“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” --Albert Camus
“The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow.” --Thomas Paine
I rose from sleep early on the morning of the 22nd and headed down to the small store and cafe near my campsite. It was only about 6:30 and the place didn't open until 8 am. I had a nice long talk with a fellow camper about everything I'd seen and experienced on the trip and she told me a little about life in San Francisco. When the cafe opened I ate a nice breakfast to fuel myself for the 40 miles to Tamarack Flat Campground while my new friend headed off to do some hiking. I took off around 9:30 and was enjoying the ride until I came upon a traffic snarl. There was a highly inefficient road crew painting the lines on a new stretch of road and we were stuck in a (not particularly scenic) part of the road. I arrived at Tamarack Flat to find the campground full. I'd kind of expected that and had a backup plan to ask a camper there if I could give them some money and camp out on the same site. There weren't many people hanging about the campground but I found a very friendly couple from the UK. They'd already given a couple from Mexico City on motorcycle permission so things were a bit tight but there was quite enough space for all of us. They wouldn't accept payment, though, so I got a free place to stay the night! The couple from the UK was heading out just as I arrived but the Mexican couple offered me some of their mac and cheese and then we all went on a hike together. They'd just started their journey and were planning quite the elaborate trip taking them all over the place but ending up in Alaska. El Capitan was a 12 mile round trip and it was mid afternoon when we took off so we only went a couple of miles before turning around. They planned to make the full hike the following morning before heading off to San Francisco. We returned and hung about the campsite for a couple of hours before our hosts returned from Glacier Point. I wished I'd known that's where they were going as I'd have asked if I could come along. We enjoyed sharing travel stories and other conversation while our campfire burned until about 10 o'clock. I had a 100 mile day tomorrow to Modesto so I went to sleep quickly.
The following morning I wanted to leave early. Even though most of the trip was downhill I knew from previous experiences that 100 miles was still 100 miles and there would be some decent uphill stretches from time to time. I stopped at a convenience store just outside of Yosemite and grabbed a coffee and a bite of breakfast. The ride was beautiful and since I was going downhill I got to enjoy it without the physical exertion. The 29 miles before Oakdale were pretty intense, though, and there were no services between Chinese Camp and there. The golden hills of California were gorgeous but I was starting to get really thirsty by the time I pulled into Oakdale. I had 15 miles to go before hitting Modesto but I let Robyn know I was getting pretty close. On arriving in Modesto I breathed a sigh of relief. But when I typed the address in I found it was almost 9 miles from where I was. I hadn't banked on Modesto being such a big place. Grumbling a bit, I pedaled off and made it to the Heisel residence at about a quarter past 5. Took a load off, relaxed for a few minutes, got cleaned up and enjoyed a delicious dinner of meatloaf.
I started getting uneasy the following morning as I copied the turn by turn directions onto a piece of notebook paper. I was used to taking one or two highways the entire way to my destination. To get to the West Oakland BART station required about 4 different freeways. Nevertheless, I set out to get on the first major stretch. When I arrived at the on-ramp to CA-99, I was dismayed to find a sign saying bicycles were not permitted. So I pulled up the cycling directions on Google Maps and started heading down that route. It was almost 10 am at this point (I hadn't left the house until 8:30.) and then I ran across an unpaved road. I didn't know how many times this might happen and was worried about arriving in San Fran after dark so I got back in touch with Robyn and decided to stop in at the local bike shop to get help with directions for the following day. The owner essentially advised me to simply utilize the directions from Google Maps. Spent the rest of the day relaxing.
The following morning I left the house at about 6:30 am, excited to be finished. The cycling route was about 87 miles to the BART station which I would use to cross the bay. From the Embarcadero station it was about 7 miles to the beach. I'd gone about 25 miles and reached the outskirts of Tracy when my front tire went flat. I angrily replaced the tube (took about 25 minutes) and got back on the road. The angriest I'd been on the whole entire trip came next. I'd ridden 2 or 3 more miles when my back tire went flat. I don't think I'd ever been that angry in my entire life. I had no more inner tubes with me. It took me a good 10 or 15 minutes to calm down to where I could make a decision about what to do. I called Robyn and asked if she could stop by the bike shop and run a couple of tubes out to me. She did and I was able to get back on the road around 12:15. For the whole rest of the ride the headwinds were strong and unrelenting. There was one more mountain called the Altamont just before I would reach Livermore. My pace was reduced to probably 5 miles/hour for a couple of miles on that road. In fact, on reaching Livermore around 4:30 I seriously considered calling my friends, the Watts, and staying a night in Livermore, finishing on Monday. But I knew I would just feel amazing if I finished the whole entire thing that day and rested afterwards. And I knew Monday morning would be a bad time to try to get into the city. So I kept going. I was so happy to reach the BART station and get into San Francisco proper. I last few miles were agonizingly long. There are some intense hills in the city and I expected to see the beach as I approached each and every crest. When I finally saw the ocean I was so, so happy. The sun was in the West and sunset was fast approaching and people on the streets likely looked at me funny as I pedaled giddily towards the beachfront. On reaching the sand, I eagerly picked up Fledge and ran the few hundred feet to the water's edge not caring how sandy my shoes were getting. And then I was there. I stood in the surf, my shoes getting completely soaked, with a broad grin on my face while others looked on the maniacal scene. I flagged down a beach walker, explained what I'd just finished and smiled as she snapped pictures on my cameras. It was all over. 3 months to the day. 12 states. More than 3,000 miles. I didn't cry like I thought I would. I was so tired but so, so happy. The hardest thing I'd ever done in my life. But I'd done it. A cashier from Walmart. A guy who'd never set a goal and seen it through to completion. Except for this. I don't have any more words now. In fact I think the scope of this achievement eludes even myself. I can scarcely take in the whole experience as a unified whole that's able to be commended or celebrated. Nevertheless, the fact remains that this is a tremendous achievement and I saw it all the way through.
I am so proud of you, Wes.
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