I try my hand at farming............yeah.....farming.

BUT ALAS!! I'm not dead! 

Sorry for the radio silence, but up here in the mountains reception is a bit on the temperamental side.  Yes, folks, I'm in Big Sur...well...some call it Little Sur, as it's just the very beginning at the tippy top, just south of Carmel.  Either way...it's magical.  I think where I left off last was that we were plowing out of Santa Cruz after 4 glorious days with the Chavez Co-op.  They were such fantastic people...magnetic.  So magnetic in fact that Santa Cruz just scooted to the top of the list on places I might want to live...someday...not super soon.  Either way, on a whim, we decided to not stay in Santa Cruz for potential forest raves or street parties, and instead caught a ride with a few folks, the first being a Chavez house member named Chris.  He took us back to a highway 1 on ramp and shortly we were picked up by 2 young guys from the area heading to Santa Barbara.  It was the first truly awesome hitch we got because all conversation was kept at a minimum due to the overwhelming and rhythmic vibrations of dubstep blaring through the speakers.  I don't remember their names or much else, but we definitely connected on a musical level and any and all awkwardness was staved off...Maggie likey.  Unfortunately they weren't planning on taking highway 1 all the way to Santa Barbara, meaning they wouldn't be going through Carmel, where the wwoof we were headed to was located (or so we thought).  The guys dropped us off at a restaurant called "The whole enchilada" and with a name like that it sounded right up our alley and in a price range we could afford...unfortunately we were wrong and decided to walk around back to the greasy spoon for a late breakfast.  We also spied a really cheat fruit stand and we loaded up on all the (not so) fresh fruit we could carry, then made our way back to hitch hiking.  We weren't on an actual on ramp so we knew our chances were less than good, but eventually a guy with a tiny (and messy) pick up picked us up and told us he'd take us to Castroville (THE ARTICHOKE CAPITAL OF THE WORLD!!!) Where we could catch people coming in from San Jose heading south.  I think his name was John...a real nice guy...tried to give us the low down on hitching and where all the best "spots" are, most men who pick us up seem to know better than us about hitch hiking and are real loose lipped with the info.  For a while we were welcoming the advice, but now it's annoying...and they are usually wrong.  So after informing me that he went to prison in Minnesota (a total fluke, brought on totally by his relocation to said state) he dropped me and Tamara off at a 76 station next to an on ramp with absolutely no shoulder.  See what I said...they are you usually wrong.  We waited and waited and I waved and kept saying loudly to cars as they passed "but we're so friendly!!"  I mean waiting and waiting really only totaled about 30 minutes, but for us that's garbage.  Finally a guy named Matt...BIG GUY...with a flatbed truck picked us up.  He told us he felt sorry for us because no one would pick us up on that ramp, no damn shoulder.  Apparently his girlfriend, who we later found out was actually is EX-girlfriend, used to follow the dead, so he knows all the tricks and blah blah blah blah...macho bullshit.  Anyways...he took us into Marina (we would later learn of the Marina dump, but I'm getting ahead of myself).  Upon dropping us off he pointed due south and said we had to walk about mile to a mile and half through town, over a hill and under bridge and then we'd meet back up with the 1 and that would be a PERFECT spot to try and get a ride.  So...here was this guy, who told us he passed us and then turned back around to pick us up, drove us 15 or so miles, only to drop us off 1.5 miles from where we could get a ride and he called that a favor??  I realize we can't really be choosey and we have no right to complain, but if this is peoples idea of "giving us a hand" or "doin' us a favor" then...perhaps we should be a bit more choosey.  We hauled on our packs, which for the first 15 steps always feels really amazing and awesome, like you're about the conquer Everest or some shit, and then the reality that you're carrying 50 lbs. of bullshit for a serious stretch sets in and you just wanna throw the pack down, soak it with lighter fluid and set that fucker ablaze.  But of course, we didn't, we trudged on, past the strip malls, past the brown, bleek landscape, past the creepy pack a transients who say "see you later girls" and then laughed...and with a bit of speed now...we came across a shopping cart and began wheeling our shit in that.  Now, I'm sure it looked like we were crazy, homeless, bag ladies, but I had to admit, if I was indeed, a crazy, homeless, bag lady, the shopping cart is the way to go.  All the square footage of storage, put on easily rolling wheels, WITH a convenient bottom rack for heavier, awkward items.  Kudos and two claps for the homeless guy in San Fran who nearly hit me on the sidewalk that I originally sassed for riding a shopping cart down the path, but now, sir...I see the light.  

