Too bad they pulled the ad. I take no offense at all. I hope their fearful messages keep coming, because it will be proof that we’re winning!

Riding up Wilson Hill Rd. Photo by Eric.

What do you want in an event: Excellent camaraderie among riders? Exploring the woods? A surprising, expansive view of the Sonoma Coast as you begin a steep descent after a 10-mile climb? Climbing 5 miles through redwood groves on a dirt road? Close-up views of vultures feeding on roadkill?

Near the summit of Willow Creek Rd. An absolute highlight of the ride.

15% dirt and 15,200+ ft. of climbing. This was about the best of what you can do on a bicycle during one day, while carving out serious adventure on a Saturday.

Besides the three big climbs, Max put us on every hill in Sonoma County. It certainly wore me out. I experienced my typical ebb and flow on such a ride: enthusiastic riding the first 3rd, exhaustion and some hopelessness during the second, and then re-invigorated spirited riding on the last 3rd. The climbing proved rhythmic and often facilitated the most enjoyable parts of the ride. The long ones – Old Cazadero, Fort Ross Rd., and Willow Creek – were bliss as I settled into a turning rhythm in my seemingly sensible 34-30 low gear. The relatively shorter climbs were more slaps-in-the-face: Burnside Rd. into Occidental, Valley Ford/Franklin School Rd, and Highway 1 up from Stinson Beach and Muir Beach. Jackie has a great turn-by-turn emotive write-up at the Box Dog journal.

Charging up Old Cazadero Rd.

The descents proved more trouble for me. On the dirt descent of Old Cazadero, I lost my front wheel in some clumpy kitty litter and went down pretty good. Just as I got going, I thought “maybe I should put on my gloves and let some air out of the Pari-Motos (pumped to 55psi), and then I proceeded to hit the mess and fall on my right arm and chest. Pretty cut up, but I felt OK. Only 100 more miles to ride on cut-up hands! I’m telling, you, true adventure! At the bottom is Austin Creek, which we crossed and got a reprieve while putting our shoes and socks back on. I was able to wash up in the creek. It was a kick in the teeth, though. I’d slow down on descents from here on out.

Once I climbed out of Valley Ford, I started feeling good on Hwy. 1. I stopped in for clam chowder in Bodega and picked up the pace past Marshall and into Pt. Reyes Station, where nothing tasted good. I spoke with the other riders about the last 40 miles ahead of us, which would be in the dark and on the 1. I charged a head, feeling great along out of Tomales Bay and toward Bolinas Lagoon. It was pretty fun riding on the flat stretch along the lagoon toward Stinson Beach. I wasn’t fond of riding at night with some of the traffic coming in and out of Stinson on a summer Saturday, but the cars became more infrequent as I climbed out of Stinson.

I was feeling strong, and really wanted to finish when I flatted in the dark. It was a very small piece of glass that made its way through the fairly-fragile Pari-Moto on the front wheel. It was a real bummer – I had trouble pumping the tire back up for a number of reasons, including my sore rib from the earlier fall. Kirk and Ernesto arrived just as I finished, and we rode most of the remainder together.

It was great to get in, despite a small unintended detour at the end with Kyle, who was on his first randonnée. I got to ride with some great people – I think there were about 25 of us, so there were clumps of people who generally got to see each other at the controls. I would have liked to ride more with Ian and talk about his new Pelican. Next time.

And there will certainly be a next time – I can’t wait to so this again. Yes, I admit thinking in alliterative terms about our route creator: “masochist Max,” “mad Max,” and “Mean-old-man Max.” But he’s a very genial person, and I’m happy he had us suffer. Endorphins cure all, including memory of pain. Next year, get in your car/plane/bus/bike and get yourself to this ride. The best I’ve ever done in a day.

After busting out 60-80 miles per day, I’ve concluded that this is the maximum I’d ever want to tour with, unless I was eating far less mileage and taking my time. But with a young children, I don’t really such a long-form tour happening in the near future.

We ate out (praise the maker!), so didn’t take cooking supplies or food. I realize that saved a lot of weight and bulk. On a California costal tour, we had to be ready for cold, wet nights up north, and sunny warm days down south. Besides tubes, tools, bars, and a pump, this is it. Plus a paperback T.C. Boyle novel and a Moleskin pad and pen. So, what did I take, and what could I change to save weight and make room for?

• Top: (1) Icebreaker wool t-shirt; (1) Swobo wool polo; (1) Patagonia cotton/polyester cotton shirt; (1) Woolistic jersey.
I could leave the Woolistic jersey (bulky) and Patagonia shirt, which I thought would dry easier, at home. I would add another polo, as the collar can be flipped up for sun protection. Not bad around town either if its not too nasty from riding.

