Sequoia’s: Mother Nature vs. Melissa (Part 1)

Entering Sequoia Natioanl Park from the north

I will always remember my ride through Sequoia National Park, it's frozen, literally, in my mind! Mother Nature put me to the test, and I prevailed (just barely).  I had come from California’s coast where they had been having a heat wave.  When it is hot outside, it is hard to fathom the weather any other way, you just think it is hot everywhere!  By the time I reached Fresno, I could tell that the heat wave was breaking.  In fact, the night before I headed up to the Sequoia’s, it hailed.  The next morning there were clouds in the sky and it seemed as if it could rain, but it held off until the last 5 miles of my ride that day.

The lingering clouds had finally decided to let down and I arrived to my host’s house wet and cold.  Thankfully, a warm shower awaited!  How lucky am I there is a warm shower host 10 miles from The Sequoia and Kings Canyon entrance.  Linn is an avid cyclist and done a lot of tour cycling and riding, so it was great to share stories with her.  I went to bed that night not knowing if the weather was going to hold for me.  When I got rained on that day, half a foot of snow had fallen in The Sequoia’s and the temperatures had dropped.

Small Sequoia's at the start of my ride

Snow on the ground= getting higher and colder!

Thankfully I woke up to beautiful sunny skies and was delighted.  I probably should have started riding early, but I wanted to do a blog post, so I lingered around Linn’s until about 10 am and finally got on the road. Besides, it was sunny, I was all set.  Again, I am so narrow-minded when it comes to the weather.  It was sunny where I was, so I just thought it would be sunny everywhere!

Hope I'm out before then!

It was gorgeous for the first hour and a half up to the park entrance.  But the ranger at the entrance warned me that there might be slush at the top of the pass.  I put on some warmer clothes and kept climbing.  I knew I had a good deal of climbing to do, but I didn’t think it would take 3 hours to go 30 kilometers!  By the time I got to the first lodge, it had become foggy and cold.  Visibility was really low, luckily there weren’t many cars. I could see the trees in the forest, but not much else.  It would clear from time to time and the road kept going up.  Meanwhile the temperature kept dropping.  I watched it go from about 9C to 2C in the matter of 6 miles. 

The view from the Montecido Lodge, people were skiing!

Sure, just go right ahead and make yourself at home Melissa!

I welcomed the excuse to stop at the Montecito lodge.  I knew I couldn’t relax here for too long, I still had 70 kilometers left for the day. I really wanted was a cup of hot chocolate with my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the girl working the desk at the lodge was so nice she didn’t even charge me (not even after I admitted I filled my mug up twice and took a few sugar cookies that were left out from lunch).  She also gave me some good news.  I had reached the highest elevation at their lodge and the majority of what was left was downhill.  Downhill, on a day like today, is a double-edge sword.  Although I get a break from all the hard work, not expending energy equates to getting cold when descending in severely cold weather. For a good while I was preoccupied looking at the temperature on my GPS drop dramatically and hover around 1 and 2C.  I hadn’t seen colder temperatures than 4C on my trip so far, hence a new record was about to be set. It was raining and sleeting, but since it wasn’t quite cold enough mid-day, the snow wasn’t sticking.   I was also keeping entertained looking at the trees.  Sequoias are unique pines in that their trunks can be so vibrantly red in color and their trunks elongated without any branches until the top of the canopy.

The famous General Sherman, up close and personal

Before I knew it, I was at The General Sherman Tree.  It’s the iconic tree in the park and I got to see it in a unique state, covered in snow! General Sherman was impressive, a massive tree in a forest of other incredibly large trees. On a summer day, I wouldn’t have been able to pedal right up to the tree, but on a day like today, hardly anyone was around.  After a few photos, I hit the road again.  It was getting late and I still had about 40 kilometers to go down to town outside the park.  It was late, but since a long descent awaited me, I knew I would make it before dark, I had to make it, there weren’t any other camping options up high, all the campgrounds were still closed.