True to his word, though, Matt was correct.  Once we got "the spot" we managed to get picked up right away by a guy named Joe, who for lack of a better word, was eccentric.  I don't know what it is about people who pick up hitch hikers, but most of them lack the space to actually pick people up.  Joe was no exception, his car was jammed full of shit, looked like he worked (and maybe lived) out of his car, only having 1 available seat didn't stop him from picking us up, OH NO!!  I shoved what I could to the far side of the back seat and stacked my pack and Tamara's pack on my lap, while Tamara navigated the conversation up front.  I allowed myself to be the sardined into the back because I knew it would only be a short ride to Carmel.  Joe let us off in Carmel proper (read: "Judgementville")  We sat upon a bench outside the grocery store and for the first time realized we didn't really have anywhere to go or anywhere to stay.  We left under the assumption that en route our wwoofing host, Lloyd, would call us and tell us where we could meet him to be picked up.  Turns out we probably shouldn't assume.  Last Lloyd heard from us was that were would be raving the night away for the better part of the weekend.  So...there we were...in the middle of a town Clint Eastwood was the mayor of for 2 years, with all our worldly possessions strapped to our backs, and no fucking idea what we were going to do.  After a few minutes stewing, a young man with Downs syndrome approached me and informed me that, despite having been sitting there for the last 20 minutes and the bench being unoccupied prior, that I did, in fact take his seat.  It was about then that I decided, even with no place to go, we should probably be on the move in this here town, something was telling me that Carmel didn't take kindly to dirty, vagabond-ish, rogues loitering in their shopping areas.  It was the extra E thrown on the end of words it had no business caboozing on that was the last straw, "The ShoppES at Carmel" and other such phonetic abominations...I wanted to throw myself out of Carmel, just as much as Carmel wanted to throw me out.  After a few minutes spent at a cafe, in which I resumed my longstanding roll as the elephant in the room no one talks about, but gets smiled at nervously a lot...co-starring Tamara McLeod, that we decided we'd head for Carmel River State Beach.  We knew it would be illegal for us to camp there overnight, but it was our only option.  We soon discovered that in order to get there we would have to walk through the entire town of Carmel, through the little shopping district, through the quant little neighborhood with Hansel and Gretel-esque houses, past stunned joggers who again flash us those nervous smiles only rich yuppies seemed to have mastered.  A woman driving a very nice luxury car actually stopped and asked us if we were lost.  I almost just brushed her off, but then I realized we were and decided to get directions.  The conversation went as follows:

Lady: ARE YOU GIRLS LOST?!

Me: Nooooooaaaaaahhhhctually...do you know how to get to the state park?

Lady: Oh, yeah Carmel River State Park? Sure you go down...wait...you do know there's no overnight camping, right? Yeah...of course you do...you're just going for the day!!"

Me: :::UNRESPONSIVE BLANK STARE::::

Lady: Yeah, ok well you just go blahblahblahyakyakyakimcallingthepoliceblahbleeeeeblooo, (trails off and drives away)

So yeah...let's see, here we are, the sun is setting, we are carrying far more than your average "day use park goer", about 47 lbs. more I'd say, looking exhausted and haggard from traveling, with a storm about to set in...yeah.....we're just going to experience the park in the last sliver of daylight, then we'll be hopping back into our invisible yacht and setting sail for Atlantis.  She really talked herself right into believing we were anything other than what we were.......squatters.   

"HI, WELCOME TO CARMEL, NOW GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE WE CALL THE COPS! THANKS BYE!"

We eventually did find the beach, hoping we could nestle in somewhere inconspicuous for the night, but the beach is like RIGHT NEXT to peoples houses and my spidey senses were alerting me to potential forceful removal by police escort.  So we pressed on down the road a bit in hopes of finding a more secluded spot.  We did encounter a few people on the way who were more than willing to point us to a place near the highway where we were from, people when they asked us where we would be sleeping that night only paused for a brief moment when we said we didn't know before pointing us in the direction of some trees, or a bush, or a schoolyard, or....whatever...I'm not saying they should have taken us in like stray pups off the street and made us cocoa, but...well if we had been in Oregon, I'd be telling about how we were put up at a cute B and B, given hand made clothes stitched with love by the hosts themselves and the next day given the key to the city, but alas...we were in Carmel, California and so we walked across the soon to be engulfed by the tide eddy of beach to a little spot off a walking path.  I'd be lying if I told you we weren't in plain view of several houses along the beach, but I'd also be lying if I told you I gave a flying fuck.  We swiftly set to pitching my newly procured 2 man tent before the storm hit and nestled into bed...time check...6:30pm.  The ground was really just sand so I wasn't able to actually stake down the rainfly so when the storm finally hit we were whipped repeatedly by the flailing rainfly...perfect.  We ate the rest of the fruit and tried to read and forget that we were in this situation.  We fell asleep about 7 only to wake up roughly 2 hours later wondering what the hell we would do now.  Sooooooooo...we read some more of our books, got pelted by the fly again and again, until we fell asleep again for the last time that night.   You would think that falling asleep so early would mean we would be like ninjas, getting up early, breaking camp and leaving before anyone had any inclination of us being there, but we are just not cut out for this stealth camping and were woken up by the voices of people using the jogging path...yeah...NINJAS! We sluggishly got all our shit packed up and headed for the only landmark we knew in the area in the hopes that, Lloyd our wwoof host would know where it is and pick us up.  Thankfully Lloyd answered and knew the landmark we were headed for and so we were saved!! Yay!!

The sun shined down while we waited for our ride

This was just outside out tent spot, we found it the next day...thank god.

