California part III: Solo down the Pacific coast

I wave goodbye and exchange hugs with the people that have been making us feel so welcome in San Francisco. It’s both exciting but also super strange to set off alone. It takes some time to drive out of this hilly city. It’s gloomy all day and the marine layer is laying a thick fog along the seaside. For weeks we’ve been hearing that the pacific coast highway is supposed to be amazing. I just don’t get to see it yet. The day is grey and it reflects on my mood. At exactly 4pm the fog layer retreats along the whole coastline, like a cloth gets pulled away from a table.

Finally sun! I try to find a good camping spot and stumble upon a nice beach. It takes my last energy reserves to push my bike through the beach sand. The beach is still busy with surfers and other beach guests. When the last people leave I put my tent in a small cavity in the cliff wall. An hour later I get surprised by the high tide: wet feet.

I realize that it’s so much easier to camp together than alone. With two it’s just much more reassuring to pick a spot and it feels much safer.

I wake up early and tell myself to never camp on sand again. Even my breakfast is surprisingly crispy. I pass Santa Cruz with a weird theme park right on the beach and pass other cute European-looking towns. Then I start meeting other long-distance cyclists! I cycle together with Willy for a while. He’s a German guy that’s also heading to Argentina as final destination. We also meet a French couple. Unfortunately the French couple is way too slow and Willy needs to get his bike fixed in Monterey, so it’s just me again. I cycle through strawberry fields. The fog is back today and this time it’s here to stay.

The road is beautiful with a rugged coastline and scenic bridges over cliffs along the ocean. The goal today is Big Sur State Park that I’ve heard has hike-and-bike* camp spots. This however means I have to bridge 135km today. I arrive at 7pm. The camp spot is beautiful with the characteristic tall Sequoia trees that shoot high into the sky. I meet some cool American bikepackers that are covering the stretch from San Francisco to Los Angeles and join their campfire.

* Spots for hikers or cyclist which don’t need a reservation and only cost 5USD.

In the morning I get to talk with a lady that is here for the wedding of her daughter. I tell about myself and the fact that I’m pursuing my long lasted dream of cycling from North to South America. She has to wipe off a tear that is rolling over her cheek. Sometimes I just forget how very special it is what I’m doing and fortunately there are other people to help me remind this.

Blue skies in the morning today, finally! Just in time for the most beautiful stretch of the pacific coast highway that I’m being treated to today. Every five minutes I stop to make exactly the same picture. It’s just breathtakingly beautiful. The road meanders up and down alongside a coastline where waves crash fiercely on the boulders that are spread out in the water.

My navigation says that I’m going to set a record elevation gain of 1800 meters today.

I’m aiming for another state park with hike-and-bike spots in San Simeon, but to my disappointment this time they cost 10USD. Nevertheless I pitch my tent and I feel the wonderful camping vibes again, it reminds me of the times I camped with my parents when I was young.

I would like to use this paragraph to reiterate how hospitable Americans are. This night alone I’ve been given the following:

• Quarters for the shower
• Lamb chop from a friendly campsite neighbor
• A lighter for my stove from two friendly motorbike neighbors.

My homemade ‘business cards’ (just my name, website and Instagram) are flying out of my wallet.

My legs hurt when I wake up. I’ve been pushing hard the last days. These hike-and-bike sites are just so nice, but just a little bit far apart. I make a plan and routes for the next days, because I have some night stops that I want to utilize and also for my San Diego friends to know when I arrive. Today an easy day of 80 kilometers. Crazy to think this is an easy day, but compared to the last days it’s just way shorter. I pass the smallest village ever with a sign saying “Population: 18”.

I fantasize about the fact that this makes it a little bit too easy for somebody with a little ambition to become mayor of a town.

Tonight I sleep at another place with a hike-and-bike campsite. This time however it’s not in a scenic National Park but in an RV-park in the midst of huge RV’s and trailers. It makes for a funny contrast. Another funny contrast I see this evening is a Tesla with a surfboard strapped to the roof: Welcome to Southern California!

