Santa Cruz, San Francisco, and Marin, California

Hello, Friends. I’m going to try to blow through this post quickly. After leaving Downieville, I made for Santa Cruz, the same place the Lost Boys was filmed and home to all things Jimerica! loves. Good people, good riding, and good beer. I had a little snafu on my first ride here, which landed my bike in the bicycle ER. Fortunately, I found Sarah, who has been working on bikes for 20 years and figured out how to get me back on the road in less than a day.

Sarah at Epicenter Cycling.

Since my ride had been cut short, I had a bit of time on my hands. So, I hit the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. I get the feeling they keep this place intentionally mildly creepy, in a cool way, as a subtle “hello” to Lost Boys fans. I didn’t anticipate all the sea lions sunning themselves under the pier. Here’s one that was branded for some reasong. If anybody knows somebody that was born on 8/6/73, I found their sea lion.

8/6/73

On my second day, I got to do the full ride I’d intended on doing the first day. It was at “Wilder Ranch”. The ride was good, though not as good as what I’ve done so far. If you ever do hit the Wilder trail system, don’t miss the “Enchanted Loop”. It’s by far the best here. I don’t mean to be negative about the riding here, it’s just that you can’t ask Santa Cruz for the same sort of riding you get in Downieville, or Sedona. There are some other trail systems, but they are mostly on the campus of University of California, Santa Cruz, and are technically illegal to ride. Though, every single person I passed told me to go. Did Jimerica! ride these illegal systems? The world shall never know. Here are some shots from Wilder:

The Enchanted Loop

Fabio McHorsehead. Making Jimerica! sexy again like it always was.

The Enchanted Loop

What is undeniably great here are the beaches, food, and people. It’s the sort of chill that only California can claim. Here are some random shots:

Yeah, it's just a menu. But it's a good one. Do not miss this place if you ever find yourself in Santa Cruz.

And if you are not yet convinced, they have whiskey on tap.

4 Mile Beach. Santa Cruz. Wilder Ranch State Beach.

After Santa Cruz, I headed to San Francisco for the first time in my life. My cousin Hughy, who has lived here since 1984, met me with his bike at Land’s End Park. He was the first familiar face I've seen in nearly a month. We spent the next 5 hours pedaling around the city. This is by far the most bike friendly place I’ve ever seen. We easily navigated the city from end to end and back (with many big climbs and long downhills). Here are some shots from the day:

You will never meet a more unique person than this guy, my cousin Hughy.

Jimerica! trusts that you know what this is.

Lindy in the Park!

Haight Ashbury.

Yup.

My tour guide and cousin, Hughy Ferry. San Fran native since 1984.

Ocean Beach. San Francisco.

I crashed on Hughy’s couch last night and then headed to Marin, California, the birthplace of mountain biking, this morning. I was wiped out from riding three days straight, so I just got my car reorganized and worked on this incredible blog post. I’m currently sitting at the Marin Brewing Company (excellent, excellent, put it on the list). They've been brewing beer here since 1989, including one of the better saison beers I've had in a long time. They also have a nice menu.

Anthony from Marin Brewing Company

In a bit, I will leave to go reunite with two of my Peace Corps friends, Pam and Nathan, who both live in the bay area. I'm VERY excited to see these guys. I haven't seen either of them since I left Namibia over 3 years ago. I’ll crash at Nathan’s tonight and then head to a place called “Camp Tamarancho” early in the morning, which offers top-notch riding. After that ride, I will head to my new home for two nights, which will require a 5 mile hike from my car to my ocean side campsite. I’ll update all of you on that next time. Thanks for reading. Happy Memorial Day!

Downieville, California (Sierra Nevada Mountains)

They have a bar here named after a Saint. It’s hard to find food before 5:00PM or after 7:00PM. Nobody can tell you when or if any particular store will open. I have no cell phone reception in town, or in any direction for 50 miles. They have these strangely dressed, um, I don’t know, mannequins I guess, in random places. The power was out most of the day yesterday. Dogs wander freely about town. I haven’t seen a leash once. Welcome to Downieville, California, the coolest town I’ve ever been in.

