The Awkward Pose

October 14, 2015 – Sun, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 37

Miles to Date: 8,473

States to Date: 25

East Bay day! I rode from Pleasant Hill through the leafy suburbs of Lafayette and Orinda, over the pass of Wildcat canyon, and down through UC Berkeley. I enjoyed the classic streets of craftsmen bungalows in route to the much revived city of Oakland.

I spent the day among ‘Townies’: visiting FEMA’s western headquarters; The Crucible, a crafts incubator that’s been instrumental in promoting the maker-movement; and Temple Tattoos.

It was after four by the time I finished talking to folks about tomorrow, so I took the BART back to Ed and Daphne’s house in Pleasant Hills where we enjoyed shish-ke-bob with their son Daniel and several of their friends. They have an incredible view of Mount Diablo from the top of their street.

October 13, 2015 – Sun, 90 degrees

Miles Today: 10

Miles to Date: 8,436

States to Date: 25

Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City began as newspaper stories about San Francisco, a place rich in variety and vignette. In just a few short hours today I chronicled a few of my own tales from this fascinating place.

I cycled down Haight Street, which may be faded but still has its place in counter-cultural lore.

I navigated The Wiggle, a bike route of lefts and rights that maintains a relatively flat grade in this city of monstrous hills.

I appreciated beautiful painted ladies …

and visited a few other ladies as well – at Good Vibrations, a female-positive local chain of sex shops.

I learned that politics is a social activity in this city, and that gardens don’t need soil.

I lunched at Salumeria in the emerging Mission District with Shannon Weber, an inspiring mother / social worker / artist whose loveyou2.org brings love and affirmation to people everywhere. She introduced me to kombucha, a locally fermented drink, though our barista told us that beet juice is the new rage.

I couldn’t resist stopping at Volute, a tech start-ups at Otherlab where they work with their garage door open. Amy was happy to tell me all about their innovative CNG tank prototype configurations.

By mid afternoon I was overwhelmed by the energy of the city – and it was ninety degrees outside. Intellectually, I know that weather is not climate, but it has been unseasonably warm wherever I’ve been for three months now. This man cannot pedal his way out of global warming. So, since I had to take BART to get to the East Bay anyway, I opted to train all the way to Pleasant Hill, a distant suburb where I had a long overdue reunion with my good college friend Ed and his wife Daphne. Boston has its charms, but I would happily give up a few of them for a subway as clean and efficient as I enjoyed today.

October 12, 2015 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 44

Miles to Date: 8,426

States to Date: 25

I’ve only been to San Francisco once, 37 years ago, before the city was so affluent and before I was gay. The alliterative repetition of the adjective ‘so’ cannot be used here because no one would say that I am ‘so gay’. Some say I am ‘barely gay’. I figure I’m gay enough for me. Perhaps a week in San Francisco will nudge that meter. We’ll see.

My cycling today was more of a saunter – I took my sweet time getting to the city and settling into my time here. Although I left before seven when my host went off to work, I stopped en route to visit downtown San Raphael and Frank Lloyd Wright’s Marin Country Civic Center. The bike path goes through a cool former railroad tunnel. Then I lost my way in construction and detoured through Larkspur, a bucolic morsel of wealth. I climbed Alte Camino to reach the bike path through Mill Valley and savored Sausalito. All those great house boats and houses on the hills.

I was super excited to ride my bike over the Golden Gate Bridge, and apprehensive of the heights. Each expectation proved feeble. The bicycle and pedestrian traffic is huge; practically a parade. Ingoing bikes are to the far right of the trail, so I didn’t feel any height. Still, it’s an awesome bridge.

Once in the city, I loitered in The Presidio. I love the Palace of Fine Arts, the sole structure from the 1915 Pan-Pacific International Exhibit. It seems incredible that the event happened a century ago, and even more remarkable that the city orchestrated it less than a decade after the 1906 earthquake. Do we have any of the cultural chutzpah to pull anything like that off again, or is that sort of show relegated to totalitarian regimes? Regardless, all those columns and statues with no significance whatsoever enchanted me.

I stayed close the water, traversing Fisherman’s Wharf and the Embarcadero to visit the Autodesk gallery at One Market Street. As an architect I used Revit, Autodesk’s signature software. The gallery highlights a wide range of remarkable digital mapping applications, from customized prosthetics to a Biome car made from organic material that exhausts oxygen, to simple infant warmer for developing countries that have neonatal intensive care capabilities. Very cool stuff for a high-tech tomorrow.

Two interesting side bars. Everyone exercises here, and it is intense. Crossfit everyhwere, women boxing, pumped guys preparing for fitness competitions.

Also, amazing how they build into these hills. So much excavation and concrete.

