Oct
06
2009
by Mr Cubes
Manchester to Salt Point State Park (41.1 miles)
Salt Point to Samuel P Taylor State Park (69.8 miles)
Total Miles: 3,566.5
Each night is getting substantially colder than the last and I awoke at 2am in Manchester thinking I may have been in Lancashire rather than California. Didn’t sound like I was the only one either as I could hear zips and voices coming from different directions.
I had hoped to leave quite early as it was a long day planned, but the bad night’s sleep had turned me lethargic. Ended up leaving just after 8am and was still the last to go. 
Straight after the town of Manchester the road returned to it’s now familiar format of long steep climbs and quick downhills. Wasn’t right on the coast though, so there wasn’t too much to look at except for the occasional strange building such as the lodge at St. Orres.
By lunchtime I had made it to the town of Gualala, which had a supermarket and enclosed pizza parlour. Amber and Steve were here too, so I chatted to them about their plans for San Francisco which would soon be approaching. They left allowing me to try and get a wi-fi signal which again proved impossible. They don’t like providing it for free too much in California.
There are a lot of dead animals along this part of the highway, mostly deer and skunks though you can tell the skunk a long time before you see it. Whatever potion it creates to warn off enemies must be released when it dies. Really quite foul.
Just I was starting to falter I got to Stewarts Point which had a charming store originally opened in the 1850’s but had closed just three years ago. Luckily they had also just reopened! Allowed me to get a drink and plan my next move as I now doubted I would get to Bodega Dunes as had been my initial plan. Salt Point State Park was another 10 miles down the road and was a nice big site; the only problem being it didn’t have any showers, but did have a sign warning of mountain lions. Just $4 though and I
had it all to myself for most of the afternoon till Russ and Laura, a couple I briefly met in Manchester, showed up. They are trying to live a life based around cycling having both quit their jobs and now just try to raise money wherever they can. Nice people and a pleasure to spend the evening talking with them.
After a fairly decent night’s sleep I was eager to leave early the following day, hoping to make up for some of the miles I missed out on. Though the nights are cold and early afternoon is extremely hot, the morning weather is often ideal for cycling and is the best time to try and get the miles under the belt for the day. First point of interest was Fort Bragg which I decided against looking at, partly as I have 
seen many forts before and partly because it was over 200 yards off of the highway. No point in tiring myself unnecessarily. Maybe could have done with a quick rest though as from then until Jenner, 10 miles farther on, it was some of the steepest coastal work I have had to do. Outrageously beautiful though.
Had expected to see Russ and Laura who left before me, but guessed they must just go quicker than me. Instead another solo rider fairly flew by me as I was struggling up one particular hill. Always surprises me to suddenly come across a new rider who I haven’t seen at any of the campsites or on previous days (though obviously he was travelling really light as well). He just overtook and carried on. I’m starting to realise that I’m actually the slowest rider out there…
Then there was an amazing downhill all the way into Jenner where sea lions were basking on the river bank for some sunshine and a few shops allowed me to get some lunch. The bays after Jenner were stunning and attracted many surfers and other sun worshippers. Was nice to take a break and watch for a little while, even though I can’t really see the attraction.
The rest of the day then went a bit weird. After stopping at Bodega Dunes and deciding it was too early to finish for the day I was forever looking for a good place to stop and just 
couldn’t quite find it. The road cut inland over lots of farms (hilly farms, obviously) and all the promise of a night by the ocean disappeared. I considered staying in Tomales after taking a break in the William Tell pub, but the prices were of the three-digit variety. Something I can’t really afford.
Hoping I could stay at each village that was just a few miles farther on I realised I was now not too far from the Samuel P Taylor State Park. The recommended last stop before hitting San Francisco. Therefore if I made it there today I could be crossing the Golden Gate tomorrow. And if that doesn’t get you motivated then God help you.
It took a long time and I was ready to drop by the time I got there. It was already dark and I struggled to put my tent up and make dinner in the dark. Wishing I had a head torch for those moments. Still, I had made it and was greeted by Steve and Amber who were now becoming quite good friends after seeing them so often. We talked more about plans for San Francisco and agreed that if we got there tomorrow together then we should all stay at the same hostel and have a night out. More motivation! I was pretty excited and struggled to sleep for some time, San Francisco has always been a city I’ve wanted to visit and now it was just under 30 miles away.
Oct
04
2009
by Mr Cubes
Garberville to MacKerricher State Park (67.6 miles)
MacKerricher to Manchester KOA (45.4 miles)
Total Miles: 3,455.6
After a day’s rest in Garberville to recover the legs a bit, I wanted to get some good miles in again. This meant a 70 mile day in intense heat over 2 massive hills. Bring it on.
