San Francisco Part 2 (So Much Coffee, So Little Time)

Four Barrel:Store

     My eyes have seen and my lips have tasted the glory of what lies waiting to be discovered within the belly of the great city of San Francisco.  It's hard to say what touches the human emotion enough to bring forth tears.  For some it's the delicate sunrise on a dewy morning.  For others it's the cascading sound of a small brass ensemble.  For others still it's the bubbling joy that comes from the laughter of a newborn babe. But for me it's the robust taste of a well pulled shot of espresso.  Needles to say I was running through the streets of San Francisco weeping continuously.  But seriously, there was sooooo much good coffee... and I tried all of it.

Four Barrel:Slow Bar

  
     My day started at about 11:00am as I walked two blocks down the street to a coffee shop called Four Barrel.  When I walked through the unassuming door what did my eyes behold?  A magical land of coffee was laid out in front of my eyes.  The store was much deeper than it was wide which was necessary because there needed to be space for the roasting a packaging that was going on right behind the bar.  There's not much more I can say about this place than it was amazing.  The espresso was bright and sweet and the slow brewed El Salvador was earthy.  An amazing place to start.
     The barista directed to my next stop witch was Ritual Coffee.   The place was cool and my macchiato was great but it didn't have the magical flare of Four Barrel.  The baristas were talented and the coffee amazing, but there was no roasting in the store which took away from the aura that I was looking for.
    

Blue Bottle

Sight Glass

     My next two stops were interesting.  The shops weren't more than little stands tucked inside the recess of a building.  The had to have been only 250 square feet at the most.  But what they lacked in size they made up for in amazing coffee.  Sight Glass and Blue Bottle are the tiniest most delicious coffee places I've ever been to.  You kind of just walk right up, get you're drink, espresso or cappuccino or whatever, drink it real quick and be on your way.  This is reminiscent to the Italian way of doing coffee.  The last stop was Farm Table, yet another tiny coffee stand but it had some dining in space and there was a delicious garlic aroma lingering around the store.  So by the end of the day I had consumed more caffeine than the average person drinks in a week and I was feeling it.  I was slightly dehydrated and nearly passed out but it was all worth it.  The day will live forever in my mind as a warm, chemically driven, toasty blanket wrapped around the neurons and synapses of my brain.

Farm Table

    Before I finish this blog let me talk a little about how you fit in in San Francisco.  Coffee shops usually are the litmus for finding out styles and fashions of a town because coffee, in itself, has become a hip thing to enjoy.  So as I was hanging out in all of these shops I was trying to put my finger on what I would need to look like to fit in as a San Fraciscanite... and it ended up being impossible.  Pretty much all you need to do is be as eccentric as you want and you have the green light for fashion.  There were overalls, heels, shorts, cardigans, jean, corduroy, anything.  It was fun to watch.  San Francisco seems to have so many different types of people that the only way to fit in is to be yourself.

San Francisco Part 1 (The Journey)

Holy Stink... San Francisco was a whirlwind.  So I guess now that the "Road was mine," I decided that I had the stones to throw down some serious riding.  So instead of dilly-dallying around I shot straight from Manresa State Beach, Santa Cruz to San Francisco.  Traveling a grand total of ... 98.6 miles! ( Forget the fact that it took me nearly eleven hours.)  Honestly there weren't any good reasons to stop anywhere anyway.  It was a super foggy day which made nothing seem interesting so I ended up just pushing through most of it.  I suppose my only notable stop was at this really cool organic fruit stand called Swanton Berry Farm.  The reason that this pace was so flippen' cool is not only were the strawberries (chocolate covered the ones of the non-chocolate variety) amazing, it was a pay-by-honor system.  Instead of a cashier there was just an open cash box in the middle of the store surrounded by delicious fruit, and it worked.  Everyone paid the proper amount and nobody took advantage of the situation.  Everyone except me of course... Swanton you fool.

     So I was slammin' and jammin' toward San Fran, pretty happy with my progress when I forgot one crucial thing to prepare for before heading into the big city.  I forgot that San Francisco has the most brutal hills on the planet.  It wasn't all my fault seeing as how I had only heard of these legendary hills second hand, but man... I shouldn't have saved those hills for the end of my 100 mile ride.  Nothing can turn a grown man into a sniveling child like a San Francisco hill.  So yea... it was terrible, but in the back of my mind I had the knowledge of the amazing reward that was set in front of me, a night on a deliciously warm, comfy couch supplied by three gracious hosts, that I had yet to meet, waiting for me in the heart of the city.  So I stuggeled and climbed and pushed and cried and got lost but eventually I reached the front gate of Mick and Russel and Kaylee.