Finally, I made my way up Market, through the Castro, and over to Golden Gate Park before heading to my host’s home for the evening. Tomorrow I begin interviews in earnest.

October 11, 2015 – Fog and Sun, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 51

Miles to Date: 8,382

States to Date: 25

Today was a time of sun and fog and sun and fog and sun again. When I left Bodega Bay the indications for sun were high, as was the surf. But within a few minutes I was enveloped in fog along California Highway 1 for ten miles. Visibility was adequate, and the cool sea breeze wonderful for cycling.

By the time I got to Tomales the sky cleared, the sun was bright, and the town was hopping with weekend tourists. I took several hours break and had a great visit with Abby, aka TrekkinLady, a young woman who has hiked the Pacific Coast Trail and Baja and is wrapping up a hike across Montana to Seattle followed by a cycling down the coast to San Diego.

Fog set back in once I was on the bike, and stayed with me to Marshall, where I turned inland. The road away from the coast was steep, but the wind was at my back and the fog dissipated as I climbed. This was my third day of traversing coastal mountains, and the most beautiful by far. I especially liked the long, slow descent into Novato. I find the bald brown hills with clumps of green against a crisp blue sky very satisfying. I actually feel nourished and full as I pass them rising around me.

A friend of a friend was a gracious host and had a completely unique response to my question. I still get new responses every day. They help keep me fresh.

October 10, 2015 – Sunny, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 33

Miles to Date: 8,331

States to Date: 25

Every so often I have a yen to see the ocean, and I am always glad to make the trip. Santa Rosa was foggy this morning, and my warmshowers family was great fun, so I lingered awhile and indulged in my hosts’ morning habits – a wheat grass pill and green smoothie laced with ginger followed by a cabbage/sauerkraut/avocado/flax oil salad. The children gobbled it up, and I found it pretty tasty myself. Aaron rode me out of town and got me on the bike path to Sebastopol.

Sebastopol is a hippie place gone upscale. How else can you describe a town whose main supermarket is Whole Foods? I stopped by the Luther Burbank experimental farm on the outskirts of town, and stopped by a wood lathe artist’s shop participating in Sonoma County Open Arts Festival. Continuing west, the scent of the sea grew strong, as did the wind.

I stopped by Wild Flour Bakery in Freestone, after at least four people recommended it. The place was packed at 3 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon, and for good reason. The cinnamon bun was a meal, and I got a loaf of fragrant bread to bring my evening’s host, who was the first person to tip me off to this wood fired gem.

Fueled by raw vegan energy and a giant baked sweet (a dietary conflict of the highest order) I began my serious climb to the coast along Bohemian Highway to Occidental. Coleman Valley Road is ten miles of cycling bliss with steep climbs, dark forests, and hairpin switchbacks that eventually lead to a broad heath of tall grass bent to the strong north wind. Jane Eyre would be at home here. I smelled the ocean for miles before I actually saw it. The road rose to false peak after false peak until, finally, the Pacific glistened before me. I descended to Highway One and had an hour to enjoy the surf crashing into Arch Rock. My host gave me a wonderful dinner and good conversation in exchange for one stipulation – no interviewing. I took a Saturday night vacation from conversing with a pad and pen in my hand.

October 9, 2015 – Sunny, 90 degrees

Miles Today: 35

Miles to Date: 8,298

States to Date: 25

Ah, California living. I loitered at my warmshowers host’s home until eleven. Lindy made such a wonderful breakfast, showed me terrific photos of other guests, and her dogs are so endearing. Eventually I did head out and took the scenic, though challenging, ride up Dry Creek Road and down (as in 12% grade down) Trilogy Road to the Sonoma Valley.

I am a useless person in wine country. I considered stopping at a vineyard, but just the idea of sipping wine on a hot sunny afternoon triggered a headache, so I enjoyed the scenery and cycled into Santa Rosa, which has some lovely historic homes.

My Santa Rosa hosts were quite unusual – a raw vegan family with five young children. I received a lovely gift basket of drawings from six-year-old Luna Bella and enjoyed reading to the others. After the children were in bed, Mariah, Aaron and I stayed up late discussing diet, life, and tomorrow.

October 8, 2015 – Sunny, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 71

Miles to Date: 8,263

States to Date: 25

Today was not fun. I was warned that Route 12 was terrible for cyclists. But even the naysayers didn’t offer alternatives. So, I struck out early and persevered.

The San Joaquin and Sacramento Rivers collect all the other rivers in the Central Valley and come together to form the California Delta, a low-lying marsh. It’s a beautiful stretch.