By 10am it was already really warm and turning into a great day for riding. Along this part of the 101 the shoulder is so wide that I virtually have a whole lane to myself. Which is great as the road is busy with lots of lorries rumbling past at 70mph.
All of a sudden, the highway slimmed down to just one lane and went into Richardson Grove. First thing I noticed was The Legend of Bigfoot store, where eager tourists can buy fictional souvenirs. Not really sure what the point of it was, most of the things I saw on offer were completely unrelated to bigfoot.
Again, I should point out that this is marijuana country and I guess then it all makes a bit more sense. In the village of Richardson Grove was a few more stores and a house made out of a single redwood log. While I was looking at this a hippy came over to ask me if I was interested in joining the bike ride they are having to save the Grove from a planned expansion to the highway. I politely declined. The smell would be horrendous.
After bumping into another aging hippy on a bit of a climb I was ready to leave the 101 in favour of Highway 1 which turns off at the town of Leggett. Highway 1 starts with a long steep 
climb for over 4 miles before a stunning 10 mile descent where I almost lost control a couple of times as I tried to get the racing line. Luckily the road was really quiet allowing me to ride out in the middle of the lane. Another big hill followed, steeper but shorter and then dropped down to the coast again. The last few miles to the campsite were tough going but a nice bit of road to ride along. By the time I got there it was getting late and starting to darken so I quickly made noodles and showered before introducing myself to the other 2 Canadian cyclists at the site, Amber and Steve. As it turned out, I would get to see quite a bit of them over the next week. But then it was time for bed, absolutely knackered.
The next day’s riding was all along the coast and a stunning piece of coast it was too. It started off pretty cold and for the first hour I rode with my woolly hat on, something I had not worn since Northern Alaska.
Treated myself to an expensive omelette in Fort Bragg. A cheap looking diner that had desires to be so much grander. Everything was organic, took ages to cook and included a glass of orange juice at $4.50. An outrage!
As I left I saw the World Famous Skunk Train. Anyone actually heard of it? I have no idea what it was, why it’s called a 
skunk or how it is world famous, but after a couple of toots of it’s horn it disappeared and I returned to riding out to the coast. First town to pass through was Mendocino which someone had told me was famous for something, but I have long since forgotten what it might be. The tiring thing in Northern California is the lack of bridges. Not something I ever thought would trouble me, but instead of the bridges there were now big switchbacks where the road turns inland and drops down to cross the river at sea level before climbing back up to the top of the coast again.
Stopped at a tiny tourist village called Elk in time for lunch and had a European styled one with an Italian sausage ciabatta sandwich, with a complimentary French onion soup. Lush.
Then followed the biggest switchback of them all, dropping from 500ft and then 
climbing back again in just half a mile. Tiring stuff. Was then really flat and fast and out of nowhere appeared the Manchester Kampsite of America. Thought I should check out the prices and they were only charging $9 so signed straight up for that. Some other cyclists were already there and not long after Steve and Amber turned up too. I spent the evening making the most of the free wi-fi on offer and watching an American Football game that I totally do not understand. Still, I’m sure I’ll get used to it.
Oct
01
2009
by Mr Cubes
Redcrest to Garberville (32.9 miles)
Total Miles: 3,342.6
Having realised that the reason I had been so cold at night lately was my tent door zip being broken I was now in a position to make a temporary fix and had a much warmer night.
It’s still chilly first thing though, so instead of sitting around making up my porridge for breakfast I opted to cross the road to visit the Eternal Tree House and adjacent cafe. Well the tree house was open, but sadly the cafe wasn’t. Now having my mind set on a cooked meal I chose to cycle onto the next town Weott where I was sure I’d be able to grab something.
Wrong again, Weott had apparently suffered a massive flood in the 1960’s and never recovered. Just a 33ft post marking the high water level and a couple of 
houses. So onto the next town…Myers Flat which at least had a few stores. And a drive through tree. Unfortunately, and not sure if you’re noticing a theme here, all of these were closed. Except for a small coffee shop and market with a remarkably grumpy cashier. As this was now the only option I thought I should at least get something, but all he had to offer was one chocolate muffin. Well, that would do for now, so I took a seat outside in the hot sunshine and started to nibble away. A few minutes later the same cashier came rushing out screaming “What’s the big fudging deal about coffee anyway? What? They want a hug with it? It's just fudging coffee. Get the fudge over it!" Though there weren’t so many fudge references. I was amazed that in a town with a population of about 13, this guy had managed to get stressed out. Made me quite glad I don’t even like coffee…
Next stop was Miranda which looked much more promising. Several stores, a high school and a cafe! Yay! After failing once again to get a US Flag sticker for the bike, I went to the cafe and ordered a Mexican omelette. Americans really do know how to make a good omelette and I’m yet to have one that wasn’t hugely enjoyable. Just as I was finishing the entire high school population squeezed into the cafe which apparently doubles as the school cafeteria. I made a quick exit.
