I finally made it back to the Huntington Gardens today! I first visited a few years ago, and was mesmerized by the desert garden (the largest and arguably best I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a few), the Japanese garden, the classical Chinese garden, and the Orbit pavilion. I saw them all again today, plus more. I have way too many photos to share in one post. I’m also not sure how much I’ll be going out this coming week, with temperatures dropping, rain in the forecast, and possible side effects from the booster shot I plan to get Tuesday.
So, today I’ll share a smattering of miscellaneous scenes, and then in the coming days I’ll share more from the specific gardens.
The ride to Pasadena was very pleasant, with mid-60s temps and sunshine. I passed some nice views of trees and mountains, just going through the neighborhoods.
When I arrived at the Huntington, I went straight to the Orbit pavilion. The physical structure is cool, and the music is haunting. When I read the placard (see photo) the combination felt all the more poignant. I really like this installation.
As I walked through the desert garden, I passed several plants with signs next to them cautioning not to eat the fruits. Stymied!!
The Huntington is a large and varied complex. It’s a very impressive collection of gardens, but it also contains a library, a classical sculpture lawn, and more. If you’re ever in the LA/Pasadena area, I highly recommend it.
After the garden, I stopped by a local Target on the way home to pick up a few supplies. While I was there, I saw that the attached pharmacy was offering flu shots, so I decided to get one right then. Luckily, they accepted my Oregon insurance (I didn’t think they would) so it was free to me, and they even gave me a $5 coupon to spend on my purchases in the store, as a reward for getting the shot. That was a nice bonus.
I headed back home as the light and warmth were waning. This time, my route took me up the hill to the condo complex from the other direction. Wowee, was that a hill today! I think it was more like 300’ from this side, instead of the 200’ I climbed yesterday. Today I did need to stop at one point to rest… but I did challenge myself to do the entire climb in second gear, rather than the first gear I used yesterday. (Which I think was the right decision, especially given that I had the trailer yesterday. I might have damaged my knees if I had attempted that in second.) So, despite that one rest, I was very proud of myself for scaling the hill the way I did this evening.
Tomorrow I’ve got a couple Zoom chats scheduled, with friends and potential collaborators, so I’m looking forward to that. If I feel up to it, and if the weather cooperates, I may venture out again as well. I’ve heard great things about Descanso Gardens…
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Well, all seems right with the world again: it was a sunny day in SoCal, and between the Amtrak Pacific Surfliner and my trusty rig, I traversed the 50 miles back to the Highland Park neighborhood of Los Angeles, near Pasadena. My cousin is away for the holidays, and she very graciously offered me her place in her absence. I plan to stay at least a week here, which should be a great opportunity to decompress, get my COVID booster, get my flu shot, get a dental cleaning, catch up on communicating with some (by now feeling like long-lost!) friends, visit some beautiful places and maybe see some local friends… etc. I can feel the decompression beginning already.
I departed my friends’ house in Moorpark this morning after a hearty breakfast of a green smoothie, tofu scramble, and vegan sausage. I biked the three miles to downtown Moorpark to catch the Surfliner. The ride lasted about an hour, and I boarded and deboarded without incident. The Moorpark depot actually was just an unstaffed commuter-rail platform, without a station. Glendale, where I disembarked, had a charming small station.
I opted to take the 9.2 mile cycling option rather than the 5.4 mile one, because the former was largely on a dedicated bike path. I had the time, and the weather was lovely, and I’m so glad I chose that option. LA traffic can be nerve-wracking to navigate under human power, but this path was beautiful, with water running in the canal since the recent rain, and pretty autumn trees mingling with bright flowers on the path.
The first path did dump me out into unpleasant auto traffic for a mile or two, but then I joined another path, in the Arroyo Seco canyon cutting through a few neighborhoods.
When I climbed out of the canyon into Highland Park, I decided to stop at a supermarket to stock up on a few groceries for the week. (I would be cooking for myself, for the first time in three months!)
My cousin’s condo sits atop a 200-foot hill. On my previous two visits here on this trip—in early and then late October—she had picked me up from the train station both times. I had made it up the hill under my own power on both occasions, but only while exploring during the visits; I hadn’t had the trailer with me on those excursions. I was a bit concerned whether I would be able to scale the hill today by pedal power (vs. walking) with the trailer in tow.