I met a lot of people here, and this post is mostly going to be about them. Here you go.

I’ve found that the best place to go when arriving to a town the first time is the bar. There, you’ll find all the answers to the questions you have about the area and you will also find beer. Here, that bar is Saint Charles Place.  It was late afternoon when I walked in. A tall thin guy walked past me in the dim light as I approached the bar. He was about 6’3” with a long grey beard. He was wearing sunglasses. On the floor was a sleeping dog that was about the size of a dire wolf. The bartender, a woman named Robin, greeted me. There were only 4 people in the bar, and I knew each of them by name before I left, as well as the dog’s name, which was Brutus. Robin works here part-time, but her full time occupation is teaching math and science at the local school. Her personality is sharp and intelligent, with just a bit of wolf eyes so you knew you weren't going to get away with anything. Consummate school teacher. The school educates kids from Kindergarten through 12^th grade. About 50 in all.

Brutus. The entire town knows and loves this dog. But, there is one thing he does not like.

And that thing he does not like is the paparazzi. As soon as he saw me hold my phone up, he got irritated. I put it away and we've been friends ever since.

The gentleman in this photo is Dale. The owner of the bar, Steve, referred to him as "King". I only got to chat with him very briefly. I regret not trying harder. He seems to be a big part of this community. Maybe one of you can come visit here and tell me his story. On Dale's arm is Robin.

 

Here is the gentleman that walked past me when I first arrived, Larry, with his wife Cheryl. He has a Harley he bought back in '79. He said nobody has ever laid a wrench on it except him. The town grocery store had closed up before Larry had a chance to buy a cigar. He was happy to learn I always keep a couple stashed in my car.

Larry and Cheryl and a pretty funny sign on the left.

We never stop learning new things about ourselves as we go through life. For instance, some might discover that they don’t enjoy their Chardonnay oaked, while others might discover that they do not enjoy riding their bicycle on the edge of a shear cliff. We are quirky creatures. So, when I get to a new town, I find a good bike shop and get the down-low on all the local trails. Here, that shop was the Downieville Outfitters. The owner, Greg, hooked me up with some great rides (I wish I’d gotten a picture of Greg, but I didn’t). In any case, please visit Greg. He will hook you up. Yuba Expeditions is also in town, and equally capable.

I did a long ride two days ago on the most famous trails system here, which is called the Downieville Downhill. The very top of the ride is still snow covered but a large portion of it is open and in perfect condition. Yesterday, I did the North Yuba Trail. On this ride, I got a taste of how quickly the weather can change here (see: The Donner Party).  After a long switchback climb, I was nearing the top of my ride when I felt a rain drop. Two minutes later I was in a complete downpour. The trail quickly turned into a creek, so I turned back and rolled back into town about an hour later with the rain still pouring down. I got to my hotel and found the owner, Mike, and two other riders who had also gotten caught in the rain chatting in the hotel’s garage area. Mike stepped inside and came back with a glass of Irish whiskey and handed it to me. How I love this town. After that, I cleaned up and then joined Mike for a cigar and beer. Shortly after, the other two riders (Nick and Brian) joined us. We sat on the deck, watched the rain, drank our beer, and listened to Mike’s stories about the history of the area. As we sat there, the power blinked back on.

North Yuba Trail about 15 minutes before the downpour

A shot from the 2nd Divide Trail.

Also on the 2nd Divide Trail

This is the owner of the Riverside Inn, Mike. And, I shit you not, he is receiving a phone call from the electric company letting him know that the power is out. It's been out for 7 hours at this point.