Coldest recorded temperature of my trip

The descent was excruciatingly painful due to the cold. I already had all my heavy duty winter gear on- I could have started piling on layer after layer of normal shirts, but I o chose the “grin and bear it” option.  Just before I set out, I saw my GPS hit -0,1C (31F), I had to take a picture. It was officially the coldest temperature of my trip! I headed down the pass. The road was damp, but it wasn’t raining anymore. I tried to sing to stay entertained, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was “Bhhhrrrrr!” I couldn’t stop saying Bhhhrrrrr in all different tones and lengths.  I was beyond freezing! My teeth were chattering, I couldn’t feel my hands or toes and I had worked myself into a panic and the “Bbhhrrrr!” now became whimpering sounds and painful little cries (Click here for the video)!

Painfully Cold Descent from theloongwayhome on Vimeo.

It’s like I’m hyperventilating, I think I was in a bit of shock or the onset of hypothermia.  The descent had gotten the best of me and I worked myself into a state of distress.  I’ve done a lot of cycling in mountains, but I don’t remember ever being so cold!  Of course I wasn’t reasoning correctly and I assumed the temperature below was going to be the same as it was up in the park, which made motivating myself a real challenge.

One on the many many curve on this technical and cold descent

How was I going to survive this 40 km descent?  I stopped about 10 kilometers in to try to calm myself down.  I needed to get warm and eat something.  I shoved a whole bag of almonds in my mouth and then got off my bike and started to dance around and shake my arms and legs frantically (Click here to witness the dancing).

                  

The Warm-up Dance from theloongwayhome on Vimeo.

This was the only way I could think to warm-up.  A few cars passed going up and coming down, I’m sure they thought I was weird.  What a sight to see; all dressed in black with a hood covering up my helmet so only my nose and eyes was exposed. 

Too many rewarding views to capture heading towards Three Rivers, CA

The dancing helped, and so did the fact I that I was dropping elevation.  I hopped back on my bike and continued to ride.  So many sharp turns, steep, with great views all around.  I rode from 7,300 ft (2,500m) to about 1,000ft. (400m) in the matter of 40 min.  I started warming up little by little as the elevation went down so that I could enjoy the scenery. I stopped a few times, once at a look out which is where I met a random host for that night. Luckily, I was warm and dry that night, on the floor of a Comfort Inn, but obviously down at the bottom of Sequoia National Park, temperatures right at sunset were around 80F, a striking difference from the 31F up top.

Can you find the road hidden down there?

Being cold is one of my least favorite experiences on a bike, but I don’t know if it is better than a blustering head wind or scorching heat.  I will soon let you know.  Mother Nature put me to the test going through The Sequoia’s and I passed, barely.   Now I’m headed over to Death Valley.  Wouldn’t you know they are calling for record high temperatures there this coming week and gusty wind?!?!  I’ve never been through a true desert, at least one that lasts for a hundred plus miles.  I have been doing a lot of research and planning for this portion of my ride, but after my experience in Sequoia, I realize no matter how prepared you feel, there are always forces of nature that are completely out of your control battling against you at any given moment.

Decisions, Decisions........

Decisions, decisions.....Choices, choices, choices, and more choices!!!  There are a bizzilion choices here in The United States, enough to make a simple decision drive you crazy.  Take something as simple as having a cup of coffee.  Let’s just ignore the fact that I had to pick up my morning coffee at a 7 Eleven (Hey, I was in Lemore, CA, so remote and small, there wasn’t a local coffee shop around or else I would have supported them).  I walked into the 7 Eleven just wanting a cup of coffee.  Simple, right? WRONG.  It took me about 20 minutes to prepare my cup of coffee.

A beautiful coffee section at the 7 Eleven causes me a headache

I was faced with a selection of coffee that would make you think you were at a coffee “all-you-can drink” buffet.  Preparing a cup of coffee becomes an adventure similar to the young adult novels “Choose Your Own Adventure” I used to read when growing up. All of a sudden my heart started to beat faster, I got sweaty palms, shortness of breath, my mind was spinning, all because of the amount of choices I had to make to buy a cup of coffee.  In fact, I was so overwhelmed, I had to leave, ride down the road, go get some groceries and come back, to prepare mentally for the battle.  Yes, I equate getting a cup of coffee to a battle because it honestly feels like you are fighting with your mind, trying to make a million decisions, when all you want is something so simple, coffee with milk!

From right to left, small, medium, large, x-large,.....xx large?!?!?

