Ascension Cycling

Dave and I are home. We arrived Ascension, the 40th day of Easter after 35 days on the road. On our last day we both rode centuries (100 miles) and Dave did even better than that.

Sitting in Oxnard on Tuesday, we realized that we were only 180 miles from home and that we could, if we pounded the pedals make it on Thursday, or at least be sleeping in our own beds Thursday. Sitting and visiting with Donald and Joan in their great home made this all the more desirable. Our next destination was Hermosa Beach (70 miles) where we had lodging with The Rev. Kate Lewis daughter of All Souls' parishioner Molly Bodeen. So we thought we'd go for a long day from Hermosa Beach (right next to LAX) to SD if we could.

The ride from Oxnard to Hermosa was a mixed bag. Oxnard is a town surrounding a military base surrounded by farmland. It was one of the places the Farm Workers organized in the 60's and 70's. Huge fields of fragrant celery and thousands of acres of sod. Once again there was a low pressure system dominating, forcing us to cycle through the wind.

When we finally got to the unimpeded coast south of Oxnard we had a lovely ride except for Dave's flat along Hwy 1 as we cruised by the Santa Monica mountains. I had been waiting to see Malibu, but was sorely disappointed. What a dump. It was a 27 mile dump though with no real distinguishing features. We did, however, like the Malibu Pier, where we rode to the end and chatted with many colorful people.

Leaving Malibu you cycle by miles of houses with their back doors pressed right to the 1 and their front doors to the ocean. I suppose it is cool, but never quiet.

Santa Monica offered us the beginning of a real treat: a paved bicycle trail that would essentially take us all the way around LA. It was a total delight to ride and we took some time at Venice Beach to enjoy the flavor of the culture. I had a great Venice Beach hot dog and several conversations with bikers who came by to admire our rigs. Linears always start conversations. We rolled into St Cross by the Sea Episcopal Church at 4:30 to be given the run of an apartment by Rev. Kate. The plan for the next day was to be on the road by 5:30 a.m. and ride home. The only possible impediment was the threat of rain.

We actually were on the road by 5:30 after a quick breakfast of bacon and eggs (I think we ate them all Kate). The bike path was populated by runners and cyclists and walkers. In one of our guide books they had suggested just riding the 1 at this point despite it being loaded with glass and pot holes, because the bike path went through garages and stuff. We found the path well planned and delightful, specially at 5:30 a.m. It took us to Palos Verdes and out of the main LA area.

The road climbed through the residential areas of PV which is a lovely town. Some crazy drivers were out early to bedevil us. The dramatic change is when you descend from this gorgeous Palos Verdes to the west end of Long Beach. One rides from plush rich homes right into a refinery and port. Ugh. Busy cruddy streets with pushy drivers and typical urban blight storefronts. Several miles of that took us over the LA river and into Long Beach proper, a bit nicer, but nicest as you head east towards a reworked downtown area. We stopped and had some nice pastries at a shop.

Continuing we came to Huntington Beach, riding between the 1 and the ocean once more on a beach path. Because of work on the 1 they had built this special detour including a path crossing guard who helped us carry our bikes over a two foot deep road of sand used by the construction folks to move sand to the beach from where they were working. The town proper, like Newport to follow, was another polished retail strip.

All this while, by the way, we are NOT getting rained on, but riding into wind, which was slowing us down.

After Newport came the big psychological turn, a climb to Dana Point and then a descent and entry into San Clemente. Remember the old "Turn right at the star and then on to morning" from Peter Pan? This was that sort of break. At San Clemente the Coast Highway is taken over by the 5 (booooo!) and so we got to wend our way through residential streets once more. Lots of turn and hills to climb. In residential areas they do not care about the grade of the hills as much as they do along the highways. The neighborhoods were great, with lots of adults and kids shouting encouragement. They get to see lots of cyclists since this is the way through San Clemente for everyone doing what we were doing.

San Clemente ends in a bike trail that is supposed to take us to the gate of Camp Pendleton. It actually does do that, but the maps did not really do justice to the distance you have to go to get there.

The path turns into the abandoned roadbed of the Pacific Coast Highway (PC). A wide three lane road with nothing on it except us and a few runners. It was the first sense of being in the film "On the Beach". It ends at a short path that goes to a chain link fence with a section cut out. It is clearly marked as the path, but feels a little odd. We were expecting Pendleton, but got San Onofre instead. It was dumping us onto the frontage road that runs by the power plant and state beach. We thought it would be a quick pop to Pendleton. Wrong again.

The frontage road past the nuke plant (closest I've ever been to one) leads into a park that is totally deserted at this time of the year. We road for several miles wondering if we were in the right place, or just cycling to a dead end that would force us to turn around. Several times it brings you to little booths that look like guard stations, but none were. Then the park ends and cyclists have to go around another barrier, clearly marked, and ride again on the abandoned road bed.

Finally, finally it ends. The path turns left and goes under the 5. There is a tunnel sigh warning to look out for cyclists and military vehicles while in the tunnel. There was another little path that went up to a Vista point, and we decided to see if we could get on the 5 there and skip Pendleton even though we were right there. Turns our that by sliding our bikes through a broken panel in the barrier gate we could get into the Vista Point. Then we quickly rode the 5 to Oceanside.

This was a horrendous ride. Loudest, busiest, scariest, in some ways, of all the highways we had traveled. But I found it to be the perfect contrast for the point of our ride: speed of bike and speed of auto/truck. The road is pretty clean and the cars and trucks far enough away, but I felt less safe than when I was riding the white line with logging trucks going by.

But we made it to Oceanside. Dave's desire was to sprint for SD and see if he could make it before dark, but we had also discussed going 100 miles and then finishing the ride in the next day or so after some recuperation in bed. Dave had been chomping at the bit for this all day, so I told him to go for it and I would ride to the century mark and then come back and finish the ride (treating home just like any other motel or hospitality stop. Dave will have to tell you what the end of that day was like for him, but I had Kathleen and Katie pick me up at the Century mark because 13 hours of cycling into the wind was my limit for the day. No doubt I could have made it the next 20 miles since my legs were working fine. I would have taken no pleasure in the ride and pleasure in the ride was my objective each and every day.

So we are home and safe. Well actually Dave is on a plane to Chicago to surprise his dad for his birthday. On Saturday the 14th we will have the last stage ride from All Souls to Imperial Beach and a party/open house at the Rectory.

The Speed of Bike will continue, though it will take some hiatus while I am in Africa, since I do not think I will be cycling there. But who knows.

I will see today what re-entry into the speed of car world is like............