• Bottom: (1) pair of Bouré Elite shorts; (1) pair of Ibex wool knickers; (1) pair of Swrve lightweight softshell knickers; (1) pair of Swrve cotton pants; (1) pair of cut-off shorts; (1) pair of Swrve wwr shorts; (3) pair of wool boxers.
Too much! I’d swap out the Bouré shorts and Ibex knickers for a couple of padded wool shorts if i could. I’d also get a pair of lighter-weight wwr Swrve knickers and leave the softshells and cut-offs at home. One pair of Swrve pants would be good for the evening.

• Outer: (1) Swrve windbreaker; (1) Patagonia down jacket that also served as a pillow (1) pair of wool armwarmers; (1) pair of wool gloves; (1) pair of Camper shoes for riding; (1) pair of Chaco flip flops.
Nothing to trim here! The Campers are trusty, but Adidas Sambas will take their place next time. I’d add a pair of arm coolers, as my arms got quite a lot of sun despite my sunblock efforts.

• Gear: (1) Big Agnes Seedhouse SL2 tent; (1) REI Lite-core sleep pad; (1) REI down sleeping bag; (1) Jetboil PCS; (1) yoga towel.
The yoga towel was too big, but I couldn’t find my very small pack towel, which I apparently lost and need to replace.

I think with my changes, I could keep this two-pannier-and-rack set-up the same and add some freeze-dried food to use with the Jetboil, or even a frying pan to make something more interesting. Of course, the ultra-light route is also very tempting, forgoing the weight of racks and Ortlieb bags. This is what I’d likely pursue on my Black Sheep adventure bike. Some Kirtland-style canvas panniers would also make my Ebisu, with very lightweight low-rider racks, a capable fast and minimalist tourer.

Riding with a buddy on the tour, I’d have to keep up, and drops seemed necessary. I pushed the saddle forward on the seatpost, set the bars even with the saddle, and took a test ride around the neighborhood. All felt well, although its difficult to see what it would be like over 80 miles. Low and behold, the bike felt perfect. I used my favorite drop bar – the Nitto 135 “Randonneur” in 45cm at the ends. I had multiple hand positions, the ability to cruise downhill in the hooks, and I could pedal hard to catch up to Dustin.

Albatross bars would have been fun if I was alone and took fewer miles per day. But I’m sure glad I left them at home for this adventure.

By and large, the Central Coast route passes through glorious terrain and provides something different everyday. Bicycle touring is one of the best ways to experience places and landscapes: one can cover quite a lot of ground, but you go slow enough to see things that evade most drivers: a peek at a hidden waterfall along the Big Sur coast, the smell of strawberries south of Capitola, the fantastic dirt path up Refugio Pass. There were just too many great moments to put it all into a blog post. Hopefully the photos from Dustin and myself can convey some of the experience.

There were originally 4 or 5 of us in the mix, but because of various things (injuries, timing, etc), Dustin and I made the trip a few days early. We were lucky enough for Jim Warren to join us camping in Buellton and during our last day to Santa Barbara. And were luckier yet to have advice from Doug P. and careful routing from Mike S.

Because Dustin and I were on our own, we thought we could deviate from Mike’s itinerary. But time and again, the coherence of his plan shone through: he combined camping with easy access to eateries in the hit-and-miss Central Coast. We planned on eating out, so restaurants within a mile or so would be important. We tent-camped all but one night, and I brought a Jetboil for morning coffee. Otherwise, we packed pretty light.

Light and ultralight tour rigs

Minimal-ish camping at Half Moon Bay

My plan was to use a traditional low-rider set-up on the light-ish side with two panniers, an Acorn saddlebag, and a rando bag in front with the Adventure Cycling maps and things I’d like to access like cinnamon bears, bars, camera, armwarmers, and a windbreaker. Dustin used an ultra-light set-up with no racks, but a framebag, stuffsack lashed to the handlebars, and an Acorn saddlebag. His packing was refined and impressive. He had about 20lbs of gear, whereas I carried about 35- 40lbs. I had spent a month eating confit de canard and croissants in Paris, so I spent most of the trip catching up to Dustin.

Among the many pleasures of this trip were the breakfasts. Every morning, we fueled up on eggs, bacon, pancakes, and 3 out of the 6 mornings, blueberry or apple pie. Local greasy spoon diners seemed to pop up at just the right moments in the mornings, providing energy for the first 3 hours or so. Blueberry pancakes at Deetjen’s in Big Sur was the standout for both of us. Pure luxury. We didn’t always eat lunch, but every evening settled down for a good dinner: ribs for two of the nights, Mexican food for another two, burgers for another couple. As Dustin remarked, we would not starve. Not terribly paleo, but it sure hit the spot.

