After riding 1,000 miles, I was having mixed emotions about reaching the California border. Part of me never wants the adventure to end, while another part of me was excited to be rounding the corner and making my way back to friends and family. The burden of this inner conflict didn’t last long though. Heavy storms were bearing down on the coast, enormous and ancient redwoods evaporated any self-perceived grandeur, and thousand-foot elevation climbs along shoulder-less ocean cliff-side literally took my breath away. In between the trials and challenges, candid campfire stories, rain-soaked tents, and colorful conversation with strangers put the experiences in perspective. Did I mention I went to the emergency room? First things first, there were two 1,000 ft. elevation climbs between the Oregon-California border and my next campsite.

The day started early and my bags were full of good food and moral boosting candy bars. While I was nervous about the hills, I was looking forward to one of my favorite tourist traps, “The Trees of Mystery”. Conveniently positioned between the two climbs, I could preoccupy myself with the humor of Babe’s enormous anatomical correctness and the fantastic American Indian museum. I was surprised by the lack of enthusiasm from some of the other riders. I decided that if you can’t find the humor in someone taking the time to build a fifty foot Paul Bunyan and a fifty foot Babe with giant blue balls, then your gaze was far too narrow.

Surprisingly, the climbs came and went. Sweat poured down my face and my legs burned, but this was hardly different than any other day of my trip. Before I knew it I was at the top of the second hill. Easily one of the highlights of my trip, I spent the next five to six miles flying downhill through enormous redwoods. With very little traffic, I rode down the middle of the road and gazed up at the canopy that appeared to be hundreds of feet above me. I flew by a sign that labeled one particular tree “Big Tree”. I laughed out loud. Whoever named that tree was a comedic genius.

That night, camp was social and full of good stories. Sven, Brie, and Max all joined me around the campfire and we ended the night with our famous ukulele and harmonica renditions of John Prine songs. A light mist began to fall as the fire burned out. Feeling like I had conquered one of the more difficult days California had to offer, my eagerness for optimism would soon be eroded by rainstorms, bug bites, allergic reactions, and a visit to the ER in Garberville…