     Mick and Russel are life parters that co-own a high end hair salon called Carmichael Salon.  Russel is the talented and creative stylist and Mick is the business savvy thinker.  And don't forget Kaylee.  She brings the whole picture together.  The reason that I was able to get in contact with Mick in the first place was because of his connection to my mom through Guide Dogs For the Blind, an organization that supplies blind people with seeing eye dogs.  So not only is the organization giving the blind a new life, it is unwittingly connecting it's members and their families to each other's couches.  The night I arrived they took me out to dinner (after a good shower of course because I was looking pretty haggard) and I had for my first time chicken and waffles at the Creole Kitchen.  An interesting combination but tasty none-the-less.

      After a solid night of sleep I took a day to adventure the city.  What a place.  There's nothing quite like it.  I'll try and describe it in the part 2 in my San Francisco blogs.  It was amazing to see how the people got around the city.  I even attempted to ride my bike through the crowded streets.  After almost getting hit a couple times I figured it out as best I could, but I mostly stuck to the cross walks.

Tiny Car

     That night I tried to make my hosts a dinner that represented what I had been eating mostly on the road.  It was an interesting mix of mango, quiona, avocado and peanut butter. I thought it came out decent enough and they seemed to like it, or were just polite and tolerated it.  Afterward we ended that night with a journey to a bumpin' ice cream store called Bi Ryte where I had my first "salted caramel" ice cream.  Amazing.

     The next morning I thanked my hosts for their incredible hospitality  and started out on another big day.  After 78 miles to Bodaga Bay I found a tiny corner with some WiFi where I managed to quickly write down some thoughts.  This blog is getting long so I'm going to try and get some more San Francisco stuff in a Part 2.

THE VERVE!!!/Santa Cruz

After a casual 50 mile ride from Caramel Heights, with knees blazing, I pulled into a nice site in Santa Cruz called New Brighton.  It was a relief because this had been my seventh day of riding and my body was really starting to feel it.  Santa Cruz would be my home for a day.  Nothing really amazing happened that night.  I did go to a cafe called Aptos Roasting Company, and even though they served me a pour over cup of coffee, it was served without care and it ended up tasting unremarkable.  Still it gave me an excuse to grab some WiFi so after a couple minutes and a few conversations with some locals I packed it up and went back to New Brighton to rest and get ready for my day off.  A couple of riders from San Francisco were there when I got back named Jo and Mike.  (So many Mike... So many Jo...)  Some cool guys just having a quick riding adventure.
    The next morning was Sunday, June 12 so I found a church to attend called Coastlands Aptos Foursquare Church.  It was really great attending a service for the morning.  The people we're really welcoming and I ended meeting a couple "couples" that offered me a place to stay on my return trip.  Thank you Natalie/Rob and Rudy/Carissa.  I hope to see you in a few months.

      After the service was over it was time... time for the VERVE!!! YEAAAAAA!!!  Little did I know that nestled within the downtown of Santa Cruz was a place that would change my life forever.  Well, maybe it wasn't that paradigm shifting but it truly was an amazing coffee experience.  After an espresso, macchiato, Assuvium/Guatemala drip and a latte I felt knocked off my feat.  Partly because I haven't consumed that much coffee for a good two weeks, but mostly because it all tasted amazing.  The single origin espresso from Costa Rica couldn't have been sweeter and every milk drink was creamy and delicious.  I almost sent my latte back though.  I thought there could have been one more rosetta in it... there was only five of them.  As I was leaving, the barista Stacie gave me some good tips on some more amazing spots that I hadn't heard of in San Francisco and I walked out of that shop in complete coffee bliss.  Being away from good coffee for a couple weeks made me forget that coffee could taste like that.  (Sigh.)

     The afternoon was a little frustrating because I unexpectedly learned that you can't stay in New Brighton two nights in a row.  (I would like to write a strongly worded letter to whomever decided that that should be a rule.)  So I had to back track about 9 miles to a park called Manresa.  Kind of a bummer because it put be back about a hour for the next day.  It was still a nice place and I got to bed early because I was hoping to start early make it to San Francisco the next day which is a good 90 miles away.  When I woke up there was a biker named Jonathan that had come in a little later so we had a quick conversation about what each of us were doing, swapped a banana for a cliff bar and said goodbye.  As I was pulling away he said, "The road is yours Beau."  Which, I think, is the most epic thing one rider can say to another.  I'm taking that one John.  So to all you touring riders out there.  The road is yours!  (Trade Mark: Beau Trembly)

Big Sur...rrr

When I thought I was having a good time.