So the thought of also adding the weight and bulk of groceries seemed potentially foolhardy. But I knew the alternative was to climb the hill, get everything inside the building, up the elevator, and down the hall, and then turn back around with just the bike to go down the hill for groceries, and back up. It didn’t sound very efficient, nor much fun. I decided to risk the extra weight and bulk, and get the groceries on my way in.
When I pulled up to the neighborhood market and surveyed the scene for a safe place to stash the bike (and the trailer, which I can’t secure) what should I discover but a man at a table right out front, offering free samples of vegan ice cream! Clearly, I had made the right decision.
We began chatting, and it turns out he was doing the sampling as a part-time gig, but he is a local vegan restaurant owner! His name is Ty, and his pop-up vegan restaurant is called Fun With Fries. He told me about a vegan food festival in downtown LA tomorrow; I may check it out!
When I emerged from the store, my grocery bag was even heavier and bulkier than I had feared. (Heads of broccoli and cauliflower, carrots, two cans of beans, and even a pint of the Eclipse ice cream I had just sampled—I was sold on it!)
So I was concerned about how I was going to manage this. The trailer, as always, was stuffed to the gills, so that wasn’t an option. My hydration backpack is small, so there was no room in there. I first tried using some of the straps on the pack to loop through the handles of the grocery bag. This just resulted in a heavy bag banging into the back of my thighs—not well suited to the task of mounting, and then piloting, a bicycle.
I puzzled about what I could do. Finally, I remembered that the Brompton is designed to carry a large front bag for touring. I have chosen not to use such a bag, favoring the trailer instead. This means that the front of my bike is open, and I knew it could handle some weight up there. So I managed to thread the bag handles over each handlebar. Of course they did not have the snap-on attachment that an actual Brompton bag would have, to hold it in place and prevent the weight from swaying around while pedaling. But I judged that I could handle it for the roughly two-thirds of a mile I’d be riding up that hill.
Sure enough… I took it slow, and stayed in the lowest gear, and I’m pleased to report that the whole rig made it up that hill without any walking, nor even stopping to rest.
The past few weeks I’ve been feeling concerned that my body didn’t seem to be gaining as much strength or stamina as I thought it should be. The physical challenge of my days had been feeling pretty consistent, rather than improving. But after this achievement today, I’m feeling better about it. Perhaps the 40-mile ride from Santa Barbara to Ventura, followed immediately by the 30-mile ride to Moorpark the next day, gave me the extra strength training I needed for this feat.
I arrived at the condo and got settled, enjoyed some ice cream on the balcony in the late afternoon sun, and then walked out to the small park next door to enjoy the last of the day’s rays. I took a photo from the top of the hill, admiring the view below.
I’m happy to be here.
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I’m writing this on the morning after. Last night, I just wanted to flop into bed early. It was a roller coaster of a travel day.
My energy had felt kind of strange at the beginning of the day. I had a hard time getting out of bed, then a hard time getting on the road. I’m not sure why, but I felt like I was dragging.
My Ventura Warmshowers host had assured me that the 29-mile ride to Moorpark would be “easy peasy,” and indeed, Google Maps showed that it would be “mostly flat.”
I set out in the cloudy sky, hoping the sunshine from the previous day would soon return.
I did see some beautiful light on the mountains as I left Ventura. I rolled passed lemon groves and beautiful eucalyptus trees lining the road alongside them.
At one point, I was shocked and delighted to notice that the strange green blobs I saw on a few roadside trees were avocados! I jumped off my bike to investigate, and sure enough: on one rural stretch of road, there were a couple dozen avocado trees growing on the right side. None of the fruit looked ripe, but that good-sized one in the photo did make its way into my backpack, and I’m excited to discover whether it might ripen to perfection in the next few days.
I continued biking along without much incident, until I suddenly found myself at a freeway interchange, where the only options seemed to be to take an entrance ramp to the left or the right, eastbound or westbound. Hmmm.
I consulted the Google gods again, and realized I had missed my turnoff a couple hundred yards back. Daily Drive. OK.
