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.