     The past couple days have been really, really difficult.  I left Morro Bay feeling pretty good.  It was a little overcast, mild temperatures, overall some pretty decent riding conditions.  Then it all went sour.  There is this thing that bikers talk about with awe.  A legendary monster makes grown mens hearts turn to custard.  Well let me tell you that the mythical Prevailing Winds are real.  Very real and very terrible.  Honestly, I had no idea how bad it would really be.  I remember all the bike dudes at the shops saying, "Buddy, you're going the wrong way for this time of year."  And inside I would laugh thinking to myself that surely it couldn't be that bad, silly old-timers.  Oh but was I wrong.  So my whole morning was spent fighting with the wind and after that was through I met Mr. Big Sur.  (That's Dr. Mr. Big Sur to you.)  So again I get to go from zero feet above sea level to 1000.  Only this time it took longer.  I didn't really realize how hard this would be until that day, when I was cranking at my lowest gear for hours on end and swearing obscenities to the mountain itself.  I finally rolled into Plaskett Lake State Park at seven pm with nothing left in me.

     As I was looking for the hike/bike site a twenty something girl got my attention and asked if I wanted to share their with them.  Enter: Marie and Kathrin.  These two are a Mother/Daughter team on a whirlwind camping trip from Seattle to LA.  Marie was in a pair (which is another way to say nannying) for a family in Long Island, New York for two years when she finally decided it was time to go home.  As a last hurrah, her mother Kathrin and her decided to do this three week camping trip together before heading home to somewhere in East Germany.  (Sorry you two, I forgot the name of your town.)  It was really great to have some people to share the evening with after such a hard day.  We got a campfire started with some illegally gathered sticks and twigs from the area, bummed some marshmallows off some of the campers next to us and just had a good time sharing stories.  They also sang some really cool German songs.  In the morning they graciously shared some hot tea with me and went on their way to LA.  Thank you Marie and Kathrin, you really lifted my spirits.

   Again, I woke up, put my gear away and was mildly optimistic about the day ahead of me.  Friday June 10th has been the hardest/worst day of the trip so far.  Just when I think I've had the hardest day, another comes and just takes the cake.  I had to climb the second half of Big Sur which was even worse than the first which took me close to five hours.  Immediately at the base of the mountain is this place the locals call Hurricane Point.  (Or something of that nature.)  Where the winds are so strong it was all I could do to stay on my bike.  I actually fell a couple times.  Once while I was still clipped into my pedals.  It was truly demoralizing.  With my head down all I could think about was putting one pedal down at a time and staying on my side of the road.  It couldn't have been over sooner.  Then again I had another spicy hill to climb, Caramel Hight's, and as my legs couldn't take any more I had to crash in a small hidden state beach right next to a school.  It was my first experience ninja camping.  It wasn't an official state park so I just had to stay concealed and get out of there as early as I could.  Which was no problem because I zonked out at eight and woke up at five thirty.
  
      Although the experience was pretty terrible it wasn't all bad.  Big Sur had been closed due to mud slides for months but right as I was passing through CalTrans opened it.  Also, as I was at the highest low of the ride a woman waiting as her son started his bike ride gave me some cherries and a sandwich.  It just seems to be how it's going to go.  As I get to my lowest that's when something good happens.  I just wish there wasn't so many lows.

Almond Scone/Ethiopia

     Two interesting things happened as I've been writing right now.  I realized I had a tick in my ankle... (AHHH) and two riders popped into the coffee shop where I'm sitting.  Two riders going north!  Kindrid spirits that were a very welcome site to my eyes.  It's good to have someone to share suffering with.  They had experienced the same winds that I had yesterday and we were both equally broken.  But safe travels to you both and I'm sure we'll meet again on this crazy road north.  By the way, I'm having a good cup of locally roasted Ethiopan coffee courtesy of the Carmel Valley Coffee/Roasting Co.  Very well done guys.  The best cup I've had since I've started this trip.

