Home At Last!

To San Jose, California --  56.2 miles, 11.4 mph, 1450 ft.

WE… ARE… HOME!!!

Our 2017 summer bike vacation -- 4092 miles over 12 weeks, 75 riding days, 137,500 ft of climbing, ten states and one province -- is done!

And, of course, so is the whole crazy, fabulous 14 plus month, around-the-world adventure -- 28 countries, 6 continents, 40 planes, 28 trains, 35 buses, 140 taxis (or what passes as one in some places), and of course friends and memories for a lifetime.

High point in the Alps -- Great Saint Bernard Pass, Switzerland

Diwali, Festival of Lights -- Jaipur, India

View of Ama Dablam -- Everest trail, Nepal

New Years Day swim -- Koh Rong, Cambodia

Unreal Patagonia backdrop -- Fitz Roy Range, Argentina

Jumping high at 12,000 ft -- Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

Above the clouds -- Machu Picchu, Peru

Almost home on highway 71 -- near Cambridge, Idaho

We are incredibly fortunate to have been able to make this journey. We live in a place and time where we have the freedom and means to literally travel around the world. We also, of course, are lucky to have the financial wherewithal to do so. Finally, I am very lucky to have a wonderful spouse and children willing to put up with the more difficult, uncomfortable and boring bits of what are an inevitable part of such an undertaking. Of course, those parts also make for the best stories!

Our final day started early. We left the Royal Pacific Motor Inn at the crack of dawn. In fact, my 6 a.m. alarm went off as we were pedaling along the Embarcadero and past the Ferry Building. I had emailed some old work buddies on Thursday letting them know I planned to stop by at lunch. Since there are usually a fair number of people eating out on the patio, I knew it would be a good way to see some familiar faces.

Ready for the final ride

San Francisco Ferry Building -- 6AM

Google considerately routed us along the flat, eastern part of the peninsula, mostly near the El Camino Real and the Caltrain tracks, which conveniently end up right at my old work office in Sunnyvale. We, of course, were fairly motivated, so there weren't many stops. There was no doubt that we were back in the Bay Area as there was a clear increase in the number of Priuses, Porsches and Tesla's. The heat wave we had heard about the week before had mercifully disappeared, and instead, we were treated to beautifully sunny and cool weather as we rolled past increasingly expensive houses, culminating with three and four million dollar homes on the tree lined streets of Palo Alto.

At 11:30, we pedaled up to the office buildings of Intuitive Surgical. It was odd to turn into the parking lot as I had done thousands of times before. Eventually, a few people recognized us and slowly, I think, began to understand that we were actually still on our trip, albeit at the extreme tail end. David Bailey kindly bought us lunch at the cafeteria, so we could lounge outside with many of the people I had worked closely with for years.

A little after 1:00, we started on the last seven miles home. During the bike ride this summer, whenever I had noticed that we were only seven miles from our destination, I would breath a sigh of relief knowing it was no more than a simple commute ride to the end of the day. The familiar ride down Lawrence Expressway, turned out to be against a surprisingly strong and unusual headwind. No worries, nothing was going to stop us now, two lowly overpasses would finish the climbing for our weary legs.

Meg and I were both struck by how rundown the expressway was looking. The shoulders were covered in rocks and debris and tall, dry weeds were growing up in the medians and along the sides of the road. Soon we were almost there and unconsciously sped up the last few blocks. As we turned down Fallbrook Avenue, we saw a few hardly soles -- neighbors Jane, Kyra, Judy, and Kelly -- standing in front of the house with a Welcome Home sign. We had made it at last!

Judy, Kyra, and Meg

Dex and Jane

Fantastic spread and dear friends

Inside, the house looked fantastic and exactly as we had left it -- clean, tidy, and unusually devoid of all clutter. Undoubtedly, it would not take us long to fix that. Dex and Kylie quickly found some long forgotten toys and were soon immersed in play while Meg and I relaxed for a few minutes with our thoughtful neighbors.

Meg back in her kitchen

Ah, Hex Bugs!

As I started unpacking the various items we’d been traveling with for months, it was odd how almost immediately, their value and meaning changed for me. Suddenly, knowing that there was no longer a need to hit the highway each morning and pedal along sixty miles of roadway, the things we had relied on from day to day were now much less important. The precious Cliff bars and CoolAid packets, which provided convenient and critical energy, could now easily be replaced by something else sitting in the refrigerator; the valuable, oversized tube of Chamonix Butter, thankful relief from saddle sores, would rarely if ever be touched again; and our trusty four man tent was no longer critical shelter now that we were safely in our own home.  

Travel gear for four: clothes, sleeping bags, food, notebooks....

Soon afterwards, our good friend, Tom Nixon, stopped by to celebrate our return. He offered to cook us dinner and keep the kids over night, and Dex and Kylie could think of nothing better. Even after 437 days away from home, they apparently could stand to spend one more night away before sleeping in their own beds.

Tom manning the grill

Kylie, Cooper, and Dex in the Nixon's pool

Welcome home ice cream!

