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| Trinidad from the South |
I woke this morning at around eight o'clock. When checking my text messages, I was pleasantly surprised to find a picture of a hand-written poem by my friend Justin. He really should publish. I packed up and cycled down Patricks Point Drive to Trinidad. Taking a look around, I identified it as a classic NORC (naturally occurring retirement community). I met Snelling at Seascape Restaurant, down by the pier. I had the short stack and an egg. The waitresses were kind. One wore extremely colorful, broken glasses.
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| Morning Poem |
Pedaling south, we encountered the Hammond Trail, a paved bicycle trail that stretched for at least five miles along the coast west of McKinleyville. It was a joy to ride.
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| The Long Stopover - Arcada, California |
After entering Arcada, Snelling spotted the East Side Laundromat. We each had five days worth of dirty clothes and needed to stop. I locked up, grabbed my used clothing and started the washer. After sitting down, I noticed a patron making the most of his washer wait time. He was surfed up against the folding table, working the corner into his lower back. He worked different portions of his spine over the course of fifteen minutes.
After he left, I reflected on how much I enjoy spending time in laundromats. There is something to be said about the slow work being done by machines - the sound of movement, the heat, the possibility for conversation. I found a sticker with a quote next to the chair I was sitting at. Someone had been caught up in the waiting game of the laundry experience. I didn't find the piece particularly profound, but it made me reflect on laundries, and what they can offer people - time to think.
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| Laundromat Musings - Arcada, California |
Before leaving, I walked next door and bought a sandwich at Blondies Food and Drink, slipped it into my pannier and pedaled south out of town toward our next destination, Eureka.
The road to Eureka had been recently paved with asphalt. The shoulder was slopped with tar, which my tires picked up. It wasn't long before rocks began sticking to them and clicking against my fenders. To clear the front wheel, I extended my leg forward and drug my Chuck against the spinning rubber, freeing the pebbles. No more noise.
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| Eureka Lunchstop |
We stopped in Eureka at a grassy spot across from the boat harbor and had the sandwiches we previously purchased. I noticed a six-sided die on the top of a park garbage can that had different playing cards on each side. I'm a heavy gamer, but I didn't recognize the piece. I left it on the can. Thinking about it now, I should have rolled it.
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| Loleta Pride |
We left Eureka and, before I knew it, arrived in Loleta. Generally speaking, the town needed paint. Taking a spin around the neighborhoods, I couldn't help but eyeball a restored VW Transporter. I miss driving the one that we once owned. I may someday get back in the game.
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| Crossing the Eel |
Crossing the Eel River, and pedaling another five miles, we reached Ferndale. We found the Humboldt County Fairgrounds, unpacked our gear and headed into town. We met Don, a motorcycle tourist, at a large Victorian Hotel at the edge of town for a drink and a chat. He was headed to Canada on a multi-day road trip. It was the first day of his adventure. I ended the evening with a hot shower at the fairgrounds.
We cycled over fifty miles today.
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| Camping the Fairgrounds - Ferndale, California |
Spotlight: Caring for a Leather Saddle
I've had my Brooks B-17 saddle for over ten years. The comfort it offers far outweighs the extra care one must take to preserve it. A simple solution for keeping the rain and dew off is a plastic grocery bag. I slip this on every evening at camp, or at a stop if it looks like rain. Before riding, I make a neat ball of the bag and stuff it under the saddle. This light-weight solution has worked for years and has contributed to keeping my Brooks in excellent condition.
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| Lightweight Solution |
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