Tomales to Sausalito
Somehow I survive the night. Barn owls I know. Black tailed deer I know. But let me tell you, I heard the scariest screaching-grinding cry ever. I imagine the creature coming over and gobbling me whole. I devise a plan how I’ll defend myself. Meanwhile, the barn owls keep circling. Let me be clear, I’ve slept better. Dang, never had this much drama on the Pacific Crest Trail. Dang towns.
So I’m up and out early. Up and out early to the coffee shop which by a stroke of luck is open. Where they have a bathroom. Because yo, I gots to shit. I’ve been holding it all night. And then because this is my vacation I sit for an hour and write my journal and drink coffee.
I got some miles to make so I roll out at 9am. It’s like I’m on drugs. I’m high. I’m low. I go up. I go down. The terrain can’t make up its mind and it’s hard to find a rhythm. Just before 11am, there’s a climb. My body is like, wtf which way are we going now? Quickly my arms glissen with sweat. I crank the pedals with all my might. The eyebrow’s ability to catch sweat reaches its maximum and it cascades into my eyes and it stings. I almost can’t see. Is it hot out? Or is my body just really bad at this climbing thing? I play it through in my mind.
I look for a spot to take a break but there are none with shade and safety from traffic. I’m starving hungry and eventually stop at a rocky turnout puting my bike between me and the racing traffic. Nothing is stopping me from getting comfortable and I erect my 2 lb. luxury chair. I eat lunch in style, trying to pump myself up for the next push. Spandex cyclists pass without even a glance.
Samuel P Taylor state park is absolute bliss. Tall, creaking redwoods and a bike path away from the road. I daydream of camping there. But I have made plans at a warm showers host in Sausalito so I push on. I reach Lagunitas and I’ve had it with this road and these cars. I notice a bus stop across the street so I check it out. The bus comes in 15 minutes and takes me to Fairfax. I skip 5 miles or whatever. But it gives me the strength to go forward. I roll through the land of rich people, climb the hills of Mill Valley and eventually arrive along the edge of San Francisco Bay. In Sausalito, I treat myself to dinner at Bar Bocce. Right on the water, bocce players for entertainment and beer and pizza to consume. It’s expensive but I tell myself I deserve it.
I make my way to warm showers host Winnie which is a climb. It’s so steep that I walk my bike up and up and up. I know it’s worth it. There’s epic views when you go up. I arrive and she’s fixing dinner. There’s two others cyclists there too. Oh, and do you want some wine? Yes. This is why I climbed seemingly all day. The wind is howling and the fog is rolling in but it’s epic beautiful. There’s a beautiful buck nestled in the yard. We share stories over dinner. These are amazing people. My spirits buoy. And then I take a warm shower.