Westport to Galway

A day for recuperation before leaving tomorrow. Today was an opportunity for sightseeing in this beautiful vibrant city. The west side has boat quays, stranded walks with seascapes looking to County Clare and the Burran. This is where the River Corrib joins Galway Bay and the Atlantic Ocean.

River walks bring you to Galway Cathedral, quirky narrow streets in town packed with quality shops, interesting bars and fun places at Salthill just out of town make Galway a very special place. 

Staying again at Kinlay Hostel and preparing for my journey home tomorrow ended an adventure in the West of Ireland not to be forgotten.

Leaving Port Finn Lodge, I cycled a couple of miles back to "The Rock" visiting my cousin Maureen and her husband Clive. Both make me so welcome when I visit. 

Saying goodbye for now and moving on towards Clifden, my thoughts went back to years gone by when our families regularly holidayed at the Old Rock Bar, home of Moddie and Pop our grandparents - happy days!

Climbing the steady hill out of Leenane, passing Leenane Hotel on my left and the factory fishing to my right on Killary Harbour, in a short time I reached Creagh and the beautiful church of Our Lady of the Wayside. I rested here entering the church by a side door. 

Moving on, passing Kylemore Lake through the mountains and Kylemore Abbey, formerly a convent school, and built in the 19th century by an Englishman from Macclefield for his wife's home, I soon arrived in Letterfrack and it was time for lunch, necessary to get me over the mountainous moorland into Clifden. 

On arrival in Clifden, after booking into the Lamplight Rooms, I showered and walked down to Lighthouse Cottages. Here I was treated to a great welcome by Dominic and Carol, had a roast dinner to write home about, and we walked back up to the village to witness the grand Village March Past bringing to an end Clifden's Art Festival. We finished the evening over a couple of pints of Guinness in the local pub; a lovely evening in great company, thank-you both. 26 miles today.

Leaving Westport around midday, I chanced on a pedestrian/cycling access to Westport House and Park, a must see, now opened to the general public. Before leaving Westport, I also paid a lovely visit to my cousin Genevieve in Sandlands.

Riding on I made good time to Louisburg, passing Clew Bay and it's 365 islands on my right and also the magnificent Croagh Patrick range to my left. I knew the route well, but missed the sign to Leenane, whilst following the road to an undulating and mainly downward route to the Silver Strand, (white sands beach) on the wild Atlantic where I realised my mistake. I had ridden a good 5 miles to a dead end. Perplexed I rode the uphill 5 miles to get back on route to Leenane. It was now 5 o'clock and I was concerned I might lose light. Through the mountains to Doulough, following the north side of the Killary Harbour, then passing Aasleagh Falls leaving Mayo into County Galway I passed the land willed to us by our Grandad, then the Rock to my overnight stop just beyond the tiny village of Leenane.

A short spell in bed to recuperate from a hard day's riding, and an excellent meal at the Leenane Hotel ended my day - 49 miles.

Sailing at 0215hrs I settled into my bunk and enjoyed a generous 2 hours sleep in a 1 bed cabin. Arriving in Dublin around 0600hrs I cycled my way across Dublin City Centre to Heuston Station, approximately 4 miles. Cycling out of Dublin Port is a challenge, especially now major development work has transformed the geography of this very busy port. 

Following the well marked cycle route alongside the River Liffey is always a joy as I entered real Ireland. Joining the train at 0735hrs, and arriving in Westport around 1015hrs to a chorus of heavyish rain I made my way to the Old Mill Hostel - a lovely basic place in the centre of town. The rest of the day I spent around the town, visiting the place my mother lived into her teens and where my roots started in Bridge Street, before the family moved out into the countryside at the Rock Bar near Leenane.

My first day in Ireland ended in the Porter House Bar, Guinness, music and song by a guitar and penny whistle, accompanied by a very active audience and a couple of local lads taking to the floor showing off their amazing Irish dancing skills to an appreciative packed bar.

Leaving Balbriggan on the Coast Rd after a very good breakfast I was well set up for the day ahead. Being a coast road I was expecting heavy traffic and got plenty. Passing Colt Island, St Patrick's Island and Shenicks Island I detoured off my route to see Loughshinney, a pretty little village placed by the sea at the bottom of a 1 mile hill. I gambled on there being a way out along the coast towards Rush but there wasn't so I returned back to my route telling myself that the uphill grind was worth the effort to see this beauty spot. Rush is an interesting little town with a lurid history of shipwrecks and piracy. In the 1600's, myth tells of fires being lit to lure ships onto the rocks and certain disaster. I was told the story from a local, "A child who was the sole survivor of a wrecked ship was reared by the pirates of Rush that caused his parents death. That child went on to murder the felons, his adopted parents, on finding out the truth."

The coast approaching Dublin is peppered with small Loughs meaning these pinch points concentrate the road traffic making cycling a little bit scary. Rush, Lush and Swords are such places. After Swords I was able to get back to the coast at Malahide, then after passing Portmarnock I crossed the causeway to Howth - that's the big island that you pass on the way into Dublin Ferryport. I have now assuaged my curiosity after years of wondering what the place is. From the end of the quay there you can see a smaller island, its name, Ireland's Eye.

Moving on I rode the last 14 or so kilometres into Dublin Ferryport, Terminal 2 riding on a cycle path, facing a wall of commuting cyclists coming in the opposite direction. I survived and I am now sitting in the check in area at the Port. I will take the night Stennaline Ferry to Holyhead which doesn't board for another two and a half hours so I have got plenty of time to reflect on five days of great cycling. The weather has been sunny all week with a following wind. You couldn't ask for more!!

Leaving Clogherhead today I was leaving friends behind; Steve and Lois who gave me accommodation last night - to be remembered!

A short steepish climb out of town and an equally steep drop through this small seaside town got my blood coursing through my body and soon I was leaving Terminfeckin Beach behind me.

I stayed on the R167, then took the minor road along the banks of the River Boyne, scene of the famous battle. Here I would pass from County Louth to County Meath at Drogheda, a nice old town that clearly had seen better days. Turning a sharp left I was now riding the southern bank of this famous river, hugging the coast wherever possible. Mornington, Bettystown soon came and went as I followed the eastern seaboard of this historic part of Ireland. I turned inland to Laytown then followed the R132, SW through Mosney Cross then over Delvin Bridge where I passed from County Meath to County Dublin soon arriving at my overnight in the Lark Hotel at Ballybriggan. 

Just 25 miles left to journey's end at Dublin Ferryport tomorrow.

Believe me, the cycling is the easy bit. Travelling on a bike not knowing how far you will get means you can't book ahead. The difficult bit is finding accommodation at the end of a hard day. Yesterday evening I arrived in the bustling large town of Dundalk. After an hour of blindly seeking accommodation I arrived at a B&B with no proprietor, just a telephone number to ring. After a number of failures I eventually got through to a very nice lady who could offer accommodation. By this time two guys had arrived and I was able to get them into the same B&B. The place was about 4 miles away. They offered to load my bike into their vehicle, a game changer. The B&B was excellent at Lynolan House, in Heynestown. 

As I had made good progress for day 1 and 2 today was going to be short. Leaving Lynolan House. I made my way out to Blackrock a small tourist resort, moving on I took a lovely route through Castlebellingham, Annagassan for lunch then taking a remote road out to Dansay Point and Clogherhead. I met Steve and Lois in the town, and I asked them if they knew of any nearby accommodation. They kindly asked me to stay at their house. We ate in, then spent a pleasant evening chatting over a couple of Guinesses at their local pub. I can't thank them enough for their kindness and hospitality.

An easy day just 24 miles done. 

By 7.15 am this morning I was riding out of Belfast Port picking my way through acres of Port properties. I was soon out on my route passing Harland & Wolff, and George Best, Belfast Airport onto the Mourne Coastal Route passing a military base as I entered the town of Holywood where I got breakfast. Moving on I passed through Bangor and a series of small coastal towns, Helen's Bay, Donaghadee, hugging the coast through Ballywalter, Ballyhalbert, Cloghy, then Ballyquintin Point arriving at Portaferry for the 5pm ferry over to Strangford. 

With little chance of getting accommodation here I left on the A2 towards Kilclief. After several miles of fruitless enquiries for accommodation a stroke of luck brought me to Beach House, a small beautifully renovated 17th century cottage by the edge of the sea. Danny my host living in a separate larger property nearby kindly offered me a barbecued evening meal of chicken salad. I soon "turned in", reflecting on a wonderful days cycling under blue, sunny skies enjoying the luxury of a strong following wind. 60 miles done!

Cycling the lanes and byeways of Norfolk

Leaving the Youth Hostel at 10am, with a quick look at the raging North Sea, I moved on out of town up a steep hill called Beeston Bump, then descended on a track to and crossing the North Norfolk Railway line. I climbed gradually then steeply on a footpath up to Beaston Regis Heath but despite my route planner loaded with a GPX file of the Rebellion Way, navigation was really difficult as it appeared that each of the hundreds of dogs in the locality had it's own personal footpath. Eventually leaving the wooded heath at Beacon Hill, 103m altitude,  the route crossed a busy road into Felbrigg Park, with a beautiful manor house.