First, you have to decide what size coffee you want.  For me, the small size was even too large.  The American size “small” doesn’t even exist in Spain- it’s massize in comparison to anything you can find in Europe, unless it is a coke at a McDonalds!  Of course, the larger the size, the cheaper the price, so automatically you begin to think….“Well, I really don’t need a coffee that big, but it is cheaper, why not!” If you don’t have any self control, you end up with something bigger than you really need.  I’m proud to say I stood my ground and got a small.

This machine is the easy way out.....powder, chemicals, and hot water,....voila, coffee!!!

Next, you have to decide what sort of coffee you want…..roasted coffee or coffee from a machine.  Actually, all I really wanted was a café con leche, espresso with a bit of milk, but that just wasn’t an option! If you choose coffee from a machine, all you had to do was press a button and voila,…cup filled with powder, chemicals, and water!  Of course, you have to choose from a normal cappuccino, a banana flavor cappuccino, a low fat vanilla option, or a normal vanilla option.  Really?!?! Do you really need so many choices? The machine can be the simplest option, because if you choose the roasted coffee, read on to  see what choices you now face.

Seriously, Energy Roast, what could that possibly be?

Roasted coffee, there are also about 6 different roasted varieties from hazelnut to an energy roast, premium roast, to decaf, and a Brazilian roast.  If they would have put a small description by each, I would have spent an additional hour reading them and trying to decide.  Once you decide which type of coffee you want, you have to decide the type of milk or cream to add.  You have some more natural choices: half & half or a French vanilla flavor “non-dairy” option.  If neither of those sound appealing, well, you have all sorts of little creamer samplers, about six different options to be exact from amaretto to irish coffee, toffee, hazelnut and French vanilla.  So really, at this time in the coffee making process, you could have a hazelnut roasted coffee add a amaretto cream.  What would it taste like,….I can’t even imagine?!?!  Then you can make it even sweeter by adding a sweetener. 

what about just fresh milk?  Too natural I guess!

Look at the size of these pumps! Artificial goodness in a squirt!

Sugar makes coffee sweet, right?  Well, not necessarily.  To make your coffee even sweeter, and even more artificial, you can add a million different types of sweeteners from the good old white sugar to raw sugar, Splenda and Aspertame (you can also go back and add powder cream at this point….) or you can pump out some liquid sweetener including sugar-free varieties, a hazelnut flavor, French vanilla, or honey. 

Wonder if I could roast these on a campfire?  Do I dare try?

Your cup of coffee is sounding pretty delicious right about now…..But you aren’t finished.  Don’t forget to top it off with some powders…..you can choose ground cinnamon, cocoa powder, vanilla, or even mini dehydrated marshmallows!  Amazing!!  So now, really you could have a French premium roast, with a non-dairy French creamer with a french vanilla sweetener added, dusted with a french vanilla powder, topped with mini-marshmellows, yummy! Is this still coffee? It sound to me like it’s more of an upscale dessert drink which probably tastes nothing like coffee in the rest of the world!  And we wonder why American struggle with being over weight?!?!  This is just the coffee selection that exists at a & Eleven, imagine a restaurant, café, or the supermarket.

The back side, just in case everyone takes as long as me getting a cup of coffee, I won't slow down the line....

Personally, I think the insulated mugs are the best deal, if only they fit in my bottle cage!

Did I mention that the 7 Eleven coffee area was a back-to-back coffee bar? Yes, a two-sided coffee bar!  Oh, and if you wanted, you could have purchased an insulated coffee mug for $1.99 and had your first cup free, what a deal!  Too bad they don’t fit in my bottle holder on my bike or else I would have done that.  Maybe I can call the 1-800 number and see if they will make these mugs to fit in my bottle cage.... or better yet, force it in my bottle cage, start to ride and sue the company after it spills and burns my leg while riding!

I’m speechless! Appauled….horrified!  Choice, yes, it is wonderful to have options…..but come on, how many options do you really need?  In Spain, god forbid, we have about three different coffee choices, and sometimes I find that daunting: a café solo (only espresso), a cortado (espresso with a wee bit of milk), and café con leche (espresso with more milk).  The sizes range from a shot glass to an 8oz. mug.  If you head down south to the Andalucia region, you might be lucky if the mug size gets bumped up to a 12oz. mug, wow!!  What a treat! If you’ve been following my trip statistics, you know that I’m a coffee connoisseur.  I’ve been pretty happy with the coffee selection everywhere so far on my trip.  Throughout Europe, I could something similar to the Spanish varieties.  In SE Asia coffee was delicious and even richer because of the condensed milk.  There, the only option you had was hot coffee, or coffee with ice.  In Australia and New Zealand, they had more variety: flat whites, cappuccino, latte’s short and long blacks, and piccolos.  You really couldn’t go wrong with any of them their either! 