I retraced my steps and turned onto Daily. It looked like a frontage road against the freeway. Pavement seemed a little the worse for wear. Oh well; Google Maps would take me where I needed to go.
The pavement soon ended. The road got rutted and bumpy, and there was a big puddle I needed to navigate around. The soil was sandy and a bit damp, so it was hard to bike through. At one point the bike started tipping over. Luckily it was slow enough that I could jump off before falling.
But that was right around the place where I saw a sign saying something like “end road.”
What?
This wasn’t a dead-end road, right?
I mean… if I had to turn around, I’d just find myself back at that freeway interchange, right?
I girded myself for the possibility of riding the shoulder on the freeway for a mile or two.
Ugh.
But I decided to press on. I knew that Google maps sometimes sends you on trails that are barely passable, because they may be safer or more direct than other routing options.
I pushed on. Damp, sandy grit coated all four of my wheels. The trailer’s rain cover got coated in kicked-back dirt. Twigs got lodged in a trailer wheel.
Then I saw a creepy house ahead.
This is not what I had thought I was signing up for.
I finally glimpsed my destination road—hallelujah!—but then I saw a car pull over to the side near where I was heading. Was it someone watching me? Was it illegal to be where I was? Were they going to confront me?
Argh.
The car left. I pushed forward.
I made it to pavement!
Breathing a sigh of relief, I continued toward the small town of Camarillo. My HappyCow app showed almost no vegan-friendly restaurants there, but I figured I’d find a Chipotle or someplace for lunch.
When I reached the strip-mall area, a light mist was beginning to fall.
Seriously? This wasn’t in the forecast. Where was yesterday’s beautiful sunshine?
Oh well. It would probably be a brief shower. I ducked into a Chinese restaurant to wait it out.
After a nice meal of stir-fried vegetables, I emerged into… the sunshine?
No.
The rain was coming down steadily. The sky showed no end in sight.
Great.
OK, I’d soldier on. Hopefully it would clear up in 20-30 minutes. I had a couple hours left in the ride.
Y’all? That rain. Never. Stopped.
I realized how spoiled I had been on this trip so far, to have avoided, until now, stretches of riding more than eight miles in the rain. (I definitely still remember that 8-mile stretch from Bayside to Arcata, though. My shoes got irreparably soaked, and I threw them out and bought a new pair, labeled “waterproof,” the very next day.)
But I now had 17 more miles to go.
And I was finding here that truck drivers didn’t appreciate my sharing the road with them; I got honked at twice. This, thankfully, has also been a rare occurrence for me thus far, but that made it all the more unpleasant yesterday. (Um, guys? You’re in a nice warm cab. How about sharing the road—for a few measly seconds—with someone who is fully immersed in the elements, and who has exactly the same legal right to be on the road that you do? Hmmm? How about it?)
My glasses became impossible to see through; I wore them on the bridge of my nose, and did the best I could with street signs. I muttered, and swore, and made up angry songs to sing about the rain and the behavior of motorists. I checked the map, then checked it again, to see how much progress I was making, but the battery was quickly fading, and my wet fingers on the wet phone often interfered with the functionality of the touchscreen.
I did find one more bit of fruit magic, though!
In the past few days, I had found myself curious about date palms, since I saw them all over Santa Barbara. I wondered if any of the fruit was edible. I had always been curious about dates and how they are harvested and processed.
So on that rainy day in Goleta few days ago when I took refuge on the cozy couch, I did some research.
It turns out that the California coast is not consistently hot enough to produce the kinds of dates we commonly eat. Those are grown more inland, in the desert.
But!
Apparently between the unripe green phase of dates and the fully ripe brown phase, there is an intermediate yellow phase. And for some varieties of date trees—some of which grow in this area—the yellow dates are edible. You can pick them up off the ground. From what I read, they are often seedless, and crunchy like an apple. They don’t taste quite like dates, but they are tasty.
Well.
Through my rainy lenses and the dreary skies, I caught a glimpse of some date palms on my left. One of them held golden fruit in its branches, as well as littered all over the ground.
Jackpot!