At Felbrigg, a short snack break, took me onto a lengthy farm track around around fields emerging at Metton. Here I came across a father and son team taking a sneaky rest. The father, Martin counselled his son about the importance of doing a further 90 miles that day before tea, all the way to Diss. The villages here are beautiful, houses built in traditional brick and flint stile, and the lanes interspersed with field tracks are magical and unbelievably quiet. I moved on through Sustead,  Aldborough, Erpingham, Calthorpe, Itteringham, Blickling arriving at Aylesham where I joined a path alongside the Bure Valley, narrow gauge railway, to Hoveton and Wroxham, ten miles on, both busy Norfolk Broads villages teeming with tourists and chip shops. Leaving through a boat yard at Wroxham I was soon riding yet another peaceful field track, then back onto lanes through Painsworth, Little Plumstead, Great Plumstead and a place aptly called Heartsease as I entered the environs of Norwich. 

My journey almost over I decided to take a break at a Subway Cafe. On leaving the cafe a 'sting in the tail' meant my two back-up batteries driving my smartphone mapping app had both expired. Basically I hadn't got a clue where my car was parked as the address of Barry's friend Morris's Commercial Hotel was stored in my now dead smartphone. No other choice, I asked a gentleman passing by if he knew a Tesco Express store a couple of hundreds of yards from where my car was parked. I tried to describe the location  without success, I told him my story and he suggested I came to his house nearby and charge my phone up. Time marches on, it was now 10pm so my new friend Frederico de Lemos kindly ran me to my car, now that I had accessed the address. 

In double quick time I had picked my car up and was following him back to pick my bike up. Thanking him sincerely for getting me out of trouble I waved to Fred and his lovely wife as I headed of to the A11 and home. A two hour nap in a layby on the A13 ensured I arrived in Audley, safely, by 5.30 am. A cup of tea, two rounds of toast and marmalade, I then slept till midday. The end of a fantastic cycling adventure with Barry!

Norfolk is a county with many facets, big sky, beautiful villages, forest tracks, heathland, beaches and the famous Norfolk Broads, Priories, places of Pilgrimage (at Walsingham Abbey), monasteries, castles and much more - and of course the Rebellion Way.

Leaving our accommodation at Kings Lynn, this morning, a gloomy sky and a  chilly NE wind awaited us. Our priority now was to find breakfast. Arriving in Castle Rising, a beautiful little village about 5 miles from our start, conveniently there was a tearoom already open and serving a variety of breakfasts. Barry and I opted for the large full-English and later I counselled him pointing out that it was not a sin to occasionally tuck into a decent meal, and assured him that by nightfall his belly would be flatter than a pack of Tesco Oatcakes.

Moving on, in short order, we arrived at Sandringham Palace and rode our bikes through the perimeter grounds craning our necks to see if Prince Harry had stayed on for a short Spring break.

We passed through beautiful, ancient flint and brick built villages, Sedgeford, then Heacham and Hunstanton. Here we had our first views of the sea at the Wash - this was where King John, in centuries past, lost a huge hoard of gold from his pony and trap as well as half his army, as he attempted to cross under the cover of darkness and low tide. Old Hunstanton was our lunch in a small beach cafe. At Ringstead our route turned us onto a long, straight, unclassified Roman Road. Good pace and a keen hunger brought us to Burnham Market for an unscheduled stop with tea and cakes. Onward to Holcombe Hall we followed Cycle Route 1, through its magnificent  grounds, leaving the Estate via it's rear entrance taking us to Wells next the Sea and then onto a tricky, hilly 6 mile route to our overnight at Walsingham Priory. 

Just arriving before tea finished we downed a delicious dinner of jacket potatoes, peas, smoked cooked ham, garnished with mushrooms and grilled tomato. Ending the day in the Globe Inn in the village. Turning in I slept like the dead after a wonderful but tough day "a-wheel".

Our rooms last night were in well equipped cabins to the rear of the Inn. A sitting room and diner kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs made for a very comfortable stay, a snip at £115. A classic English breakfast set us up for the day, and we left Hillsborough under an overcast sky, with the forecast NE wind which followed us yesterday was now a headwind bringing an uncomfortable chilly start. 

Rejoining our route, in short order another layer of clothes was added to keep out a bitter chill. Passing Lowden and after several miles of pleasant cycling despite the headwind, we arrived at the town of Swaffham. A short break in a small café brought for tea and toast, then moving on through miles of agricultural land under a big sky. Turning down a narrow lane, we approached the beautiful village of Castle Acre. Barry commented, "Well we won't meet many cars down here". His words still hanging in the air, we met a car reversing towards us. With no where to turn, and barely room for us to squeeze past, the driver warned us of a wide and deep ford ahead. We were about to meet the river Nar. Thankfully, a small side bridge meant we crossed easily, another good reason for riding a bike. Resting for a while we chatted to a man and his dog. He filled us in on the history of the locality. Across a field we saw  the magnificent remains of Cluniac Priory, one of a chain of monasteries built in medieval Britain. Following the River Nar we entered the town gates of this beautiful place. Our route then brought us past the remains of a massive motte-bailey castle on the outskirts. Castle Acre is a unique small town and a 'must see'!

Moving on, we followed 5 miles of gently climbing straight road, before turning off and travelling a long way down sandy tracks. Riding was difficult, verging on the dangerous, forcing us to walk in a number of places. Our day's end in sight we followed wooded off road tracks into the back of King's Lynn. In the centre of the town we ate a 'gourmet' 8oz sirloin steak, and later, just out of the town centre we checked in at our accommodation, finishing with a pint at the local pub. A very interesting and tough day over, we were soon in the land of nod.

Barry arrived from Essex around 9am and he, Morris and I breakfasted at a local cafe. By 11am Barry and I headed for Norwich railway station the start point for the Rebellion Way, a new designated long distance cycle route exploring the highlights of Norfolk. This 232 mile ride explores the county on a series of quiet country lanes, tracks and paths. 

The route commemorates the savage battles in 60/61 AD of Queen Boudica and her army of the ancient British Iceni tribe against the advancing Roman forces when they invaded Britain. Though unsuccessful she was a formidable force, and it is believed as many as 38,000 died in these battles.

Today's ride took us out of Norwich by Riverside through many beautiful villages. Heading south, with the wind behind us, passing Caister, Burston, Wacton Common, Lacton Hall, Boudica, Angles Way, and taking a break in Diss we ate a splendid Meal Deal outside Tesco sitting on some conveniently place bags of compost, peat free of course. Today was a glorious ride on lanes, heathland paths and deep forest tracks. Arriving in Thetford our end point for the day, we thought, to find our accommodation at The Swan was a further 13 miles on in Hilborough!

Shaken but not stirred we laboured on through Thetford Forest arriving at 8.15pm, to our meal of steak pie, mashed potatoes and peas washed down with a pint of good local ale. 64 miles today on a sunny day with a spring chill early on.

Leaving Audley around 12.30pm I drove the 130 ml journey to Norwich arriving in Norwich around 5.30pm.

Barry, my ride buddy for the week, arranged for us to park our cars at the house of an old friend, Morris, a great and welcoming chap. 

Arrandale Lodge, a super commercial hotel, was my bed for the night.

My journey over, today has given me time for reflection on my experiences over the past 6 weeks. I have been casting my mind back to so many amazing places, spectacular scenery and generous and friendly people. I will remember them and they me for a short while, but time goes on. So I want to thank those people who helped me along the way before they forget me.

My time here has been special but I can't wait to get home to my family and friends. I want to thank them too for supporting me, following my blog, and messaging me. It has made all the difference. If you've messaged me and I have not replied, I apologise. I have many messages in my draft file and will resend the replies, so if you get some twice put it down to technology!

I've packed my bike and panniers and will fly back to the UK tomorrow at 7pm. Thank you for sharing in my adventure here.

Back in 2004, I started to ride the Adventure Cycling route known as the Southern Tier - California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Florida. Over time I have ridden all four sides of the US so it was important to me that I should end this ride at the same place, Ocean Beach, that I started from.

Rhyss, who I met yesterday, joined me on the short ride today. Almost all of the trip was on the San Diego River Cycleway. Riding past Dog's Beach instantly brought back memories of the start on 20th March 2004 - back then music was emanating from a wedding party across on the other side of the San Diego River. Moving on we soon arrived at the spot I had set off from 18 years ago. Rhyss took a few shots while I posed for the camera, making sure he'd got my good side. That was it really, the "Nation was Framed" and I had come to "Journey's End". A touching moment really. I recalled the holiday Marg, Jenny and I had with Tom in Rochester, before I flew on to San Diego to start that first ride. Hiring a big van to take my bike to the airport, with Tom following behind in his car with Marg and Jenny leaving in the small hours of the morning to get to Rochester Airport. Leaving Rochester with a foot of snow on the ground arriving in San Diego in sweltering heat. Happy days! 

Leaving San Clemente, passing over Interstate 5 just out of town, I joined a dedicated cycle trail passing San Odere State Beach, a surfers' paradise, and home to the Surfing World Championships. Already young folk were making their way to the beach, many riding bikes with their surf boards strapped to them. A few miles on, the path narrowed and passed San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant, the route taking the old Pacific Highway right alongside Interstate 5, with heavy with lorry traffic and cars. The cycle route took a whole lane width and was peaceful despite the raging traffic over to my left. Occasionally I would be passed by a biking surfer or someone taking their morning burn up, heads down. At about 10 miles, I rode by a barriered entrance into Camp Pendleton Marine Corps Reservation, much of it being San Onofre Mountain at 1723 ft. By now Miguel, a cyclist had pulled alongside me and we rode and chatted together. Riding on flat road this made for easy cycling. We arrived at a military road-block and were told we would be held for 15 minutes as some testing was going on down the road. We chatted to the two marines there, taking photos. 