In the twenty four hours since we returned, we have just begun to unload many of the boxes packed while we were away. Despite substantial purging before we left, we've all been dismayed at how much stuff we each have. Having lived with three shirts and a single pair of pants, it seemed incredibly excessive and unnecessary to now have eight pair of pants and dozens of shirts. I'm convinced, if we hadn't opened half of the boxes, we would never have remembered nor cared about the extra stuff -- more dishes, games, books, papers, toys, clothes, back packs etc. If I muttered it once, I muttered it a dozen times… too much stuff!

Although I suspect much of this will soon seem normal, I do hope just a little bit continues to strike us as excessive and unnecessary. In the meantime, we have tons to organize and dozens of dearly missed friends and family to see. Above all else though, at the end of the day, it really is awfully nice... to be home again.

The Golden Gate

To San Francisco, California -- 59.1 miles, 11.1 mph, 2625 ft.

Last night was our last stay in our snug little tent.  It was a damp morning, so at some point we’ll be unpacking and drying it out. A couple delicious peanut butter tortillas and we were on our way.

Our soon-to-be-unnecessary food supplies

Mr Monster, the entire way, with a front row seat

Given the hilly terrain yesterday, my legs were really feeling it this morning along Tomales Bay. The low grassy hills and blue water of the shallow bay was beautiful in the early morning light, but, man, those short little hills were steep. Seventeen miles into the ride we coasted down into Point Reyes Station and found a hopping breakfast spot. If the elevation profile was right -- which is a big assumption given our past experience that some of the lines were drawn with an oversized crayon -- the rest of the day's climbing would be much more gentle.  

Tomales Bay

It was at this cafe that for the first time we felt like we were back in the Bay Area. This was also the last of our Highway 1 riding. Of all the roads we’ve been on, despite the beautiful scenery, it's clearly one of the worst for bikers.  There are just too many huge sections where there is no where to ride except on the roadway.  And, unfortunately, the windy road isn't enough to discourage semis and travel trailers.

The other clue that we were in the Bay Area was the explosion of bike riders. We got a fair amount of attention and encouragement as we rode into Sausalito and then, after a quick snack, negotiated the stream of biking tourists up the last steep climb to the bridge.

I had to laugh as we crossed the bridge; the wind was now gusting, the temperature had dropped by fifteen degrees, and the upper two thirds of the bridge towers were totally obscured by fog. It was still a hoot as we dodged the other cyclists on the eight foot wide walkway and rounded each bridge tower to a blast of wind, one of which took my sunglasses right over the edge... won't be needing those for a while anyway.

Once on solid ground again, the sun was out, and we let Google guide us into North Beach and to the Royal Pacific Motor Inn on the border of Chinatown. Good job everyone; our last stop of the trip!

We knew that Andrew and Emma, our British friends from a couple nights ago, had made it to the city earlier in the day, so we made plans to meet for drinks at an Italian Restaurant, Fino. The adults shared a bottle of wine and Dex and Kylie had Emma's ear the entire time. We learned that Emma is the introvert of the two. Despite that, she did great with us. I am so grateful we had a chance to meet them and wish them a safe and enjoyable journey on the next phase of their trip, Sri Lanka. For us, one day more.

Beautiful and Busy

To Tomales, California -- 64.7 miles, 12.1 mph, 4150 ft.

This morning was our last with Don, Joan, and De Ann. Don has been in charge of food and was determined for us not to go hungry. We have been super fortunate to have friends and family join us along the way -- Meg’s family in Wisconsin; my family in Minnesota; April’s friends and family during the two weeks to Eugene; and my family again here in California. Thank you Laurie, Keeter, Patrice, Craig, Sharyl, Don, Joan and De Ann for providing much appreciated meals. Special shout out to Bob, Nemo, Jerry, Don, April, Kevin, Kirk, and Sue for pedaling along with us and for new friends Bobby, Andrew and Emma.

After our scrumptious pancake breakfast, we hit the road just before 9:00 with plans to meet one last time, thirty miles up the road. The story of the day was similar to yesterday, but without the kick ass tail wind -- lot’s of up and down and no shoulder. The ocean, shoreline, and golden hills were spectacular, though it was often hard to appreciate it as us “captains” were focused on the white line.

The “SAG” crew met up with us at a small roadside parking lot for lunch and an extended rest break. Dex and Kylie scampered down the hillside to the rocky beach to explore. They seem to have a limitless energy supply. We said our farewells knowing we’d all be together again soon.

Dex and Kylie far down on the beach

The hills for the rest of the day were ever present. By the end of the day, I was definitely getting a little weary. Up, down, up, down, up, down -- 4150 ft of up according to my GPS, which puts it among the toughest of the entire trip. The brief exhilaration of every drop was immediately followed by the reality of another climb. My derailleur, at least, is getting a hell of a workout.

Just before six, we finally made it to Tomales. We realized in Bodega Bay (where we had phone service) that the only hotel in town was full. There also were no camping options, according to our bike map, for another twenty miles -- something we definitely weren’t up for. Fortunately, a man in the general store said we could camp in the town park. It’s not officially allowed, but would probably be ok. With clean bathrooms and a nice gazebo area, we were set. So we'd unexpectedly have one more night in our cozy tent. T minus two -- two more days to home!