I carefully parked my rig next to the traffic whizzing by in the rain, and scampered across the street.
I surveyed the fallen fruit, looking for the brightest yellow ones. I picked one up, and squeezed some of my water on it to wash off the rainy debris. It was tiny for a date—about the size of a large marble—but I still took just a tiny taste from the edge of it.
Hmmmm…
I took another bite.
It wasn’t crunchy. It wasn’t seedless, by a long shot—most of the small fruit seemed to be the pit.
But the small fleshy outer section did have a somewhat pleasant flavor. It was kind of like a cross between a date, a banana, and a pumpkin!
I took a few more nibbles, then tried a couple more fruit. Then I realized I was still chewing the skin of the first one; it was tough.
I spat it out.
I also tried one of the brown ones, since the YouTube videos I had watched indicated that if you harvest dates when yellow and then leave them in the sun, they can also ripen to brown.
The brown one didn’t taste particularly date-like, though, so I left it.
Curiosity and fruit-scavenging instinct sated for the moment, I returned to my soggy steed, and plodded onward.
I made it to within about forty minutes of my destination when I encountered the following scene:
No way. There was no way. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.
I had seen the map. There was no quick work-around.
Could there please, please be a hidden gate of some sort?
Please?
And…
Hallelujah!
It’s amazing what a difference a tiny perspective shift makes.
I continued, sodden and still sullen but without further incident, until I reached the house of my friends, at the end of a long residential street here in Moorpark. My feet were sloshing and squishy inside those brand-new “waterproof” shoes. (I’m thinking of seeking a refund, or at least an exchange voucher for shoes that don’t claim to be waterproof. These clearly are not, and yet they do very effectively trap in all my sweat on dry days, leaving my feet wet then as well. Ugh.)
I showered and dried off, had some dinner kindly prepared by my friends, and began to thaw out.
This morning, I’ve been re-starting the dryer every five minutes to try to get those shoes dried out. (The dryer has been shutting itself off every five minutes, for the past hour. I blame those cursed shoes.)
On the plus side:
I made it.
It’s sunny today.
I’m heading to LA tomorrow.
I’m warm and dry now, with a couple of cute dogs to keep me company while my friends are out at work.
This trip is not always going to be glamorous. Still, it’s pretty magical.
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Wow, today was one of the most beautiful rides of the trip so far. Almost all flat, mostly along the ocean. Great separated bike paths.
Yes!!
I enjoyed all the palm trees as I rolled out of Santa Barbara this morning. Pretty soon they gave way to various bikeways. I stopped in the cute town of Carpinteria to grab lunch at the local natural food store, Pacific Health Foods. I was delighted to discover some packaged deli items there from Evolution Fast Food, in San Diego! That is one of my favorite vegan restaurants in San Diego, and I hadn’t realized they sold their food elsewhere. I guess I’ve officially arrived in SoCal!
I continued south from Carpinteria, marveling at the miles of sea views from the separated bikeway.
I arrived at my wonderful Warmshowers host’s house after dark, and we shared a nice meal and chatted about travel, while her adorable dog looked on.
I biked 40 miles today, which is surprisingly on the longer end of what I’ve been used to. (I had initially planned on 30-50 miles roughly every other day on this trip, but it’s often been less, for various reasons.) I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep, and then 29 more (flat, yay!) miles inland to Moorpark, where I’ll be staying with friends.
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Well, it rained most of the day in Goleta. I stayed inside, comfy and cozy on the couch. Did some “administrative” tasks, like making a dentist appointment for when I get to LA, and setting up a few meetings.
Then, just as the day was about to run short of light, the rain finally stopped (but not before a beautiful rainbow!) and one of my hosts and I set out toward Santa Barbara. He joined me for the first few miles, suggesting the most scenic route and pointing out a few sights along the way, and then headed back home while I continued. As you can see, the mountains were beautiful in the late post-rain light.
I made it back to my other host’s place in Santa Barbara in time for a warm home-cooked dinner and a few episodes of Ted Lasso.
Tomorrow, Ventura!
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I am so grateful right now to be ensconced in this cozy house with my wonderful new hosts, who are friends of a longtime acquaintance and neighbor of mine in Portland. I can hear the rain drumming on the window. It’s forecast to continue raining steadily all night, and most of tomorrow.