Half of the United States’ fruits and nuts are harvested in California and I’m cycling right in the middle of it. I smell coriander. Little groups of workmen are picking the fields and I think most of them are Mexicans. Straw hats and long sleeves protect their bodies from the sun.

Then suddenly a flat! My pump broke down weeks ago and I’ve been using Jacko’s pump the last weeks. However Jacko and his pump are far away now. I’m stranded next to a highway, but no houses or other civilization near me. There’s no other way than to start waving cars down. Knowing the American hospitality by now, my expectation is it won’t last long. American hospitality is letting me down though. I viciously wave, but people in their cars look at me as if they see water burning.

After an hour a guy stops over, but of course he doesn’t have a bike pump for me. Then another car stops and tells he lives 5 minutes away and will drive up and down to get a pump. Hallelujah.

Tonight I stay with Nicole, my friend Rijkaard’s girlfriend. I’ve never met her but of course heard a lot about her. A week ago Rijkaard texted me that Nicole lives in Lompoc and that it will be on my way. I contact her to ask if I can drop by and she tells me I can. However, she thinks I’ll drop by for a coffee. Meanwhile I think she understands that I need a place for the night. Miscommunication. A few quick calls with her landlord and the problem is solved. I meet her landlords Lee and Wayne and we have a nice evening in the backyard with a cozy campfire. I sleep on the soft carpet in the living room.

Nicole has to bounce early, but that’s fine for me because I have a long day in front of me anyway. Except for a hill in the morning the day is relatively flat with a bunch of tailwind. When I reach Santa Barbara the route leads me next to white sandy beaches. It’s Sunday and the beaches are filled with people barbequing. Perfect lunch spot. When I’m about to attack another one-star-lunch merely consisting of sandwiches and peanut butter I get stopped by a friendly man inviting me to join their group and their 5-star-lunch consisting of hamburgers, potato salad and pie. Way better!

From Santa Barbara onwards I really get those California vibes: white beaches, palm trees, sun and surfers everywhere. After 140 kilometers I go for a well deserved beer at the pier in Ventura.

Back in June Lake we met some folks that invited us to stay over at Ventura. I texted them a few days ago and the offer still stood. Cindy is not home, but David is. I meet him at the backyard. A shower and laundry later we are in Ventura town attacking a hamburger. 

It’s easy to chat with this long-bearded friendly man. I like him. His eyes twinkle when he tells one of his crazy stories about fighting bears and being dropped on uninhabited islands for his work.

When we are headed home he asks me if I know what the grunion run is. I have no clue. He tells me it is a type of fish and that their mating ritual happens only during full moon and the highest tide. The ritual consists of thousands of females washing up on the beach, digging their asses in the sand and depositing their eggs in the sand. Apparently an amazing sight and you are allowed to catch them but only with your bare hands. And guess what? Tonight the grunion were possibly going to run. So suddenly I find myself sitting cross-legged on the beach in the pitch dark with David on my side. With the tide getting higher and higher we watch the beach left and right of us with excitement. We expect thousands of fish to wash ashore every moment. The grunions don’t run that night. We go home empty handed but I had fun anyway.

Another day roaming the shores of the Pacific ocean. Here and there interrupted by some naval bases. I spot dolphins. It’s fun to cycle along these coasts because so much is happening on these beaches. I pass Malibu, the town that is the setting of the sitcom Two and a Half Man. I reach Santa Monica which has a full-on theme park right on the pier.

Tonight I arranged to stay at a WarmShowers host. Zach is the young man’s name and I can occupy his old room at his parents’ house. They are super relaxed.

Zach just came back from a long distance bike adventure himself cycling all the way to China. Like so many others he’s paying back the gratitudes that he received on his trip by providing a room to fellow cyclists. Mom, dad and son take me out for a hamburger in downtown Santa Monica and it feels like I’m their other son. At night I say goodbye to Zach. He lives on his boat now and has to give surf lessons in the morning. At night I hit the hot tub with his father David and talk about life and the decisions you make.

