Day 32, 33, & 34

Stratus clouds. Marine layer. Onshore flow. May grey. However you describe the steady cloud deck pressing down from above, it’s been a constant companion since Friday last week. The National Weather Service long-term forecast through Tuesday, my arrival day to San Diego, said, “See no reason why the relentless marine layer cloud pattern should stop.” The good news is, for the remainder of the trip, I won’t have to worry much about being too hot!

I am so happy to be in Carpinteria where I am visiting my sister, Julia, and her husband, Daniel! They are consummate hosts and it feels great to just spend dedicated time with them instead of attending an event with divided time shared among other relatives (weddings, memorials, etc.). Tom stayed with them, too, and left before I arrived yesterday, so he prepared them to host another bicycle rider. Today will involve the compulsory lactic acid bleed, probably on a nearby hike. I leave on Friday morning, so there’s still time to explore more of the area than I’ve seen on previous visits.

After leaving Santa Maria on Monday morning, I didn’t make many stops. I continued to pass through fields of specialty crops—romaine lettuce, the constant strawberry fields, artichokes, avocados—and continued south toward Lompoc. The divide between valleys here is traversed by the Harris Grade Road, an asphalt sliver I followed, cresting at about 1000’ where an abundance of what looked like lodgepole pine grew. The pines were not healthy and were so overgrown that one might describe the area as “mangy woodland.” Looking south toward Lompoc in the distance, my eyes trained to a spot just below where I stood and toward a solitary, non-working oil “pump jack”. On the descent I noticed some old roads with “No Trespassing” signs that said “Lompoc Fields” and “Ecological Restoration” along adjacent properties. Of course, the signs moved me to do some research that you’ll have to just endure. 

The Lompoc Oil Field is a smallish oil patch which has been in production since 1903. The ecological restoration would have been a part of a mitigation effort that has yet to be fully realized. There are still many moving parts involved politically with sunsetting this oil operation, planning for growth in this part of Santa Barbara County, and the ecological impacts to the chaparral and coastal sage scrub. Trying to shake the fossil fuel tethers to our economy and creating a livable future is in full view right here in Santa Barbara County! 

Not much further on, I entered the northern portions of suburban Lompoc and made a split-second decision to deviate from my route by going to La Purísma Mission State Park instead. The Mission visitor center was closed, so I walked around the grounds and was happy to see all of the gardens so well-curated and signed. I pretty much had the place to myself except for the couple dozen or so school kids on a field trip. For some reason, the Mission grounds were not a place where I imagined the denigration of indigenous lands and traditions, and started to envision a true melding of people and ideas. I hadn’t really experienced that before. Maybe it was the fact that the quality of life and the lifestyles of the Spanish and the Chumash weren’t as divergent as I assumed. In any case, Just beyond the Mission, I found a place to eat lunch, Capulin Eats and Provisions. “Capulin” is a form of the Native American word to describe a cherry species found in Mexico, but may have been used to describe another cherry, hollyleaf cherry, native to this area and in bloom with many, many honey bees visiting the stalks of flowers. Soup and sandwich! The restaurant was located at an intersection where Highway 1 conveniently led me south away from the suburbs and row crops and toward the coast. 

After only a few miles, I overtook another adventure traveler, Karson, on his way from Grass Valley (where my parents grew up) to San Diego, where he lives in a nearby town, Alpine. Since we had a steady 15-mile, 1000’ climb in front of us, it was relaxing for both of us to distract ourselves with conversation. Karson was new to California, living in Alpine with family for less than a year. He had recently graduated from Macalester College in St. Paul and wanted to take advantage of the time he had to bust out and do a long bike trip. As we talked and pedaled, we were suddenly overtaken by two young women bicyclists who seemed to be in a hurry. To keep up, our speed increased while we chatted with them. New medical school graduates of the University of British Columbia, they had a limited amount of time before starting their residencies and were headed to Santa Barbara that day, about 50 miles farther than Karson and I had in mind. They had covered epic distances (to me) of 120 miles a day en route to San Diego from Vancouver. They wished us safe travels, and the next thing I knew, they accelerated uphill and were out of sight within minutes. I could only laugh. 

Karson and I arrived to Gaviota State Park, located right on the beach, east of Santa Barbara. As far as California State Parks are concerned, this one was small, quiet, and had HOT showers! I was so excited after enduring questionable shower temperatures at other California State Parks. In the range of “big deals” when arriving to hiker/biker campgrounds, this one was BIG. Because you must use official California State Park tokens to operate the showers, there are issues. Invariably at any park, someone has tried to use quarters and the coin machines jam, preventing the use of at least one shower. Other showers only deliver lukewarm water. If you’re lucky, the door will lock; otherwise, you take what you get. There are few places to hang things, so disrobing and dressing have to be carefully orchestrated to keep clothes dry and out of the shower spray. The Gaviota shower seemed to check most of the beneficial boxes and was a successful end to an enjoyable ride with Karson. The evening chorus of frogs, reminded me of an iconic TV ad. 

We woke up to a bluebird day! Not that kind of weather, but I did spot the first bluebird I’ve seen in decades flitting around our campsite. Leaving Gaviota we knew we had to travel 20 miles on the shoulder of U.S. 101, a divided four-lane freeway. The shoulder was generous and so was the wind, so we made it to the Goleta/UCSB off-ramp in just over an hour. We stopped for coffee, a cookie, and then went our separate ways from UCSB. Karson had not had an opportunity to ride with anyone up until we met, so I was happy we could spend time sharing our experiences. He visited campus and I continued my ride to Carpinteria on magnificent bicycle paths and designated lanes in Santa Barbara. I’m very happy to get to this point, and will take a brief break from blogging until after I resume my ride on Friday. I only have five more days of riding left before arriving to San Diego, and that realization leaves me with a mix of emotions.