Stage 1: California

Big Sur

PCH near Half Moon Bay

Above the clouds at the top of Big Sur

Big Sur.

I'm sitting in my cousins apartment in San Diego, attempting to reflect on the past two weeks, but I'm distracted. The landscapers go about the edges between concrete and non-native grasses, the man across the way has the television on Fox news and it's so loud I can hear the words on the ticker at the bottom of the screen, the neighbors eye me and my appearance is a bit too disheveled for their tastes. The perception of reality is a funny thing, at best.

I have resumed my life's ambition (thus far) to cycle to the End of the Earth in Tierra Del Fuego, Argentina. I left from my parents house in Sattley, California where I plunged over the Sierras on a long, rain soaked October 10th. To be back on the road is a relief I still don't have words for, so a satisfied smile will need to suffice. I have been agonizing and driving myself mad since July 3, 2010, when I had a freak fall from my bike and was forced to face reality and come home after only a few days. That wound is slowly closing, yet still nagging as to not forget how easy it can all disappear.
It feels more comfortable living this way again with every pedal stroke south.

I am not 23 anymore. I always used to laugh when the doctors told me skateboarding and snowboarding would catch up to me later in life. I have discovered ibuprofen is your friend and that I need to move a little slower with a loaded bike. Not that it's a bad thing, it's good to be forced to slow down and enjoy what's around you a bit more thoroughly.

To tell you the truth, the past two weeks through California have felt more like a vacation than an adventure so far. The adventure highlights include a three legged half tailed raccoon who was trying to pull a candy bar from my pillow, having to ride about 10 miles down the I-5 because it's safer than not wearing a helmet on a military base, riding through South Central LA and Compton in a full spandex roadie kit, and bombing down the Yuba pass in a sleet storm.

I have had the pleasure of visiting with so many old friends, and making a lot of new ones along the way.

My old buddy Joe just moved home from Hawaii, and he was nice enough to ride with me from Yuba Pass to Downieville on the first day. Yes, it was very wet. Joe is the most stoked human on Earth at any given time. Thankfully, he has put this energy into positive things.

Sean and Nick were rad enough to let me hang out in San Francisco at their pad.  An insane DIY warehouse that is eye opening to say the least.  Used to live/Pal around with these crazies in Southern California.  Good dudes!

Ben and Elissa took me in in Santa Cruz. Their back porch has the best ocean view ever.  They are by far, the best WarmShowers people I've ever encountered.  They are my kind of people, through and through.  Someday I will aspire to their outdoor coupleness.  Yeah, I just made that word up.  Ben's bluegrass band is awesome, check them out at http://thebluetailflies.com/?section=home   

Matt is one of my bestfriends of all time.  It was awesome seeing him and his fiance Molly in Monterey.  They have two cat children, and somebodies face got ripped soon after this shot.

Matt and Lawnmower cat checking out his roadside purchase.



Steven and Mia.  Steve is another one of those great friends that no matter how long you've been apart, you always are on the same page.  I spent a few days with him in Silver Lake.

I some how didn't get any pictures of Mike and Erica, probably because they film EVERY THING YOU DO, but I had a great time with them, I got to watch For Thousands Of Miles for the first time, and we also got to go shoot the final shot of the film near Point Magu.  Thanks for the glucosamine.

Sometimes you gotta take the tracks.

Elephant seals.

Bike Maintenance.

Things are about to become very real. 22.3 miles to the south of where I sit is the border of the United States and Mexico.  I'm spending a few days in San Diego just to make sure I have everything that I need before I plunge over the border. 
I am excited, to say the least, that this imaginary line that has been looming in the back of my mind is about to manifest itself in forms I have no control over, in foreign tongues and customs familiar and distant all the same time. 
Vacation's over. Put your head down, grind it out, and smile.