Here is the only remotely decent pic I got of Nick (right) and Brian (left, and don't call him Ryan). We were commiserating on food options at this point. These were great guys. Brian is a auto mechanic, and Nick owns a business installing car racks for all varieties of outdoor enthusiasts. If you live in the bay area, he's your man. Nick Bullion. Nick@racksolid.com
www.racksolid.com

Nick, Brian, and I were starting to get hungry, so we set out on a search for food. No luck. The one place serving food today, St. Charles Place, had sold out of their one and only option, pulled pork BBQ sandwiches. There was nothing else to be had in town. So, I ordered a beer and a snickers bar. They do not pair well. Then a gang of Canadians I had met on the Downieville Trail the day before walked in. We spent the next hour laughing with them and then they invited us to their place for dinner. Score! Real food! There were five in their group, three of them were family physicians, their ages ranged from mid-forties to 66, and all of them were bad ass mountain bikers. They couldn’t have been friendlier. The eight of us ate at a great big table in their mountain house and traded stories until late. It was the best rainy day I can remember. 

This is one of the very few pix I have of the Canadians. The power had been out most of the day and my phone was nearly dead. 

Brian, Nick, and Mystery Canadian at the mountain house

Ok, so I could talk about these folks all day. But, there are other folks I need to talk about, so I'm going to move on. Would you like to meet Crystal Rick?

Crystal Rick

I was riding a trail they call the "1st Divide" when I passed Crystal Rick. He was into his work and didn't hear me coming, so I made some noise as I approached. He heard me and jumped off the trail to let me pass. I said "hello" and he said "I'm hunting crystals!".  I rode for about 100 feet and then realized that seemed eager to fill me in on what he was doing. I hit the brakes, dropped the bike, and walked back to see what Crystal Rick had to share. This was his "claim", an area he owned and could search for crystals. He talked about the color and clarity, how they grew, and how the best time to hunt was after the rain. He sometimes worked the this area, and another he owned, with a metal detector looking for gold, which he occasionally found. He gave me a few dirty stones and told me to wash them off when I got home. Here's one of them:

Crystal Rick said he was about to smoke up and asked me if I wanted to join him. I noted that I was on a mountain bike with quite a few miles of single track riding to go and that I had little experience with the marijuana. He laughed. We shook hands, and away I went.

David and Tyler:

David and Tyler and a bare assed woman on the right.

David and Tyler hunt for gold. They have a gold mine up here that they are working hard on. Tyler loves hockey and convinced me for once and forever that hockey is the most challenging sport on the planet. He also looks a little like Dave Grohl. David (not the dave grohl look alike, tyler) runs things. He reminds me of some of the GMs (General Managers) of baseball teams I've met in my days with my cousin Andy McCauley. Here's David with his friend:

OK, so Deana didn't like this pic as much as some other pics I took. But it's my blog and I liked it.

I'm getting towards the end here, so stick with me. I have to mention Steve, owner of Saint Charles Place. If there is a guy that is going to feed you in this town, particularly if you're here in mid-week non-prime season, it's probably going to be Steve. He owns St. Charles and runs it well. He offers only one dish per day. 6 days a week, it's a pork BBQ sandwich. One day, Wednesday (today!!), it's a cheeseburger. Are you getting a feeling for this town? The pulled pork is excellent, the cheez burger was oh so good. Here is an awful pic of Steve. The man never stopped moving. Best I could do was this:

Steve.

I'm really trying to wrap this up. But don't you want to hear about the guy who was dropped off at my hotel by a sheriff? Well, of course you do. Meet Dave:

Dave was hiking the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT, as they call it in these parts). He started in Mexico and 700 miles later ended here, talking to me, after being rescued by helicopter off a mountain top. He'd hit an area that had a pretty solid trail, but it was through about 7 feet of snow. Then it started snowing (again, See: The Donner Party). The snow hid the trail from him, which was on a cliff side. So, he set up his tent out in the open so he could be clearly seen by any helicopter that might come by, and spent two full days hoping for rescue. He was saved via helicopter, which dropped him off with a local sheriff who then brought him to my camera lens. I asked him what he was going to do next. He said, "I'm going home". 

Dave was really happy to be in this vehicle.

There are only two to go, and they will be quick. Meet Morgan and Megan. Recent mothers who had exactly 3 minutes. Their husbands, or maybe boyfriends, I don't know (i only had 3 minutes friends), where waiting with their babies in the car. They entered the bar like a hurricane, ordered what looked like an irish car bomb, never stopped talking for a second, and left at the 3 minute mark.