This is good for southern California, of course. Really, most of the state has been parched for much of the year. Everyone here is happy for the arrival of this rain.
My feelings, as you might imagine, are mixed. I’m glad for the land. It’s good to have rain. At the same time, a big motivation for me to take this trip in the first place was to escape the cold and rain in Portland. (And to be fair, it’s 56 degrees here in Goleta at 11:30 pm, vs. 38 in Portland with mixed rain and snow falling.)
But, once again, I have been very fortunate today in terms of mostly avoiding the challenging weather while actually bicycling. Both last night’s host and tonight’s hosts (only about 12 miles apart) were very flexible as to when I could depart and arrive. So, I had a very leisurely morning and early afternoon inside, checking the weather app and waiting for the “right” time to leave.
I timed it quite well, in the late afternoon. For most of the ride, there was no rain. At times, I did get sprinkled on. And at times—especially near the beach—the wind was a bit worrying, as I saw some pieces of palm tree bark fall onto the path from high perches. I hoped none would land on me, and fortunately they didn’t.
But I was happy that the temperature wasn’t too cold, and grateful for all my synthetic clothing that keeps me warm when wet, and also dries quickly once the rain lets up.
The scenery from Santa Barbara to Goleta was pleasant, and I made a point to stop in Isla Vista so that I could visit the local co-op, founded the same year I was born. Outside while I ate my snacks, I encountered a local woman with panniers on her bike, loading up her groceries. She was interested in my trip, and enjoyed seeing me fold and unfold the Brompton.
Much of my route was on a car-free bike path. It led me partway along the shore, and also through the UC Santa Barbara campus, where I saw a multitude of bike racks (though not many bikes—I’m guessing the school is on winter break, since I also saw almost no people) as well as a tall carillon.
Dusk was just falling as I arrived at the house of my hosts for tonight, and the “real” rain started almost immediately afterward.
Yes. Good timing.
Tomorrow I’ll head back for one more night with my previous host, to make the next day’s haul to Ventura more manageable. Once again, I’m grateful for the scheduling flexibility of all parties involved, since this will help me do my best to dodge tomorrow’s raindrops.
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The rain and lower temperatures are supposed to set in for the next couple of days, so I did my best to pack in all my sightseeing today.
First I went to the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden, just north of town. The ride there was beautiful, and I passed through a wonderful, tree-filled park on the way. There I met a woman at a picnic table named Angie, who is a van-lifer, and who had just arrived in Santa Barbara herself within the past few days. We had a cool conversation for a bit, marveling at this place and at the joys of the traveling lifestyle.
Then I climbed uphill to the garden. I was interested to learn that this particular botanical garden was the first in the United States to focus on native plants and trees, rather than showcasing collections from around the world, as many do. At first I was a bit disappointed to learn this, thinking this would mean there would not be much variety in the garden. But I appreciated the principle, and I ended up really enjoying the space, including another lovely redwood grove for me to sink into and savor.
On my way out, I met a family visiting from out of town—from New Jersey and the Bay Area—and shared a bit of my journey with them, showing them my bike and such. (If you’re reading this, family, it was great to meet you!)
Then I headed back toward the house, but not before stopping by the mission, which is one of the main tourist attractions in Santa Barbara. The architecture was pretty, and a man riding a cargo bike there with his two young kids complimented me on my Brompton, saying it was “on my Christmas list for myself.” Turns out that he and his family had just moved back to the area after eight years in Portland. What a small world. We talked Portland, Santa Barbara, and bike travel, and then continued on our separate ways.
When I arrived back to the house, two of my host’s adult children and their partners were there, cooking delicious food for lunch, and later dinner. We all enjoyed some vegan tacos together, and then I hopped back on the bike to make the most of the last hour of daylight: I wanted to see the downtown area in the daytime, and also visit the beach.
I was impressed by the bicycle and pedestrian infrastructure, including car-free plazas with outdoor dining. The business district was bustling.
When I reached the beach, I marveled at the beauty of the palm trees and the sun beginning to set. I saw a man bicycling his pug around; that was pretty adorable.
