Mountain to the Sea

Mountain to Sea:  Sunday, April 14, 2013

Another night of little sleep--too anxious to get up and get going. And the fact that I’ve been accustomed to desert heat for so many years that the nippy mountain air at 37 deg F definitely had me trying to find positions to conserve body heat while stretching my worn out legs at the same time.

So, I almost leapt out of bed at 5:50 am and was ready to roll down the hill at 7:00. I cycled old hwy 80 most of the way down the mountain but I used I-8 for about 13 miles. These were about the scariest miles of my life. Very busy interstate, deep gorges and overpasses with wind whipping through them, and me trying to slow down the descent. The rubber on each shoe has been worn off by a few centimeters. Or more. I use one heel at a time to provide a bit of friction so I don’t wear out the more pricey disc brakes. I still pump the brakes but try not to “ride” them. Once I reached Alpine, I was back on the old hwy and side roads. By Santee, I was hitting uphills again and the way remained hilly all the way to the coast. 

And, I was wrong. (This is a fairly common problem. But that is ok. I like to learn, so I take gentle correction well.)This was the Laguna Mountain. The Sierras are just a bit more north. Makes sense. I saw lots of oak trees and lots of rock. But relatively little pine and cedar. 

Alpine is this quaint, quirky mountain village. This day, there seemed to be some sort of faire or farmers’ and craft market, so there were homemade crafts, foods, etc for sale under canopies and set out on tables in front of these adorable shops. If I wasn’t on a time schedule for the day, I would have loved to linger and meander around the town. There is quite a range of architecture to observe in the shops and motels and homes. The whole of Alpine is built on a slope halfway up the mountain. I imagine the townsfolk have some serious musculature on their legs! I also loved the clothing styles of the people in these Californian mountain or hill folk. Some are dressed in simple hiking/walking gear; others in that hippie/gypsy look I adore. Right now, I have only cycling/sports gear with me, so my fashion is simply NOT. 

In Santee and Lakeside, on the other side of I-8 and closer to the bottom of the mountain, on the outskirts of town, you can see mini-farms and gardens and happy cows and horses. In one field, the cows and ostriches were sharing a green field. In the barn I could hear peacocks. It was a cool little area with rundown homes but friendly critters who sometimes come to the fence to say hi. They are probably hoping I am carrying an apple with me. 

Hitting San Diego, I was routed through Mission Gorge---some hills there, lemme tell ya! At one point, while climbing a long slow hill (well, the hill wasn’t slow, but HD and I sure were trudging at an ant’s pace) I saw something out of the corner of my eyes on the hill to the left. I turned my head to look and there were two (I thought) people in black hoodies running down the hillside, ducking behind bushes. When I looked again, I saw only one, crouching down, half hidden by a bush, several hundred feet away. I kept peddling. When I stole one more glance, the hooded person was half standing, looking straight at me. My heart skipped a beat, or maybe two. He may have been a teenager playing games, someone running from someone else--or the law, or who knows what. That was a mini-adventure. He could have caught up to me, but he made no attempt to do so. He probably realized I was no catch and no threat. I finally cycled to the top and over the hill for another descent to wear out another cm of shoe rubber.

The marine layer was thick and, as I neared the coast, a light sprinkling mist was noted. After all those days in the desert, the mist was quite a change. My skin is dried out and thirsty, so I was grateful for the moisture. Although a bit cold. But, after a week or so of coastal riding, I will get used to the cooler air.

A few times in San Diego, I got a little turned around. The drivers were respectful of the cycle and I received several happy waves and friendly honks. Only one honked to tell me to get out of the way, but I was being a good driver and doing my best to accomodate those in motorized vehicles. Even that honk was more like a “toot” than a “BEEP”, if you know what I mean. Like a polite, “Scoot over please, I’m right behind you and want to take this onramp to the freeway”. To get to my sister Shannon’s house, I had to get back on the freeway, but for just a few miles. That was the “5”, or the Pacific Coast Highway. It was dark by then, so I had my lights on. Again, no problems from the cars and trucks zipping past. 