Morgan and Megan. No clue which is which. They enjoyed this 3 minutes thoroughly 

So Morgan and Megan only count as one. Now you meet Shawn. Shawn is a fisherman and motorcycle enthusiast that spends his off seasons riding about Mexico and any other twisted road he can find. To finance this, he works on tuna fishing boats. He's done this since the late 70s. 

And 100% finally, I promise. Please put this place on your list. It's great for biking, kayaking, fishing, and relaxing. And if you do make it here, stay at the Riverside Inn. Maybe bring some food. Thanks for reading.

Moab Part Two

In the spirit of keeping up with blogging, I need to wrap up Moab because I ain’t in Moab no more. So, when last we spoke, I was on the mend from a wee spill I took on my wee bicycle. I realized shortly after my last post that I would need a few more days to heal before getting back on my bike, so I packed up my wee little tent and my great big air mattress and hit the road. But, before I left, I had one more night in Moab.

There’s a joint on the Arches National Park end of Moab called “The Atomic”.  To me, it appeared to be a little burger joint. But it was right next to my campground and I was curious to see what it was about. From the outside, it looked like a restaurant from the opening credits of the Jetsons. But on the inside, it was a hip little place. There was a small dining room area and a bar. I sat at the bar and ordered a “Polygamy Porter” (It’s Utah. I get the feeling that the beer brewers here have a contentious relationship with the Mormon dominated government and vent that angst through their often hilarious beer names).

I struck up a conversation with the gentleman serving me, Michael. He was part owner of the establishment and after a few words, he asked me if I wanted a tour of the place. He’d just become an investor, canceling his plans to move to St. Croix to instead try his luck as a restaurateur in Moab. He walked me around to show me his work in progress, which was a large outdoor bar in the back and a big patio area. 

Michael at The Atomic

The best part about the place was the menu. The other owner (erstwhile solo owner, and now partner with Michael) is a gourmet chef named Tim. As Michael showed me around the place I notice photos of people like Anthony Bourdain and Emeril standing next to this guy I didn’t recognize.  I then found out that the guy in the pictures was Tim, the other owner.  Their menu had some incredible looking stuff. I went for the “buffalo meatloaf and pasta”. They know what they’re doing.

They had a band that night. An Americana style quartet that the aforementioned owner, Tim, played harmonica in. I’d eaten good, I’d gotten a tour. And then I met these fellow travelers who turned out to be knuckleheads like myself. Their names are Bill and Randy, but by the end of the night their names were "Anthrax Bill" and "Woody Harrelson with a Smaller Head".

Bill and Randy

So, it was a fun last night in Moab. Even though I didn’t get to do all the riding I had hoped to do, I still had a lot of fun here. As I've said before, the best part about traveling like this is all the people you meet. If you ever visit, do not miss The Atomic and say hello to Michael, and definitely eat something.

The next morning, I hit the road again. My ultimate destination was a 14-hour drive, but I split it into two days to give myself an extra rest day. I spent a night at the halfway point, which was Elko, NV. Not much to speak of here, unless you like Casinos. The drive itself was beautiful, but really windy. I passed the Great Salt Lake and many miles of desert and salt flats. My little car was getting blown around a bit, so even though the speed limit for much of the drive was 80, I was going granny-speed. Then, the following morning I headed out to my new home for the week, which is the coolest little town I think I’ve ever been in. I’ll tell you all about it next time. Thanks for reading!

The Great Salt Lake. See the people waaaay out there?

Moab, Utah

Sidewalk Art in Moab. Or is this Captain Jimerica?

