one hundred seventy five

The third floor game room. I can only imagine enjoying a winter day in this place. Watching a football game on the big screen, a warm fire in the gas fireplace, adult beverages (coffee for me), and good friends. The beauty of the Puget sound would pass the time between shots.

one hundred seventy four

A view from the ferry ride to the main land. The three story house in the center is where I stayed the night.

one hundred seventy three

The water was very clear. If you look closely you can see Salmon.

one hundred seventy two

This was taken from the Clinton Island shore. I watched this ferry make dozens of trips. Tomorrow I will be on board heading for Seattle.

one hundred seventy one

The begining of the ferry ride.

one hundred seventy

My bike is in the bottom right of the picture. The guy above was yelling something about being the king of the world.

one hundred sixty nine

SECURED FOR ROUGH SEAS

My bike was secured for the ferry ride. I made sure my helmet was also secure because on the east coast I almost lost it when it blew out of the back of the boat. 

Some nice people in a small fishing boat plucked it out of the water and found me. I had no idea what had happened to it until I heard them yelling. I was just about to head to the next town to buy a new one. Like I said before, people are really nice.

one hundred sixty eight

DIFFERENT THEN I EXPECTED

The north west is so much different than I thought. Familiar but so different.

one hundred sixty seven

FRESH OR SALT WATER?

Moving toward the Russian river in Washington, it was hard to tell where fresh water starts and salt water ends. This looks like a lake in Iowa, but there were signs of high and low tide. 

I talked to several locals about this unique environment. Several types of fish cross back and forth, but most are salmon. They were catching Rockfish and Coho Salmon in this area.

one hundred sixty six

HIGHWAY SONGS

The call of the highway has been a lifelong passion. My four speed '63 Corsair complete with an eight track player, nine inch coaxial speakers, and a constant diet of James Taylor, and Grateful Dead songs of the road. 

We lived in our cars in those days, traveling hundreds of miles of back country roads almost nightly, smoking Winston’s and drinking Scheduling Little King Ale. 

I wouldn't be caught dead on a bicycle in those days, but the highway had romanced my heart for life.

one hundred sixty five

SOCCER DISASTER 

I began my trip north through Sausalito. There is a bike path through most of it which was filled with joggers and bicycles. 

It passed by a soccer field with a very lively game in progress. However, as the action was focused on one end of the field there was a large dog relieving himself in front of the opposite goal. 

The action moved toward the stinky end of the field and the kids stopped in their tracks and began holding their noses. I was wondering what card the referee would use for this infraction. 

I do know the owned was half way home by now. For some strange reason I notice those special moments.

one hundred sixty four

GREAT PICTURE BY ACCIDENT

This is the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge. The size of it is even more amazing when you walk or ride across it. This shot was just luck, I had not planned this great angle.

one hundred sixty three

OPENING DAY STORY

I work in a grocery store where I regularly talked with a woman who walked across the Golden Gate Bridge the day it opened. She said it was a sunny day in 1937 and thousands of people packed the bridge from shore to shore.

Through the day they lost their little brother.  There were rumors that a few people had fallen over the side so they feared it was him. After a few hours of panic, they found him playing with friends. 

I have driven across the bridge dozens of times. It was part of my weekend bike ride. I rode from Noe Valley to Sausalito for coffee. Then back across the bridge then I followed the shore down the San Francisco coast line for another coffee. Then back to Noe Valley over Twin Peaks.

She talked about opening day like it was yesterday. I gave her a link to this blog, she had her great grandkids pull it up on their computer. She was pleased to see my pictures and read my words. She complimented me on my writing, as several others have. 

I had never thought much about being able to communicate in written words. However, in person I'm very accomplished at bull shit.

one hundred sixty two

A nice lady took my picture.The Golden Gate Bridge was just the beginning of a perfect day. I was off to Canada only a thousand miles north.

one hundred sixty one

Walter poses for another picture,as the morning sun warmed my bones. Walter is the name I gave to my bicycle. I depend on Walter after all of these miles.

one hundred sixty

A bed and breakfast just south of Legget California. I would love to see inside, but I don't think they would permit me to take my bike inside.

one hundred fifty nine

UNUSUAL FLOWERS

California flowers are beautiful. It seems just about everything will grow there because of the micro climates. San Francisco has the most unusual flowers I have seen in one place. They seem to match the rest of this unusual city.

one hundred fifty eight

The style of these classic houses caught my imagination. I wondered about their history and wondered about the current residents. This town is filled with intriguing places and intriguing people.

one hundred fifty seven

AMAZING CRAFTSMANSHIP

Many if these houses have been recently restored, the craftsmanship is amazing. I suspect they are the ultimate money pit project. The end products are like a walk though history. 