Moving on down the road. we came to what appeared to be a remote controlled tank under test by a group of soldiers. We were flagged through and after a couple of miles, my friend parted company and turned back and I turned under Interstate 5 and rode up the entry ramp, legally this time, to join the motoring mayhem, separated only by riding on the inside of a 10ft shoulder. At 7 miles I turned off the Interstate into Oceanside, pop. 167,000 merging into Carlsbad pop. 106,000 both very affluent holiday and residential communities. Encinitas, pop. 59,000 came soon followed by Cardiff by the Sea, Solana Beach and Del Mar all upmarket holiday locations with stunning ocean views and amazing beaches. I pulled over at Del Mar and chatted to a group of cyclists. Next came Torrey Pines State Reserve, which brought a shock when I climbed the only serious hill of the day bringing me over a headland into San Diego city environs. Road traffic here was very busy but happily the remaining route from here turned into a series of good cycle tracks bringing me to my Motel 6, at Hotel Circle. I'm booked in here till my flight on Sunday. and a nearby cycle shop will provide boxes to load my bike onto the plane.

But before that, tomorrow, I will complete the final 5 miles of my ride with a visit to Ocean Beach - the point where I started my first coast to coast ride in 2004!

Leaving my Motel this morning, I wasn't lost but I didn't know where I was. Matching your location to your route plan isn't as easy as it may appear. I asked an early morning dog walker the directions to Ocean Boulevard and moved on but missed my directional turn and continued on under the freeway, where I rode into a pothole in the road. How I managed not to bite the dust I do not know. A loud bang told me to expect worse and further on up the road I realised my front brake was grabbing badly. Close inspection revealed I'd managed to splay a short section of the front wheel rim. Before my mind had kicked into gear I considered the prospect of riding for two days, over a hundred miles with only a rear brake but I knew I must get this sorted. After riding a couple more miles, very fortunately, I passed Long Beach Bike Shop - not one of those flashy shops, where you have to take out a mortgage just to walk past. Just a no-nonsense bike shop which seemed to have everything you needed, if you could find it!

Paul the mechanic came out to view the damage. He said he could probably straighten things out but knowing the mileage this wheel had done, halfway round the world, I suggested a new wheel would be the best solution. Eventually among millions of wheels we found a front wheel that matched our needs. Bags off, wheel off and Paul was soon onto the case. Shame-faced I decided against a new tyre, tube and rim tape and soon Paul was inflating the tyre. The deal was $127 for a new front wheel and brake pads front and back and in not much time I was back on the road heading for the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). 

Brakes squealing at every set of traffic lights, the breakfast I never had came back into my mind. More luck today - lunchtime brought me to a Denny's restaurant where I partook of the full treatment. Revitalised after the shock of that hole in the road, I moved on past Long Beach, Seal Beach and Sunset Beach, arriving at Huntington Beach in no time. A strong wind from behind outdoes any battery bike on flat roads passing through affluent areas of California.

In no time, I was soon in Laguna Beach, home to Crystal Cove State Park and a series of annoying hills followed - the painful memories of hills I'd passed, echoed in my legs. At Dana Point thankfully the hills ran out and a flattish ride jnto San Clemente ended my day at the Hotel Miramar, a snip at $110. Senior Rate applied!

Tomorrow, I hope to achieve my goal and arrive in San Diego at a Hotel 6, in Mission Valley. I have booked three nights in San Diego giving me plenty of time to sort out bike boxes and packing, for shipping oversize items. 52 miles today means my final 59 miles tomorrow. I can't wait! I haven't seen rain in the 38 days of this trip. Some days, but not many, were dull until lunchtime but even those became sunny in the afternoons. So all in all the hand of good luck has pressed between my shoulder blades. San Diego here I come!

Leaving via Escondido Drive this morning saying farewell to Bob & Liz and Bill was quite sad. People I had made friends with who so kindly got me out of a fix last night. 

Riding the bike was good today, the coast is definitely flattening out here. A short hill brought me back onto Highway 1 to resume my journey. On advice from Bob I managed to avoid a second hill by turning off into a no-entry road which ran behind seafront properties, emerging onto the Pacific Coast Highway in Downtown Malibu. I passed Will Rogers State Beach and joined a cycle path which literally ran for 18 miles along the beach, passing Santa Monica, a modern holiday resort then onto Venice a totally different place - very commercialised but of an earlier era nearer to the turn of the 20th century. A large inlet from the sea, serving a small port, diverted me off the beach path, into the town. I caught up a family, mum and dad and two grown up sons, clearly having a great time touring this central section of the California State. They too were struggling with navigation as I was. We conferred for a while soon getting into a general conversation. It turned out that they were British living in the northwest who used to live in the Crewe/Nantwich area just down the road from me at Audley. We cycled together chatting about our common ground before we parted company at the Doc Wheeler State Beach. They turned back and I moved on passing the Los Angeles International Airport, continuing on this amazing purpose-built concrete cycle track.

The beach is wide here and it was nice just passing through seeing families on the beach and avoiding legions of leisure cyclists, some determined to wipe me out. At one point in particular there were acres of the beach put over to volleyball courts, ready to be played on, but empty. Passing through Manhattan Beach, Hermosa Beach, I eventually emerged at Ridondo Beach taking the road out to Torrance through chaotic traffic. My stop was Motel 6 in the Gardena area of LA. A great day's cycling all round of 45 miles - only 117 miles now to San Diego!

Leaving the Rose Garden Motel this morning by 8.30am I made my way through the city down to Stearn's Wharf to join the cycle path at Cabrillo Boulevard running alongside Highway 101, soon passing Summerland, a small holiday resort. From Carpinteria I made good progress cycling with the ocean by my side and at Ventura I took a break and had lunch. Leaving Ventura I followed an 8 mile straight road eventually bringing me to Port Hueneme, a stunning location. 

Turning inland I followed a road through a Naval Air Station at Point Mugu but then managed to misread my map and I took a wrong route taking me some 3 miles out of my way. With doubt in my mind I managed to wave down a cyclist, Fernando, coming home from his job repairing farm machinery. He pointed out my error and rode back with me directing me onto Highway 1, an act of kindness I really appreciated as he had come away from his route home. In good light I followed a delightful 20 mile route by the ocean, waves crashing in all along the way. As the shadows lengthened, I took out time to fit my lights, but I realised before I would get to Malibu the light would have gone. 

Cycling in the dark, to make matters worse, I found the campsite had shut up shop but while I was still hoping I would find a motel, a car pulled over and Bob and Liz offered me accommodation at their house - we ate dinner together, and I met a good friend of theirs, also called Bill! I can't tell you how much I appreciate their act of kindness because they got me out of a very difficult situation. 75 miles today, although not all of it in the right direction. Tomorrow I hit Santa Monica and LA - the City of Angels here I come!

The Inn at Lompac, my overnight last night, was part motel, and part hostel for farmworkers up from Mexico to work in the fields. I thought it strange when I saw a queue of young men picking up meal boxes at a van outside my door. This morning the same van appeared and the same man was passing food boxes to the queue of young men, so I joined the queue and when I got to the front I offered $10 to the man there but he waved his hand and handed me my box and a roll of flat breads wrapped in foil. Back in my room I found I had a delicious meal of rice and pulled beef. Breakfast over I moved on! 

Once out of the city on Highway 1, I passed through farmland and soon the road turned into a low mountain pass. The riding at first easy became difficult as I began to face a headwind. This persisted for the next 20 miles making what could have been an easy ride very difficult. The valley through the Santa Ynez Mountains was beautiful but the strong wind was a distraction. Eventually, leaving the valley via the Gaviota Canyon, a steep descent, the wind was so turbulent I had to stop in this narrow pass a number of times.  The sides of the canyon rose above in steep vertical cliffs - an amazing place. Soon arriving at the ocean at Gaviota State Park, I was now back riding a stone's throw from the sea. Ten miles on, very tired and hungry, I turned off at El Capitan State Park. A cafe there, Calle Real, gave me all I needed - rest and a chicken salad. Fully refreshed, and 23 more miles under my belt, passing through Galeta, I arrived here in Santa Barbara at The Rose Garden Inn.

A tough day but thanks to my meal around 4pm, I finished strong and in good shape. Another wonderful ride covering 59 miles - pity about that headwind. Just 225 miles to go to San Diego now...!

After last night's fiasco with the tent I started my ride off route at Santa Maria. I decided not to retrace my steps back to Guadalupe but to continue on SR 101. With some difficulty I managed to get back on route at Orcutt and passing through, I joined Highway 1/135, near Vandenberg Air Force Base. This section of the ride was through beautiful agricultural land and vineyards - a fairly easy ride on a well-kept highway. Turning off Highway 135 at "Harris Grade" road I was heading for the mountains. Tired from last night's events, I was forced to walk for approximately 4 miles over the mountain pass, by La Purisima Mission State Historical Monument. Eventually I reached the summit and descended rapidly into Lompoc, pop.42,434. 