This is fancy for Spanish coffee....oh how I miss my cafe con leche. I'm going through withdrawal

Now that I’ve landed in The States, I’ve been completely thrown off track.  America, the land of the free…..Free to make whatever choice and decision you want!  But how the hell do you know what you want if you are faced with a massive amount of options? I think I know myself pretty well.  I know what I like, what I want, and what makes me happy.  I should, after all, I spend the majority of my time by myself these days seated on a bike, thinking and talking to myself.  Yet, if you give me a million different options, all of a sudden I have no idea what I want.  I shut down and get completely overwhelmed and can’t make a decision to save my life!

Do I dare tell you what my experience was like going into a frozen yogurt dessert store that same day with a few friends?  Here are the pictures, you can fill in the blanks.  Do you blame me for settling for a McDonald’s soft serve cone?

The only problem with so many choices iwth frozen yogurt is that it melts while you are trying to decide what to put on top!

This is what we ended up with,...can you guess which one is mine?

Ice cream, you can't go wrong no matter how many choices you have it just makes people HAPPY!

Let The Good Times Roll- Thanks to My Hosts

The hospitality in Australia was top notch, but so far the States is keeping right up! I knew it would, Americans are known for being incredibly kind and generous! 

My nephews helping out with Grandma's birthday cake, excited to celebrate together in San Francisco

Hanging out with a 4 year-old is guaranteed to be entertaining

My first host was my brother and his family.  They have three kids and live north of San Francisco in a suburb.  Luckily I got dropped off at his house and didn’t have to climb the enormous hill- a 25% gradient, at least, for a good 100 to 200 meters!  Walter and Jen always do a great job of making me feel at home.  They have 3 boys between the ages of 4 and 10 and have a very active life!   I love staying with them and getting a taste of what life would be like with 3 kids, which means going with the flow and never really accomplishing exactly what you set out to do! Never-the-less, there is never a dull moment!  I got the boys excited about painting pottery, helped out with the driving and picking up of after school activities, went to swim practices, and did some other art projects.  I fit the role so well of being “Mom,” but for now, I’m totally satisfied with being an aunt!

Trying to share my passion of arts and crafts with my nephews

Sushi has become a tradition when I get together with my parents

My second hosts were my parents of course! They picked me up at the airport in San Francisco and were with me for a week.  Despite their car problems, we had a really nice time together.  It felt like we’d just seen each other in Australia, but we still had plenty to talk about.  I was lucky to have some constant companionship, not to mention, I got spoiled- I restocked my coffee and tea supply from the hotels and my sushi craving was satisfied on night two!  Hanging out with Mom and Dad gives me insight into what retired life must be like.  My mom and I were in a parking structure waiting outside the elevator for my Dad.  He had forgotten something in the car and went back up to fetch it.. A man approached the elevator, got in, but then realized, perhaps we were waiting for the elevator too.  After all, we were right in front of the door.  He asked us if we were going up or down.  We just looked at each other, with a puzzled expression, and then I answered, “No, That’s ok. We’re just hanging out!”  We were caught off guard and couldn’t really explain that we really didn’t have a worry in the world, and were perfectly content and carefree talking in a parking structure with no particular place to be.  Welcome to retirement, or the life of a tour cyclist, they are similar in many ways!

Chillin' with Dain after a long ride in the Picos de Europa. Rough life,....beer or ice cream! Why not both?!?!  

My third host was Dain, a TBT client who had a neat house in Moss Beach, California. We cycled in Cantabria together the previous summer.  Those were some difficult days pedaling through the Picos de Europa when our most stressful decision was what to have at the end of a bike ride, an ice cream or a beer. We instantly bonded with similar outlooks on life, and a passion to cycle and explore the world.  My parents and I marveled at Dain’s house and his art collection, not to mention his backyard was literally the beach; rocky cliffs going straight down to the water. Dain wasn’t even home, but he let us stay at his house anyway.  That night we all went to bed listening to the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, delightful!

