Hot Damn!
I started the morning at 8AM on the nose and got up to speed pretty quickly, assisted by some light tailwinds which blew through the misty morning. By 10AM I had gotten my first 30 miles and was on the opposite side of Santa Barbara where I stopped for coffee and some powerbars. Santa Barbara is lovely (so I imagine from only breezing through). I regret not having more time to spend here, or most anywhere really along the way, but it's necessity now that drives me and not tourism.
If I kept the current pace, I'd be good. Two hours on at 15 mph, then one hour off to rest. I was on pace to keep this up, when I hit Ventura and the road diverts and shuffles bicycles onto a city bike path. As a road cyclist, I sincerely hate bike paths. They tend to be poorly maintained, filled with people who ride too slow or even worse with rollerbladers. In fact, the only close calls I've had on this trip have occurred on bike paths and not roads. It's not uncommon to find sudden patches of loose gravel or sand under which bike tires love to slide. Anyway, it slowed me down a bit to be on this bike path, and then there was a huge gap in the path which I hit hard and got a flat. I was far enough into town that I was able to fill my tire and ride a mile to a bike shop, A) to get more tubes, as I had only one left (and I hate patching) and B) to save time by using their air pump. Despite the unexpected stop, I was still keeping my average speed, and resolved to just take a shorter break later on.
I was feeling good about getting to L.A. on time, enjoying the tailwind and the level flat road, and mostly a very nice view of the ocean. Most of southern California is beautiful, with the notable exception of the city of Oxnard. It is the ormolu rectum of the golden state. It's a little piece of New Jersey on the Pacific. Nothing bad happened to me there, and I didn't even stop there, but it just smelled bad and was ugly and the air blowing across it's sewage treatment plants and foundries literally left a bad taste in my mouth. I had to chew some gum. As an tangential note, throughout this trip I would always make sure to have a pack of gum, typically Orbit White, in my handlebar bag. When I was either tired or had a tough time of things I would chew a couple and referred to them as "awesome pills," chewing them when I needed a little boost of awesome, or alternately as celebratory "awesome pills" for having accomplished something that required a little awesome. I've spent a lot of time by myself, and may have gone a bit mad. Awesome.
Outside of Oxnard is Port Hueneme, is the Point Mugu Naval Air Station, a big chunk of government property that is gated off with ample signage indicating that it is U.S. property and not for me to use or enjoy. Along the highway, they have some fighter jets on display and there (on government property and presumably with permission) was a photo shoot set up with an old Cadillac convertible filled with bikini-clad boobie-girls. I'm glad that the rules for access to the premises can be excepted in the case of boobie-girls. God bless America. I couldn't figure out the tie-in, though of having an old convertible with the jet aircraft. I feel like it should be one or the other. Instead of voicing my conceptual doubts, I instead shouted, yes, "God Bless America!" cuing the boobie-girls to wave at me and blow kisses. I think they like me. I totally could have gotten some of that.
Past the air base, Route 1 clings to the coast for the next 15 miles with gorgeous views of the ocean on the right and the Santa Monica Mountains on the left. With a nice tailwind, I was made great time through this stretch and by 3:30 I was in L.A. county and only 30 miles outside of the city, and most of that 30 miles was the city of Malibu, which is nearly 30 miles of coastline. The last stretch of which was quite a nervous bit with four-lane, undivided, shoulderless traffic made up of manic city-drivers. But after a few miles of this and by 5:30 I found myself within the city limits of Los Angeles. Hot Damn. I doed it. I was able to get off of Pacific Coast Highway and get onto the L.A. bike path. While it was a bike path, I didn't mind being away from bat-shit crazy city drivers, and I had done it, so I could be leisurely and take my time. Found my way to Santa Monica pier, and cut inland to my friends Beau and Erick's place by 6:00PM. So my longest day at 115 miles was done, and well before sundown. Having psyched myself up for it, it was as if my previous 18 days were training for this last century plus ride.
For the Day:
Rolling Time: 7:46:03
Distance: 114.85 miles
Avg Speed: 14.78 mph