Roughly 30 minutes later Lloyd picked us up in his red Mazda with his Chow, Winston.  Lloyd was super nice and chatted us up on the way to his house, up on a mountain a few miles south of Carmel.  We took a left onto Palo Colorado road and delved into a grove of eucalyptus trees that turned into Redwoods in the canyon at the based of the mountain.  2 miles of winding mountain road later and we popped out nearly at the top, next to Lloyd's house with a SWEEEEEEET view...like a "you can see the curve of the earth from this view" view.  Slack jawed awe and inarticulate vowel noises were about all I could manage for the first few minutes...me...rendered speechless...I know you all can't imagine it, but try.

This is my view...for real.

Watchin' them mountain/ocean views

Lloyd giving us the low down on the sitch

We settled in for a longer stay, knowing this would be AWESOME...I guess now is a good time to explain to those of you who don't know what I've been referring to when I say "wwoofing" is all about...wwoofing comes from WWOOF which stands for Willing Workers On Organic Farms or World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms.  Basically you pay to be a member of this site and you apply to go live and work on farms in exchange for housing and food.  The work varies from farm to farm, and sometimes the farms can be sketchy, but for the most part it's a really great way to experience a new place and travel with minimal cost...AND YOU LEARN STUFF!!  Lloyd is a font of knowledge, very eager to explain this or that or something else...showing us knots, telling us about the plants species or animal life or personal philosophies and so forth. After a month or so of not being accountable to anything or anyone, after a month of doing what I want, when I want, without a set schedule, Lloyd's was a bit of a shock to the system.  Took me a few days to get into a swing of waking up earlier than normal (the expectation being that I wake up at dawn...still haven't really done that...ooops) For the most part Lloyd has been a good sport about it all and hasn't brought the hammer down too hard. We spent halloween with him and his neighbors driving the kids up the mountain in a big long caravan...I even dressed up...a bit makeshift, but whatever.

Tamara as a clown and me as Bobo the Blue-nosed bear.

Tamara added the makeup just as we were leaving...damn good job.

 We spent the night in the back of Lloyd's truck bed that was covered in straw (taken from the duck pen...poo anyone?) talking with an overly verbose 13 year old I wanted to strangle by the end of the night.  The incessant talking I could handle, I could even handle the impromptu game of Truth or Dare? she prodded us into playing, JUST THE 3 OF US, what I could not handle was the volume at which this pubescent girl talked (read: screamed) at...it was if, knowing we were older, that she felt the need to crank up the ol' voice box.  I realize that 26 seems, like, so...like...old and, like, whatever...but I'm decades away from setting my appointment with the kind folks of Miracle Ear, but thank you for trying.

One of the many rides the upper orchard in the truck

This is getting a bit long, but suffice it to say that the experience at "Merlin's Perch", that's what Lloyd calls his property, has been a fun one, but we are ready to move on.  Our restless, traveling hearts are set on moving on. I've also learned that farming isn't necessarily my cup of tea...the early hours, the seemingly endless work, work that involves heavy lifting, dirt in your underwear, sleeping with mice scurrying near my head...no despite my broad frame and physical stamina (Pfffft...) Maggie McDonald is no farm hand.

Taking in the view from my "patio"

Also, I think Lloyd has grown accustomed to a certain schedule and regimen and having 2 defiant and some what lethargic girls who don't wake up until well after dawn over take his bubble was probably somewhat jostling.  So with that in mind we will be heading off tomorrow, after working of course, to camp for the night at the Little Sur Campground, and then the next day me and Tamara will rock hop up the river to find the natural hot springs.  We've been talking about the hot springs in Big Sur since Oregon, so we hope to be dazzled.  After soaking in the natural springs for a day or so we'll be headed back to the 1 in hopes of a ride south.  Maybe we'll stay in Santa Barbara, maybe we'll just cruise to L.A.  I'm not really sure, but we definitely have to be in L.A. by no later than the 16th because Tamara has a plane ticket out to NYC for a week to visit her true love she met while trekking in Nepal...oh yes...her true love.  More on THAT later, I'm sure.  When she jets off I'll probably catch a bus to San Diego to stay with 1/2 of the Mulvey sisters, Shaina and Ali...and of course their niece kitty, Sage Francis.  They are watching her while Lauren is in India.  Should be a fun reunion.  I'll ride the Mulvey wave until Tamara gets back or they kick me out...whichever happens first.  At which point me and Tamara have to crack down and really investigate our hearts about Mexico.  We've been researching getting to Mexico City and then traveling in the Yucatan and we like what we've seen, save for the drug cartels and beheadings going on at the border, but c'est la vie.  We'll manage.  The question is how to get there safely and on the CHEAP.  Rideshare? Bus? Fly? Hitch Hike? Who knows, but I'm confident my spanish will keep me out of trouble and navigate me around.  Fear not readers (mostly you Dad) I will not go into any situation I feel unsafe about and will trust the universe will push me in the right direction.