2500

The hill into Jompoc can only be rivaled by the hill out of Jompoc.  I hate hills.  It was one of those windy mountain ones that are even scarier going down because my brakes only do such a good job slowing down me and my caboose.  But I made it.  On the way out I met a couple of touring kids from San Francisco.  I haven't seen a fellow rider in a couple days so it lifted my soul just to see some guys on two wheels.  We quickly shared our stories and wen't our separate ways.  Little did I know that I was about to be going the opposite way of 2,500 more touring riders from San Francisco.  Apparently there is this thing called Life Cycle for aids in which after raising entrance money you can be apart of an assisted tour from San Francisco to LA to help raise money for aids research.  And apparently they started on June 5th, the same day that I started.  So to my amazement rider after rider rode by me and I found myself waving until my hand started hurting.  There were some absolute characters riding also.  Some of the more flamboyant persuasion pretty much looked like what Elton John would look like if he decided to do a 500 mile bike tour.  It was good.

      74 miles later I pulled into Morro bay (the hike and bike camp site is only 5$!) and got found my camp site.  I was greeted by this animal that must have been half Rottweiler half radioactive brown bear. This dog was giant.  He gave me two short barks and then started leaning on my leg, half knocking me over, demanding my affection.  His owners Erick and Sally were near by and took their dog Alvin back and we ended up having a good conversation while the sun went down.  They gave me some coffee and some beer and I sat at their site and we just shared campings stories.  It turns out that they have a house on the coast of Washington that I'll probably be passing and they may be there about the time I will.  It would be cool to see them again.

  

     I'm writing from a independent roaster/coffee house called the Top Dog Cafe while drinking a proper french press El Salvador.  Jonathan the barista is doing a good job managing the steady flow of customers coming to this bumping spot in down town Morro Bay.  I better leave soon or I'm going to experience the prevailing winds later this afternoon.  Hopefully I'll get somewhere around Cambria today and be able to put my feet up and rest a little.

Joffery, not Jeffery

I dedicate this post solely to one slammin' cool cat in Lompoc named Joffery.  (Not Jeffery)  Just as I was about to have the worst day ever I met Mr. Joffery and he showed me something like what I would image southern hospitality would look like.  We met in the town's bike shop, both with our own bike problems, and after a short conversation I asked if I could pitch my tent in his yard for the night.  It was getting later and after the day I had there was no way I was getting on my bike and riding the hill out of Jompoc.  Joffery one-upped me not only by letting me stay inside his house, but also by driving me around town and buying my one of the best burritos I've ever had the pleasure of introducing to my taste buds.  (Angela's in Jompoc... find it, it' worth it.)  We ended the night by sharing Maxwell house coffee.  It's ok, he doesn't really drink coffee so it was all he had in his house but we made it decent by throwing some kahula in it.  That night I slept on his fold out couch bed and we bid each other adieu early wednesday morning July 8th, which coincidentally is Joffery's birthday!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOFFERY!
    If the birds don't worry about where they're going to eat or sleep then why should I.  I believe that Joffery and I were put together at that moment to prove this very thing.  I'm amazed.  It seemed to be more that simple coincidence.  Thank you so much Joffery I hope to meet you again some day.
  

Lompoc California

Today I'm in Lompoc.  It is only thirty five miles from the beautiful and amazing Refugio Park where I stayed last night, but it was a grueling thirty five.  Refugio State Park (a beautiful and amazing place) is zero feet above sea level.  Lompoc is 1000 feet above sea level.  Needless to say that there was a hill or two... Actually there was a three mile hill and an amazingly scary tunnel.  I mean I wasn't scared.  It wasn't like I was walking my bike like a terrified little ninny or anything.  After that I had a tube pop which is a bummer because I have to take everything off my bike to change it.  It's a time consuming ordeal.  So after I took everything off changed the tube, put everything back on again and started riding it took me about fifteen minutes only for my new tube to pop also.  AHHH!  I did this three times.  Fortunately I was able to walk my bike to a bike shop in Lompoc.  The employee then proceeded to remove the piece of glass that was causing all my misfortune.  Next time I'll be more observant when changing my tubes.

      So I'm staying tonight in the yard of a cool dude named Joffery.  We met at the bike shop and I asked him if he would let me crash on his lawn tonight and he agreed.  I'm stoked because this means that I won't have to throw down the ten dollars for a camp site.  Thanks Mr. Joffery.

    Hopefully I get a good nights sleep because I plan on putting a good eighty miles in tomorrow.  This is proving to be more exhausting than I thought.  It's only three and I'm ready for bed.