Day 14: San Francisco -- New York City

368 miles, extreme elevation, lots of wine, and 1/2 a bottle of Advil later, we are done. I'm considering what we hoped to get out of the trip, and what we actually did. 

We woke up early at Amy's to pack the bikes before our flight. It was a quick end. Jay was more excited to see his bike go than I was. Next time, he wants to do an organized trip because it will be easier. Being a 10 year veteran of the Bicycle Ride Across Georgia, I agree yes, it will be easier. An organized ride will remove the fear, anxiety, insecurity, vulnerability, risk. You won't have to think on your toes, improvise, study maps, plan, or deal with logistical problems (well, far fewer, except the infamous problem of how to get there).

But perhaps these things are good once in a while. Perhaps it's good to feel humbled, frightened in the face of nature, small, challenged.

At the end of our trip, I'm thinking about bodies and space. On a bike, you can go faster and further with your body than any way else. It's faster than running, and like the girl in Gualala said, you can actually go somewhere on a map. It's empowering to know you can do that. You can go anywhere you want to go, across the country, up a mountain, into new territory, and you don't need anything else. Nothing -- not gas, money, or society -- can holding you back.

Yet, we take for granted that space is controlled, and when you move through it in a way unexpected, it's disorienting for you, and for those watching you. Many people cheered us on or warned us about what we were doing. The roads were for cars, they were steep, on cliffs, foggy, long. But you see a place differently on a bike. You breathe the air, smell the trees, hear the sounds, notice the people and environment. You connect with the places you go and the people you meet, and it's sad to say goodbye. I hope that from the disorientation we open ourselves for improvement, to consider how things could be otherwise.

We returned to NYC on Sunday night. Jay says "it's like we never left." But we did. We are still disoriented, wondering how we will be different.

We both agree that we are moved by the generosity of our hosts, how they opened their doors, let us into their homes, and shared their love and stories. Thank you so much to Chris and Mike, Coral and Carly, Nancy and Gary, Sam and Pat, Renata and Tom, and Amy and Rune. You make us public school teachers rich, and we share our joy with our students. You restore our faith in humanity so that we can remain idealists in our work with young people. Also, big thanks to my family: Mom for feminist biking know-how, Dad for reviewing all the maps histories and stories, and Cathy and Janet for their love, support, and cheers. And thanks to Jay for loving, trusting, and believing in me. We are both great leaders and working to be better followers.

On the airplane we passed over the San Francisco Bay. Looking north, we could see Mt. Tam poking above the clouds. We will do it one day, but without the panniers. We flew over Berkeley and the hills and highway to Danville. We saw Martinez and the bridge Chris accidentally drove us over, and the one we actually took. Moving forward while looking back, we saw Vallejo and the beginnings of Napa and Sonoma Valley. It was fun to come full circle, and then see it all from above. As we flew back East we stared out the window and saw lands new to us: huge mountains, colorful lakes, white deserts, unknown towns. I'm not sure where we're going next, but there is so much beauty out there to experience. Jay is planning the next adventure -- I just hope it's spicy.

Love,

Diane and Jay

Day 13: Bolinas -- San Francisco

32 miles. The night before Jay deliberated our final route -- hwy 1 or panoramic hwy. We had already tested God riding on the cliffs north of Jenner and we didn't want to test him again (hwy 1 is on the cliffs). But we also didn't want to climb Mt. Tamalpais (panoramic goes up the mountain). Jay read through biker blogs "isn't there an easier way to get there?" and I recalled what Gary the executive director of the Sonoma County Bicycle Coalition emailed me: "there really are not any flat or even moderate routes that will take you where you want to go" and "I grew up in New England and Vermont now seems almost flat compared to most of the Sonoma Coast." I didn't share this with Jay before the trip. Like it or not, sometimes your girlfriend wants to go places that are hard to get to.

We decided on hwy 1, and at breakfast met 2 cyclists from the area who assured it was a popular bike route. Once we got out there, thank goodness there were a lot of cyclists on the road, though we were the only ones with luggage.