I know I've left out so much...like the huge 6'5 wwoofer dude who came to Lloyd's an hour after us only to leave the next day by taxi, claiming the remoteness of Lloyd's property was causing him "free floating anxiety" or the day we spent at the HORRIFIC dump in Marina followed up by a numbed out trip to the Aquarium, the juxtaposition...I tell you.  But I just can't keep going...I must retire and vow to not let so much time pass between blog posts.  I'll post a few more pics and then a link to my facebook albums...that way you can see ALLLLLLL the pictures.

ENJOY!!!

Maggie

This was a little sign at the aquarium where people could voice their suggestions about how to save the planet, this was one...I might have written USE LESS PAPER, but I thought it to be tacky.

Lloyd took us to the cliffs on the ocean for the sunset...it was awesome

Same trip to the cliffs...the sunsets were amazing

Lloyd:  "MAGGIE DON'T FUCK AROUND!!"

I climbed up this here rock (super sketchy) only to have a plane fly by to say "JOB WELL DONE!!"

On an adrenaline high after the crazy rock scaling

Pals...

Doesn't even begin to capture the sunsets here

The fog rolled into the canyon one morning...it was spooky cool

Jellyfish at the Monterey Aquarium...I was still in shock from the dump

I tried to really play the roll of farm hand accurately, riding on the outside of trucks was a tour de force.

"Jackasses in mirror are more useless than they appear"

Me, Lloyd and Tamara

Lloyd and his sweet puppy Bongo

Yet another amazing sunset...like the Neverending story

Yep....you bet I will.

Click the link for recent trip pictures!!

The Journey in Pictures

Santa Cruz = Saint Cross = Saint Jesus = Anarchistic Student co-op??

Hey Gang...so this is an entry about Santa Cruz that I totally forgot to post...so...even though it says we're in Santa Cruz and has details about where we're going next (where we are now) I thought I'd post it so you all get the idea and we keep this blog UP TO DATE!?!? So enjoy and I'll have an awesome entry, WITH PICTURES, for you in the next few days detailing what we've been up to since Santa Cruz....it's awesome...you'll love it.  YAY...friends forever!

Enjoy!

Marge

We're in Santa Cruz and have been for several days.  We landed here after Jose the friendly semi driver from Mexico gave us a ride.  We realized quickly that camping on the beach would have been out of the question as almost every bit of beach real estate here is being used and cops were quite frequent.  We found a 24 hour donut shop with wi-fi and got on couchsurfing.org right quick to find a place.  The guy behind the counter asked us if we knew about that website and after he said he was on there I asked him if he could put us up...he reacted less than enthusiastic, but what did he expect?  We were homeless and the only contact we had was the donut shop worker...needless to say he got off and slipped out of the shop without inviting us over.  Luckily a guy named Vee heeded our call and invited us to stay at his house.  It was about a mile and half walk from where we were and with huge loaded packs it got a bit taxing.  Fortunately we found it and were pleasantly surprised (and a smidge overwhelmed) to find out that this was a co-op house with 28 twenty somethings living within.  It's CRAAAAAAAAAAAAZY...it's like an urban, young, student anarchist intentional community.  So we've been here for 3 days now and I LOVE Santa Cruz.  It's a cool, smaller town, but with young progressive people.  Most of the young people around here go to UC-Santa Cruz which is an amazing campus up on the hill, buried in the redwoods.  I have a feeling I'll be back once the travel bug leaves my system, which is probably no time soon.  Since we've been here we've part taken in the communal dinners that the house has 6 nights a week, becoming apart of the co-op means you all buy food together and have free reign over the fridge.  Basically the rent is all inclusive, so far 5 or 6 of the people living here have asked us to stay and move in.  I'd seriously consider it....maybe...30 roommates is intense...but they are all really fucking cool.  We also got to partake in the weekly dumpster diving run that happens.  Basically they hit up a few of the local grocery stores and retrieve discarded goods that are still perfectly ok to eat.  We got about 200 pounds of bread.  It's no surprise that the house motto is "Toast is the most".  A bit of butter, toast and nutritional yeast...or NOOCH as the cool kids say...and you have a complete meal.  They are all fucking ga ga for the Nooch...it's pretty B.A.  We were also invited as guests on their pirate radio station...I may have rapped Salt 'n' Pepa's "Shoop" in it's entirety on-air...it was epic. We also got custom screen printed shirts from DJ Bry Bry...an image of a cat with the words "No Dogs, No Masters"  There are roughly 10 cats living in or around the Chavez co-op...and ironically 1 dog.  Toast Cats...Toast Cats...Vee actually has a tattoo of that for the house.  In-ter-esting... 

Sadly I think me and Tamara will be leaving tomorrow to head for Carmel to wwoof for a bit and then head to explore Big Sur...Santa Cruz is in my heart now and I will no doubt be back to explore living here.  Halloween will soon be upon us and we have yet to make plans, but Tamara is working hard on her costume...details to unfold later.