Anticipating a further 20 miles today I called into a 7-Eleven as I entered the city's main drag. Hot dog and lemonade recharged my batteries but as I walked away from the store, I realised I had a puncture. Game over for today at just 30 miles. I walked the short distance to the "The Inn of Lompoc", repairing my puncture at leisure in my room (bikes go in your room here in the US!). Tomorrow, I hope to make it to Santa Barbara. I am on schedule, so the loss of the miles today shouldn't be a problem. This place is buried between the Purisima Hills and the Santa Ynez mountains. 

Leaving this super town of Cayucos in good time, I walked a couple of blocks to my breakfast stop, when I saw a small garage, and calling in I asked the mechanic there if he could fix a tent pole I had managed to snap putting my tent away the day before yesterday at Lucia. He did this with great skill and reduced the tent pole length by only about 1.5 inches - no problem, I gave him $10 for his trouble and moved on. 

I passed through Morro Bay, San Luis Obispo, pop.45,119, then Shell Beach, Pismo Beach, and Oceano - all charming little holiday resorts and arrived in Guadalupe looking for accommodation. Despite it being a busy industrial town, showing accommodation on my map, there was none - a lesser man would have wept! I rode out of town, dusk just setting in and looked for a place to camp and found a flat spot by a couple of farm vehicles reasonably positioned on the edge of a field. Against my better judgement I decided to pitch my tent. Suddenly, light gone by now, I was doing it in the dark and a strong wind got up. I got the inner tent erected only to find I couldn't get my pegs into the ground. I contemplated just using my body weight to hold the tent down. This was a ridiculous situation so I had to make a big decision and I reluctantly dismantled the tent and rode a couple of miles back to Guadalupe hoping fate would send me a birthday present. I asked at a roadside cabin set up near a lorry park if they knew if there was accommodation anywhere nearby. They told me the nearest motel would be at Santa Maria 6 miles to the east near Highway 101. I had rejected this idea over an hour earlier when it was daylight. Nonplussed I set off, facing a six mile journey into the unknown. I eventually arrived at a Days Inn after a 71 mile day, my prayer was answered, and here endeth the lesson, being, you are never too old and wise to make big mistakes, even for someone who turned 79 years young today...!

I woke at 6am this morning and since the school bus was due to arrive at the layby, where I pitched my tent last night, I wanted to be decamped and ready to ride as early as possible. Unwashed and unkempt I was away before 8am wishing farewell to my host Diego the young man who runs a roadside mobile cafe parked in the same layby. Diego was very helpful when I put down my tent yesterday, reassuring me that there were no animals, just maybe a few mice or a raccoon knocking round. He told me the farmer up the hill has a dog which keeps bears away. He also kindly gave me water and squash. He is a 22 year-old student up from Mexico for the summer working and will soon be going back to his home country, and university.

From the start the road climbed away, and un-breakfasted, the first 12 miles were tough. I passed Cape San Martin and arrived at the first community in this thinly populated area, picking up a big breakfast at Gorda. I continued along this beautiful coast road, as the climbs and descents continued incessantly. Stopping just before Ragged Point for refreshment the terrain was showing signs of easing and by Point Sierra Nevada I was riding a flat road, passing Piedras Blancas Light Station away to my right. Riding through this beautiful coastal plain alongside the ocean, for 39 miles, with a following wind, was pure joy. Passing San Simeon Village I called in at the Shell Station in Cambria for a box of chicken wings, a few chip wedges and a coffee which spurred me on. These communities all serve the holiday trade along this beautiful coast. Moving on I passed a little community called Harmony, pop.18, a huge Stars and Stripes flag, mounted on a high rocky crag, standing out straight in the high wind - a pretty sight. Soon I arrived at my motel in Cayucos, a fantastic place right  by the ocean. I have a sea view you would kill for again, and managed 62 miles today - my biggest day!

This morning I was riding at 9am making my way down to Fisherman's Wharf, an area of Monterey made famous by the film Forest Gump. It is famous also for the Giant Seals that frequent the harbour in large numbers often languishing on private boats. By the time I had done a bit of sightseeing and had a good breakfast the time was knocking on towards 11am. Moving on I made my way towards Highway 1, passing Carmel-by-the-Sea. I was soon clear of the city area and into pleasant but hilly countryside. Carmel Highlands about 5 miles outside Monterey is a very well-known area occupied by the mega-rich, and it shows! My aim today was to get to the Big Sur and beyond to a tiny place called Lucia where I thought I would get accommodation.  The route was tough, climbs and falls crossing mountain bluffs, but the ocean scenery was just amazing. Sandy beaches and steep sided coves accessible only to seals and seabirds. The road is largely unprotected and riding near to the sheer cliffs is pretty unsettling.

Big Sur is a river and the village sitting by it also takes its name. I took time off my bike here to rest and get lunch. I had been at this restaurant before with my wife Margaret many years ago. Strangely I didn't recognise the place until I had been there a while. From here the road climbed and for me was unrideable. I walked for a couple of miles until the terrain improved and I was able to ride the mountain pass again with roller coaster climbs and falls.  The coastal scenery here, I think is unmatched, anywhere on my route. Arriving at Lucia I soon realised that I had got it wrong - first about the availability of accommodation but also about my timing. I watched the sunset and by 8.15pm I was riding high above the ocean in pitch dark. Bike lights on I was glad to wild camp tonight in a cozy little corner. Another good day reaching my target mileage. The waves are crashing on the rocks below me and, after 57 miles today, a little cricket nearby is giving me a solo performance.

Leaving The Roadhouse Inn, I walked my bike back up the road looking for breakfast. I ate at the Mexican Restaurant last night a pretty good meal so I thought I would try their breakfast. I was soon tucking in to the best breakfast since I arrived here in the US. The "full treatment" that lasted me all day.

Moving on through a tough 7.5 miles took me past Wilder Ranch State Park straight to the environs of Santa Cruz pop.59,946. Avoiding the beach area, I continued on Highway 1 through the city looking for a quick escape. The traffic was heavy and careless! It was a relief to get clear. Continuing on Highway 1 in 3 lanes of heavy traffic, I began to have suspicions I'd repeated the mistake. As the traffic slowed for an upcoming exit road, a friendly fireman hailed me from his shiny fire engine that I was on a Freeway. I thanked him and exited in double quick time. I make no excuses for my error and will probably make an appointment at Specsavers...!

After a chat with a guy at a nearby petrol station, I was back on route. Following Soquel Avenue through Aptos, the route took me briefly to the ocean at Manresa Uplands State Beach on San Andreas Rd, and on into countryside. Soon I was passing through extensive areas of intensively farmed land. The agricultural economy here is feeding much of the world, and the farming is on an industrial scale. Continuing on higgledy piggledy poorly maintained farm roads I met a gentleman from Germany pondering his route. We continued on together for a further 25 miles. This is the first occasion I have cycled any distance with anybody on my trip and I enjoyed his company. Both of us tired, we arrived together at Seaside, the gateway to Monterey. We parted company as I spied a suitable motel and he continued on towards downtown looking for a place of his choice. He, I think was on a business trip, mixing work with a little bit of torture. I don't have his name, but he has my blog, so I hope he contacts me. He was riding over a few days from San Francisco down to Monterey. A great day of 56 miles in total, passing through interesting places, such as Moss Landing pop.300, a busy fishing port, Marina, pop. 19718 and Sand City, pop. 335, unfortunately accompanied by a headwind. 

Leaving my Motel I picked up a sausage and roll, and a cherry pie at the 7-Eleven convenience store, a quick and tasty breakfast. Two difficult hills in the first 5 miles led me to The Tom Lantos Tunnel, a double tunnel with bike lane, sloping downwards, 0.8 miles long. Emerging from the southern end, shaken but not stirred, I glided down to Montara, passing Moss Beach and back to the ocean, bypassing "The Devil's Slide Trail", presumably the old road route. 

My tail up, with the wind behind me, I made good time passing through El Granada, Miramar and arrived at Half Moon Bay ready for an early lunch of toast layered with roast beef, mashed potatoes all covered in gravy. Probably my best square meal in weeks. Continuing on The Cabrillo Highway, I had been warned of steep hills to come. The next 10 miles were a series of mountain bluffs giving me a roller coaster ride I could have done without. Passing San Gregorio State Beach, Pomponio State Beach, Pescadero State Beach, Bean Hollow State Beach, the hills were rolling and easier to ride. All good things come to an end and the last 18 miles were a series of deep creaks involving steep downhills followed by punishing climbs, many of which I partly walked. 

After a great day with perfect riding conditions cool with a following wind, I arrived at my overnight in Davenport. Davenport could be described as a "one horse town" sitting at the top of a steep hill looking over the ocean. Serving a population of 408, there is a Mexican Restaurant, an establishment purporting to specialise in wine tasting, a liquor store, chez moi and pretty much nothing else. The whole place was closed by 9pm. The Inn I am staying in tonight is like something out of a western. A large bar and restaurant on the ground floor and about 10 rooms all leading onto a balcony above, access by an outside set of stairs. The whole building is constructed from wood, a wonderful monument to the past. 51 miles today...!

Leaving the campground this morning, I paid $9 for my overnight to the Camp Ranger, as I had arrived after the camp closed last night. Emerging onto Highway 1, a peloton of cyclists in a race passed me going north. Not sure what it was all about, but it occupied my mind for a fair length of time as the riders returned, passing me as I rode south. After a few miles I pulled over for breakfast at Lagunitas. Continuing on Sir Francis Drake Boulevard into Fairfax a cyclist joined me and we cycled together as he gave me a guided tour through Ross, Kentfield, Larkspur, all affluent areas leading to the Golden Gate Bridge. After we parted company, somehow I found my way onto Highway 101, barred to cyclists, which led straight to the bridge. My mistake, but soon corrected by California police who "blue lighted" me off 101 onto the next access road. When they interviewed me by the roadside, I was exceedingly contrite, and we parted company - an English accent is a useful asset in the US...! With guidance I found the route to Saucilito where I had lunch. 

