Onward and Downward

Setting out from camp

Here we are, a month of riding and over 1000 miles down the west coast. We've seen every type of scene, from the rainforest of the olympic peninsula to the desert butting up against coastal California. We've walked through glorious redwood forests and along endless stretches of sandy beach cut off only by dramatic cliffs falling into the ocean. Together we have ridden through hot, arid farmland, against relentless pacific winds, and along the main streets of small town America. We ventured onto populated roads and highways admiring the confidence of city cyclers who ride alongside traffic on their daily commutes. 

We prefer the scenic route

All the food I painstakingly purchased, dehydrated, packed, and planned out has proven well worth the efforts and forethought. We've been re-supplied by Costco and various local stores along the way, making it possible to eat PB&J's daily, have the occasional hydrated vegetable, and rejoice in our rest days with 2 cups of morning coffee, eggs, and sausage. In one month of riding we have only had a roof over our heads 5 times, making us what one of Rebekah's friends referred to as "durable." 

Cooking over fire is somewhat of a specialty of ours

It is surreal to look at our timeline and know we are in the process of wrapping this trip up. At the start of the ride we were fighting mostly physical battles, trying to overcome the cold, rain, muscle pains, and strains. Now we fight the mental battles of getting on the bike after a restless, cold night to ride on an overcast windy coast. Or we wrestle navigating a complex city map with poorly marked bike routes and paved roads suddenly turning to gravel. 

Before crossing the Golden Gate Bridge

It would take pages and pages of internet to write out all the lessons learned by riding a bike every day. The ones learned about ourselves are proving the most rewarding. We have adopted this saying, "Onward and downward," our unofficial mantra spurring us on to continue a ride with unknown climbs around every corner. We know the up-hills are coming, but we don't dread them like we did at the beginning. We hope for smooth down hills, but even those can be stress-inducing; we anticipate the pot holes, loose rocks, and sudden turns that change a delightful descent into a brake clenching dive. 

Ending a 60 mile day

The confidence we've gained at the tops and bottoms of these hills isn't something we could manufacture. It requires us to face the climb every day and trust ourselves to navigate the following descents. At first I thought the feeling at the bottom of a hill was the best part of a ride, but it's the feeling of looking out over a hard-earned scenic viewpoint that keeps me going. With plenty more obstacles to overcome I've never been more sure we are up for them. 

Highway 1