OOOOOOH!! And we ran into the Dutch boys, Jelle and Pim in downtown Santa Cruz, isn't that so exciting...and they are staying at the hostel right across the street from the house that we had no idea was there.  They only have 1 month left in the U.S. before they head back to Holland.  They only going to L.A. so they are going to take it REALLY slow and steady for the next month.  Perhaps we'll run into them again and I won't forget to ask for their e-mail addresses...which of course I still don't have.
Anyways...I'm off to sleep in the huge lofted nook for another night in this magical house of people.

From the road,

Maggie

Hitchin' thus far....

Hey Fans,

So I realized in my last post that I didn't include any photos and if you're like me, that kind of shit pisses you off.  So...to make up for it I'm posting some San Fran pics and some post-San Fran shenanigans that will bring you up to the moment.  I know you're all excited.  Let's go!

We went to the bike co-op in San Fran called the Bike Kitchen...that was went Tamara was still gonna ride a damn bike and wanted to fix up the freebie she got.  We had to do all the work, which was awesome cuz we learned a lot.  This is Bike Kitchen guy, Keith, helping Tamara with her derailer cables.

We were getting a bit rank so we did laundry in China town.  The dryers are massive and I made a comment about being able to fit a whole human inside...Tamara decided to test this and prove me right.  She got claustrophobic rather fast...duh.

We both decided if we lived in San Fran we'd want an apartment in Chinatown...probably over some bodega or produce market.  No nonsense with the Chinese culture...straight to the point. "YOU TRY IT, YOU LIKE IT, YOU BUY IT!!" said the lady trying to sell me grapes.  I didn't get the grapes, but I did buy some other fruit...delicious.  It was the only place in San Fran to get affordable food...another good reason to live there.

Plus they have cafes with my name written in them...what's not to love?

Little known secret about Chinatown...you can go see fortune cookies being  made.  This was the owner...his english was poor but he was really excited about us being so into the cookies being made.  He kept handing us rejected cookie blanks and was REALLY excited when I said hello in Chinese.  We're good pals.

Couldn't go to San Fran without hitting a gay club in the Castro.  Tamara's fake worked and we danced the night away at the Badlands.   It was a sausage fest, but we had fun.  Vincent and Joey and Miles...all bikers we met in Oregon, showed up too...which was hilarious.  They are all straight and Miles kept saying "I can't believe you invited me to a gay bar and there are no hot dudes" HILARIOUS

Oh hey...who's the hottest lady lover in this place?  

Yes we DID!

Leaving the hostel that put us up for free for a few days.  We weren't really into biking anymore, but we faked it anyways.

Officially back packers.  I found my pack for $2.50 at goodwill and Tamara found hers at another Thrift store...almost identical to mine, a day later.  This was MEANT TO BE!!

Reorganizing our lives in the catholic priest rectory in Daly City.  They put us up for 2 days while we tried to sell my bike in San Fran.  Father Labib, Father Yosef and Father Andrew are solid people...they thought we were lost souls and really tried to bring us into the flock, bless them...they know not what they do. My pack is the blue one to the right.  SEXY.

Me standing outside the rectory right before Father Yosef drove us to Half Moon Bay to work on a pumpkin farm.  It's really heavy.

This is Father Labib...we didn't ask to take his photo.

We worked for 3 hours...more or less on this farm, got paid and headed off.  We laid hay down in the maze...it was really muddy and neither of us had proper footwear.  Canvas shoes are a fashion statement...they are not sensible in any way.

After getting dropped off in Santa Cruz from a really kind trucker name Jose.  I tripped and fell shortly after this...it's just my way.  We had no home and no prospects for a place to sleep but look at how happy we are?

We got rejected from the hostel.  They wanted us to pay $28 bucks each.  We offered to clean some stuff in exchange for a room...the guy responded with "Yeah...this place is real square, a real babylonian establishment.  My boss doesn't dig that" he was a 60's throwback for sure and went into more detail than necessary about where we could camp for free...we both tuned him after he reference a patch of Cypress trees.

So far so good being a backpacker.  We made it into Santa Cruz proper and have a place to stay thanks to some scrabbling on Couchsurfing.org  (AMAZING WEBSITE)  This town seems really neat and I'm excited to explore it tomorrow.  Tamara will be picking up her contacts that her dad sent her from Canada and then the adventure continues to Big Sur...maybe some hot springs?  Then to L.A. and then SAN DIEGO...where I will have quite the reunion with the 1/2 of the Mulvey sisters.  Oh yay...I unfortunately missed my chance to see my best friend Sarah while she was in San Diego visiting Shaina...sad face.  Maybe we'll be reunited soon...MAYBE??!?! SARAH, I MISS YOU!!  California is about to be an after thought...plans are coming together regarding Mexico...I know you all are worried about this, but don't be.  The universe is guiding me and it feels right.  I'll follow the heart on this one and if it feels bad, rest assured I won't do it.  

I have my cell phone so if you're concerned or feel like you need to talk to me before any catastrophic disaster happens, please feel free.  I welcome your call...and I miss you!

Just keep walking.......

