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Well, we made it!
The trip ended with: 8 flat tires, 7 new friends from the road, 6 bug bites on each leg, 5 mountains over 800 ft., 4 girls, 3 news appearances, 2 Clif Builder Bars left, 1 raccoon knocking at our tent, and 0 bee stings.
The last leg of the trip, while lacking in hills, made up for its flatness by challenging us with traffic jams, roads in need of maintenance, busy city streets, and that Southern California anti-hitch-hiker attitude.
We picked up an old pal in San Luis Obispo, where our Southern California culture shock started. All of a sudden I felt like it wasn’t okay that I hadn’t shaved my legs in nearly 3 weeks. I found my stench offensive, Lindsey no longer felt she could dump her sandy shoes out in the french fry basket, and friendly sides of the road to pee on where a rarity. We found ourselves having to look for establishments like Starbucks to relieve ourselves in, because going through so many congested towns down here, it’s not really appropriate to just squat in a flower bed on the sidewalk.
Having Ms. Danielle Perrecone around was a treat. We got to laugh at and envy her kickstand. She made us feel like experts on all things bicycle, because we got to make fun of how she packed her bike and teach her all about switching gears and changing tires.
On her first night, we stayed in Pismo Beach. We started to feel like we were at home, as we rolled into a coastal town and ordered up some burritos. But when we got to our campsite, we started to get worried. As we headed over to the Ranger, we noticed that the other vehicles in line to get in were all young lads with lip piercings in giant trucks with orange flags stuck to the back.
The Ranger warned us that this was an ATV park and we said, “oh well that’s fine.” He pointed to the beach and told us to head a mile South on the beach, and to camp high enough to avoid the TIDES and the TRAFFIC. …WHAT? So we destroyed our bikes for a mile riding them on the sand to get to the campsite, and saw ATVs, RVs, and big trucks, riding up and down an imaginary highway ON THE BEACH! it was pretty wack.
We didn’t set up the tent because it was nice out, but we all woke up every half hour to make sure we weren’t going to get run over by an ATV on its way to a jump.
We got the heck outta there bright and early and headed on to Santa Barbara County. This was the biggest day Danielle would have with our crew. We went up two 950 peaks and one 650 peak, and we did it well. It was a hot day and we got to take a nice break when Lindsey got a flat tire. We descended into Gaviota, where we camped by a state beach and a raccoon.
We finally got stuff for s’mores. But before we roasted ‘em up, we asked about the hot springs that were 2 miles away. The man who runs the camp store gave us a ride in his car filled with a cat dish with water still in it, a carborator, and other stuff that shouldn’t be in a car. We got to where the hot springs were supposed to be, and started hiking up to them. We encountered an ambiguous sign on the trail that headed us in the wrong direction. We went on a beautiful but very hot and steep hike (legs don’t have gears) and never found the hot springs.
It was nearly dark when we headed back, and decided that Southern Californians weren’t going to pick up hitch hikers, especially at night, so we strapped on our lights and started walking. On the freeway on ramp we encountered a squat little man with lots of bags.
“oh, perfect timing!” he said to us. “you guys gotta help me okay! Someone carry this bag for me.” He proceeded to tell us how great the hot springs (that we didn’t get to go in) had been, and that he bottled up the sulfur water and wanted us to help him carry it. I told him that Danielle was strong (part of her hazing) and we started walking with him, Danielle carrying the bottle of sulfur. He was crazy. We left him at the rest stop a mile down the way where he tried picking up a ride, looking crazy, at 9 pm with sulfur bottles all around him. The people he asked for rides were not very responsive.
Next we cruised into Ventura. I don’t remember much about the ride this day, but I think it was a typical 60 mile day that brought us into Ventura where we had a friend of my mom’s, Kim, put us up. She was the perfect hostess and we thought we were in heaven. Enchiladas, beer, jacuzzi, laundry, and a bunkbed with double mattresses were waiting for us. We were happy (non)campers for the night.
–>camp food<–
We said goodbye to Kim and her family and headed toward Manhattan Beach where Lindsey had people we could stay with. It was a windy day, but we found ourselves in the coastal Los Angeles area which we thought was pretty fun. We went through Malibu, looking for Matthew Machaunagay(sp?) napped near a nice beach, and descended onto the beach route, which was congested with beach cruisers so I got to make use of my BELL! “ding ding, comin’ through slow pokes.” Lindsey pointed out to some amatuer that his tire was flat, I pointed out to his amateur girlfriend that her kickstand was down,
and Stef pointed out to us that we passed by the site of the Saved by the Bell beach episodes, so we had to stop for pics.
We stopped in Venice where people were quite impressed by us. Especially these men from Africa, who told us how proud they were of us and gave us free tiny little animal carvings, and wrote blessings on our arms.
Venice took us in, and we decided to stop for margaritas since we were only about 5 miles from our destination in Manhattan Beach. Well, those margaritas went to the dome, and before our first pitcher was finished, we were shouting out requests for the new Paris Hilton song and receiving free beers from all directions and ordering all kinds of pizza. It was fun. The people watching, best in the world. We couldn’t leave. We stayed. Nope, didn’t make it to Manhattan Beach. Nope. Ask us in person for the stories.
Almost home!
After getting crazy in Venice, we really couldn’t ride a big day. So we did a 40-50 mile day to Newport. We didn’t get out untill 12:30, and the ride was really easy, mostly on the beach. We were coming into familiar territory and in really good spirits. We went through Redondo, but then we had to leave the coast and go through LA and Long Beach. It was grotie. Lots of traffic, lots of trash, lots of potholes. We made it through without any flats and our friend Chris and his cat snowball put us up. We got in late and took a dip in the freezing cold water.
LAST DAY! We zipped through this day because we knew our parents were waiting at the finish line with confetti, trophies, presents, a new car, etc. Newport, Dana Point, San Clemente, San Onofre, Camp Pendleton, we worked them all.
We started getting emotional in San Onofre, where we saw the San Diego County Line. I’m not gonna lie, I was gettin teary. I rang my bell and we told everyone we passedd that we came from Seattle. Four little gromits told us we were liars. We’re not.
Going through Camp Pendleton was educational. We got to see what really goes on down there, and had to wait at one point for a tank to cross. Camp Pendleton spit us out in Oceanside and we whizzed on home. When we got to Leucadia (1 mile from the finish line), we dirtied ourselves up and put grass in our helmets so our parents would see how hard core we are. Getting back on our bikes, Newcomer Danielle noticed her tire was flat. We spent about 20 mintues dealing with that, and called the finish line to tell them to hold their horses. After we fixed that, we got back on the road, and Stef said, “guys, ride fast, cuz now I have a flat.” We pumped her up the hill before the finish line, and the four of us rode side by side, gloriously up the finish line.
Hi family! Confetti and margaritas! No trophy, no presents. That’s okay, we only rode our bikes from Seattle to San Diego. It’s not like we started in Canada or something.
Oh goodness. So we’re home, give us a call!
It was fun. Thanks to everyone for their comments and support. It really helped! See ya’ next time when we rollerblade to Las Vegas.
