Bodega Bay to Samuel P Taylor park

I was thinking when I started out that today would be my last day but the first thing I did was get a flat. I fixed that with one of my gypsy friends but then my gears started to slip and be funky so I knew I couldn’t push the seventy five miles to home in just one day.

I was glad for a few reasons. The first one was that I didn’t want the trip to end and the second was that I didn’t want to be on BART with my fully loaded bike at rush hour. I knew there was a bike repair guy at Pr. Reyes Station so I wasn’t worried.

I passed by one of the Clover Farms. This is why I always choose Clover over Horizon. Go local. Yea.



This last part of the ride from Bodega to Pt Reyes is as magical as the rest of it. Still there is not much action on the coast; just a town now and then with ten miles between. Often the grocery store is the restaurant and the baked goods at the counter are always made by the mother of the cashier or the lady down the street or the cashier herself and they are good good in that homemade way.




In these towns I’d get to talking with other folk as well. Motorcyclists on the whole are friendly to bicyclists being an offshoot of a similar breed.


Near Tomales I saw my first church with a Mary, Mother of God, image. That’s her in the tiny window. I asked her to take good care of my friend and teacher who has just passed.






Many bikers have ally animals on their bikes. Remember the Brazilians with their “alien”? River had them on both his front and back fenders and Alaskan Greg had a penguin named Henry. The fellow riding with the Canadian had Alvin with him.


I was open to having an animal but one never presented itself.
On my way again


It was starting to feel more like home. Pt Reyes Station seemed way to big city like. Not in it’s size but in its mentality and it’s chic expensiveness.

The scenery started to have other things in it.


When I got to the hiker biker park, the Scottish couple i was happy to see again and everyone else was new to me. There was a lively young German guy who was doing 110 miles a day and had cycled the Tour-de-France route and such.

I went to my tent under the Redwoods for the last time this trip. I got to sleep with the Redwoods five nights I think.

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