Creme de la (organic, locally sourced) creme: Best of the California Bike Tour, Part Two
Welcome back to the illustrious four-wheeled, cider-powered journey of Sylva and Tyler in picture form. Let’s roll right back into Day 5, like a phat joint on a downhill slope (What? We’re in Cali after all..), where we transition from the towering Redwoods on the Avenue of the Giants, into the (strange, edgy) innards of…
Welcome back to the illustrious four-wheeled, cider-powered journey of Sylva and Tyler in picture form. Let’s roll right back into Day 5, like a phat joint on a downhill slope (What? We’re in Cali after all..), where we transition from the towering Redwoods on the Avenue of the Giants, into the (strange, edgy) innards of Humboldt County.
Our home for the night will be the Nadelos “tenting area,” which amuses us to no end. Nestled again in the King Range National Conservation Area, Nadelos proved to be a fine Bureau of Land Management establishment which got the award for Quietest Campground in the Fine Land of California and Beyond. I couldn’t argue, besieged the day before by a wicked cold which, after the initial liquid-hot-magma-throat subsided, became quite indecisive. This particular blight could not choose whether to infect my sinuses or my lungs, so — like the Protestants splitting from the Catholics — it left my sinuses to its opponents and staked a second claim in my unwilling lungs. Lucky me.
Nonetheless, come hell, high waters or hellish colds, we bicycle tourists shall climb on…
Day 5: Phillipsville, CA – Nadelos Tenting Area (near Shelter Cove, CA)
30 miles, 3200′ climbing
Gear check completion in front of the Riverwood Inn.
Or isn’t?
Leaving the slightly touristy, old-timey Redwood highway…
… for a blissfully brief stint on very busy Highway 101 (aka the Pacific Coast Highway/PCH). San Fran is only 205 miles away! Or it would be, if we weren’t taking the scenic route via the Lost Coast over the next couple days…
After a brisk seven mile ride to breakfast (we thought it was 3 miles), we cruised into Redway for Breakfast at Deb’s. Our fellow breakfast eaters were a flock of men, mostly tattooed and surly looking. Deb’s shared the building with a tire shop, so the hydraulic sounds of car tire swapping became our breakfast soundtrack.
After many miles and one brutal climb after Briceland, CA, we arrived in the quiet, shady tenting area. Infected with the Crud of all Cruds, I didn’t take many pictures but did take a serious nap once we got to camp.
Day 6: Nadelos Tenting Area – Usal Road – Howard Creek Ranch Inn (Westport, CA)
42 miles (24 miles of dirt), 5200′ climbing
Fog, light rain and temps in the mid-40s accompanied us until afternoon — along with a surprising amount of cars. Several miles down the remote road which quickly turned to dirt, we found a school of all things! Whale Gulch Elementary School, shrouded in mist, explained all the hubbub.
The sweet sign at Four Corners, where four roads — including a 21-mile “shortcut” to Highway 101 and our route, the Usal Road — began.
Enjoying the scenery on the hilly Usal Road.
Can’t resist an opportunity to be artsy-fartsy…
After 15 miles or more, the road dove sharply all the way down to sea level. Right before this bridge, a sign announced: “Warning! This area is tick-infested.” Oh, goody.
We tortured ourselves a bit more by climbing out of the hole before lunch — but it was well worth it. While we ate, we saw whales surfacing repeatedly in this cove.
After lunch and a soul-crushing, brick-wall steep climb, the road flattened and gave us an awesome view of the coast.
After more hillyness, once more steep descent along the dramatic Lost Coast down to paved Highway 1.
Once on the highway, we found ourselves in “civilization,” which is generous for the area around Westport. But after two days of remote back roads, it felt strange having people in RVs offering to take our pictures 🙂
A blissfully flat last 10 miles on the way to the Howard Creek Ranch Inn.
Parking the “car” in front of the Howard Creek Ranch Inn.
Ahhhh, sitting down!
Our hostess, Sally, leads us across the suspension bridge — bikes and all — to our room. We are the only guests, and since she wasn’t going to do the typical full breakfast (sad face), we were happily upgraded to a suite for no extra charge. A suite with a soaking pool, I might add!
The Ranch — which includes the ranch house across the other side of the bridge and the converted barn we stayed in — was built in the 1800s.
And the Ranch was complete with its own herd of goats and sheep…
… and a sweet little cat we called Almond after its huge, yellow almond-shaped eyes.
After getting settled in, Tyler ran to the store in Westport for supplies: ice cream, cider, chips, dried sausage and cheese. We had a splendid happy hour, went upstairs and searched the in-house library for books, chilled out and then passed out.
Day 7: Howard Creek Ranch Inn – Mackerricher State Park
20 miles, rolling
Breakfast in a basket from Sally, plus leftovers from happy hour and some blackberries I picked outside our room.
Sally told us we could check out whenever we wanted, so after breakfast we borrowed provided rubber boots and walked across the grounds to the beach.
The day started out chilly and partly cloudy, which made it all the more wondrous.
I love the gorgeous, slightly inhospitable northern seashore 🙂
A great view of the converted barn/inn coming back from the beach.
Since we were too tired to soak the night before, we packed up while the tub was filling and then took a leisurely soak.
Finally departing in early afternoon.
Another bike pic, this one with these pink flowers we’d seen all over the NorCal coast, but still aren’t sure what they are…
Doesn’t it though?
This one’s a whale of a tale…
The Eucalyptus-lined roads that lead us to Mackerricher State Park.