Moving on, I managed to find the access route to the bridge passing the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. A dead end road allowed cyclists only to pass onto a barriered road leading up to the bridge. Dozens of cyclists were gathered up there, some about to ride the bridge, others just enjoying the occasion. Riding the bridge was a great experience, if a little scary. Dozens of bikes are on the bridge, cycling the narrow side path across the west side, (in both directions!). Coupled with a high wind it was fun! There are a couple of ways off the bridge, one dropping into the Bay area, and the other taking you across the top side of the city along 23rd and 25th Ave to Highway 35 and the ocean. It is 19 years since I was last in San Francisco in 2003 with my wife Margaret and Liam my eldest son, at the start of road trip to Yosemite, and it was great to return - it is a truly iconic city. 

Riding on Highway 35 by the ocean the road climbed past Daly City, pop.101,123. As I continued the climb a heavy fog had drifted in from the coast, typical in the environs of San Francisco. Soon arriving in Pacifica about 8 miles from the Bridge I'd had enough, booking into "America's Best Value Motel". A great and varied day covering 41 miles.

Thanking Sergei and Olga for their hospitality, I left the campsite under a gloomy sky. Riding towards Bodega Bay I was amazed to see lots of people surfing at 10am in the morning, despite the overcast sky. This is a massive surfing location, the waves were huge, and good fun to watch. By Bodega Bay it was time for breakfast and I turned in to the first cafe I saw. Bodega is a thriving holiday resort and turned out to be bigger than expected, pop.1077. Leaving the resort the traffic was frantic, and I was glad to get clear of the area. My route turned inland and the going got tougher. 22 miles of undulating ranch land followed, typical of this part of California, with vast hills of grassland. I passed through Valley Ford, pop.147, and Tomales, pop.204, before arriving at Tomales Bay near Marshal, pop.50. Thankfully, I pulled over here and took a lunch break. Marshal is a pretty, "small town America" place. Tomales Bay is connected to the ocean and is like a vast inland sea with extraordinary channels running through it. Ten miles on the bay ended before Point Reyes Station. 

Following Highway 1 into Olema, and slightly off route, I met a delightful couple and their family of a 13 year old girl and 2 boys. Dad and Mum were able to put me back on route turning me onto Sir Francis Drake Boulevard, a climbing country road, leading to my overnight here in Samuel P. Turner State Park where I am camping tonight. The usual story, sunset arriving, and pitching in the gloamin' alongside 3 tents on the hiker/biker site, but I had the added bonus of seeing Andre, a gentleman from the Netherlands whom I met and chatted with earlier in the day. 56 miles today. As Scott McKenzie sang in 1967, "If you're goin' to San Francisco..." - Yes I am - tomorrow!

Leaving Point Arena behind I was presented with a walking hill straight out of this little town, pop. 449. Getting this initial hurdle out of the way, for most of the day I faced an undulating route of steep downhills followed by climbs. The good news was that if I attacked the downhills with vigour, mostly, I got to the top of the up bit. The sun shone, the air was crisp like a spring day and the cycling was breathtaking high above the ocean. I won't bore you about the views, but they are unbelievable. Leaving my Motel about 9.15am, by 10.30am I was past Anchor Bay and indulging myself in a supplementary breakfast of coffee and lemon drizzle slices, in Gualala, pop.585.

Despite my breakfast being delivered to my room at 8am in a tidy little box the quality was poor, so this early stop was justified. Passing on through Gualala Point Regional Park, leaving Sea Ranch pop.280, behind soon followed by Stewart's Point I noticed the terrain was changing. The hills were longer and winding and the descents were extraordinary, as switchback after switchback delivered me to the bottom of another steep and winding climb. Passing through Kruse Rhododendron State National Reserve, and Fort Ross State Historic Park I arrived at Jenner where I intended to get accommodation. All was booked, no room at the Inn, and the sun was low in the sky and I was faced with moving on 10 miles to Bodego Bay. After approximately 5 miles I was blessed with a site at Wright's Beach, Sonoma Coast State Park just off Route 1. It was full, but a very friendly gentleman and his wife, Sergei, a Software writer for Apple in San Jose and his wife Olga, both from Ukraine, offered to let me pitch my tent next to their RV as their guest. We chatted for a while, shared family interests and I was handed a "shot" of Irish Whisky at their table. I have turned in for the night now. It is 9.30pm and the sound of the waves crashing in the nearby Pacific Ocean are sending me off to the land of nod! 55 miles today...

Camping is great fun, but it is a pain de-camping. Leaving late, now on Highway 1 since yesterday, I passed Cleone and Fort Bragg, in quick time. The roads were busy with no shoulder and despite having super views of the ocean the terrain today has been really tricky. Long climbs and falls with hairpin bends and switchbacks dominated the ride. I think today has been one of the toughest. 

Passing Casper, Mendocino, Little River, the roads got tougher and I constantly had to get off to walk sections which was very tiring. Albion, Elk and Manchester, mostly little holiday settlements, couldn't come and go soon enough and I finally arrived at Point Arena. 

Today camping was off the agenda and I booked into The Wildflower, a boutique motel, whatever that is. I had fish and chips at a Mexican Restaurant and it was soon time to turn in. I'm hoping for an easier road tomorrow. 51 miles today! Sad to hear of the death of Queen Elizabeth.

Leaving the campsite I knew I was in for a tough day. At Leggit, approximately 5 miles from my start, I was presented with a mountain that took me to 610 metres / 2000 feet. Passing me on the road, Carla shouted to me and rode on, saying she was going for the top. Sure enough she was there sitting under a tree when I arrived sometime later. I'd walked most of the 3 miles to the top. Carla rode on after a chat and I followed her on a 10 kilometre / 6 mile descent. My brakes were giving me problems so I pulled over, got some food I was carrying and repaired them. They are fine now. One more high climb and descent brought me to Cape Vizcaino and the Pacific Ocean. Passing through Westport, I picked up food and moved on, heading for tonight's camp. I should make it for 8pm. I am writing the blog from outside Westport Store, thanks to Laylor, the proprieteress and her WiFi.

I will move on now into a beautiful last 15 miles by the ocean. 43 miles a super tough day but without the high temperatures.

Leaving Garberville with only a snack I turned into a Service Station to pick up a good breakfast. Just after leaving however, my GPS dropped into my front wheel breaking a spoke. I lost a spoke about 10 days ago and realised that a second meant trouble. I was assessing the damage when a young couple came over to me enquiring about my problem. I explained I had broken a spoke and Robin was my saviour! He was a cyclist and offered to replace the two spokes and true the wheel. The temperature by now was getting hot. Robin did a fantastic job and I was able to thank them and wish them farewell. Robin and Victoria lived in Berlin and had been visiting family in Arizona and cycled on the Great Divide. They were making their way up to Canada. 

I moved on and soon realised that my encounter with Robin and Victoria was the last good news of the day. By the time I got to Piercy, the temperature was 43C / 110F at 3pm. I gave up and sheltered under a bridge on Highway 101 for 2 hours. I started riding again after 5pm with a number of hills to encounter. Landar a cyclist caught me up as I was walking, he offered to top up my water - a very generous gesture under the circumstances. He carried on and I met him later at the campsite, Standish-Hickey State Park. I pitched my tent just before dark. Landan was bivvying about 14 metres / 40 feet away. The night time 'forest anthem' lulled me to sleep! 25 miles was all I could make today. Camping just $5.

Before leaving today, Labor Day, I needed to get food for my breakfast and the day's journey. I picked up a bowl of potato salad and ham from the deli and a couple of bacon, egg and cheese baps. Most food outlets were closed owing to the holiday. Breakfasting outside the store I noticed a long distance cyclist roll onto the car park, one Carla Arkless. We chatted and it seems this lady is cycling the globe. She has just done 2000km in Canada, is riding through the US and down through Mexico and hopes to make it to South Africa and beyond, and camping along the way to boot! 

I left town before her, but she later caught me up, just before we entered the "Avenue of the Giants". Moving on we rode a short while together and soon she pulled over for refreshments. We parted company but unknown to me she had taken the attached picture of me as I rode on, sending it to me in an email!

The Avenue of the Giants stretches for 25 miles from Stafford to just beyond Phillipsville. It runs for most of its length in close proximity to Highway 101. The likeness ends there. The Avenue of Giants' redwoods are something to behold. It runs through a dense forest of giant redwood trees, along side Eel River, and each complements the other. It is a remote wilderness, shaded and cool. A heavenly place! Occasionally a clearing in the trees told me it was hot outside. In fact in the high heat of the day it was over 38C / 100F. At Myers Flat, I was beginning to flag and turned in at a wayside liquour store. It was quite an experience, an old fashioned place reminiscent of the 1920s. A charming bar lady served me four coca colas whilst I sat for the best part of an hour. Empty at first, a couple of ladies and a gent came in. Music was switched on, transforming the place. After chatting I moved on, later being hailed by them as they passed me on route to LA. From Myers Flat to Miranda the high heat of the day was really testing me out, as the small climbs all day turned to big climbs. Passing Redway, I ended the day here in Garberville - a traditional example of small town America. Eel River is a charming addition to this ride - its waters are clear and inviting. Unfortunately persistent drought here has reduced its width dramatically, exposing sandy beaches along its route. 41 miles today finishing with an overnight in the Humboldt Redwoods Inn.