I pedaled a mile or two along the shore to meet up with the family again at Hendry’s Beach, where the sunset was really getting spectacular. (Main photo.)
I bicycled back home while the rest of them carpooled, so by the time I got back, the tofu curry and naan were almost ready. The food was amazing, and elegantly presented as well. (No photos; I was fully present at that time!)
After dinner we played a card game, and a few people played beautiful music on the piano.
What a lovely day.
Tomorrow I’ll head “backward” a bit, to the suburb of Goleta, to spend another night or two in the area. Not sure how much I’ll get out and about there, given the weather, but my new hosts sound really cool, so I’m looking forward to some good conversation.
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Today was another lovely low-key day in San Luis Obispo. My host and I went out for morning coffee and pastries at Linnaea’s, a nearby vegetarian coffee shop with a lovely back patio. She told me that this coffee shop had been in operation for many decades; cool!
After that, I lounged around for a few hours, and then it was time to board the train to Santa Barbara. I had initially planned to bike to Santa Maria, then Solvang, then Santa Barbara. But, between a lack of lodging in Santa Maria, more distance and elevation than I liked from Solvang to Santa Barbara, and rainy and chilly weather forecasts in the next few days, I decided that my best bet would be to take the Coast Starlight to Santa Barbara. A bonus? I got to see the gorgeous coastal sunset views.
I packed up and pedaled the six blocks to the SLO train station just before 3:00. Once I got there, I learned that seat assignments would be given trainside, so I didn’t need to do anything before boarding. I kind of expected to be approached by at least one Amtrak employee, expressing skepticism at best or obstinacy at worst, about there not being space for my rig onboard, since that generally has happened on the six or seven Amtrak trips I’ve taken on this trip so far. But no one approached me.
However, as I approached the coach class cars to board, I encountered the familiar resistance. An attendant told me firmly that I would not be able to take the trailer on board, because they had such a full train today, and there was no space for such large carryon luggage. I remained calm and optimistic, and suggested that if the storage shelves were full in that car, perhaps I could try the other coach car. (I had done this on a previous train.)
“No, they’re both totally full!”
I hesitated a moment, but continued to trust that where there is a will there is a way, and that I would indeed be boarding soon with all my accoutrements. The attendant’s cohort seemed more willing to work with me: he told me to “hold tight” while he checked with the baggage car attendant. (The original attendant replied with, “It’s already closed!”) The second guy started walking down to the baggage car to see what he could do to help me. Meanwhile, perhaps because he saw that both his coworker and I seemed undeterred, the original attendant seemed to reconsider.
“Go down to that next car. See if there’s room there.”
I did.
There was.
(As I had already suggested.)
There was no one to help me load the trailer this time, though, and I was concerned whether I could handle its heft and bulk. Fortunately, this particular car had only one step, not the multiple narrow stairs some train cars have. I gave the trailer a good tug from inside the train, and managed to wrangle it into place. Then I hoisted the folded bike onto the next shelf.
I walked with some satisfaction back to that attendant outside. He handed me my seat assignment, and told me to board the car next to us. I did, and as I passed the shelves to climb the stairs, I noted that while snug, it would not have been impossible for me to have found space for the rig on that car either. I think the attendant just lacked spatial imagination.
Boarding thus fulfilled, I relaxed into the two-and-a-half-hour ride.
I visited the café car, where I found that their longstanding prepackaged vegan burger has apparently been replaced by a vegan tamale. I ordered it. I think it’s a bit better than the burger.
I savored the views of the golden hills, and then the ocean sunsets, before darkness fell.
I disembarked without incident in Santa Barbara; the attendant even seemed cheerful and chipper as he bade me farewell. I suppose once the stress of figuring out the baggage passes, most of them do relax by the time I leave the train.
I biked about half an hour to my new host’s place, a charming duplex in the northwest section of town. We shared a lovely homemade meal of broccoli and tofu, and sank immediately into some really cool conversation. He is a friend of a friend of mine. I’m continually grateful to my network of friends for introducing me to their other wonderful friends along my path.
Tomorrow the weather should be sunny and pleasant, so I hope to get out and explore a beach and/or botanical garden, before the rain and chilly temps set in for the following several days.
