7: Santa Barbara

I made it!

My day certainly did not go as originally planned. In fact, my route was nearly completely nonoverlapping with my planned route, which was to go over the abandoned Refugio Road, then all the way over West Camino Cielo and East Camino Cielo, then down Gibraltar Road. I was having second thoughts, though, given the insane amount of elevation gain.

As I left Solvang, the day looked to be outstandingly sunny. I couldn't understand the 40% chance of precipitation in the forecast. I turned onto Refugio and immediately encountered a "road closed, bridge out" sign. Having been trained that such signs don't typically apply to cyclists, I went to investigate, accompanied by many construction trucks. What it really meant was that they were actively rebuilding a bridge, and no, you really can't walk around the earth excavator.

Great, so I would need to go up CA-154 to Stagecoach Road. On the way out of Refugio, the road was so bumpy that my bagman bent such that it stopped my bag onto the rear wheel. I had to pull out my ingenuity and steal the strap from my handlebar bag, sling my rear bag over my shoulder, and limp over to a hardware store in Santa Ynez to get an Allen wrench of the right size. It turned out that bending it back was the right solution, though. Now I did notice the clouds over the mountains getting darker and darker. I also realized I had lost a water bottle somewhere, but I was carrying enough extra liquids that I want worried.

There was an exciting episode on 154 at a long stretch of single-lane road closure. The traffic in the other direction wasn't held for me while I slogged uphill, so I had to jump off the side of the road to wait for them to pass.

Then the rain began, at noon, and it was a test in many ways. I was able to find a large oak tree to stay dry under and wait. I ate some of the food I'd accumulated in the past day. And I continued to wait. I watched the drizzle go on for about an hour, and I watched a patch of blue sky creep into view over the ridge. Finally,  running out of patience, I decided to start riding again, but I didn't get far before deciding it would be better to bail out.

I stuck my arm out, hoping to flag down a truck driver with some room to spare. Out of maybe 150 cars that went by, one stopped. Unfortunately his truck was full, but he did report that the weather was better on the Santa Barbara side, and the rain was really just in this 5-mile stretch. After about 15 minutes, I gave up my faith in humanity. I decided to test my insolence; I might as well stay warm by keeping moving.

It was just 3 miles to Stagecoach Road. This section was also marked "closed", but for no discernible reason. It came to another junction with 154, beyond which it was open. The rain had by now really let up, but I still had on most of my layers to stay warm. It was a steady climb up to a self-proclaimed historic civil engineering landmark, the Cold Springs Arch Bridge, and then the Cold Springs Tavern. Lunch was well-deserved: chili, burger, cheesecake.

A bit more climbing brought me to San Marcos Pass. There was some scary descending with fast traffic on 154 to Old San Marcos Road. I've never seen a road anywhere with such an amazing view. I saw a channel island in the distance, the shining Pacific and the sun breaking over the coastal cities, and the gloomy cover of clouds over the dark Santa Ynez Mountains. It was a straightforward and steep descent.

It was so warm down below, I had to repack my bag to put my extra layers in. I tried to follow the remarkably well-signed bike routes for a while, but soon I found my way over to the easiest one to navigate, State Street. I arrived at my hosts' at 4:30.

6: Solvang

Just as carrying a flat of strawberries precariously sensitizes one to every little bump in the road, the looming threat of dark clouds makes one alert to every possibility of shelter. Highway 166 started out in the grassland hills with hardly a tree at all, but after some swooping bridges over wide dry riverbeds, it came into scrubland hills with occasional trees. Traffic was not too frequent, but there were many trucks.

A few times I got a few drops of rain and the sensation of outrunning the storm. But as I can't to wet spots on the road, I realized the storm had passed in front of me. My timing was fortuitous. As I came to the turn to Tepusquet Road, the sunlight broke through. I almost stopped to play a celebratory tune on my whistle.

It was 5 miles straight uphill on beautifully smooth pavement. As I reached the top, a cyclist with no helmet was descending. I put on my jacket as large raindrops began to fall, but they disappeared as I went down the south side, about 9 miles of great descending. This road must be a well-kept secret; there was so little traffic that I managed to startle a family of deer.

I stopped in at Kenneth Volk to taste their interesting grape varietals and to refill water. I learned I had come to the Foxen Canyon Wine Trail. Better watch out for tipsy drivers, I guess.