The last part of the Avenue of the Giants was quite enjoyable, though there was another town that was entirely closed down. I made that a total of five towns on the road and only one of them was actually providing any sort of service. Strange.
After this, it was back onto Highway 101 and struggling through the heat. The road was really fast though and I made good time to Garberville. The sun had taken it out of me though so I thought I should have a look around and try to find somewhere cheap to stay. Best deal seemed to be with the Sherwood Motel which also took the novel approach of changing their wi-fi password EVERY day. Garberville seemed an odd place, mostly young hippies and homeless people. There was also a very strong smell of marijuana which probably explained the hippies.
Was quite a nice place though and I finally managed to get my flag sticker here. I was planning to get a sticker for each country I pass through, but if I struggled so much in a country as proud of their flag as the USA, what hope for the rest of them?
Sep
30
2009
by Mr Cubes
Elk Prairie to Eureka (47.7 miles)
Eureka to Redcrest (55.6 miles)
Total Miles: 3,309.7
Over the last few days I had gotten into a routine of waking early and trying to get plenty of miles in before the day really heated up. As I was packing up my wet tent from the overnight rain this morning I notice another cyclist had arrived late the previous evening and was sleeping under a simple tarp. Would have liked to have seen that in Alaska.
I left the site at around 8am, just as the others all started to stir. It is starting to get quite cold at night even though the daily high is uncomfortable for cycling in.
As I cycled around the Elk Prairie after which the campsite was named, there were plenty of elk and deer grazing and they all seemed quite happy to let me ride by. The elk were a bit far away, even with my zoom lens but the deer were really close (at least I think they are deer…maybe they are elk, it’s not really my area).
After stopping for a second breakfast in the dive village of Orick, the road returned to the coast which meant more hills and then a huge lagoon. At the top of the third big hill of the day was Trinidad. A large town with quite a bit to look at. After failing again to get a map of California in both the gas station and the supermarket, I went for lunch in a diner by the sea. There were a couple of teenagers sitting next to me who were texting impossible questions to one of the answering services. They started with “Is there really a God?”, moving on to ask about the beginnings of the Universe and then went abstract with “Do you know my friend Dave Best?”. Annoying at first, but in the end I was trying hard not to laugh.
The cycle path then left the 101 again to weave through some open countryside and I noticed that although there are signs leading you off the highway, you might then be left to make your own decisions. I made a couple of wrong guesses before finding the right path over a huge footbridge. Confusing, to say the least.
After passing through the very busy town of Arcata, home to Humboldt State University and what seemed to be several million students, the path rejoined the 101 on the way into Eureka. Just as I was starting to tire a little a Kampground of America appeared which would fit the bill perfectly. These campsites are similar to the Eurocamps popular in Europe and still cheaper than nearly anything I found in Alaska or Canada.
Eureka is a big place and was very busy as I tried to ride through it the following morning. One particularly rushed lorry driver repeatedly beeped at me until I rode up onto the pavement. I gave him a nice European wave in return. Feeling a little bit miffed, my mood improved when I went to the visitor centre to pick up a free book showing all the cycle routes on the 101 in Northern California. This meant I didn’t need a map for awhile and I also could plan out campsites and know when the hills were coming (though this isn’t always helpful). Things got even better when I stopped at Ray’s Supermarket and was told it was Free Donut Wednesday – all customers get a free donut with no obligations! Land of the free and all that.
Was a hot day and not much to see or do, so when I saw a billboard advertising the Victorian Town of Ferndale, I was tempted to have a look and stop there for lunch. Unfortunately the town was a five mile journey off the 101, but am glad I went. Many beautiful buildings and a nice atmosphere and one of the best lunches I’d had for quite some time (be sure to visit the Victorian Inn).
It was the same five mile road back to the 101 and it was also straight into a strong headwind which meant the whole ten mile detour took almost two hours. 