One of Dain's many pieces of art.  I spent some time talking with this lady

The view from my window waking up in the morning at Dain's place, gorgeous

My next host was an old high school friend, Michelle.  She and her husband have a 2,5 year old daughter and are expecting another child in the Fall.  Although I made a complete detour over some coastal mountains and through a military base to reach her house, it was well worth it to see her.  Michelle and I were together in school from first through 12^th grade in the same Spanish immersion class.  We hadn’t stayed in touch to a considerable extent, except through Facebook.  My bike ride however, makes for the perfect excuse to visit some of my childhood friends.  She is also a teacher and set me up with a half-day visit to her school, my first public school visit in the States.  I also hadn’t had an authentic Mexican meal in years, and her town is filled with Taquerias and all sorts of Mexican restaurants, absolutely delicious! 

Loved the authentic Mexican food in King City- Can't believe the size of that burrito, actually could have eaten 2!

This was only about half the goodies that Murdock gave me!

Following Michelle, I had a completely unexpected host.  My trip wouldn’t certainly be the same without my spontaneous and completely random moments!  Coming back from Michelle’s town I stopped at the top of the massive climb again, to refill my water bottles at the fire station up top.  There was a firefighter in the parking lot and I asked him if I could use the water tap.  He wouldn’t have anything of it,…..he wasn’t going to let me have that water since it hadn’t been treated even though I was going to use my filter. He insisted that I come in and have a cold Gatorade.  Murdock was his name and he was incredibly impressed with my trip, so much so, that he wanted to gift me with anything that could help me out,….emergency meals, sunscreen, flashers, emergency blankets, insect repellent, dried fruit, energy bars, you name it!  I left the fire station hydrated and with my arms filled with lots of goodies, it was like Christmas had come in May!  Even better was the invite to stay down at his house on the coast after the descent. 

Now that is a true 49ers fan

Murdock was a great host and has set me up with several friends and fire stations in Central California

Murdock lived on the coast and worked at the fire station at the top of the hill, but his wife and family were in Central California close to The Sequoias were he used to be a firefighter.  He was a big 49er fan and his guest bedroom and bathroom was covered in their memorabilia!  Little did I know he was also a big time traveler and loved his fair share of adventures-from hiking to marathon running and scuba diving.  His fridge, like mine back home in Barcelona, was filled with magnets of all the different places he traveled.  He was also a collector of fire station patches and it just so happened that he traded them with a fire fighter back in Barcelona!  We had a great time talking about our travels, life,…in fact, when learning about his wife, he told me that he proposed to her while they were scuba diving in Cabo San Lucas.  After the whale boning tales from Sam back in Australia, I wasn’t going to fall for any more far fetched tales.  But this happened to be true, I watched the video!  After he shared that, I felt compelled to share with him a secret I haven’t told anyone about how I’d love a future partner to propose to me.  I’ve never disclosed this information to anyone because it is a really personal and intimate topic.  At this rate, I don’t know if I’ll ever get married either, but Murdock seemed like a nice guy, and appreciated those little creative and original personal touches, so I felt like the moment was right to disclose the information.  Random,  I know!

Orienteering, my new favorite sport! I guess I'm a "natural", after all I do it all day long on my bike

My next hosts weren’t as random, but their hobbies were.  Steve and Sheila were friends of family friends of mine back in Eugene, Oregon.  They lived in Cambria and were both teachers.  In his free time, Steve enjoyed orienteering. He participated in national and international competitions plus he made maps.  You know how much I love to look at maps, so I was fascinated!  I never realized orienteering was such a complex sport comprised of critical decision-making and a strategic terrain selection. You have to find your way through an area with a map, while running on trails or through the bush and find different landmarks as fast as possible.  I mentioned my interest in running and before I knew it I was out orienteering with him the next morning.  Steve ran about 5 feet behind me as I tested out one of his maps on a network of trails in a forest that overlooked the ocean.  Although I had to stop from time to time to look at the map and determine my location, I only made one wrong turn.  He told me I was a natural! There you go, just another typical day on my trip- orienteering in the morning before hopping on my bike to attend a wedding on a vineyard!

