The secret word for today is Redwoods. I will unseal the envelope a little later in this story. The day began in Crescent City, which, oddly enough, is where it ended last night. My morning run took me into a park along the water and the whole run was flat, which I much prefer to the up and down kind. I ran out on a closed cement pier and it was just the magical sea and I. So many of these seaside communities seem to have a special energy. The ocean is filled with life and enormous spirit and it gets inside, whether you want it to or not.
As usual, I was slow to leave, barely arriving the night before, which has kind of been the rhythm of the ride. Today’s ride is one of the shorter ones, around a hundred miles. I wanted to allow time for the you know what’s? I didn’t feel at all rushed during the day and I arrived at Arcata early in the afternoon. I am not sure this place has a reason for being and I can’t say I feel any. Then again, who gave me the right to shoot my mouth off about someone else’s home?
OK, it is now Redwood time. My assignment for the day was to find these trees and ride with them. I am not sure what kind of words exists to describe these witnesses to eternity. Even I was only remotely concerned that I would miss these giants of the forest because of a wrong turn somewhere. Honestly, it isn’t like I have made bad directional decisions before.
There was actually a sign that said Big Tree and I turned off the road to see what is considered big in Redwood Land. It was very BIG. I didn’t mean to do a Jesus pose, but it is intended to give an idea of scale and it was the idea of a too cheerful lady from Texas, who took this classic image.
I am feeling my riding skills; such as they are, deteriorating, as I get closer to the end. I think I have been lucky to get to this point in the ride. You have to be nuts not to have flashes of fallibility, especially on some of those downhill sweeping turns, followed by the sudden appearance of a sign with a sharp turn icon and a speed limit of 25 mph, coming down from 65. Adding to my illusive confidence is a precipitous drop to the ocean and a cute little guardrail to protect me from an over steer. I’ll be fine because I am hyper-cautious and I don’t care what anyone thinks, even a big logging truck, gaining from behind. OK, I just lied about the big rig. I had one behind me going through the redwoods and I had visions of getting eaten up by the logger.
My systems are shocked each day and more than once. I expect to misplace a few things and I have not been disappointed since San Francisco. I may have gotten just a little bit better because I now organize my piles and I have given up totally on variety. I confess to wearing “favorites, ” leaving most everything in the dry sack.
Right now, as I look around in my superbly appointed room at the Arcata Super 8, tomorrow mornings clothes, which look terribly familiar to today’s clothes, are in a pile on the luggage stand. The dry sack is standing at attention and off by itself. Loose items that go in one of the hard cases are piled on an armchair and the computer bag and assorted items for the other hard case are resting on the corner of the bed.
Thanks for reminiscing about the day with me..