The next few miles on the 101 were very dull and very hot. I’d been looking for the famous ‘Avenue of the Giants’, part of the original highway that is now a quiet side road to the ever expanding 101. The first thing of interest on this fascinating 31-mile detour is The Immortal Tree. Proven to be over 950 years old and known to have survived lightning strikes, floods, fires and attempts by loggers to chop it down, it is a shining example of the many huge redwoods covering the entire area. The downside of this area is the huge redwood needles that scatter the roadside and once back on the bike I realised I’d suffered another puncture. Luckily my campsite was only a couple more miles up the road and for some reason I am yet to understand, it was totally empty. Sleeping amongst these giant trees once again in total silence was a beautiful experience and one I continue to treasure. I was hoping they would continue all the way to San Francisco…
Sep
28
2009
by Mr Cubes
Harris Beach to Crescent City (31.6 miles)
Crescent City to Elk Prairie Campground (34.1 miles)
Total Miles: 3,206.4
Today I would pass into California, a place with no equal in popular culture. How would this long awaited event pan out? Would it meet or even exceed my expectations? I was pretty eager to find out, so made a point of getting up early and leaving the campsite before any of the other campers had even stirred from their tents.
After stopping in Brookings at the huge Fred Meyer (a two-storey supermarket) to pick up food for lunch, I took the detour through the harbour and then alongside Oceanview Drive. Some of the detours provided by the cycle route have been rather strange and not always worth the extra distance so I don’t always take them. This one, however, was a must and started the day off in good fashion. Right before the state line was McVay Rock State Park which had the eponymous rock just jutting out in the middle of nowhere. 
If only there was such a monument to actually welcome you into California. After passing a huge sign with ‘Oregon Hopes to See You Again Soon!’ on one side and ‘Welcome to Oregon!’ on the other I got my camera ready for the Californian version. It didn’t arrive. Instead, there was first an agricultural check point (which I was just waved through) and then a small wooden sign welcoming me to Del Norte County. Hmmm, and so it would turn out that for all my expectations of California, is is actually just the same as everywhere else. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem – I’ve been having a great time. More of the same will certainly work well for me.
The road to Crescent City was all flat which I was happy about due to the 
intense heat of the midday sun. Another detour took me away from the now busy 101 and through a couple of small villages and past a huge state penitentiary. In town there was all the normal coastal outlets: fast food chains and cheap motels. Having left Oregon, I now had no information on this section of the route so went off to find the visitor centre for maps and camping information. This is when I first came to realise the enormity of California. Considering it is longer than the entire length of the Great Britain, I guess it was foolish to think they might have something showing a bike route for the entire state. One thing they did show me though was an elevation chart for the ride to Elk Prairie Camp Ground. Once I saw this I decided to spend the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing. Frankly, I was terrified.
After a night in a very cheap Travelodge, I left Crescent City on a cold and cloudy morning. It took just a couple of miles before I was at the start of the first of the two climbs and I was trying hard to mentally get right for it. In the end, I didn’t need to worry…despite it being very steep, and long, it was also the start of the Redwoods State Park which completely took my breath away. 
Luckily, there was a rest area with information on these mammoth organisms to allow me to get my breath back again. It’s hard to capture the enormity and beauty of these trees, so instead I took a picture of me. Yeah. Eat your heart out George Lucas.
For anyone who is a fan of Star Wars, this was where the forest moon of Endor, home to the kick-ass teddy bear Ewoks, was created.
After a super fast descent back to sea level which gave me the opportunity to look back at the hill, I realised they never look so high once you’re on the other side. Another flat section followed before the second big climb of the day. This area was even more stunning than before. Although I had to stop a couple of times for, ahem, directions, I was enjoying the climb and my ham and cheese jalapeno rolls too.
The farther into the redwoods I got, the more impressive they became.
This is where I really appreciated being on a bicycle. Being able to stop and reach out at them, made me feel a part of the woods and I could sense the jealousy within every car that passed me by. It was a magical experience and unlike anything I had ever seen in the world before. Suddenly, California was living up to it’s reputation.
It had only been a short day in terms of miles, but with the two steep climbs and constantly stopping to pick my jaw up off the floor I had taken quite a few hours to complete it.
The campground at Elk Prairie was a popular one and it was nice to spend the evening chatting with the other cyclists about how ‘easy’ the hills were and trying to out superlative each other when describing the redwoods.
Sep
26
2009
by Mr Cubes
Humbug Mountain to Harris Beach (50.6 miles)
Total Miles: 3,140.7
Awoke nice and early and had a long chat with Uwe, the German that I had first met at Devils Lake Park. He was riding with his girlfriend on a gap year from work and was planning to fly to Australia once he got to San Diego.