What a neat idea, a B & B for cyclists and wine tasters

Tonight I’m at a bike bed & breakfast run by Elaine and Scott in Templeton.  They also happen to be Warmshower hosts.  Their bed and breakfast caters to cyclists, although the majority of their clients turn out to me wine tasters.  There are over 200 vineyards in the vicinity and the terrain is a cyclist’s paradise if the head wind doesn’t get the best of you.  I’m setting off shortly to make my way up to The Sequoias.  I will stop and visit a Thomson Bike Tour client, and Murdock has set me up with some fire stations in the area as well as friends and family for me to stay with.   I’m a pretty lucky gal-people take really good care of me regardless of where in the world I am!   

Careful- It's Dangerous Out There!

Going down the Fergusson-Nacimiento Road, the scenery changes dramatically from the Pacific Coast

Along with new terrain comes a whole new set of challenges…… and dangers!  I thought I was going to have to be careful with the weirdoes in The States, but it seems that nature and the geographical challenges are going to be the real threats!  My parents left two days ago and already the adventures have begun!

The view from above the bridge at the campsite (Lime Kiln State Park, Hwy. 1, California)

The beach at Lime Kiln State Park

On my first night alone since Tasmania, I rolled up to the campsite right before dusk. Luckily I had met my first tour cyclists this side of the Pacific just 5 miles beforehand, James and Alexis, and the three of us decided to share a site.  It was a gorgeous campsite right under a tall narrow bridge on the beach, surrounded my mountains and cliffs.  I was so excited to go to sleep listening to the ocean that I decided not to wear my earplugs.  Waves crashing weren’t the only thing I heard that night.  I woke up the first time to sounds of rustling through bags.  I told myself I must have been dreaming, stayed calm, and went back to bed. A bit later, the noise woke me again,…this time it crossed my mind that perhaps animals were out and about at the campsite.  Again, I talked myself into staying calm, thinking positively that is wasn’t animals, and went back to bed.  The third time I heard the noise, I was getting quite frustrated.  Whatever it was out there was disturbing my continuous night sleep and I didn’t want to be tired in the morning, so I made a quick move inside my tent and a bit of a grunt, and it seemed to work.  I scared, whatever it was outside, away.  I’d just come from Australia and had camped in wild areas with kangaroos, wallabies, wombats, possums, and large bats.  The only encounter I’d had there was with possums. One night they were above me in a tree and pooed on my tent.  Their poo is in pellet form, and bounced right off the tent, but their pee, which splashed up on my while eating dinner one night was rather disgusting!

I'm not the only one that likes my prunes!

I woke up the next morning, and sure enough I saw some of my food, which I had inside my panniers, out on the ground.  I had rolled them closed and clipped them shut, not tightly, but being the optimistic or perhaps ignorant person that I am, I didn’t think an animal would really get in.  Here, my first night camping on the Northern California, raccoons it seemed, had gotten in my bags.  There were sandy paw prints on the picnic bench, and they had managed to get food out of two of my bags, and tampered a bit with my toiletries.  One package of beef jerky and an energy bar was missing and my bag of prunes had been half eaten and was completely destroyed.  It or they had torn a hole in the bag and gone to town.  I tried to recover the prunes they didn’t eat as best I could, but they were covered in sand and wiping them off was practically useless! I hadn’t even had the chance to enjoy one prune, my parent’s had just brought them for me from Oregon.  as I’d just got them from my parents before they left.  I was mad, as my mom had brought down the bag from Oregon. I don’t wish bad things upon people, but I was mad at the raccoon.  I hope they gave that raccoon the runs,…after all, he ate about 20 prunes; if prunes have the same affect on animals as they do on humans if eaten in excess, then he’ll be sorry for messing with my food.

Nobody messes with my merino wool t-shirts and gets away with it!

I would have been able to move on if beef jerky and prunes was the only damage that had been done, but when I saw my new merino wool shirt, completely torn to shreds, I was enraged!  Here I had carefully placed it under the picnic table to air out and dry, hidden, to avoid the morning dew.   However, the shirt was in the way of the bike panniers, and so the raccoon had to step on it in order to get to the bags.  It probably smelled so badly that it tried to eat it.  I was furious when I saw my t-shirt!  My new wool shirt was only two days old.  It was a replacement shirt, since I have to purchase new shirts every 3 months when the old ones wear out.

James and Alexis, my camping buddies for the night, very experienced tour cyclist

If I only had seen this sign the night before.......