We stopped for lunch and supplies (aka cider) in nearby Cleone, before heading to the Park and settling in one of the $5 per person hiker/biker spots provided at all the Parks. The awesome Texan camp host, Barry, makes us feel at home and even gives us a free bundle of firewood.
Tyler’s first tide pooling adventures, which he gleefully likens to “snorkeling without the snorkel.”
A Bat Star (sea star not star fish, said a sign near the beach) clings to a slippery rock.
The beginning of the glorious sunset…
We walked out on the boardwalk to the edge of the cliff to enjoy the full effect.
Sunset over the tide pools.
Cheesy romantic sunset shot, finally accomplished on try number 37 by Sylva and Tyler.
Sunset’s pinnacle, over the silhouettes of strangers at the whale-watching platform also absorbing the view.
Today’s key term: Racoon Red Alert, brought to you by Sylva, Tyler and their new friends and camp-mates Sara (from Scotland) and Sam (from Australia). The pair met in Canada working at a ski resort and decided when their visas ran out to ride from there to Baja, Mexico. We liked them immediately, and spent the night chatting and sipping our respective adult beverages. That is until full Racoon Red Alert, which began after dark when one fat, tenacious racoon knocked over Tyler’s bicycle. Their beady eyes peered out of bushes on all sides — we were under attack! Armed with rocks from the parking lot, we beat the enemies back into the bushes… or so we thought.
After I returned from a tactical mission in the bathroom, six pairs of eyes shone out of the darkness in the adjacent camp; one more scout peered out from the bushes by Sam and Sara’s tent. At this point, we had scoured our gear for everything remotely food-like, even wrappers. But the little buggers kept up the siege nonetheless. Tyler and I managed to tree three of them. Peppered with rocks, they climbed over each other in a panic to get higher up in the trees, causing us all to laugh until we peed ourselves. But when we turned our backs, we could hear them scurrying loudly back to earth, readying for the next wave of attacks.
At some point, we reached a tenacious equilibrium. The racoons that skunked around our tent relentlessly in the early hours of the skirmish seemed to retreat. But apparently poor Sam had to leave the warmth of his tent several times under cover of darkness to fend the enemies off his and Sara’s bikes.
Day 8: Mackerricher State Park – The Andiron (near Mendocino)
20 miles, rolling
In the morning, Sam and Sara beat us to the road, as they had a longer day planned. We zipped into nearby Fort Bragg — via a sweet bike path we spocked the night before — for breakfast and much-needed laundry.
The view down from an old bridge on the bike path which spanned a river’s mouth.
Quaint, chill downtown Fort Bragg. On the right: the bright red sign for the Wizard of Oz-themed Eggheads, where we had an a mindblowing breakfast of crab benedicts and apple-bacon waffles. Want to see more? Don’t miss the NorCal Food blog that’s coming soon!
The Emerald City — aka the charming pooper (two words I never thought I’d use together).
Inside the charming pooper, a wall of Oz-themed cartoons. This one’s my favorite!
Re-stocking our supplies at the store, we run into none other than our friends in arms, Sam and Sara!!
Sam knocked on the window of the store’s lobby, where we had our crap spread to the four winds trying to fit all our food in our panniers. He motioned to us to come outside. “Some guy came out with this fruit,” Sam said. “And then he dropped it and ran off. I think he stole it!” In true scavengers/bike tourist fashion, we picked it up off the ground and ate it.
Quaint Mendocino (aka “Spendocino” — it’s rather expensive), built in the 1800s and perched on the cliff, was worth cruising through.
We opted to stay nearby in the hills outside of Mendocino, at the quirky, vintage Andiron.
In the office, we found complimentary organic eggs from the on-site chickens at the owner’s house, fruit, coffee, tea and about six giant albums full of movies to borrow.
In our room (half a cabin, this half called “Curios-er”), we found homemade whoopie pies, a vibrating vintage green chair, a magic 8-ball and circus-themed decor.
The day wasn’t complete, of course, without a little cider drank outside in the remaining sunshine. After dark, we ate our store-bought salads, watched “Moonrise Kingdom” (again) and walked uphill to soak in the outdoor hot tub, surrounded by trees.
Day 9: The Andiron – Gualala State Park
50.5 miles, 2800′ climbing
Leaving Curios-er in the morning.
Signs that we are — obviously — quite fond of on the narrow, windy, shoulder-less Coast Highway.
Stunning views as we threaded along the exposed, clifftop road.
The enviable view from our lunch spot at the park in tiny Elk, CA.
A road-side rendez-vous with Sara and Sam, about halfway to Gualala State Park (they’d be staying there as well). It was here we casually asked what day it was and then realized, oh, it’s October 2: our anniversary!! We both forgot, classic 🙂
Cruising into Point Arena, a sloping, picturesque town with a good vibe and an even better bakery…
Franny’s Cup and Saucer!!
What to choose? Cookies? Brownies? Cupcakes? How about one of each! Luckily, Sara and Sam cruised by while we were sitting on a sunny curb stuffing our faces. We yelled to them so they could get in on the delectable baked goods, too!
After stopping for dinner supplies (fresh pasta with proscuitto, tomatoes and onion), we zipped along the home stretch to Gualala.
In the treed campsite, we set up with Sara and Sam and another solo bike tourist, Kristen. She started in Canada and was riding all the way to Argentina (meeting her riding partner at the Mexican border). I was insane with jealousy!
Time for me to be like the ocean and sea you next time! Part three comes on the next tide, with more tales of fantastically strong winds, National Park sojourns and our imminent arrival via Golden Gate Bridge to San Francisco…
Sylva Florence 
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