All day I see people enjoying the beach and the sea. In the afternoon it’s my turn. I park my bike next to one of the lifeguard towers and enjoy the sun an the sea. I make our famous tuna-salad-on-a-bun and enjoy some beers from the liquor store. Some sort of neighborhood party is crashing my dinner, or am I crashing their party? They like my story and they ask me if I can take the microphone and the stage to tell my story. Fortunately the program is too busy and I can sneak away.

I still have a good 15 kilometers to go to Irvine, LA. My friend and ex-colleague Mustafa is in LA for business so this is a perfect chance to see him. When he tells me the exact address it’s another 10 kilometers uphill and I make it to The Hilton late at night and completely drained. Luckily I’m sleeping in a hotel bed tonight.

I also think that today I’m hitting an all-time record for showers in a row. Seven consecutive showers is just a remarkable number for a bike tourist.

I don’t think they’ve ever witnessed somebody at the Hilton breakfast buffet that ate this much. Mustafa and his colleagues are away early for their business meetings and I am chilling hard at the hotel reception. WiFi, a toilet, air-conditioning and comfortable chairs: what else does a bike tourist want? I also meet some Australian businessmen that appreciate my story and give me a lot of food that they say they don’t need. I cycle back to the coast.

I reach Carlsbad and let Jeroen and Valentina know where they can meet me. They both are my friends from back when I used to live in San Diego. Jeroen is the reason why I already started cycling without Jacko, he will leave San Diego in two days.

Jeroen will camp with me tonight and cycle the last stretch together with me into San Diego tomorrow. But first we have a nice dinner with the three of us. After dinner we unload his bike from the car and wave Valentina goodbye. I tell him we can get some beers at the liquor store, but I forgot that people here actually have money to spend. He takes me to a pub. And another one, and another one. The tequila shots probably were not a good idea. We ask people if we can pitch my tent in their backyard but have no luck. After closing time we start looking for a place to sleep. With foggy minds from the alcohol we decide to sleep in our sleeping bags next to the bay. We do see some homeless people walking around as well, but we are to sleepy to care.

With some severe headache we wake up at the bay. Still a bit tipsy we pack our bags and start making our way to San Diego. Every ten kilometers we stop for either coffee, breakfast or a coke. Basically anything that can give us a small break from the pedaling and to nurture our throbbing heads for a moment.

I’m totally ecstatic when we reach San Diego. Everything is so familiar here. I’ve cycled these roads, I’ve surfed these beaches and I’ve driven these highways. 

Although I’ve only lived here for half a year, it felt like I lived here for two years. It feels like coming home. We crash at Jeroen and Valentina’s place for a bit. In the afternoon we go surfing. It strangely seems like I’ve become a better surfer by not surfing for two years. In the evening I meet all my friends that I haven’t seen for two years. We order food and make a bonfire on the beach. It’s great to catch up with everybody. Happy and satisfied I crash on Jeroen and Valentina’s couch that night.

I end up staying one and a half week in San Diego. I go kayaking with Hans at La Jolla shores and spot seals and leopard sharks. We visit a Padres game with an absolute stunner of a last-minute win. I go sailing with Hans’ boat. Karel takes us along to his favorite breweries. We meet Todd and Sherrie again (from ‘Drinking beer and shooting guns in the desert‘) and we have an amazing day with their friends Julia, Peter and Hunter. I cruise the Sunset Highway in Rijkaards’ new car.

Its amazing to experience all the natural beauty of this city again. After a week Jacko joins the club and blends in fluently.

It’s been great being in San Diego again. On our last night we celebrate Hans’ birthday and it makes for a perfect goodbye for me too. It’s time for a new country now. New culture, new language, new traditions, Mexico here we come!