Those little rascals messed with the wrong person.  They completely changed the way I see those cute little animals.  People had warned me about the wildlife, but I just brushed their comments off!  Now, I was going to take them seriously and step up my protection.  If this was the damaged from a raccoon or two on the Northern California Coast, imagine what I’m in for in Yellowstone with the bears?!?!?   James and Alexis’ stuff had gone untouched (the raccoons were too busy going to town with my food), why?!?  James knew all the secrets and shared them with me later that morning. This meant war, Melissa vs. wildlife !!!

They call it the "Valley of the Oaks"

Speaking of war, I set out that morning with a bit of road rage, or should I say raccoon rage. My anger helped me pedal up a massive climb I that lie between me and King City, my destination that day.  The road was calm, only a few forestry vehicles coming down.  On the top was a deserted fire station, that had a water tap so I could fill my bottle.  I only had one small bottle because I had forgotten to get another at a supermarket before leaving Monterey.  I rode down the other side of the mountains and came to a vast dry valley, completely flat with very little shade.  There was no one around, not even a car passed me!  All of a sudden on the right I saw a road with a barrier and it said “Live Fire”.  I thought to myself,….that is odd, a forest fire?  I don’t see smoke, I don’t smell burning, and I passed the fire trucks, but they were going the opposite direction. 

I guess a real fire would not have been that likely if I had seen Smokey the Bear earlier...... 

A few minutes later I passed another sign, but again, no sign of a fire burning.  Then in the distance I saw what I thought were two tanks.  All of a sudden it vaguely dawned on me that I had seen an area of restricted roads on my Google Maps when looking at my ride for the day.  Sure enough, a few minutes later I saw a sign that confirmed my presence.  I was surrounded by a military base, some sort of training zone.  This wasn’t a small little base, it went on and on for miles, and live fire meant live as in live ammunition, and dud artillery in the field.  I was definitely not going to stop to go to the bathroom here or sit down for a picnic lunch.  I continued pedaling and sure enough I can to the entrance of the military camp with a huge tank on display.  It was a creepy place to be; isolated and desolate. I was hoping these soldiers needed a coffee stop from their tank training and was hoping to see a coffee shop, but there wasn’t anything, not even water to refill my bottle. 

That is a big time tank

Now I get what "Live Fire" means....

By now I was getting thirsty.  I had climbed over the coastal mountain range and I was dropping down into a huge valley in Central California.  The temperature jumped from about 70F (20C) to 95F (35C) in only a few kilometers.  It was HOT! I foolishly only had one little water bottle, and there wasn’t any shade to take refuge.  Even if I did want to stop and rest, well, I didn’t necessarily feel comfortable with all the warnings of ammunition and live firing going on. 

Justin literally saved me with cold water and of course good company

What was I to do?  From the map, I could see I had another 2,5 hours of pedaling through total desert without services. As soon as I exited the base and was on a rural back country road, I started looking for houses.  I had to ride a good hour before finding anything, rationing the water along the way and keeping my mind preoccupied with other thoughts.  Finally I came to a sign for a trailer park on the right and a cluster of 2 or 3 houses on the left.  I chose the cluster of houses.  I shouted out Hello several times until someone finally appeared.  A nice older guy had just woken up form his night shift as a nurse in the town 15 miles away and heard me.  He was loading up on his morning coffee and gave me plenty of water to get hydrated. I got so comfortable; I sat and ate my picnic lunch on his porch while we talked.  He was fascinated by my story and couldn’t believe I had just rolled up.  I was grateful for the endless supply of cold water! Again, people had warned me about going through Death Valley with the high temperatures and now I will take the planning of this section of my route more seriously.  I’ve had hotter temperatures in Malaysia, where that heat was humid, which in my opinion is worse than dry heat, which I will find out west.

I didn't think it was a rattle snake, no rattle...I guess it is just a baby one

Yesterday, all during the same day, I saw my first rattlesnake ever.  It was bathing in the sun.  It was just a baby because there wasn’t a rattle, but that didn’t matter, I HATE SNAKES!!!!  Yet ironically, I’m headed directly towards snake capital of The States: Canyon land in Arizona and Utah.  I’m going to have to get tougher-or get a gun!  Yikes, the true American in me is starting to come out!