one hundred fifty six

THERE IS ALWAYS ONE

Nice garage if you don't mind climbing in and out of the car window. If the Village People had a Nascar driver he may have lived here.

one hundred fifty five

I'M CONFUSED

San Francisco has some beautiful but unusual architecture. Three entrances to a two story house?

one hundred fifty four

PERFECT VIEW

I have no words.

one hundred fifty three

UP AND DOWN THEN BACK UP THEN DOWN AGAIN

There was an endless cycle to the Pacific coast highway. It would run down close to the beach then a climb up to a vista. Then back down to the beach and back up to the next vista. Each cycle would include a twisted climb and decent. The road would have become frustrating if it wasn't so breathtakingly beautiful.

one hundred fifty two

CURIOUS COWS

Cows are not usually warm and cuddly pets. They are simply walking fermentation tanks that produce milk. Cows spend their lives taking grass in one end and dropping it out the other. 

I have worked farms and really love cows. These cows were unusual cows because they stopped eating and watched me for twenty straight minutes. I have been in areas so isolated that the cows walk a hundred yards to the fence to watch me ride by. 

Cows don't usually notice or care about people unless they have a bucket of oats or it is milking time. Perhaps I have spent too much time alone myself. The proof may be that I'm writing about cows.

one hundred fifty one

HILLS HILLS AND MORE HILLS

I was unable to capture by picture the steepness of the hills. Every day there were as many as a dozen climbs of five to eight hundred feet of elevation. My bike weighs at least eighty pounds, and I weigh one hundred and seventy pounds. This simple machine, driven only by human power sounds almost impossible to ride uphill. 

The gearing is the secret, if you have the right ratios, you can ride up trees. I spin along at ninety reps per minute, at four point five miles per hour trying not to fall over. It takes a long time to climb to the tops of these hills, but somehow you get there. 

As the days pass, each hill becomes less and less daunting. I think it is called conditioning. You don't enjoy them or look forward to them, they just become less impossible.

one hundred fifty

A BREAK FROM THE WIND, INLAND WASHINGTON

A welcomed rest as I traveled a sunny inland road in Washington State. These were very quiet rolling hills which was a nice change from the busy and windy coast highway. The North West was not what I had expected. 

This has been true of every place I have traveled by bicycle. Every place has been much more then I had ever imagined, perhaps I'm learning how to see.

one hundred forty nine

ANOTHER SECLUDED BEACH

Not much to say other than wow. Coast of Oregon beach.

one hundred forty eight

STEEP BOTH UP AND DOWN

The streets of San Francisco are ridiculously steep. The cars are parked sideways for a reason. This was a poorer neighborhood with sub million dollar homes, well maybe just the low millions. 

My eighty five pound bike was geared to climb almost anything but these grades were not worth the energy. I walked up several of the really steep ones and actually walked down this one. 

I started down and realized my brakes may not hold. I took care to put extra strong brakes on my bike because of the heavy load, but these hills seemed to be past to their limit. I don't know how they poured the cement on these streets. 

This picture doesn't really show the angle, but you get some idea.

one hundred forty seven

BIKER WEEKEND IN WASHINGTON

Sunday afternoon in Washington State, the motorcycles were thick. It was the Oyster Run, that’s all I know. The bikes were everywhere, both beautiful and loud.

one hundred forty six

HANGIN' WITH MY PEOPLE

I was the only bicycle in town, they were joking with me about my Surly peddle bicycle. However, they asked a lot of questions and were really interested in my trip. 

The woman looking at the camera had commented about my ass and actually patted it. They were serving a lot of alcohol that day.

one hundred forty five

WORKS OF ART

The bikes were works of art and very expensive. The bikers today must have money because these bikes aren’t cheap. These are baby boomer lawyers, psychologists, brokers, and realtors. 

It's probably a lot of fun to dress up like outlaw bikers and ride on the wild side palm pilots, cell phones and all. 

The amount of leather clothing is interesting. I do believe if anyone owning a pair of butt less chaps has have them on at least once naked. 

Now that's a disturbing mental picture.

one hundred forty four

THEY ONLY COME OUT AT NIGHT

In the light of day this tranquil campsite looks quiet. When the sun goes down the raccoons, red fox, possums, and who knows what swarm the camp for anything they can find. My trash vanished, but the little food I had was safe in my tent. Some camps had food lockers, this camp needed a few.

one hundred forty three

SAFE AND WARM ANYWHERE

Some nights you can find a quiet corner to pitch your tent, eat, sleep, and go. If I have food, water, a shelter, bedding, and warm clothes, all I need is a safe private spot of ground. The basic idea of loaded touring to be self-contained. If I am anywhere at any time I have enough to be fairly comfortable for at least a full two days. Anything more than safe and I'm in sweet tall grass.