That's Bolinas on the cliff to the right, and Stinson beach, a long flat beach, to the left. We though we could shave 6 miles by cutting across the beach, but it turns out they do not connect. However every 4th of July there is an annual tug of war between the two towns. Our dinner waiter informed us Bolinas is the 5 year champion for both men and women.

The marshland between Bolinas and Stinson is a resting ground for seals. We saw dozens of them sleeping in the sun on the beach. In this photo they look like white and grey speckles on the edge of the sand.

We passed by Stinson beach and panoramic hwy, and many cyclists were on the road too. I guess it's a popular weekend ride for cyclists from SF. We then began to climb the cliffs. That's Stinson below and Bolinas in the distance.

Just before the dive down to Muir beach, I looked back and saw Mt. Tam, but before I could pull my phone out it was covered in clouds. Dad, this photo's for you:

Then the descent down to Muir Beach. We passed the famous Pelican Inn, where they offer water for the cyclists and beer for the early morning drinkers. 

Then one last hill. To get from the ocean over to the bay we had one last 600ft climb on hwy 1. We passed the Buddhist meditation center that supplies food to Green's restaurant in SF and does over night stays, 3 meals included:

And were really proud when we made it to the top. See the ocean in the distance.

The panoramic hwy joined back in and it was a fast downhill to Mill Valley and Sausalito, where we grabbed a coffee and watched the bay:

Next stop the grand finale: The Golden Gate Bridge! We were so thrilled but nervous and crowded by all kinds of cyclists. It was very windy, but unlike the cliffs there were guard rails and small children, so I assumed it was safe. We've ridden across the George Washington bridge in NYC but this was unlike anything else in size, height, and grandeur. It was probably the only time in my life I would ride across the GG bridge, so I soaked it all in.

We did it!!!!! But what do you do when you're done? My immediate answer is open a bottle of champaign, but Jay wanted Indian food. Our differences, hunger, and disorient made us late to solving our logistical problem: the bike box, but our amazing selfless friends Amy and Rune bailed us out.

They got us our boxes, and we got to their place around 6pm with a bottle of bubbly. One last climb up Connecticut street, and our loop complete. We are back where we started.

I am blessed to have best friends that will bail me out of a rut, and also open their home, arms, and glasses to a wonderful send-off and welcome home. We pop champaign (Sonoma coast bubbly) on the balcony

and drink in their community garden. They are growing black tomatoes, heirloom lettuce, and early girls to name a few, are active in garden politics (see guerrilla gardening), study permaculture, and do yoga. She's a chemist and he's an entrepreneur. We will miss them, and California.

Jay treats us to a lovely meal at Serpentines (local-organic of course) and we celebrate Amy's birthday. 

We sleep great in the home and love of others, but are sad to go.

Day 12: Inverness -- Bolinas

18 + 8 miles. The mushroom room was only available for one night, so we had to find another place to stay. I so bad wanted to see the lighthouse where you can spot whales migrating during the fall and spring, the beaches where elephant sea lions give birth, the elk on Tomales point, the cliffs dropping into the Pacific. Point Reyes National Park is wild. This whole piece of land sits on the west side of the San Andreas fault zone and moves up 2 inches/year. There is even a mountain lion whose call sounds like a woman's scream. We will have to come back, maybe hike and camp next time.

The only place we could get a room was Smilys Saloon in Bolinas. Everyone seems to know this place and laughs. It's a quirky town infamous for removing road signs that point the way to avoid tourism, and Smilys is an icon. I've never stayed at a saloon, but why not live like a rockstar.

We didn't leave without fully appreciating Mankas Inverness. They deliver breakfast to your door including homemade yogurt, local honey, homemade granola, hot cinnamon buns, and homemade local apple juice and hot coffee, so beautifully served. What luxury! Our room is totally private and in the woods too -- we hope to return.

From this side of the bay we see restored wetlands and elephant mountain. See the elephant?

Lunch at Cowgirl

Dessert at Bovine Bakery -- thank goodness we are working out!

We run into these guys up the road. The dude in front is moving from Washington to SF via bicycle (no moving truck). The dude in bike biked from New Jersey to the west coast and is now heading south. They are eating pot brownies. I explain to Jay the different bike cultures of touring, road, and mountain bike.