Unfortunately, traffic is heavy and the shoulders sketchy. Nice and wide for several miles, then they disintegrate to nothing. Over one four-mile stretch I actually walked my bike along the bumpy and soft edge; there was no way to ride on the paved surface. Route 12 must be notorious for traffic deaths as it’s lined with signs about driving safe. Past Rio Vista there are yellow stanchions to ensure that no one passes. That also means no one can shift over to give me space. So, I wound up riding a stretch, then pulling over to let a line of traffic pass, then riding some more. Once again, the courteous and patient truck drivers impressed me. The guys in pick-up trucks – not so much.

Finally, the road widened and I pedaled the Solano County hills. I reached Fairfield, a hot and tawny town, by noon. After a long lunch break and many missed turns, I found the bike path that parallels I-80 east from town. I spent miles along wide boulevards in the exploding exurbs of San Francisco in an appalling new development with streets named ‘Business Center Drive’ and ‘Healthcare Court’. The entire area is so spread out and separately zoned it can only be accessed by car. Do we ever learn anything?

When I reached the I-680/I-80 interchange, under construction, all signs of the bike path disintegrated. I spent half an hour seeking a safe way back onto Route 12. Finally, I just sucked it up and went on I-80 for one exit before climbing out the valley.

At the top of the rise, the road spread out, the temperature dropped fifteen degrees, and the views were spectacular. Welcome to Napa! Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I could feel bad for the people trapped in their bumper-to-bumper traffic.

I rolled into Napa and spent a lovely evening with a warmshowers host and a few of her friends. A shower, a beer, homemade bread with cheese and grilled pork tacos can make a guy forget a harrowing day.

October 7, 2015 – Sunny, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 59

Miles to Date: 8,192

States to Date: 25

It’s time to tempt fate and talk about dogs, one of a touring cyclist’s greatest fears. I have been warned time and again that the two worst places for dogs are Appalachia and the Central Valley. I have real fear of the stories I’ve heard in West Virginia and Kentucky. But I must say that, so far, dogs in the Central Valley do not live up to their reputation.

Yes, there are many. Yes, they do chase cyclists. I’ve had more dogs chase me in the past four days than during my previous 150 days of cycling. But, hey most of them are tiny and the all have their tails wagging high. These are friendly dogs. I am sure a German Shepard could decide to have my calf for lunch tomorrow, but so far, Central Valley dogs are laid-back, California creatures.

Daily variations in a place as huge as the Central Valley are subtle. Today I spent 25 miles on Jack Tone Road, a smooth strip of pavement will all sorts of harvesting taking place, all by machine.

One machine shakes the walnut trees. Another sweeps them off the ground. A third conveyor belts the harvest into hoppers. The hoppers are transported to hulling facilities where a series of belts separate debris from hulls from shells. I think the first time a human actually touches a walnut is when we consumers take one out of a bag.

I also saw machines harvesting plum tomatoes and corn. The scale of operations is immense. It also leaves waste.  So many pumpkins that didn’t meet the grade.

By the time I reached Lodi the focus shifted to wine, so tourism comes into play. Lodi is a truly quaint place with a lovely downtown, as well as a cool bike rack outside the library.

October 6, 2015 – Sunny, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 38

Miles to Date: 8,133

States to Date: 25

I spent the morning in Merced, a traditional ag town that is being transformed by the newest addition of the University of California system – CA Merced. Merced has a gorgeous courthouse, shady downtown, and I had two separate interviews at Healthy House, a non-profit that bridges Eastern and Western cultures and medicines through work with the Hmong and other immigrant communities.

Cycling makes small changes apparent. It was after two before I began pedaling to Ceres. I noticed the earth is a bit greener, the terrain a tiny bit more varied than yesterday. The canals actually have water. Hmong farmers plant a variety of crops – something rare in this monoculture world.

  
Can you guess what this dozer is piling up? Answer in a few days…

October 5, 2015 – Sunny, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 51

Miles to Date: 8,095

States to Date: 25

Today I was drenched in drought. I zig-zagged through the grid of agricultural roads laid out over the Central Valley. The land is flat, the earth is dust, the orchards grow where there is irrigation. Fields of crops that have low water allocations are ripped up to be replaced by less water intensive crops, or ones that receive a higher state allocation. Apparently, walnuts are out, almonds are in, but that seems to vary according to whom I meet.

The area is littered with signs about water; either lambasting politicians or beseeching god. No signs acknowledge any personal contributions to the problem, despite the sprinklered lawns in the foreground of the ranch houses.

The people who live here feel besieged. They provide crops for the entire country and in return we are strangling their water and ruining their way of life. As an observer from beyond, this way of life seems so unnatural, propping it up with more water will only delay the inevitable. We have created a society and economy that will be difficult to shift, but even more difficult to maintain in the future.