Leaving the Sea Cliff Motel around 9.15am, I took a steady 2 mile ride into Trinidad looking up "The Eatery" Restaurant recommended by a passerby. This weekend is Labor Day weekend in the US. Labor Day is a major holiday, respecting American workers, and tomorrow, Monday, is the big day. The world and his wife turn out for a celebratory Sunday morning breakfast with their families. Foolishly I got drawn into the whole affair and joined the queue. My name was taken and called after 35 minutes. On being seated I waited a further 15 minutes to have my order taken. 25 minutes later my meal arrived - a mediocre full American. By the time I had eaten up and was on the road it was 11.30am. As you might imagine by this time my appetite had gone, and I was ready to scream. Trinidad for me had been a bad idea and with the bill at $25, it got worse! 

Moving on down Highway 101 I was presented with a steepish hill but from thereon I enjoyed a great day's cycling. Very few hills presented as I steamed on catching up for lost time. Before too long I had passed McKinleyville, and bypassing Arcata arrived in Eureka in quick time. Lunch here topped up my late breakfast. Leaving Eureka and crossing the Elk River, I passed by Loleta and Fernbridge and later Fortuna, Rohnerville, and Alton riding alongside the Eel River eventually crossing it as I arrived in Rio Dell. A strong tailwind made this an uncomfortable crossing. Rio Dell means Eel River. I made this my overnight stop at 47 miles as there is nothing past here apart from wilderness for the next 20 miles. A short day today against my hopes - I suppose punishment for having a "pop" at "The Eatery" in Trinidad!

An early start, I was on the road by 9am. Leaving Crescent City on Highway 101, I passed a dramatic view of the Pacific Ocean. Soon turning inland as the road started to climb I was presented with a steep hill for the next 4.5 miles through Del Norte Coast Redwoods State Park, most of which I walked. Following Redwood Highway into the descent and into Klamath at 20 miles. I crossed the Hoopa River Bridge, and passing the Hoopa Valley Indian Reservation at 25 miles, but soon I was presented with another steep climb taking me into Prairie Creek Redwood State Park and more climbing brought me to Orick, pop.357 at 39 miles. Already tired, I had decide to call it a day here but Orick had other ideas - all 3 motels were closed down - clearly this place had seen better times!

Asking at a wayside cafe whether there was other accommodation here, I was told the next place with motels was Trinidad a further 20.5 miles on. I had no alternative but to continue - a burger, coffee and water and I set off at 5.30pm refreshed. Would it be an easy route - NO! Eventually turning off Highway 101, I followed Patrick's Point Drive with just 7.5 miles to go. By now I had lost light, and with the lights on my bike on, I saw a place with a 'No Vacancies' sign. Undeterred I called in and the proprietor kindly called a neighbour one mile back up the road, who was able to offer me a room. Turning back I was welcomed there by a very pleasant gentleman, Bob. We chatted for some time before I turned in, a little shaken but not stirred. Once again, good fortune had  'saved the bacon' and,,, oh! the Redwood trees were amazing!

Leaving my Motel this morning I was determined to find a breakfast before moving on. With some difficulty I found the D&D cafe hidden behind a row of outlets. I went for an American version of the big breakfast. Getting up at 8.15am today put me on the back foot. It was 10.45am by the time my breakfast was dispatched. Moving on down 101 through Hunter Creek I was soon faced with steep climbs through Cape Sebastian State Scenic Corridor.

Without a doubt the coastal scenery was extraordinary. Huge islands of rock litter this coastline; evidence of volcanic forces in times gone by. The whole of this coast is subject to Tsunamis evidenced by roadside signage warning you when entering or leaving these zones. These signs are all down the coast of Oregon - proof that this area is on the "Ring of Fire". 

Continuing on, the coastal views were only matched by the climbs and falls of this beautiful coastal scenery. I passed Pistol River, Crook Point, and Cape Ferrelo eventually arriving in Brookings, and crossed the bridge over the Chetco River to Harbour. Here I took a break for food, also visiting the AT&T outlet and wasting a good 45 minutes finding out that the lone store manager had no technical knowledge and less product knowledge, telling me he could sell me a mobile phone SIM but couldn't guarantee me getting service despite the fact I would have to pay $65 for the pleasure.

Leaving the store, decision time had arrived - should I quit today at 35 miles, 5pm already, or move on to Crescent City, a further 30 miles - I chose the latter and in just a few miles at Winchuck River I crossed the border from Oregon into California. This was a major milestone!!

From the State border the terrain changed and for the majority of the ride to Crescent City I was off 101, passing through pretty rural communities such as Smith River, then crossing Smith River bridge with the usual "button". Through Fort Dick, arriving at my destination after 56 miles today at the North Coast Motel at Crescent City by 7.45pm. A difficult day through stunning coastal scenery ending in a joyous evening ride, my compensation for today's effort.

I left the Lighthouse Cove Inn this morning under a grey sky, long sleeves staving off a chilly morning, temperature around 15C / 69F. I was pleasantly surprised by the terrain, easy rolling roads brought me to one of Bandon's golf courses. Contemplating the course entry sign, who should roll up but Mark Wang. He and I took pictures of the course entrance and I was able to pass on a picture for Richard Q. who tells me the area is a top centre for golf! 

Moving on, I set off first, passing Langlois, Denmark, Sixes and arriving at Port Orford around 12 noon - 25 miles of relatively easy riding. Too early for lunch, too late for breakfast, I decided to move on. Climbing out of Port Orford was relentless, but after passing awesome views of the ocean the road took a massive descent at Humble County National park, around Humble Mountain. By now my decision to cut on breakfast and lunch began to tell. These 25 miles, with no services were difficult and as I passed by Ophir, Nesika Beach and Wedderburn, still not a crumb!

Finally I crossed the bridge over Rogue River to my stopover at Gold Beach. 56 miles - a great days cycling but a lesson learnt.

Leaving Economy Motel, I climbed out of Reedsport on SR101 picking up breakfast as I topped out the hill. A chilly morning, 15C / 59F, prompted me to change my top for long sleeves. Another tough day in prospect, I was soon in Winchester Bay, passing Umpqua Lighthouse National Park. I rode on, through Oregon Dunes Recreation Area, passing Hauser, then crossing Coos Bay Bridge, not forgetting to press the magic button. I then ascended and descended into North Bend; time for lunch after a strenuous 25 miles. 

As I leave the cafe, there was a shout from a loaded cyclist as he passed me by. Heading on to Cape Arago I caught him up (he'd stopped). It was Mark Wang a fellow long distance cyclist who had started at Seattle and was maybe en route for San Diego. We shared a photograph and moved on. For several miles I followed him at a distance but eventually I caught him up and passed on, down a grueling route on Seven Devils Rd. and W. Beaver Hill Rd. passing vast tracts of burnt out forest. 

At Whiskey Hill Rd, I took the sign to SR101. Unrelenting the route continued hilly to the end. Another tricky bridge crossing and I soon turned off SR101 onto Riverside Drive arriving at Bandon, and booked in at the Lighthouse Cove Inn. A quick shower, and I crossed the road to a supper of fish 'n' chips, with a pint of beer and by 9.30pm I was in bed writing this blog. A great day, overcast and cool, strenuous, but I like it! 53 miles.

Leaving Dublin House, Yachats in a chilling breeze and heavy mist drifting in from the ocean, I soon stopped for breakfast. Moving on in a sombre mood, my exit from Yachets was followed by a punishing uphill route on SR101 to Cape Perpetua, and onward, passing through Searose Beach I was crossing a series of creeks each having a rise followed by a fall. By 15 miles at Aceta Head, I encountered a tunnel. You know the score by now, press the button and tentatively move on. Coming out of the tunnel the road continued to climb and fall for a further 10 miles, occasional viewing points being my only respite. Passing through Heceta Junction, I stopped at Florence for lunch, a beef sandwich with a few frills.

During the next 21 miles through Oregon Dunes Recreational Area I passed by Gardiner and over a series of road bridges over the Umpqua River arriving in Reedsport at the Economy Inn. Today has been a tough 48 miles, the compensation being the splendid views of the ocean as I rode through mainly deep forest for much of the day. The sea mist had cleared by midday, but the temperature maintained a steady 16C / 60F throughout.

Today was easily my best day. Leaving Lincoln City, with the temperature around 16C / 60F despite sunny blue skies, I soon realised I was overdressed wearing a long-sleeved top. After breakfast at the Hilltop Cafe, I changed clothes, donning a wicking body sock and a short-sleeved top and of course my bib-shorts, and I was set up for the day. With mainly flattish roads I was soon leaving behind me Gleneden Beach, Lincoln Beach and Depoe Bay. As I moved on the Pacific Ocean views got better. At first, just glimpses of the ocean but then by Boiler Bay and Otter Rock the panoramic views were breathtaking. At Newport, a bridge crossing over Yaquina Bay required a tentative pressing of a button, triggering flashing lights, warning a bicycle was on the bridge. I moved on past South Beach, Seal Rock, and yes, another bridge crossing (this one with a sidewalk) across Alsea Bay to Waldport, where I took a break, medium sized coffee and a Natural Valley crunchy bar. 