The route is ON the San Andreas fault line. To our right is Point Reyes and left the Golden Gate Recreation Area. We are in a beautiful valley.

It's hilly here too and a tractor trailer did flip over in a switchback. We biked by the scene though cars were turned back.

We used GPS to get to Bolinas because sure enough there was no sign. We pass several gardens with big leafy greens on the way in. We check in at the bar, which is open 7:30am -- 2am. The bar tender is very nice and explained the room is clean and music not too loud. Clearly it's what Jay refers to as a "wham bam thank you mam" type of place but we don't really have other options. And I guess that is the life of a rockstar.

We bike to the Point Reyes Bird Observatory to try to get glimpse of the cliffs but we can only see Point Reyes in the distance.

Instead, we come to an overlook and see San Francisco. We are almost there. Our legs are tired, but we are sad it's almost over.

We eat across the street, walk to the beach, and listen to live music from our room. Smileys is hopping. I try not to touch the floor with my bare feet.

Day 11: Bodega Bay -- Inverness

38 miles. Bodega Bay is where The Birds was filmed. There's also a nice harbor. We have breakfast on the water and spot a few sea lions. 

But when I return the key to the Bodega Harbor Inn they yell from a back room "you can just leave" and then mumble "and don't come back." They also coughed obnoxiously last night and sprayed air freshener while Jay microwaved our home cooked Indian dinner. It's so so sad to see such bigotry, but Jay says they win when they make you feel bad. We will take care of this when we get back to New York.

Luckily, we have a great tour guide from Tom at the Mar Vista outlining what to eat the way down hwy 1. We first bike inland to Tamales. I have a lemon bar at the Tomales Bakery and Jay has a ginger cookie.

We are in dairy country now, so there are lots of cows and dry grass covering hills. The hills don't stop -- we switch gears constantly from high to low with the downs and ups. Jay is really improving his biking -- we are about the same speed now! We bike along water between two mountain ridges and then turn into the Tomales Bay.

Our next stop is The Marshall Store, which is famous for their oysters. Oysters are harvested in Tomales Bay and shipped to SF. You can also get BBQ oysters, which are a California thing served with garlic bread. I've been interested in oysters since my trip to France, how you squeeze lemon and they sliver down your throat. But alas, I am a vegetarian and Jay is likely allergic to shell fish, so I have a vegetarian panini and he has pulled pork. They are both outstanding. The cheese excellent. It's a shame though because the oysters were $1 each and people were ordering dozens at a time.

Great outdoor eating area

and our seagull friend.

Across the bay is Point Reyes National Seashore. That's where we are going. It looks lush with a variety of different trees, a natural wonderland. On the other side of it is the Pacific Ocean. On our side, there are bald hills dotted with black and white cows, and lots of ups and downs.

We make it to Point Reyes, a hot spot for local-organic foods, and go to the Cowgirl Creamery. For me it's heaven! Jay stays with the bikes (dairy free). There are many cheeses from this area. Another popular one is Point Reyes Blue, which we saw on menus in wine country.

We are going to Inverness, which our guide says "reeks of Berkeley professors." Great. But the Tomales Bay Resort is run down and the guy checking us in is very rude. I wasn't in the mood for it, so we had to leave.

It's tough being stuck on bikes as the sun is setting with no place to go, but every Crenshaw girl knows how to change a hotel room. Staying true to the guide, we call Mankas Inverness Lodge (Renata from Mar Vista was a manager here, and we trust her taste). They have a room for us, the mushroom room, and they give us a discount and a couple glasses of wine upon arrival. Laurie, the lovely woman checking us in, is married to a Jamaican and has 2 daughters studying science.

The room is gorgeous, on par with the Ritz Carlton. Notice the mushrooms, spa music in the background too.

We go to dinner at Saltwater, a local-organic walk down the road. Our waitress is the girlfriend of the head chef. They just moved here from SF. He comes to greet us and explains he uses ingredients from the area, wild fish in the bay, produce from people's gardens, even gives people credit on the menu. He explains food tastes better when it's from people who care.

We agree and feel well cared for in our luxury room. We share a bottle of rose from the Sonoma Coast. I think wine tastes best when it's from an area you've biked.