I arrived in the dark, with a dead cell phone. Thank Gaia that my two Shannons were out walking LouDog. (Sister and daughter) I could spot his spots even in the dark, so I caught up with them and, after hugs and kisses were shared, they showed me our destination.

Shannon Sr heated up some black beans and Shannon Jr helped make a salad. I had a huge black bean burrito on a brown rice flour tortilla and a great salad. I haven’t eaten a burrito in a long, long time. I was stuffed but it was so very, very good! I went to bed, thinking, “What have I done?” But another episode of Bomb Girls got my mind over the bulge in my tummy...

It was also wonderful to sleep on a nice bed. My shoulders didn’t dig into the ground and every position I turned was comfortable. I’ve been having leg aches at night, and this night was no different. Shannon and her husband Jim are fine hosts. They gave us the master bedroom with a private bathroom. 

Their home is decorated with superb taste. My sister has an artist’s eye. She has taken several courses in photography and has done an incredible job with the insightful and tender shots she has taken of grandchildren. She also can choose and frame the photos and hang them perfectly. 

My photos are in the cheap $2 frames I purchased from Wallyworld decades ago. When I get home, it will be time to reconsider my photos and what little I’ve done with them.  This Olympus is the first halfway decent camera I’ve owned. I am not using it to its potential at all as I tend to just turn it on and shoot as I’m cycling by something cool. 

Shannon and Jim, her husband, are such wonderful hosts. I just love them. My sister is vivacious and generous and never has a bad thing to say about anyone. She keeps up with everyone in the family and is a friend to everyone. She is an absolute gem. Jim is easy to talk to and has a great sense of humor and I could have spent hours just hanging with him. They are both beautiful people, inside and out, and I love them dearly.

It was superb to catch glimpses of the ocean yesterday. Cycling through La Jolla, I could see the expanse of blue between several open blocks. I would have loved to linger, drink coffee, and stroll the beach, but it was getting late and I will have plenty of time to see the ocean over the next few weeks. 

The interesting people? To tell you the truth, I didn’t stay put long enough to actually talk to anyone. The two cute young boys working at Starbucks on Torrey Pines Bvd were friends who would have been fun to interview and the business was slow on this Sunday night. But I was on a mission. 

The blessing of today. I know it may seem silly or coincidental, and that, it may certainly have been. But, in the morning, I expressed my gratitude to the Source and then asked Mama G for a headwind to slow down my descent from the mountain. I also asked the mountain, with whom I become one as we are all ONE, to hug me close. So. You guessed it, a nice headwind. So, even though my heart was in my throat, I knew I was going to make it. It could have been so much worse. Like, going across that bridge on I-8, with a deep gorge below, and Suicide Hotline messages posted all along the metal fence separating you from a terminal fall---a cross wind would have made it so much worse. Instead, I got a bit of a headwind. I just kept my eyes from looking over the edge, tried to relax my shoulders and the grip on the steering tiller bars, and kept moving forward. I don’t know why I get so nervous with these overpasses and bridges. On the highways, if I have to go over a bridge, I stay in the middle of the road--when traffic is nil, of course. 

It’s about facing your fears. And arriving in one piece! I checked all my parts--all present. No scratches, gashes, cuts, or bruises. Seen, by the naked eye, anyway. WIth the exception of the road wear, which is notable on my face. And the aching in my legs that hits when I am sleeping, or trying to sleep. But, even this is getting less as I get stronger.

Today (Monday), Shannon Jr is trying to figure out if she needs to jet ahead to Los Angeles. She has a backload of business to attend to. I will need to repack and figure out the true essentials of what I need to carry, as the load on HD, and my knees, is pretty substantial when he is fully loaded. I’m doing laundry and gonna see if I can drag Shannon out to a cafe, just cuz. We tend to be in work mode so much of the time. But we love those moments in a restaurant, or sidewalk cafe, or taking a hike. We also like to go shopping. But I don’t have room for anything else in the cargo hold and it is not time to shop. That will be for a different adventure. Not this one. 

So, here is to The Adventure. Yours and Mine.

What Do You Love?