The day was nearly done - only 8 challenging miles left to my stopover at Dublin House Motel in Yachats. The proprietor was of Irish origin, a friendly guy and we chatted for some time. A bear hunter in the winter months, and an Afghanistan war veteran (2 terms) made for a very interesting chat. Kindly he went into his kitchen bringing out a frozen Shrimp Mac and Cheese Bowl and a tin of Rogue Newport Daze IPA - my dinner! 52 miles today in the bank.

Leaving The Red Apple Motel, I decided to stay with SR 101 off the route, passing through beautiful farmland all with a backdrop of high mountains. Flat at first, the road gradually climbed as I passed Hemlock, Beaver, Hebo, and Cloverdale following the Nestucca River Valley, returning to the planned route and the ocean at Oretown. 

Passing Neskowin, the route would take me off SR 101 and onto Old Scenic Highway 101 and this seemed to me to be an unnecessary diversion, so riding back onto SR 101, I carried on. Around the next bend in the road I was presented with a mountain pass I hadn't bargained for. Too late to go back (though I wished I had!), I finished up walking a good 3 miles up the mountain eventually taking a 4 mile descent into Lincoln City. 

I checked in at the Sea Echo Motel at a mere $100 but this was no compensation for the pain I had just put myself through. I will never criticize the Adventure Cycling Association routing and mapping department again !!! 45 miles today...

Happy Birthday, Tony in OZ, Carol in Barcelona, and Danny in Blythe Bridge!!

Leaving Motel 6 at 10am this morning the air was crisp, with the temperature here by the ocean around 16C / 60F. The first 7 miles today were easy on a flat road passing through Ecola State Park, on Highway 101. Gradually the roads became hilly as I passed Canon Beach, and the sea views along my route were stunning. Meanwhile, on my left was a range of mountains above me: Sugarloaf Mtn. 2858 ft. (871m), Onion Peak Mtn. 3064 ft. (933m), and Foley Peak  Mtn. 2051 ft. (625m). On my right were steep cliffs 200ft to the crashing waves below. Climbing to Arch Cape I had to pass through a road tunnel. Instructions before entering the tunnel were "Press the Button" to bring on warning lights advising fellow motorists that a bicycle was in the tunnel did little to settle my apprehension. The tunnel, thankfully, had lights and I progressed through. The noise of traffic in the tunnel can only be imagined. 

Exiting the tunnel the road continued to climb through Manzanita and Nehalem, eventually levelling off at Wheeler, through Manhattan Beach, Rockaway Beach, Garibaldi, and Bay City to my resting place tonight at The Red Apple Motel just south of Tillamook. All are typical American small towns with great character and beautifully backdropped by the magnificent Pacific Ocean. Over 50 miles today ending a splendid day's cycling.

The distance to the Astoria Megler Bridge from my overnight stop at the Hunter's Inn Motel was around 10 miles to the point of entry at Point Ellice. The route to the bridge was forested mainly, with some climbs and beautiful views of the Columbia River as it meets the Pacific Ocean. The Megler Bridge is 4 miles in length and naturally I was a little apprehensive about crossing this high traffic route with only a 3 feet shoulder. Undaunted I entered the bridge. Intense concentration was essential, whilst admiring the scenery was not an option. Progress was steady and without incident. At the two mile point one lane was closed for roadworks. Lonely "Flaggers" controlled the traffic on this section of the road and proved to be my epiphany, as the road here was climbing steeply. I was held while a quarter of a mile of traffic was allowed to pass through. I then had the road to myself, while the drivers at the other control point tapped their fingers on their dashboards as I gradually progressed up the steep incline, while the traffic behind me, also held, was allowed to watch. 

I cleared the bridge arriving at Astoria, not a single car passing me. I took a long lunch break at the first cafe to recover my composure. Moving on along Highway 101, crossing another road bridge brought me to Warrenton. A detour off 101 eventually announced the end of detour then brought me to a Road Closure sign. With difficulty I managed to return to the carriageway of 101. I moved on and eventually arrived at the town of Seaside. Unfortunately I had arrived at this place on the weekend of the Mount Hood to Coast, 190 mile, road relay, with 20,000 entries due to arrive tomorrow, Saturday. Accommodation was virtually sold out, but eventually I found a resting place at Motel 6. Time lost today meant only 35 miles completed. 

A day of two halves today, the early part of the road was fairly flat, the second half very hilly. I left Kelso and was soon riding beside the Columbia River through lovely countryside and following the Lewis and Clark Trail to Stella. Looking across, the Columbia River about a mile wide river I was excited at the prospect of reaching Astoria, Oregon, a new state for me. 

Still making good time I arrived in Cathlamet and was ready for a meal. The heat of the day had by now arrived and I was really tempted to call it a day at 25 miles. I decided to continue, and I moved on taking SR4 to Skamakawa. Still by the Columbia River I pass a series of Islands, Tenasillahe, Marsh Island, Karlson Island, and Russian Island. The terrain had now changed to difficult hill country as I passed Lutes Mountain 1100 ft. (336 metres), and soon scaled  KM Mountain, 2200ft (772 metres). By now my aim today was Naselle and the Hunter's Inn Motel. I arrive at 8.30pm, shattered but relieved after my journey through deep forest. A quick shower, I repaired to the bar for burger, chips and a couple of beers. A good day today - 56 miles. Tomorrow I will cross the Columbia River via a huge road bridge into Astoria, Oregon, Route 101, by the Pacific Ocean.

Waking at 5am this morning I toyed with the idea of de-camping for an early start, but, dispelling that idea in quick time, I returned to sleep! Reawakening at 8am I went looking for the nearby toilet block for a wash and shave but I never did find it. My breakfast was a plated salad gifted to me on my ride in, the previous evening, by the lady at the convenience/petrol station back on the main road. Although jaded in appearance it was a tasty and timely breakfast.

On the road by 10am, leaving Kelso behind I braced myself for another day on hilly roads in high temperatures. At Castle Rock I stopped at a Subway sandwich bar - a tuna mayo half roll and a large diet coke was an excellent lunch. I rested there for well over an hour hoping the searing temperatures of the day would wane, but disappointed, I moved on in the heat along the Old Pacific Highway. For the remainder of the day, I rode through beautiful farmland and forest, the Interstate 5 on my left and the railroad on my right carrying huge freight trains to who knows where. I quit today around 5.30pm with only 35 miles in the bank. Best Western Motels are great but a little expensive at $159.

Following the Chehalis River Valley, the first 20 miles was a breeze, cycling the coolest part of the day - Oakville, Rochester and Grand Mound soon passed into history. From hereon the route became more challenging. At Centralia, I took a break from the sun and packed away a fairly decent Caesar Salad at a roadside bar. Moving on, 'the sting in the tail' arrived as I negotiated a series of steep climbs as I moved onto Centralia Alpha Rd. Logan Hill, Jackson Highway brought me to the Lewis and Clark State Park campsite by 8pm. 

With dusk approaching, I finished pitching my tent in semi-darkness, thanks to my super splendid headlamp. By now it's pitch dark and I ate my supper to the anthem of a couple of owls and a dog barking in the distance. Falling into my tent, I slept the sleep of the righteous, in deep forest, $12 well spent. A great day - 56 miles today. 

Leaving the Admiralty Inn, Bremerton by 8.30am careful navigation and a bit of inside information from a couple of locals soon saw me out of town. I took the decision to enter Highway 3, a 10 mile straight, high traffic, route leaving the Old Belfair Highway out of the equation (a quieter route adding about 5 miles). Arriving at Belfair at the head of Hood Canal I picked up a large lemonade at a roadside shed, continuing on Highway 3. Heavy traffic and those dreaded undulations returning, I had a fairly uncomfortable ride owing to the lack of decent road shoulders. With the heat of the day at its height around 3pm, I pulled over at a petrol/convenience store putting away a breaded chicken slice, large piece of pizza and a coffee, eaten inside the store. 

Moving on I arrived at Shelton, around 4.15pm, and a litre of lemonade, gave me the courage to take on the next 27 miles to Elma, on the River Chehalis, and day's end. The heat of the day had gone as I took on this last section of the ride and a light southerly breeze made it a delight. I arrived in the small town of Elma as the sun set. I must sort out my bike lights. Today's ride was all in spruce forest - 67 miles done - a great day. 

Just one week from leaving the UK a lot of water has gone under the bridge over the Hood Canal. I left the Manor Farm Inn after a substantial breakfast put on by my host Janet, the first she had cooked in her beautiful kitchen for 3 years. She had shown me great kindness by allowing me into her unique and beautiful Inn and for that I am indebted, and to Simone her lovely dog who welcomed me like an old friend. 

Returning to Highway 30 by Big Valley Rd, soon found me on Lofall Rd NE and on to Clear Creek Rd NW bounded by a forested US Naval Reservation. Views were rare over the next 10 or so punishing miles of, you guessed, undulating roads. Eventually arriving in Silverdale, bounded by Dyes inlet and the Hood Canal. The Hood Canal is a major feature of this coastal area which is peppered with inlets and channels. Bremerton, the next town, was where I eventually threw the towel in. The sun was still high in the sky and showed no sign of relenting. Reluctantly l leaned my bike against the wall of the Admiralty Inn whilst I checked-in. The Motel has a magnificent view over Sinclair Inlet and is situated half way up a moderately steep hill. Only a miserly 25 miles today I'm afraid...

