Prologue

August 2001

The gap in the coast was bothering me. Eureka to San Francisco. I'd previously done San Francisco to San Diego and Astoria to Eureka.

The gap was about a week's cycle. The previous September I'd had to get a real job, and a week was about all the vacation I could get. And when Air Canada and Canadian's frequent flyer programs merged I had enough points to get to the coast. So it seemed like the thing to do.

The Monday night before I leave I try to get the pedals off my bike, so I can box it up for the plane, but they won't budge.

Tuesday I toss the bike in the hatch and go to work. At work I get Derek to help me get them off. That night I disassemble my bike. The back tire is flat. I swear it wasn't flat when we took the pedals off. I don't see how it could go flat sitting in the hatch of my car.

Wednesday night I rush down to Mountain Coop after work to get a new tire for the front. Then I go home and put the new tire on, puncturing the tube as I take the old tire off.

On Thursday they have the layoffs at work. They lay off 40 people, plus reveal that they'd secretly laid off 15 people in the previous month. I don't get laid off. Thursday night I finish packing up and drive to work, dropping off the bike and duffel bag with my gear.

On Friday I take the bus in to work. At 4:00 Ursula shows up, and I load my stuff into her hatch, and we head off to the airport.

I use the automated check in kiosk, which works great. Then we go to the baggage check in, where the woman makes me go to another desk to pay for the bike. $65 plus GST.

The flight is okay. The film is Shrek.

I get to SF, and lug my bike out to the shuttles. I get on a Shuttle. There's a dispatcher guy who gets on and rides to the next pickup point. He says to the driver, "Yeah I was the first juvenile in the state to be tried as an adult for murder. It was self defense. What could you do?"

Get to the hostel and check in. There are a couple of Japanese guys in my room. They're just getting ready for bed. They don't seem to speak much English. We go to bed. Sometime in the night another guy comes in.

The Japanese guys get up at 5:00, and leave by 6:00. I get up and 7:00 and shower. Then walk around the neighbourhood until I find a place for breakfast. When I get back to the room the other guy is still asleep.

I walk down to the North Face store. I get there about 9:15, but they don't open till 10:00. I wander around downtown, but nothing is open. Finally it opens. But they don't have any fuel or stoves. I bought fuel there six years ago, so I don't know what the deal is. I ask the guy if there's anywhere around that sells fuel. He tells me about a place. He says it's near the Civic Centre.

I walk up Market, past the Civic Centre. A long ways. I'm about to give up, but I spot a phone booth with a phone book, and find the place. It's a couple of blocks further on. I find the place, and decide to buy two canisters of fuel, despite the weight.

I get back to the hostel just in time to check out. There's only one guy at the desk, and he's Asian, and doesn't speak much English. I say, "I need a cab to the bus depot."

He says, "You need a bus to the airport?"

"No I need a cab to the bus depot."

"You need a bus to the airport?"

This continues for a while, until I say Greyhound, and he gets the idea. He says it's Saturday. It might be easier to flag a cab than call one. But he calls one, and leaves a message on their machine.

So now I'm wondering if the taxi company will listen to their machine, or if I should just flag a cab. But there are none on this street. I see some going up and down the cross streets. Finally I decide to walk to the cross street. I decide that if I can't get a cab I can always walk. At the cross street all the cabs seem to be full. I decide to walk to the next street. And the next. By this time the box and my duffel bag are becoming very heavy and awkward. I flag one taxi down, but he takes a look at my bike box, and keeps on going. I walk past a bunch of black guys hanging out. One of them says, "Shouldn't you be riding that?"

Finally I get a cab to stop. The bike won't fit in the trunk, so it's sort of standing upright, with the trunk wide open. But I get to the bus depot.

I buy my ticket. The woman accidentally overcharges me by $64, and has to do two $32 refunds. Why she can't do one for $64 I don't understand.

I have to take my own luggage to the bus, so I'm stuck guarding it. But as I'm sitting on the floor of the lobby, my bike box slides away. Some baggage handler has taken it. I can only assume that he knows what he's doing. We get on the bus, and I see my stuff go on, so I'm reassured.

There's a guy sitting beside me for the first little ways, but after that I have two seats to myself for the rest of the trip. It's long and boring. We stop at 5:00 at a diner for dinner.

After two days of travel, my mind is turning to mush, but when we stop at Legget, I see four loaded tourists, and I get pumped. I want to get out there too. As we're pulling out another cyclist arrives, and I see two more as we drive up the highway.

Finally we arrive in Eureka, and I get off, and go to the hotel across the street where we ended our previous trip.

Then I walk down to the Lost Coast Brew Pub, for a root beer and chicken wings.

Back at the hotel I start putting my bike together while watching popup Brady Bunch.


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Last updated: June 28, 2007