The rhythm of riding and the Golden Gate

My first days of riding with Dan and Will were difficult, as we rode through Washington’s mountains towards Oregon. I rode with SWAE nearly 260 miles to Hood River in those three days, sore from long mileage, tired and dreading every moment I had to hop back onto my bike.

The rides through Washington and Oregon feel like they were in another lifetime and now, instead of dreading the next ride, I relish the opportunity to get back onto my steel steed.

Fog engulfs the coast as we rode along Highway 1. The rolling hills were a welcomed change from our grueling rides.

We left the tiny town of Westport, Calif. on Thursday, July 23, fog engulfing the coast like a specter from the sea. Our first full day of riding on Highway 1 was a welcomed change to the rugged, steep and hot uphill battles we experienced throughout Washington and Oregon. The hills of Highway 1 were simple and we were able to see the crest of each incline with every push of our pedals as we rode.

Up one hill, through fog and a cool sea breeze, down the other side, gliding through the dip and meeting the next hill at a consistent pace. The road felt like waves in their own rite and we skimmed the surface like surfers in the waters of the Pacific.

The coastal highway set me into a rhythm as I rode with Dan. My gears clicked briefly as I shifted up and down with the inclines and declines of the road. My legs moved my pedals, one foot over the other, the constant sound of my chain churned to create the motion necessary for me to ride forward. The sound of my tires on the pavement, buzzing with every push of my pedals. My breathing was steady, in and out, through my nose, out my mouth. I could almost taste the salt on the wind rushing from the sea to the west.

During times that the fog cleared, we had a view from Highway 1 of a picturesque coastline full of color.

Highway 1 was straightforward and stress free, which made for ideal riding conditions. As we pressed on down the coast, we were continually greeted by other groups of cyclists of all ages, enjoying the rolling hills and co0l temperatures that the California coast provided. Everyone we met who had ridden the coast before told us we were “in for a treat” the rest of the ride to San Francisco.

So far, the scenery had been gorgeous, but the fog had put a damper (literally) on our ride. We arrived in Point Arena Thursday evening and ate huge burritos at the Pirates Cove. Dan, Will and I were lucky enough to make it to the town before the restaurant closed.

A woman named Adell was kind enough to let us sleep in her yard and the next morning, took us out to the port for breakfast. Point Arena was a town of approximately 300 people and a well-known point for surfers of all skill levels. The breakfast hut was filled with surfboards and pictures of the locals lined the walls.

A surfer paddles out to meet the waves along the bay at Point Arena.

Friday consisted of a 95-mile ride to Point Reyes Station, 40 miles from San Francisco. We met two young cyclists along the ride and were excited to find out we all had quite a bit in common.

Christian and Miles were film students from Los Angeles. They were on their first cycling tour and were also going from Canada to Mexico. They had been documenting their trip through film and were riding to raise money for the World Bicycle Relief. Check out their Website at www.conquertheland.com.

Dan and I arrived in Point Reyes Station at 8:00 p.m. Will had ridden ahead of us and throughout the ride, we wondered where he had gone.

There was an intersection just outside of the agrarian town of Tomales and Will had taken a 20-mile detour, inland to Petaluma. Dan and I shared a laugh about Will’s adventure, but were relieved to hear from him as he met back up with us at around 9:30 p.m.

Will chats with Kevin and his daughter Ruby in their backyard in Point Reyes Station before our ride to San Francisco.

We ate another big burrito and afterward attempted to find a place to sleep. I had several doors shut on me before Dan knocked on Kevin and Rhonda’s door. The couple had moved to Point Reyes Station eight years ago, just before their daughter Ruby was born. Kevin let us into their backyard, treated us to a beer in the evening and then gave us coffee in the morning.

I was excited to get to San Francisco on Saturday morning. We rode out of Point Reyes Station with only 40 miles left between us and the Golden Gate Bridge. From Point Reyes Station, we traversed a higher section of Highway 1 that wound along the cliffs of the coast, above the low-hanging clouds floating above the beach below.

Our first glimpes of the Bay Area as Dan rides along the sidewalk towards the Golden Gate Bridge.

More cars, traffic lights, more cyclists, more people in general. This was our first real interaction with a bustling city since we were in Bend, Ore.

Tourists, walking and cycling, lined the streets of San Francisco as we rode into town. A bike path led us towards the Golden Gate Bridge. The spectacle of the massive structure attracts thousands of people to the city each year.

The bridge was everything I had imagined and it stretched for at least a mile as we rode across.

Dan and Will at the beginning of the Golden Gate Bridge. Fog engulfs the top of the massive structure, making it impossible to see the top.

The large, orange-bronze structure reached up into the sky, engulfed in a constant fog so the tops of the bridge remained invisible. Wind gusts made riding across the bridge interesting, particularly since there was so much foot traffic. I stopped to take several pictures and was surprised at how powerful the winds were, like a fan turned on high, as I stood and stared out from my vantage point.

We will spend the next week in San Francisco, as an incredible concentration of outfitters call the Bay Area their homes. Elliot Bates has met back up with us and soon, SWAE’s riding team will consist of five people. More to come as I explore this metropolis and reinsert myself back into the city life.