Day 1: Pipeline and Deadhorse Canyon - 

The terrain I’ve ridden in each destination has all had it’s own little twist. Brevard, NC was somewhat like what I was used to up in PA/NY/NJ, except much bigger. Santa Fe had a lot of woods, but it added slippery pebbles, sand, lizards, and thin air. Sedona was similar to Santa Fe, but much bigger, wide-open views, towering stone structures, and longer trails with more challenging down hills. What Moab brings is all of these things is the little twist that they seem to really love to carve bike trails into shear cliffs. This Jimerica! is not used to. I’m a pretty good rider (not great), but cliff side riding with little room for error isn’t my bag (see: Bo from Atlanta). I learned this quickly when I did my first ride on the Pipeline trail. Some of the trail was fine, but other sections were just stressing me the hell out. It’s hard to concentrate on the trail when your brain is fixated on the great big drop 8 inches from your tire. Fortunately, there is plenty of riding here that isn’t cliff side, or at least the cliffs are minimal.

One of those places is Deadhorse Canyon State Park, the place irritating people go to beat a point to death as well as those who like beautiful views and non-existential-threat mountain biking. Here are a few shots from there:

On the road to Deadhorse

View from the Deadhorse parking area

Yes

I crashed in a most stupid and unnecessary way about 1 minute after taking this picture:

I was completely alone here too. Nothing but me and the breeze.

I still rode another 2 hours, but was really sore the next day because of my new handlebar chest imprint (Congratulations, Josh Straub). So, I decided I would spend Day 2 on foot in Arches National Park (looking at you, Becky Brenner).

Day 2:

The Grand Canyon dominates the narrative of things to see in this part of the country, and for good reason. However, places like Sedona and Moab allow you to get up close and personal with the landscape in a way that the Grand Canyon cannot. After visiting the Grand Canyon and Sedona, I thought that Moab really couldn’t offer me anything that different, although more of the same would have been fine by me. But Moab is unique. It’s a massive area with parks like Arches, Deadhorse, and Canyonland. My new habit of cursing in amazement under my breath at the sites I’m seeing has not subsided here. I've honestly ridden off the sides of trails due to being distracted by the view. The photos I’m about to post really don’t do these places justice. I guess the best way to put it is that you’re seeing the photos as humans, but when you’re here, you feel more like an ant. Here’s some shots:

Double Arch. See the people climbing beneath?

Balanced Rock

I was stuck here for 127 seconds. I had to cut a fingernail off to escape.

Beneath Double Arch.

This is the very end of the about 1 hour hike to Delicate Arch. It's about as cool as it looks.

A shot of Delicate Arch with people under it to give you some perspective.

See the bird?

This isn't a landmark or anything, but I see a face.

And as if that isn’t enough, they have petroglyphs:

These were left by the Native American Ute Tribe. This particular marking is of a Native American on horse back with goats and dogs. They don't know exactly how old it is, and can only say that it was created sometime between 1620 and 1850.

As for the town of Moab, I’m not one for roaming streets window-shopping, which seems to be the thing to do during non-park exploring time. There is a plethora of crappy t-shirt joints and tchotchke shops. But people don’t come here for the shopping. There are a couple cool cafes for breakfast. Love Muffin is my favorite. They have great coffee and breakfast wraps. As for my habit of checking out some of the local breweries, it’s a bit difficult here due strange beer laws.  All of the draft beer is about 3.5% ABV, which impacts the flavor. The really weird part is that although the law controls the ABV of draft beer, full strength beer bottles and cans are totally legal, as well as liquor. So, just strange. In any case, they have only one brewery here, which is appropriately named The Moab Brewing Company. Good food, nice atmosphere, and the bar tenders know everything you could want to know about the area. As for good Utah brews (in bottles), look for beers made by Wasatch, and ones made by Squatters. However, do not buy these in a gas station or a grocery store. Buy them at a bar, otherwise you get the 3.2% variety that just isn't very good.

Day 3 (writing this blog)

I’m currently taking a day off from hiking/biking. I managed to bruise my ribs on that aforementioned stupid little crash two days ago, which will need a few more days to heal.

Finally, I was told that I needed more selfies on my blog. I agreed to selfie. Singular. No smile. Yes, I'm mean mugging. You'll accept it and like it. I consider this matter closed.

Thanks everybody for reading. I still have a couple days here in Moab, so you might see a brief update in a couple days. Otherwise, the next time you'll hear from me will be from the next super secret location. I hope you are all well. Thanks for reading.