Day 11: Cambria to Kirk Creek

Tuesday April 17, 2012

42 miles (68 km) – Total so far: 286 miles (460 km)

So the day has finally come. Once again I need to leave behind my beautiful wife.   No more fabulous hotels and wonderful meals.   No more laughing and sharing our lives together.

Once again it’s time for me to ride off on my own.   I admit that this morning I was having many second thoughts. “I could just stay with her, right?”.  “No need to do this crazy solo ride”.

But I was committed, so I loaded up the bike and prepared to head out.

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All packed up ready to leave the Blue Dolphin Inn.

It was with a heavy heart that I ride north out of Cambria. I will always remember the few days I got to spend there. I rode past the Hearst Castle, San Simeon Village, and the elephant seal sanctuary, and I confess my heart was really not in it. I seriously considered stopping and calling Nancy to come fetch me.

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I passed the Piedras Blancas Light Station.The Piedras Blancas Light Station was completed in 1875. The original tower is 100 feet tall and houses a first-order Fresnel lens. In 1876 a two-story Victorian style dwelling and a storage building were added. The station was operated by US Lighthouse Service until 1939 when the Coast Guard assumed command. Structural damage to the tower and new technology eventually replaced many of the functions of the light keepers as they became automated. Now its managed by the BLM. No public access is allowed, and I’m not really sure what will come of it.

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Hmmm. That was interesting enough that I kept pedaling. The landscape became a little more interesting, as the flatland of Cambria gave way to some gently rolling hills. Before long I began to feel a little more chipper, as the siren song of my wheels on the road and the view of the landscape ahead began to tug at my emotions. What lies around that next corner? I’m not certain, but I’m certain I’d like to find out……..

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The road sings it’s siren song, and I can but heed it

It wasn’t more than a few additional miles when the landscape suddenly changed. Instead of gently rolling hills, I was suddenly climbing a serious hill. 12 MPH gave way to 8 MPH gave way to 4 MPH and I found myself pulling up a darn good hill. I huffed and puffed for a good 45 minutes and as I neared the summit, I noticed a turn-out on the left and bunch of cars parked in it. Maybe something worth looking at? I crossed the road, climbed out of my seat and strolled over to the fence to take a look……Wow! Look at that!

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THe view from the top of that first big climb, Wow!

Suddenly I’m not in the same place I thought I was. This is like the views you see in all those Hollywood movies of drives up the coast. This is the real thing! I’m really here!

All thoughts of staying behind have left my head completely now. I want more of this. Much more! Re-energized, my feet fly as I ride up and down the hills. And hills there are..there is nothing gentle about these hills anymore. Steep hills and fast descents are the order of the day.

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A milestone. Exiting San Obisbo County into Monterey County.

 

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My bike appears to have only two speeds. 3 MPH as I crawl up the steep slopes, and 30 MPH as I rush down the opposite side. Those long, slow climbs give me a chance to look around. The obvious place to look is to my left at the stunning ocean views. But looking to my right reveals some amazing beauty as well. The road is festooned with wild flowers, and there is water flowing everywhere. Its no wonder that this road is besieged with wash-outs and rock slides, there are streams, waterfalls and rivulets of water on every hillside.

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The ride continued on like this for several hours. Talk about a cycling high. I kept stopping to take photos, but I know the photos will never really convey how astoundingly beautiful this scenery is.

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By around noon, I reached the small town of Gorda. This place was originally settled by native Indian tribes because of the natural springs located nearby. Now it is famous for having the highest gas prices in the United States. I didn’t notice the gas prices when I was there. I just wasn’t thinking about it….But I did pay $21 for a not very good cheeseburger and a can of diet soda. Then back on the bike and into more hills.

Eventually, just over the crest of yet another tremendous hill, I spotted the sign for the Kirk Creek Campground. I pulled in, registered for the $5.00 hiker biker site, and headed over to set up camp. Kirk Creek is the prettiest camp ground I have ever encountered.   It is situated on a bluff on the west side of the highway. Literally every single camp site has a magnificent ocean view. It is extremely popular. The camp host told me that most of the summer season has already been reserved. Luckily – hiker/biker sites are first come/first served – so I snagged mine in time to enjoy it!

It’s a not a luxurious camp. First, there is no electricity or hot water. You can take a shower if you want, but its pretty darn cold. Also, the water is not drinkable. If you need to, you can boil it for a few minutes to kill off whatever buggers are in there.

This was actually a problem. I had planned on refilling my water at Kirk Creek. I was pretty low and I needed water with dinner, as well as for tomorrow’s ride. Luckily, a little judicious begging from the campers in big RV’s with expensive water filtration systems yielded a full water bladder in short order.

Exploring the campground a little, I ventured down a path at the south end of the camp. This little path, lined by wildflowers on both sides, wanders down along the course of the Kirk Creek – hence the name of campground – until it flows into the ocean at a small rocky beach.

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The actual Kirk Creek
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View at the bottom of the trail and the small rocky beach

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The beach reminded me a lot of boyhood times I had spent with my family on the coast of Maine. Big rocks, crashing surf, and the smell of salt and kelp in the air. I lingered there with those memories for a while, before climbing back up to camp. As it started to get dark, I admired the sunset from the cliff ledge only a few feet from my tent.

Camped next to me were a young couple – Sarah and Dave. I wondered over to introduce myself and chat for a bit. They had driven up from San Francisco with their mountain bikes loaded up on their car. Just a few miles north of the campground, they had been caught in a rock slide. The gas tank on their car had been ruptured and they were stranded. They arranged to have their car towed back to Monterey. They then took their camping gear, loaded it into their backpacks, and rode their mountain bikes to the campground. They had been there for several days, and were planning to bike back to Monterey, beginning the next day. What an amazing story!

They also warned me about the raccoons.   Apparently, the raccoons have learned to find food wherever the campers hide it. Most people lock their food in their cars/campers. But in the hiker/biker sites, we have no such option. The campground provides a food locker at each campsite. But Sarah and Dave had learned that the raccoons know how to open them. They advised me to close it with a zip tie. Luckily I had a couple of equipment ties, and I used a complicated knot that I think a raccoon without thumbs would have difficulty with.

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Boy scout skills at work. No raccoon should be able to pick this lock.

 

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My camp for the night. Ocean views out my front door.

There is no cell phone service on this part of the coast. So with darkness upon me, and with no way to call home to wish Nancy good night, I crawled into my tent. I thought back on this amazing day. I replayed the scenes from the ride, and I began to dream about what was going to happen tomorrow…..