is a thing called a map and most cyclists are following it, it’s made by adventure cycling and I don’t have it. I just have a guide book that was last printed in 2005.
i wake up on a bed of nails, literally, my camp is all rocks and I didn’t sleep a wink, listening to the huge trucks driving by the hwy side campground. Honestly I’m scared, more scared than I have ever been, I’m rattled by yesterday’s riding and have much more of it today. Cranky and sleepy I break camp and hit the road. Once you start pedaling it’s go time, my first logging truck arrives at the exact second the shoulder vanishes. Today will be up hill all day. A flat on the side of the freeway has me walking Brompty with a ciggi hanging out of my mouth looking for a place that isn’t deadly to change a flat.
My Brompton tool fits inside my frame and is a work of art, my flat is fixed in 10 munutes but my legs have cramped with 17 miles left to go. I won’t be making the 74 miles to Westport today. Hopelessly lost I struggle into strong head winds, I’m sore everywhere and all I want is the coffee shop I’m now sitting in resting my tired bones.
notes, today was without a doubt the second most dangerous day of my life but it opened into a beautiful ramble through slow time forgotten valleys, a now defunct nuclear reactor caught my interest as did all of the small towns where every single store was out of buisiness. Still no bike shop but lots of gun stores, this is trump county. Looks like rain tomorrow and I will finally reach the coast.
Current, I’m sitting in a coffee shop soaked to the bone, I’m near my breaking point, today will be a rest day while I regroup…