Hello boys and girls! Update number three is comin’ in hot!
Day 14- Too fat to push
After two nights of rest in Petaluma with two wonderful people hosting us, it was time to grab the bags and mount the boards again. When we started to sling our packs over our shoulders and clip them around our waists, we ran into a problem. We all had to loosen our packs because we had eaten waaaay too much. As we pushed along the Lagunitas roadside a man pulled us over eager to show us his art and suggest an awesome rest stop. So we napped and rested in a sick redwood grove only known by the locals. As we pushed closer to San Francisco we were joined by more and more cyclists, one of whom stopped us outside a Safeway and wrote a long email on his iPhone to help spread the word. Mike decided to take a break and hula-hoop with an older woman in the park getting her exercise. The closer to the bridge we got the harder it seemed it was going to be to find a spot to sleep.
Just as we start to get nervous about finding a camping spot, a great guy named Dave offered to let us stay in his house that he was remodeling just north of the Golden Gate… Perfect! So once again we had access to the Olympics and running water.
Day 15- Milk was a bad choice!
We woke up and left our new friend Dave- our bellies full of blueberries and Oreos. We felt like ants as we skated closer to the Golden Gate. As we crossed the bay on the massive structure we dodged hundreds of pedestrians and bicyclists and barely avoided being run over by small vehicles cleaning the bridges sidewalks. After pushing through the city we stopped and ate copious amounts of fruit loops. Feeling sluggish from the lactose, our legs pushed us down the great highway and back onto Highway 1. Just as the sun was making us start to think about a sleeping spot we looked up to a cliffside with a long staircase leading to a seemingly quite bluff. So we walked up the stairs and found ourselves in an abandoned bunker sight full of graffiti. We explored the series of underground rooms and walked to the cliff’s edge and realized we were on the border of San Francisco and totally alone. Even with less than a liter of water for all three of us and the possibility of many miles before the next fill up chance, we decided it was too rare of a spot to leave behind.
Day 16- Fruit stands in the wind
Surviving the drought, we came into the town of Montara and ate decadent sandwiches while talking music with some locals. With some of the flattest terrain we had skated yet, we pumped at high speeds for hours and made great time. We made a quick stop at a fruit stand to juice up, and pushed even faster until we spotted a hostel. Deciding it was too expensive we ventured on until we hit a campsite we paid ten dollars each for, but the free hot showers and talkative Harley riders made the evening well worth the money.
Day 17- Damn you Taco Bell!
A beautiful day of easy flat pushing led us into Santa Cruz where we spotted the first fast food we’d seen for 500 miles. Deciding we couldn’t pass up the cheap option, we ate our fill of processed yumminess and received cramps shortly after. We bought 5 dozen eggs and skated into our friends’ house in Soquel where we feasted, talked, read and shot BB guns at cans for the remainder of the evening.
Day 18- Mikee’s B-day
We woke up and two wonderful girls made a cake for Michael while we made a sixty egg and veggie scramble. We sang happy birthday and spent the morning eating cake and eggs in a circle of chairs in the kitchen, which started the day off wonderfully. Right out of the steep driveway, Mike took a birthday spill and reopened his elbow up a bit. After another five miles he decided one crash wasn’t enough on his birthday so he did it again harder this time. We enjoyed a nice rest by the ocean so Mike could clean his wounds in the salt water before we took off into the darkening sky. The day got cold and windy as we skated closer to Seaside. Before long the wind was making every push half as effective and making it feel colder than McKayla Maroney’s face when she got silver in the vault. After battling a wind that always seemed to blow against us, we were rewarded with warm beds and pizza at Michaels’ cousin’s house.
So as we sit, sip espresso, and listen to Yo-yo Ma, we peer through the window at a gloomy grey sky and wonder if the weather and the road will finally triumph in their attempts to make us quit our journey (Pfff… yeah right)