Thanksgiving 2015 involved 4 transit agencies, ~250 miles pedaled, 12 members of my extended family, and the singular Fuchsia Wonder.
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| FW, all ready and rarin' to go Monday night |
The 2 am departure Tuesday morning got me to the 3:49 express bus from Santa Rosa to San Francisco. Golden Gate Transit now uses a bike 'rack' in the undercarriage of the bus on some of their buses. Despite the fact that it was 10 minutes before departure time with few passengers around, the driver told me I should watch the on-line video if I needed any help in using it. Funny thing was, about 2 hours later, I was boarding Caltrain, the south bay commuter rail, and when it wasn't obvious to me where to swipe the fare card so I would be charged for the ride, the employee told me,"you should read the website to familiarize yourself with the system." Again, it was 10 minutes before departure, with few passengers around. Why have a verbal interaction with the person in front of you when you can read about it on-line? I'm so old-fashioned.
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| Here's FW on Caltrain, traveling in VIP style |
By 7:15am I was pedaling south from the Tamien train station in San Jose. Here was my route to San Luis Obispo:
I had a time limitations, so I opted for a flat simple option for getting out of San Jose. So the first 50 miles were dreary and with a headwind to boot. But when I saw this sign I knew things were going to get interesting:
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| "Next Services 76 Miles" |
In fact it was over 100 miles before I next passed a retail establishment. It was a challenging ride, at one point the headwind was so strong I was working hard to go downhill at 9 mph. It rained most of the afternoon, then when night came temperatures were in the low 40s and I was soggy. But it was that sort of vast country that leaves you a little different than you started out -- quiets the mind. It was the sort of place where I felt awe and appreciation just for the excellentness of getting to be there pretty much the whole time. It's desolate droughty ranching land, sparse grey pine and shrubs on the hills, livestock still grazing the valley floor. Hwy 25 passes by Pinnacles National Park. After that it was Peach Tree and Indian Valley Roads. It might have been because I was feeling the miles, but seemed like those rollers were pretty steep. It was dark by then and I went for miles with no artificial lights. The full moon illuminated the valley floor when it wasn't behind clouds. After a brief stop in Paso Robles for food, I headed along another hilly, lovely, quiet river valley most of the rest of the way to San Luis Obispo. I rolled into the motel around midnight, and thought that hot shower was about the greatest thing I'd ever experienced.
Early morning treats and hot beverage at Blackhorse Cafe hit the spot, then the Fuchsia Wonder and I rolled on the Amtrak to San Diego.
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| Sunrise from the train |
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| More outgoing than its owner, FW is seen here cavorting with other train passengers |
This train has 6 spots for bikes, and you reserve one beforehand, at no additional cost. Very civilized.
My aunt and uncle rented a house in Mission Beach for the week, and we had a very relaxing time. I for one consumed enough calories to fuel an Olympic curling team.
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| A few members of team Adams |
This is at the tidepools at Cabrillo National Monument, a few minutes before the complete rainbow, a few minutes after the resource limitation of fewer parking spots than circling vehicles brought out the ugly side of the assembled representatives of humanity, and several hours after (though still feeling the affects) of some strong adult breakfast beverages at Cafe 21. I also got in a visit with family from my mom's side, and met my cousin's newborn twins for the first time.
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| San Diego River bike path |
Lots of great paths and they get used by a cross-section of cyclists. I was impressed by the functionality of junctions between paths and shared infrastructure (e.g. roads and bridges).
I was starting to worry my plan to ride all night right as temps dropped into the 20s might be not my cleverest idea ever. I gave Amtrak a call, and for $5 I got a ticket for a bus that would take me and unboxed FW from SLO to San Francisco. Huh, I guess I can afford that.
If you've been keeping track, you've noticed I promised 4 transit agencies, but have only mentioned 3. The story of the 4th is an example of the sort of gratuitous drama that I seem to find a way to add in. I left plenty of time to get to train station for my return journey, and made my way to the Old Town station, where I got off a few days before, a little more convenient than the main San Diego station. Fifteen minutes before departure I figured out the train in fact would not stop at Old Town, and I needed to make my way to the main station. On the next platform over was the light rail, and after running down then up the underpass stairs carrying the bike I stared dumbly at the fare kiosk for a little while. As to whether I figured out how and what ticket to buy in my frazzled state before rolling on to the trolley, I take the 5th. As luck would have it, it was going the right way and no one asked for a ticket. A few stops later, the Amtrak train in sight, I got off and started running on the coarse railroad gravel towards my train, carrying the bike. The trolley driver was not happy with this choice and expressed as much with the horn. I could see the heads of the staff pulling in to each car on the Amtrak train in preparation for the doors to close, and hopped onto the platform in time to shout into the first car door as it was closing. To her credit the staff person for the car did not tell me to watch an on-line video on departure etiquette. Rather she opened the door, told me how many cars down the bike car was, and radioed for the door to open for me. Whew!
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| Random act of Kindness |
Hours later, when I went to the bike parking area to check on FW, someone had placed a 'Kind' brand granola bar on it. Note to self, anonymous small acts of sweetness are way cool on the receiving end, try to remember that and do one once in a while.
The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful. I learned that as excellent as my new porteur rack is, it's not very compatible with the typical front-of-bus bike rack. Due to a very patient and kind bus driver, FW and I made it back to Sonoma County, but I won't try to take that bike on that type of bus rack again. On the way down the hill I live on, when I first started the journey, a fox darted across the road in front of me, which I took as a good omen. And in the last mile as I was nearly back on Sunday, I saw a coyote loping along in the distance. Which I took as a warm welcome home.