—
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Today was a relatively quiet day, but as I mentioned yesterday, this place is so charming! The sun was out for most of the day. My host and I visited the local co-op, and then I wandered the downtown streets a bit with my bike. I visited a fancy Turkish coffee/baklava/Turkish delight shop. Several of their offerings were vegan, and it felt rather exciting to taste a few of the colorful wares.
Then I biked out of town just a bit, to Laguna Lake Park. I sat and basked in the sunshine for a while, enjoying the peaceful ambience.
Then I returned home, and had a cozy evening in with my host, eating delicious fresh vegetables (plus that ice cream from last night!) and bingeing Friday Night Lights on Netflix.
Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll hop on the train (the Amtrak station is just a few blocks away!) to Santa Barbara. I’m looking forward to seeing that beautiful town again, but in the meantime, tomorrow morning and early afternoon I plan to savor SLO a bit more. As you can see, the bicycle infrastructure here is quite pleasant.
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Do you have your own dream or project, and would like some support or collaborative brainstorming about it? Use the green “contact” button above to schedule a one-hour phone or video call with me!
Want to be notified of future blog posts? Use the green “sign up” button to subscribe!
Want to support my vision financially? I am in the process of manifesting $50,000 in lieu of a “salary” for the year of this journey. You can make a one-time or monthly contribution, or even become a Fairy Godfunder! (Heartfelt thanks to all my patrons and supporters!)
This morning I bade farewell to my wonderful Pacific Grove Warmshowers host, just outside of Monterey. Shortly thereafter, a friend of a friend pulled up in his hybrid car to drive me down the coast to San Luis Obispo. (Unfortunately, since I’m not camping, the distance along Hwy 1 was too great for me to cycle it. But I really didn’t want to miss out on seeing Big Sur, so I was grateful to my friend—and Portland neighbor—for putting me in touch with her friend who lives in Carmel. And—small world alert!—this guy is also friends with two other people I know, all three from different realms of my life. So much magic on this journey, and in the world in general.)
So we loaded up my rig into his rig, and set off southbound. It didn’t take long before the scenery got breathtaking. I had been a passenger in a car once before along this stretch of Hwy 1, way back in my PIRG days in 1997, when we all drove from Portland to Santa Barbara for a training. I recalled how stunning the scenery had been on that trip, but to see it again today, decades later, was amazing all over again.
I’ll mostly let the photos speak for themselves.
We got out for a short hike early in the drive (which totaled nearly 150 miles) climbing up a short but steep peak. We continued to pull over at various lookouts later along the way, including a beach with elephant seals! They were mesmerizing to watch.
When we pulled into San Luis Obispo (known locally as SLO, pronounced like “slow”) we stopped for burgers at an all vegan fast-food place called Ziggy’s in the north part of town. Then Jeff dropped me off in the charming downtown, where I enjoyed a soy mocha at a table on the bustling sidewalk, then later spent some time in a neighborhood park, before pedaling over to meet my host for the next two nights, a friend of another friend. (I am so thankful for my wonderful friends network!)
We chatted for a while, and then headed out on foot to SLO’s weekly Thursday nighttime farmers market. I had never seen such a thing! It was just like a regular farmers market, with downtown streets blocked off from auto traffic to hold space for the vendors—but it took place in the dark! It was dreamed up by visionary local planners some 35 years ago, to boost business for downtown merchants and bring the community out to mingle. From what I saw, it was a resounding success on both counts.
We found some vegan ice cream on offer at a market stall, and my host picked up some fresh vegetables. We came home and savored some of each.
I’m looking forward to exploring this cool town more in the daylight tomorrow!
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Do you have your own dream or project, and would like some support or collaborative brainstorming about it? Use the green “contact” button above to schedule a one-hour phone or video call with me!
Want to be notified of future blog posts? Use the green “sign up” button to subscribe!
Want to support my vision financially? I am in the process of manifesting $50,000 in lieu of a “salary” for the year of this journey. You can make a one-time or monthly contribution, or even become a Fairy Godfunder! (Heartfelt thanks to all my patrons and supporters!)