Marge

Some things have changed

Ahoy faithful readers,
Oh boy...I've put off writing this entry because I didn't (and still don't really) know how you tell you all this.  The ride a damn bike team of Maggie and Lani has been dissolved.  We all got to San Fran and after some careful deliberation decided that we weren't fit to tackle the next half of the trip together.  That's not to say we got into a huge, ugly fight and hate each other now...that's not it at all.  We came to a very, very (almost surprisingly) loving conclusion that, as travelmates, Lani and Me just weren't working.  I think for me, my needs and expectations for the trip are just different than Lani's...but that's not to say that one is better or worse...oh no...just different.

Tamara and I spent a few days in the hostel after her bike was stolen and decided that her and I wanted to continue on together...so the next day we said goodbye to San Fran and kept on going......only to have the skies open up on us and we were forced to stop in the suburb just outside of San Fran called Daly City.  We sat around and tried to figure out what we were going to do for about an hour until we came upon a Church carnival and decided to get dry and get our wits about us.  As it turned out Tamara wasn't super keen on riding her free bike, the same bike she was warned might break apart as she's flying down the 1, and I was feeling tired, but anxious to keep traveling.  After a lot of deliberation and soul searching we have decided to ditch the bikes and travel backpacker style the rest of the way.  We are still working on the pumpkin farm and going to explore Big Sur, en route to San Diego...it's just the means of getting there that has changed.

I know a lot of you are going to be all "WTF? I thought this was about riding a damn bike?" and maybe you're right, but I don't really agree.  My goal for this journey was to experience new things, rediscover myself and learn about the beauty that exists in this world and I have and I feel like all of that has lead me to this decision.  I don't feel like I'm giving up, mostly because I'm not, I'm still going to be traveling and am even more excited about where I will go, how I will get there and what I will do because now I will be even more mobile and "free".  I love to bike, it was so spiritual for me riding the 600 miles from Oregon to Northern California and I wouldn't trade that experience for anything, but the bike was always something I had to worry about and after a month of riding, it was wearing me down.  Tamara's bike being stolen was a wake up call and a gut check...I found myself almost wishing my bike had been stolen, just so I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.  I was constantly checking on it, tire pressure? chain lubed? brakes working? pannier attached? chain broken? I want to travel now and feel free to go anywhere and do anything and not have to worry about how I'm going to get 200 pounds of stuff there with me.

So that church I mentioned earlier, the one with the carnival, well we ended up talking to the priests that live in the rectory next door and they offered to let us stay a few nights to sort out the bikes and get out of the rain.  Father Labib (he's from Lebanon and such an amazing soul) has been absolutely amazing, always making sure we are well fed and cared for...it's really restored some of the my faith in the church...really it has.

Where is my bike?  Well...at the moment my bike is at Refried Cycles in San Francisco...they are going to try to sell it for me on consignment and then mail me a check.  If I can't sell it within a reasonable time frame...well then I'll figure that out later.  I have a feeling it'll work out though, I really do.  Tomorrow one of the Padres here will drive us to Half Moon Bay to the Arata Pumpkin farm...and then from there.....

WHO KNOWS!?!?

Tamara and I have applied to work on an organic farm in Mexico, like Wwoofing, but not...just working in exchange for food and lodging in central Mexico.  I'll let you know how that pans out.

I hope you all feel satisfied with my synopsis of the most recent events and will continue to read, as I'm sure the adventure is only beginning.  As for the name RIDE A DAMN BIKE...well...it still applies...you SHOULD ride a damn bike and went I land anywhere for any real amount of time, rest assured, I will be riding my damn bike again.  I love bicycling and the lifestyle that goes along with it...so the name shall remain.

The San Francisco treat...

Don't fear my friends...we aren't dead!
As some of you may have guessed from my posts on Facebook, we ARE in San Fran and YES we hitched here.  We were in Garberville, a weirdo hub of northern Cali and we just needed to get out.  We got just outside of city limits and decided to thumb a bit to see how far we could get.  After 40 minutes of really trying to get a ride we had all but given up until Mike the friendly (see: Creepy) truck driver pulled over and helped us out.

I don't know why, but the map always centers on Wyoming.  Click and drag it to the right to see our progress
View Ride a Damn Bike in a larger map

Turned out ol' Mikey was haulin' a load to L.A. and we could hitch with him to just about anywhere.  Our original goal was just to get to Legett where the 101 turns into the 1, but hell, it took us a good 30 minutes to load ourselves and our shit onto that truck so why not take us where we really wanted to go...SAN FRANCISCO??! We really deliberated for a while before we decided that yes, we did in fact want to drive 200 miles with a weird truck driver to San Fran.  It was pretty cool to be honest. I'd never been in a semi truck before.  They are smaller than they look, at least this one was.  It had the drivers seat and the passenger seat, which were quite cramped, but it also had a sleeper cab with storage and a bed, but no windows so when you were back there it was anyones guess at the scenery you were missing.  We all took turns in the front, battling with Mike's need to talk non-stop, I mean I can't blame him, he must get pretty bored driving 16 hours through the state, but still...let up a bit man. I was up there for a solid 2 hours...all the way through wine country and I'm not so sad we drove through it...it literally smelled like wine the whole way through, it was beautiful though.  From the seat of a car you drive these stretches that feel impossible on a bike, but when you're actually biking it, it feels like any other way is just wrong.  It was with much regret that we didn't actually bike it, but oh well...cuz we're HERE!!

