tuesday morning and fog so thick that it could have been the severn bridge and not the golden gate that i was riding over. clocked 1020 miles at the apex, deep waters and pelicans swirling below; it was supposed to be a 900 mile trip but diversions for cake add up to a few more, as usual.
oregon was just lovely, but california is weird, a strange mix of hippy-unfriendly that makes me wonder whether or not it's worth the effort. for every nice person i meet, there's another wacko just around the corner waiting to harangue me about the "english" and "their" war (be that the current situation or WW2 it seems we, or even i, am to blame for both and all). this morning's relief to slip into the city streets and become no-one again; bike tourists stuck out more and more the further south we came.
the gdr comedown has been neatly tempered by the trip down the coast. there is a happy rolling community all heading south; new friendships, in that pleasantly transient way of brief nights around a picnic table over supper and beers, endless superficial chat, no need to reveal or share too much, but a few days ago i realised that i needed to escape the slower pace we'd fallen into and exhaust myself again. it seems that some habits die hard and sleep becoming elusive means that i simply have to work harder to tire myself out before my head hits the pillow. unless i want to spend the night feeling my legs trying to pedal their way on down the road alone. i'd hoped that this would be something i could escape once 'it' was over but maybe not. maybe it was like that before 'it' all began. i can't remember.
so, a few hours in the city, wandering around on foot, accomplishing mundane chores and waiting, really, for a train to denver where i'll see the first familiar face for eight weeks. this blog (and emails, and trip planning, and checking back in with the world for really far longer than is polite) kindly bought to you by the apple store, san francisco...