Cycling in Central/Southern California

After crossing the Sierra Nevada in Yosemite via Tiago pass, I headed south towards Death Valley.

Dropping down from 7-9,000' to around 4-5000' meant warmer temperatures--no more putting on frozen cloths! :)

 

  

I arranged a Warshower stay in Independence, CA.  My super friendly and hospitable rural hosts provided trailer accommodations.  My first time staying in one.  Private and with all the space I could ask for, it was quite nice.

After an auspicious morning tailwind that had me cruising at 25+mph for over 30mins, I turned East at Lone Pine towards Death Valley.

Arid, hot, and sunny, this is not a friendly place...

The descent down into Paramint Springs/Death Valley was wild!… for about 20-30 minutes, I lost all the altitude that I had gained in the mountains over the past weeks and dropped down to around sea level at the floor of Death Valley.

I ran into a couple from Luxembourg who had actually slept in the same Warmshower trailer I had just a couple nights before me.  They were doing their first bike tour, anticipating going for over a year!  They ended up camping with me in Panamint Springs.  I tell ya, Death Valley is no place to do your first bike tour--it's quite inhospitable!!  I was really impressed with the girl, she said she hadn't even been doing any exercise before this trip! Although I suspect this would catch up with her sooner than later...

To this point, I had not been in the habit of filling my 6 liter water dromedary.  So when I left camp without filling it that morning, I had only ~4 liters of water to get me through ~50 miles of desert heat and sun.  Not a pleasant situation having to ration water when you sweat hard...

 

Upon reaching Ridgecrest, a city on the south-western edge of Death Valley, I dove face first into a massive ice cream :)

The next day I was heading West again, back over the southern most edge of the Sierra Nevada mountains to Lake Isabella.  I got a late/11am start for a 60 mile day with a single 3500' climb between me and my destination.  A mishap with Google Maps landed me on a sandy dirt road that forced me to back track and added about 5-10 miles to my day.  What's more, it meant I had less fluid for the hot, sunny climb over the Sierras.  Still a bit weary from exiting Death Valley, I struggled with the climb and soon realized I could run dangerously low on water again (of course, I again forgot to fill my dromedary)…. So I started sticking out my water bottle as cars passed and was able to scrounge enough water to get me over the top without getting dehydrated.  And once surmounted, it was downhill for much of the rest of the day.

 

From Lake Isabella, I was warned to avoid the direct, heavily trafficked way to Bakersfield, where I had another Warmshower lined up.  The recommended route was about 65 miles and included 4 significant climbs.  But with quiet mountain/valley roads and scenic farm country, I was more than happy to put in extra work for a higher quality of cycling.

Here, on the left, some scorched earth--evidence of fire.

Very visible was the smoke blown south from the fires up north.  Fortunately I did not notice any effect on my respiration--and I was breathing pretty hard.

From Bakersfield, an agricultural transportation hub, I headed south towards Los Angeles.  The agricultural nature of this region meant it was almost totally flat but full of hauling trucks transporting harvest.  Some of the roads in this area, however, had no shoulder.  So my presence was almost always an issue for traffic behind me.

I keep a close eye on traffic behind me; a rear view mirror is essential for this.  At one point there was  a mac-truck approaching behind me that, for whatever reason, did not move to pass and forced me to jump off the side of the road to avoid be smashed.  I screamed in the process and noticed the truck swerve only after passing…I don't think he saw me, but I think he heard me…

At a gas station where I stopped to rest and refuel my liquids I got to talking with some folks who worked there.  As I often encounter, they expressed disbelief that I was about to go up "the grade" towards Vericopa. A long, steep stretch in the desert side of Los Padres mountains busy with shipping trucks.  While I receive this kinda of reaction not uncommonly, it is always someone unsettling when locals caution me about what is to come.

It was a rather grueling climb, but not as difficult as even just the previous few days. This time I had plenty of fluids on my rig, which helps me feel confident to drink as much as I want.
Turning into the Vayama Valley in the Los Padres mountains was a pleasant agricultural mountain setting with little traffic.

I intended upon finishing my day at the one place that existed to eat.  Turned out the I was place was closed that day of the week.  So I ended up camping out next to a pistachio farm, with a peach tree and about 15 feral cats to keep me company.

In the morning I waited at the front door of the town's only restaurant to open at 9am.  I knew it would be at least 4-5 hours until I reached any civilization, so eating here, after having missed dinner, was imperative.

It was about 1500' of climbing that day to crest the summit of Los Padres mountains.

 

From there it was  ~6000' of altitude loss descending to the coast.  For about 1-1.5 hours I was cruising down canyons and valleys before reaching the Ventura county coast--that was fun!!

Cycling from Ventura to Santa Monica included another treacherous stretch, as I had to bike on the highway for a while and then,  as I approached Malibu and Santa Monica, the shoulder diminished more and more.  Approaching the city, there were more cars parked in the shoulder and, as I learned, trash pickup is on Fridays in Malibu, so it also required I  weave  around  trash cans as well as fast car traffic in order to finally make it to the beach bike path. Oh, it was a glorious feeling to find this quiet beach bike path after that.

This bike path eventually brought me to Santa Monica/LA, where I would take a break for a number of days.  I ended up stopping at muscle beach, a place whose vibe immediately drew me in: a place where people come to be active, both athletically but also creatively and to stretch, do yoga, and partner acro yoga.  If I lived anywhere nearby, I'd be here frequently.