 It was a culture shock to say the least.  At first you hit the outer suburbs and are accosted by the smell of fast food, grease and garbage.  I completely forgot what it was like to be in a large city.  This whole trip it's been tiny town after tiny town, but this was a full on assault to the senses coming down into Oakland....oh wait...I didn't tell you the best part.  Mike wasn't actually going into San Fran because we got of the 101, had we stayed on it we would have ridden right over the Golden Gate into San Fran, but time is money and we got onto a bigger freeway so he could just blow through...meaning we got dropped off LITERALLY on the side of the freeway in Oakland/Berkeley...we're not super sure where, but it was loud, it was dirty and it was freaky as hell.  We put our bikes back together and walked out bikes around a cloverleaf to get off the freeway (I mean the guy gets off the freeway twice to take a piss, but can't let us off at a proper exit?) Then we bike faster than I've ever biked before over a bridge with NO BIKE LANE OR SHOULDER and attempt to find our way to the BART station, which is the bay areas subway.  We had to take an elevator down the platform one at a time because they don't make the elevators very big, get on a train that isn't well equipped for fully loaded touring bikes, only to realize we took the wrong train and have to go back to where we started, transfer, take several more tiny, pee smelling elevators before we are dropped off in downtown San Francisco, at which point we have to bike to the Western Addition neighborhood of San Fran to Kyle, Lani's boyfriends, house.  With a bit of magic and my iPhone we made it.

We lugged our bikes up the steps and through his house to the "backyard", it's in quotes because yard would indicate that there is grass, something this area was lacking...it was a back slab...as in concrete slab, a very angled one at that.  Me and Tamara set up the tent and felt happy at knowing we could settle in for a few days.  Kyle and his roommates had some extra blankets and an extra sleeping pad that made the tent extra cozy and you could hardly tell we were sleeping on the hardest campsite to date.  I was feeling really tired, but definitely excited for what the next few days would bring.  My happiness bubble would soon be popped.  Kyle's roommate has a dog and despite being told that this dog comes off aggressive, but is actually harmless, ol' Kujo had his eye on Marge.  First he bit me on the arm, not breaking the skin, but leaving a gnarly bite shaped bruise on my arm.  I shrugged it off and assured the owner that I was fine and probably just scared the dog, no biggie.  Let me mention here that this dog is half black lab, half pitbull, in other words no fucking joke and despite my cool demeanor, I was pretty scared of this thing and not super keen on it just wandering around me all willy nilly. After some more casual conversation and food eating I excused myself to go into the back "yard" and go to bed, at this point Jango, that's the dog, gets all worked up AGAIN and bites me in the ass, this time breaking the skin and pissing me the fuck off. In less than 20 minutes that dog bit me twice, and the owners response is sheer dumbfoundedness, he just CAN'T BELIEVE his dog would do this.  I mean, it's totally normal for him to posture at people aggressively and growl, but NOT TO ACTUALLY BITE?? Bullshit...I found out later that the dog has bitten numerous people and that the owner must have a huge case of denial.  Despite all that I kept reassuring the owner that I was fine and that I'd be OK and that it'd be best if he just kept the dog away from me if that was possible.  The next morning I wake up, walk inside to use the bathroom and am chased out the front door by this malicious fucker barking and running after me.  I'm done...I want nothing to do with this dog and I need a new place to stay, but the problem is I have nowhere to go.  I don't really know anyone in San Fran and no one had gotten back to me on couch surfers.  I stuck it out a few more nights until Tamara finally heard back from a couch surfer.

We got offered to stay at Matt and Isabel's apartment in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood, which ended up being pretty close.  Off the bat I knew I was going to like them, they are bike people, I found out later Matt is a SICK fixed gear biker, who can do amazing tricks.  They opened up there little office to us, complete with fold out queen sized bed (COMFORTABLE).  Me and Tamara took it upon ourselves to explore the city via bus and on foot and SEE IT WE DID!  We basically just got lost and walked around until we ended up back at Matt and Isabel's place.  Turns out San Fran is pretty small and relatively easy to navigate on the bus...go San Fran.  We saw pier 39 with all the sea lions chillin', rode on a cable car for free because Tamara told the guy her sob story, took the bus up to the Golden Gate bridge and acted a damn fool.  The bus is REALLY fun actually, it's like you pay $2 and the city suddenly in the palm of your hand and since Tamara didn't have a bike it was a handy way to get all over town.

