Day 29-31: And we are still biking

Day 29: Getting too comfortable is dangerous.  We never realized how much we missed a restroom with running water or a toilet without spiders crawling everywhere and as always it's hard to leave a warm bed.  We had two options; pay for another night at the B&B or head out in the cold, misty morning.  So we mustered all our gumption and hit the road, rubber side down.  Three minutes into our ride we were gifted with what we later found out to be the steepest or highest percentage grade along the Pacific Route.  It was by far the most insane hill this side of the Mississippi.  No pictures could do it justice.  Just imagine climbing Mt. Everest on bikes times 10! We'll maybe not that hard.  I felt like I was going to pass out once I conquered it and gravity won this round with Matt as he had to push his bike, Jet and the dog trailer the last little bit.  We collected ourselves and pedaled on.  We were so full of food and good rest that we biked 58 miles without a break and in less than 4 hours. We made it to camp before 2pm and contemplated cycling more.  Jet cast his vote and we ended up setting up camp.  That evening we met two girls who had cycled from the East Coast to the West Coast and decided they wanted to cycle down the coast to San Francisco.  They had been on their bikes for over 6 months. We hit the sack and decided we would be cycling a minimum of 65 miles a day from here on out.

Taking a breather after our "welcome back to the road" hill.

Day 30-31: We left our campsite by 8am, surprisingly still the last people out of camp.  For some reason everyone seems to wake up at 6am and be out of camp by 7am. Getting up early may be for the birds but not these two.  It turned out to be a pretty tough day for us with super windy roads, little to no shoulder, constant ups and downs. All in a days work I guess. The ocean is a mighty beautiful yet terrifying thing at a thousand feet above sea level. Looking over the edge of a cliff as you cycle can be a wee bit nauseating. We've since learned to admire its beauty looking ahead and not down.  It was a full house when we arrived to Samuel P. Taylor State Park.  We ran into a familiar face that recognized our pink bikes as we dragged into camp.  Just south of Bellingham we ran into a cyclist that was training for a tour himself. We chatted in a parking lot for nearly 30 minutes and he said he would be keeping an eye out for us.  He found us and then left us in his dust the next morning when per usual we were the last cyclist out of camp.  We have began to get a little road weary and since deciding to stick to a strict 65+ mile a day regiment we would not be spending the planned visit to San Francisco and aside a few photo stops we would be blowin' through town and staying the night in Half Moon Bay State Park. 

The ride into San Fran was great albeit hilly, but we were expecting that.  Maybe it just smelled delicious to our empty bellies but something about Fairfax just seemed right. We cycled into Sausalito and were shocked to see hundreds of cyclist.  Cyclist may be too generous of a name for them but non the less tourist were renting bikes on the south side of the Golden Gate Bridge and then riding down to Sausalito.  Thats right it was all down hill if you were riding south to north but eventually they would have to turn around and cycle back up hill.  Not little Texas hills but continuous false summits that got steeper with each turn.  We had a good laugh as we were sure some of the women in dress shoes didn't know what they signed themselves up for.  The Golden Gate Bridge was chaotic but still fun to ride across with it's gorgeous views of the bay, the city and Alcatraz.  Per usual, we ended up lost and taking our own route through Golden Gate Park where they have a stash of bison just hanging out in the park.  We snapped some photos for proof, Jet barked and off we went. Obviously the further south we have come the hotter the days are and today seemed to be the hottest of them all.  Exhausted from the sun beating down on us, we set-up camp and passed out. 

We're headed the right way.

Matt doesn't like standing on bridges...

but has no problem cycling on them.

American bison in San Fran