Despite having a relatively leisurely morning I was still one of the first to leave and tackle the long, winding hill up around Humbug Mountain. As the road reached it’s peak, beautiful views of the coast were again exposed and I could see that
it was to be another hilly day.
Once down at sea level again, after passing a random tyrannosaurus rex, the road stayed flat for a little while before the ups and downs started. I took a nice long break at Ophir Rest Area where the other cyclists from the campsite all got a chance to overtake me. The road then led around to Gold Beach which involved crossing 
another long and busy bridge.
Gold Beach didn’t really seem to have much going on – a few cafe/restaurants and souvenir shops. Still, that was enough to allow me a decent lunch in one of the cafes overlooking the ocean and prepare for the huge hill that was today’s main course.
Four miles of climbing follow, never massively steep but just persistent. I pass an elderly gentleman pushing his bike and notice the strange collection of equipment he is carrying includes a bucket and several long pieces of wood. Odd. The hill can’t go on forever though and after 30 minutes I’m at the top and suddenly, a few seconds later, at the bottom again. A very fast descent with the cycle computer recording a top speed of 40.8mph!
Smaller hills continued to Harris Beach, as well as some of the scariest bridges of the trip. By now though, I no longer have the Fear and am quite happy to look over the sides to the crashing waves below, even on the Thomas Creek bridge (the highest on
the Oregon Coast at 342 feet).
Harris Beach State Beach is another huge and superbly maintained campsite that charges hiker/bikers only $4 per night. Such a contrast to the overpriced and under managed parks in Alaska and Canada. They even offer wi-fi here, though it isn’t free, it certainly shows the future of campsites continues to evolve. By the time I had cooked my dinner the site was fairly full and by now I was starting to recognise more and more of the other campers, so it’s always good to chat and compare our experiences of the day. Darkness is soon upon us so I’m happy to have an early night, ready for my first taste of Californication in the morning…
Sep
25
2009
by Mr Cubes
Coos Bay to Humbug Mountain (57.9 miles)
Total Miles: 3,090.1
Having spent my rest day in Coos Bay sorting through my gear to see what either needed replacing or discarding, I felt quite a bit lighter. I hadn’t worn my cleated cycling shoes for awhile and decided they were no longer an essential item. Hopefully I won’t be regretting that anytime soon.
The Oregon Pacific Coast Bicycle Route had taken a diversion before Coos Bay, so I was now left to my own devices. Sticking alongside Highway 101 seemed the safe bet as this road takes me all the way to San Diego. For some reason there was a road running parallel to the highway here with absolutely no traffic whatsoever, so I was happy to take that for the first few miles. I also noticed here that my cycle computer was no longer matching up with the mile post markers, due to my changing the front inner tube from a 26x2.0” to 26x1.5”. I’d forgotten that I needed to make this adjustment in the computer so after noting that I was clocking 1.05 miles to every one mile post I was able to make the adjustment at the end of the day. No cheating here!
The small tourist town of Bandon was where I had planned to spend my lunch break, but the wind was quite strong here making a picnic an uncomfortable affair. I looked in several of the souvenir shops for a US Flag sticker for the bike, but still nothing which seemed quite surprising – Canadian ones were available everywhere. Instead I just cycled on, munching on my lunch of cheese and ham jalapeno rolls as I went. Hopes were again raised when I entered Curry County, but this turned out to be it’s official name rather than an accolade. Shame.
After the official bike route rejoined the highway I overtook a Canadian cyclist called Bryan who seemed to be struggling in the heat and admitted to stopping every few minutes to pretend to look at his guidebook. A technique I had also adopted in the mountains of Canada. The strong wind is now at my back and I’m managing speeds of 25mph on the flat, so before too long I make it to the rest area of Battle Rock. An interesting history is displayed about the area, where in 1850 Captain William Tichenor hid out on the small island whilst waging war against the native Indians. He succeeded in 1851 making Port Orford the oldest recorded town on the Oregon coast.
After a short little coastal ride which gave great views out to the ocean, I was at the bottom of Humbug Mountain and Humbug Mountain State Park. The hiker/biker section was empty, but soon filled up as first Bryan, then others reached their daily target. I went for a quick hike up the mountain, but after a couple of miles was starting to worry about the light and unnecessary damage to my legs so turned back.
This is a spectacular part of the coastline and I’d enjoyed my day’s riding. No major hills for once today, though my elevation maps showed that would only last till the morning…