Up and at them to get over the two remaining big hills before the tourist traffic starts. Most of the vehicles on California 1 around here are either RVs, obviously rented because it says so in big letters on the side, or big rental cars containing families who stop at every view point, or middle-aged couples in rented convertibles. It’s handy to have the road to ourselves for a bit.
Anyway, instead of another picture of the coast, here’s a picture of my rear tyre. I noticed during a stop that there’s no tread left on it, and in fact in several places, it’s through the rubber and down to the little metal cords. This, needless to say, isn’t good. It means I’ve worn it out in 1400 miles: it was absolutely new when I rolled out of Vancouver, never been ridden on. I stick a bit of duct tape over the worst parts and hope it doesn’t pop before we hit the flat land again near San Simeon.
The elusive Pacific Coast Bike Route sign reappears. Haven’t seen one for a couple of days. I’m not sure what they’re for, really. You can’t navigate by them because sometimes they disappear for 75 miles.
Now we’re on the flat again, there’s long, lovely beaches, and the fog has gone, at least temporarily. On these beaches repose a large colony of elephant seals.
By heck, they pong. Anyway, after that we pass the Hearst Castle, too far away to photograph, built for the newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. At San Simeon, we’re in a motel, so I check the interyweb for nearby bike shops and find one in Cambria, four miles down the road. So, the next morning, we head over to Cambria Bike Outfitters to get a new one. (Today, I shall mostly be buying a new tyre).
While we were there, I took the opportunity to borrow their track pump and blow up our tyres. Many weeks ago, in Fortuna, I fitted a new tube to Diane’s bike, and the top of the valve broke off. I have left it alone since then, but now it chose to fail catastrophically, so I had to fit a new one. So here’s me, fitting a new tube after the mechanic has finished fitting me a new tyre. During the latter process, we discussed America’s debt crisis. We agreed that the debt thing was not as scary as the utter childishness of most politicians when faced with a crisis. As he put it, they’ve elected a lot of three-year-olds. The UK isn’t much different, I told him.
After leaving Cambria, we head over to Morro Bay, our campsite for the night. It’s a short day anyway, just as well after our tyre-purchasing interlude. On the outskirts of the town, we stop at Albertson’s Supermarket, and as is usual, we use their restrooms. Whilst waiting for a coffee, another customer asked me if I knew the store. I said no, not really, but she wanted to know the location of the restrooms. Ah, I said, that’s about the only thing I do know, and told her. Thank you, she said, you have beautiful blue eyes. Ah, I said. So here’s me outside the supermarket with the eyes in question.
At Morro Bay, we have a lovely site amongst the eucalyptus trees, but by golly, it’s cold. Here we are in Southern California, and we’re still wearing down jackets at 6pm in the evening.
The following morning, it’s no warmer as we set off for Pismo Beach, where we will spend a rest day. Our cooking gas supply packed in last night, so we also need to find an outdoor shop in San Luis Obispo to buy another. It’s hot enough when we get away from the coast, and in SLO it’s cooking. We get the gas, have a spot of lunch, and then head off for Pismo Beach. Eventually, we regain the coast and see Pismo Pier in the distance.
Let’s see what the weather’s like tomorrow !
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