Tamara must have karma like a banshee because Matt offered her a free Specialized Crossroads bike that he found.  Granted it's quite rusty and not in the best shape, but it works and it has a rack already on it...the same rear rack I have on my bike in fact.  WAIT A MINUTE...why doesn't Tamara have a bike you ask?  Well...on one of our exploratory nights while we were still at the dogs house, we parked our bikes on Haight street, near Ashbury and during that time someone came over and clipped Tamara's cable lock and made off with her Kona.  I was sincerely sorry for her and in a bit of a panic over what she would do, but Tamara was shockingly OK with the whole thing.  She was giggling about it within minutes and only really sad when she realized that her hat, the one she had custom made in Nepal, was stolen along with the bike.  She was wishing the people who stole the bike well, hoping that the bike would help them get where they needed to go or give them much needed money...talk about non-attachment.  I really learned a lot from her and was grateful I got to experience such a beautiful moment.  She was downright light hearted when reporting the theft to the police and wished the dispatcher a lovely day when she was done.  The downside was the thought that Tamara would now be hitching or backpacking, while me and Lani went on without her, but Matt cleared all that up by giving her a new bike of her own!!!

Me and Tamara have been bouncing around ever since, we stayed at Kyle's until the dog tormenting me pushed me over the edge and I couldn't take it anymore, then we stayed with Matt and Isabel, but Isabel's mom came into town so we had to leave.  All day today, since about 9am, me and Tamara have been out and about since we didn't really have any place to call home.  We hauled our stuff around and by 4:30, with no place to stay still, we started to panic...or at least I did.  Tamara, in true Tamara fashion, was just as bubbly and confident as ever that things would be fine.  To be honest I just wanted a nap, I was REALLY REALLY tired and have been ever since we got into the city, perhaps the non-stop hustle and bustle is just too much for me now and what really get my motor runnin' is the open road between towns, where all you need to worry about is a well oiled chain and powerbar. Fortunately Tamara put a posting on craigslist.com asking for help regarding her stolen bike situation.  The manager of a hostel downtown got back to her rather quick saying we could stay at his hostel for a few nights to try and sort some things out without having to worry about where we were going to sleep.  So here I am...on the Jack Kerouac bad (they name all the beds so you know which on is yours).  I'm still tired, but feel really happy to have my own bed for the next few night and not have to worry about hauling my stuff to and fro.

So much has happened in San Fran that I didn't even go into, but I'll post pictures with some captions so you can get a snipit of the time we've spent here, it's too much to try and write about it, I could go on and on and on, but this would get long and I need sleep.

This is from the sleeper cab in Mike's truck. Yes there was a picture of a naked woman on the dash and yes he claimed to be dating a 19 year old her refereed to only as "my lady" ::::SHIVERS::::

Oh god...from the sleeper cab

Vogue-ing in the Bart station...culture shock never looked so good.

Hanging out on hippie hill in Golden Gate park...drum circle anyone?

Isabel, our couch surfing host, spins fire!!!

I GOT TO PLAY TOO!!...I didn't burn anything!

I'm not too bad...honestly

Miles and Fumie, cyclists we met in Honeyman park WAAAAY back in Oregon called us up and we had a PARTY!!!

Me acting a fool on the cable car, I kept trying to get the driver to tell me all the gory details about people falling off and dying...he only responded by saying that that is "unpleasant", then we sang purple rain together...I told him I was from MPLS...he's a Prince fan.

Bikes have traffic signals too.  Despite it's monster hills San Fran has a HUGE biking community...an a rather large Fixie crowd too. Matt our couch surfing host, rides fixed with no brakes...and he's REALLY amazing at it.  Did a wheelie for 2 blocks with one hand I shit you not.

Kyle showing us the San Fran "wiggle" it's a bike route you can take that avoids all the major hills...pretty sweet.

Tamara, minutes before we locked our bikes up to explore the Haight where her bike would eventually be stolen. She was still smiling like this despite the theft.

This town is a HARSH

LET'S DO IT!!! and so we did!

So amazing...the hills are so steep that you feel like you could fall off when you're at the top

Lombard street...super curvy

Fisherman's Wharf

Trying to figure out where Lani is...shit.

Walking up to see Lombard...this hill was damn near verticle...it baffles the mind

Spinning practice poi if Isabels, Matt is an artist and took GREAT pictures.  Here's one!

And another

And me playing with fire....

More by Matt

Poi spinning is my new addiction for sure...it's pretty hard...literally I smashed myself in the head...

I think that's as up to date and detailed as I can get for now.  The plan from here is the stay in San Fran a bit longer and then pedal on.  We're feeling a little itchy to move faster though and there has been talks of ditching the bikes and hitching the rest of the way.  We love biking, but it feels like we are being pulled in another direction, we all seem to really want to go to Mexico, but with the recent border issues and it being unsafe to travel in those areas we were thinking we'd take a bus to Mexico City and maybe WWOFF or try and teach English.  I've been fluent in Spanish for all these years and have yet to really use it.  Why not now?  Plus if we hurry the California bit up we are less likely to spend all our money here.  San Fran alone has really drained the funds and I've been quite frugal.  This place isn't cheap, but I do love it.  Maybe when I want to plant my feet somewhere firm again I'll do it on San Fran soil, but until then I'll have to have a love long distance with this fair city.

Just keep pedaling....??

Maggie