Just down the road was Riverbench, where I had their selection of mostly Pinot Noir and conversed with some wine club members who were in to pick up their regular order who told me about the Foxen Canyon "wall", but I was sure it couldn't be that bad. We also discussed the harvest festival this weekend at a vineyard down the road, and how this winery was actually going to close early that day to avoid drunken customers. As I was going to leave, perhaps because I'd come 50 miles by bike, the server wouldn't even take my money for the tasting! I realized then that wineries don't really care about turning a profit on tastings.

Foxen Canyon was a very slow and long climb, then a steep section to get out of the valley, then a slow and long descent on very deteriorated pavement. It was getting late and I couldn't make any more wine tasting stops. The wall was a short climb of around 9% grade at most, but the reward was a panoramic view of the valley to the west and the mountains to the east.

I came into Los Olivos, and I decided I was hungry enough to want to resupply. But when I got into town at 17:15, the general store had already closed for the day! Sure, wine tasting rooms and an equestrian apply store were still open, but the town was a failure in my mind.

I found a nice bike route south to Solvang, and I contended with traffic on CA-246 to get to the farmers market just before closing. Then I went to my motel, the Hamlet Inn, to check in and clean up, wandered around town to see what was still open (not much), and ended up across the street at the Solvang Brewing Company for a dinner of beer and sausages. I was hungry, as it turns out.

5.25: Rancho Nipomo

I met the storm and it met me. I waited out for 5 minutes at a middle school in Halcyon and then 30 miserable minutes behind a medium-sized tree a mile before reaching Nipomo. I decided to get an early lunch at Rancho Nipomo, before I head into the hills. With any luck, the blue skies will hold out for a while.

Bed and breakfast, part 2

Toast with homemade strawberry jam, eggs, bacon, pear, fresh orange juice, tea

Weather?!

Mr. Zhao, whom I stayed with in Seaside, a meteorologist by training, advised me there could be a low pressure system coming in through southern California in the middle of the week, but it would probably bring scattered showers that I could seek shelter from until they subside. Spot on. At least he says the real winter storms from the Pacific don't come until December.

At least it looks like the winds are still going to blow from the northwest generally. But my gear doesn't include fenders. I am packing enough layers to get through a storm for a while, but there might not be a great deal of shelter en route. If it's still bad tomorrow I should think hard about the prudence of riding on the ridgetop with the chance of lightning.

Well, it still looks nice this morning, even if it all could change...

5: Arroyo Grande

The highlights of the afternoon:
- Turri Road, where I saw a total of 3 cars, a school bus, and a mail truck
- Prefumo Canyon, yet another exposed steep climb, but this time with cattle grates and a truly unique view of Morro Rock
- See Canyon, an unexpected dirt road section at the top (again with cattle grates) and another exciting descent
- See Canyon Fruit Farms, a source for massive heirloom apples
- Kelsey See Canyon Vineyards, a nice place with lots of peacocks foot no apparent reason
- Avila Valley Barn, where I had pumpkin pie a la mode
- seeing the Shell Beach cliffs up close
- the Grieb Farmhouse Inn, where I am the guest. That's right, there is only 1 guest here tonight.

Unfortunately my phone gave up the ghost earlier in the day, so some pictures never came to be.

4.5: Morro Bay

I had a nice bowl of oatmeal at the hostel before leaving, bidding farewell to the friendliest staff and the travelers from Finland, Malaysia, and Kansas. Today is the first day of riding uniquely interesting roads, and the hostel staff were very excited to hear about my day's itinerary.

First up: Santa Rosa Creek Road. It starts right outside Cambria, passing a few cow farms, and climbing gently along the creek. I said good morning to a pair of ranchers right where the real climbing started. It was quite a struggle to stay upright on the steep pitches of sometimes over 20% grade. I was definitely missing having the Long Haul Trucker's low gearing. However, I realized foolishly I'd actually been in my 2nd to lowest gear. It got easier after that.

Over the top was a terribly steep descent, the "wall", and then some downhill rolling to Highway 46. Old Creek Road had nice pavement, unlike the brokenness of Santa Rosa Creek, and it was rolling uphill until an outrageously fun descent. Coming into Cayucos, I saw an enormous reservoir to my right.

I found the bike path on the side of CA-1 we missed last year. I came to Tognazzini's for lunch, oyster chowder and lingcod scampi. I may have eaten too much...