From my overnight at the Aladdin Motel, I picked my way through the Marina to the start of the Larry Scott Trail. 6 miles of mainly easy riding made for a good start to the day despite the fine mizzly rain. By the time I passed Fort Hadlock the day was warming up. From hereon the riding got more difficult as steep undulations in the road made for very difficult cycling, and by Port Ludlow and Paradise Bay I'd had enough, so my thoughts turned to the prospect of an early finish. Arriving at the Hood Canal, I steeled myself to cross the bridge. Heavy traffic over the bridge was a distraction from the magnificent views of Hood Canal, easily a mile across. First thoughts were to camp at Kitsap Memorial Park nearby but decided to ride out to Poulsbo to check out the news of Motels there. I could easily get a bed but at $330 I just thought that they were having a laugh. On my return to the Park Area I noticed a sign for the Manor Park Inn, the whole place was shutdown, owing to the pandemic and had never reopened. Talking to the farmhand he gave me a categoric 'no chance'. On leaving the premises the lady owner arrived into the driveway and after a short chat she felt sorry for my plight and agreed for me to stay. So here I am in splendid isolation, in buildings with no other occupants. The owner Janet lives elsewhere and the farmhand seems to be living in one of the outbuildings. A clear case of he who dares wins. If you don't ask you don't get!

I made reference to the ACA in yesterday's entry. The ACA stands for the Adventure Cycling Association of America, a non profit making organisation whose mission is to improve the lot of cyclists. They produce mapping for a variety of routes in the US. Being an inclusive organisation they seem to like to include sections in their mapping that caters for all! So a trip through the Park, whilst attractive to the Sunday cyclist can be an absolute pain to hard core cyclists on a mission. For hard core cyclists, read "billb".... :) With that in mind this morning I chose to ride Highway 20 and cut out a number of miles of ACA frippery. Leaving La Connor, an amazing little town packed with high class craft stores and antique shops, I retraced my tracks back to Highway 20. Highway 20 is a high traffic route through amazing scenery. I set off and from the get go I was aware of the traffic noise which after many miles became a little wearing. Maybe ACA's approach had merit! Onward and upward, I'd made the decision. After approx. 10 miles I passed by Anacortes, looking down on the track I followed at the end of my Northern Tier ride in 2018. I had come home!

Climbing through Deception Pass, I knew I had made the right decision despite riding on sections of the road with little or no shoulder. Views of the sea were spectacular. The road bridge to Whidbey Island was two lanes with no shoulder, so forced me to take the lane to avoid being spread along the bridge side, I crossed, passing from Skagit County to Island County. Moving on along Highway 20, I avoided the Straits of Juan de Fuca in preference for Crescent Harbour and I arrived at Coupville, pop. 1831, a beautiful example of small town America, and one of  the oldest towns in Washington State. Moving on to Port Hadlock I took the 19.30 pm Ferry to Port Townsend. With shadows lengthening I left the port in search of a Motel. Checking out 3 or 4, all with no vacancies I was beginning to panic. My last chance hotel was The Aladdin. The lady on the desk professed no vacancies but started to ring around all the local hotels with no luck! Then to my surprise she agreed to sell me the Manager's Room (there is a God!). I couldn't believe my luck. Nearly unstuck I skipped down the corridor to Room 41. A chicken sandwich and a couple of bottles of Imperial IPA, from the convenience store across the road, put me away. A very happy day! 46 miles plus the ferry trip was a good result.

I made a late start today, leaving the Best Western Motel, Bellingham at 10.45am. following a full breakfast, all in the price. My route took me out of town on the South Bay trail looking out over Bellingham Bay. After a short section of road, I was looking for the Inter Urban Trail at Fairhaven Park, a really bad mapping choice by the ACA. Soon I decided to join the road route on Chuckernut Drive, a forested two lane road with beautiful vistas of the sea below. After steadily climbing for a number of miles I was glad to top out the route and enjoy the descent. Descend it did but in a series of undulations which took away the pleasure of free-fall. The journey took me through wooded fields to Edison, a cute community, typically small town America. A few bars and restaurants seemed to be occupying the entire population of 133. Moving on towards Bay View, pop. 696, I took a wrong road that turned me down a blind peninsular to Samish Island off route, costing me a generous 6 miles return trip. On the way in to Samish Island I took a light lunch by the roadside of yoghurts and fruit borrowed from the morning's breakfast room at the Best Western. The bad news was soon to follow that I had missed my turn and was facing a return journey I could have done without in today's burnishing heat - the price I had to pay for having light fingers. It is true, there is no such thing as a free lunch. More miles in pretty farmland showing off its impending potato harvest, in miles and miles of carefully managed furrows. Fields of flowering potatoes is a pretty sight. I learned later in conversation that in springtime this area is covered with prize winning tulips growing in a very light and fertile soil. A possible source for Britain if Brexit makes tulips from Holland unaffordable. By now the shadows are lengthening and I have no idea where I will be putting my head down for the night. Pondering whether to head off down Highway 20 to Anacortes or sleep in a potato furrow, I learned that 6 miles off route a small town called La Conner abounded with accommodation. I couldn't wait to find out. 

So here I am in La Conner Inn ready to sleep after a pleasant couple of hours over a Caesar Salad and a couple of pints of wheat beer. This little town is a thriving community, in no small part owing to its proximity to Anacortes and to Highway 20 the route to the Islands. A miserly 46 miles put me further in deficit against my target miles though.

Leaving Surrey Motel 6, and after breakfast at Denny's, refreshed I set off on King George Highway for the US Border some 14 miles away, following a route through farms and woodland on Route 99 to the Pacific Coast Canada/US border. I took the opportunity at the Border Restaurant of resting from the sun, taking onboard a large Caesar Salad and a litre of water. Later, I was interviewed by a very polite Border Agent who after a number of pointed questions and a fee of $7 released me into Blaine, a pleasant little seaside town just inside the US. 

My route then took me through stunning scenery by Semiamoo Bay and onto Birch Bay entering Birch Bay State Park. A notice warning the public of the possibility of encountering a cougar (mountain lion) took me back to 2018 in Glacier National Park, some 70 or so miles south of here and I must admit to a slight raising of the hair on the back of my neck and a quickening of my pedal cadence as I moved on. Difficult navigation owing to a guarded closed road, brought to my attention a massive gas storage and pipeline project buried in the forest. I was soon passing Lake Terrel State Game refuge and Lummi Indian Reservation and had my eye on making it to Marrieta Alderwood for accommodation. Asking a local lady, out walking on this quiet forested road, she warned me not to go there as there is a lot of crime around here. Moving on a few miles I stopped to ask directions at a little roadside store the owner insisted on me bringing my bike inside while I made a couple of purchases. She reiterated what I had been told about local crime in the area. Bear in mind this was in beautiful forested countryside, but poverty is endemic in rural America. Clearings with shacks surrounded by beaten up old American cars scattered around and mechanical detritus would be a second hand car salesman's delight back in England. The last 5 or so miles eventually brought me to The Best Western Motel, Bellingham, near Interstate 5, as shadows lengthened in the setting sun. 

A long day, full of surprises and a couple of navigational errors brought to an end an exciting ride! 50 odd miles, today, not all in the right direction....

Leaving Elsje Point today brought a day I thought would never come. I cycled from Vancouver downtown on Cypress St. through urban, suburban then heavily trafficked rural roads following River Rd. alongside the North Arm of Fraser River. Little did I know what was in store: a puncture in my rear tyre. I tried to ignore it at first but as the little bumps got bigger, I spotted a couple of benches and "grasped the nettle" and pulled over. Panniers off, front and rear allowed me to turn the bike on its head and set to work, sweat already trickling into my eyes, a combination of temperature in the 30's and not a little stress is less than ideal in this situation. Soon the pain was over and I was back on the road to face two major river bridges. The first got me to Annacis Island the second, the Alex Fraser Bridge on Annieville Channel got me into big trouble. Sweeping down the access road, somehow, I missed the bicycle access lane and finished up on the main highway to the bridge. I could see where I should be and started chucking my panniers over the barrier knowing, with the weight of my bike, I would struggle lifting my bike over. Then, "lordy, lordy" a loan cyclist appeared on the track. I hailed him and he helped me get the bike over. He shot off and I walked the bridge. My next bit of bad luck was about to appear, Pat, my new mate tapped me on the shoulder. I was blocking the path as I studied the map. Kindly he offered to get me to 84 Ave. a near impossible feat according to my map. I greedily accepted. Soon we found ourselves on a rough path facing a sign saying Railway line do not cross. After lifting the bike over the line it soon became clear that we were, erhm, lost! Pat's local knowledge was clearly flawed, but after some inspired guessing he soon got us back on track.

He'd got to get to his bank and we parted friends forever. I realised that the physical effort of the previous hour had left me exhausted. A well placed shaded bench touched the "spot" and I recuperated sucking the last few drops of supercharged water from my newly acquired thermally insulated drink bottles. Thirty minutes and I moved on finding a Motel 6 on route to the US Border at Peace Portal Drive. 32.5 miles covered today - well short of my daily target.

Departed London Heathrow and arrived safely in Vancouver at the Jericho Beach Hostel! 

2009 Atlantic Coast

2950 miles / 4750 km

2018 NORTHERN TIER

4300 miles / 6920 km