Here’s what we did with some highlights:

Day 1- Drive from San Diego to East Bay and ride to Rivendell. Board BART at Walnut Creek and depart officially from the Mission via The Wiggle. Ride to Half Moon Bay Campground -25 miles. We spoke with Vince, Grant and Jay at Riv, and also stopped into Box Dog Bikes to find out how to catch the Wiggle and we spoke for a while with Jackie. We were also able to ride through Golden Gate Park and down through Daly City before hitting the coast in San Mateo County. The campsites at Half Moon Bay were wonderful, and the town provided good dinner and a better breakfast, complete with blueberry pie.

Chatting with Jay at Rivendell World HQ

Navigating The Wiggle in San Francisco

Cruising into Half Moon Bay

Day 2- Ride to New Brighton State Beach (south of Santa Cruz) -68 miles. A nice ride along the coast pass San Gregorio, Pescadero, Davenport, and a diversion among the redwoods and 80 miles of trails in Big Basin Redwood State Park. An absolute highlight was Swanton Strawberry Farm, where we enjoyed chocolate-covered fruit and Cesar Chavez memorials. New Brighton was crowded, but the hiker/biker sites were quiet and overlooked the ocean. An afternoon bodysurfing session in the unseasonably warm water hit the spot. Kabob dinner in Capitola.

My rig at Big Basin Redwoods State Beach

Swanton strawberries: ¡si se puede!

Rolling toward Santa Cruz

Day 3- Ride to Big Sur 73 miles. Difficult but beautiful ride after apple pie, eggs, and bacon in Aptos. We diverted into Pacific Grove thinking about doing the 17-mile drive, but after lunch, we decided to take the Adventure Cycling route up and over the peninsula. Traffic was heavy on a Friday afternoon through the Carmel Highlands, which was a drag. There was one big climb, and then a lovely descent past Andrew Molera State Park and into Big Sur. We pitched our camp under the redwoods, and enjoyed beers under the giants and dinner at the Lodge.

A fun 73 miles ahead

The beginning of the extra-goodness

Day 4 Ride to San Simeon State Park- 67 miles. Glorious. The morning started right with a Deetjen’s breakfast. With an early start, we beat the traffic and had the coastal road mostly to ourselves, with rollers, sustained climbs, and blissful descents in the most famous section of the course. Rolling hills and deep blue water set the scene as we entered San Luis Obisbo County. Before San Simeon, we stopped to see the elephant seals, and then made it to the State Park wit a passable campsite. Dinner in Cambria.

Obligatory.

Southerners headed South

Day 5 – Ride to Pismo Beach- 54 miles. If we had a rest day, this was it. We rode through the towns of Cyucos and Morro Bay, and into San Luis Obisbo, where we were treated to a very small espresso and good vibes at a café downtown. I could move there, for sure. On the way, we rode along South Bay Blvd. and Turri Road for some wonderful climbing and a better descent. Pismo Beach was loud, full of toy trailers, and is a town we might skip if possible. Our only flea-bitten motel stay.

The fog was still with us in the morning

Flat!

Day 6 Ride to Buellton Ca 62 miles, camp at Flying Flags RV Park. Varried ride through flat farmland and over the Harris Grad into Lompoc. I was spoiled by Big Sur and not terribly happy with this stretch when Dustin reminded me that uncrowded roads through farmland is what most people dream about. Jim joined us and we devoured Carnitas at a taqueria near the park.

Picking up our fuel of choice: cinnamon bears in Guadalupe

Day 7 Ride to Santa Barbara 45 miles with dirt road climb of Refugio pass. Board Amtrak for home. Danish sausage and panckakes helped us get an early start out the 246 to Refugio Road, where we did the dirt climb and harrowing descent to the 101. Then to UCSB along the greatest bicycle path on earth, into Santa Barbara with time for burgers and beers adjacent to the train station.

Jim joins us for Refugio Pass

Touristas

Steep, rocky climb up Refugio Pass.

Santa Barbara in our sights

Overall, a highly memorable road-bike experience and camping adventure. Mileage between 55-80 miles per day saved our sanity and Dustin’s knee, while providing a challenge with often some good climbs built in. Dustin and I had one flat each, no mechanicals at all, although that’s one of the benefits of running friction shifting.

Anyway, what are you waiting for – go do a camping trip!

650B makes a lot of sense for city riding and commuting: the smaller wheel diameter makes for a stronger wheel, the fatter tires float over imperfect road surfaces, the space to take fenders for all-weather riding, and the threat of toe-strike on the front wheel is significantly reduced. In France, where 650B originated and was widely used on inexpensive city bikes, you see them everywhere on bikes from the 60s & 70s – still doing their work many years later.

Traffic in Paris has its own flow, and there are lots of starts and stops as scooters maneuver and pedestrians j-walk. The mixte is ridden by men and women, and makes sense in this respect. Outfitted with porteur bars, a rear rack, and integrated lighting, and after a month of seeing these bikes do their work throughout the city, they clearly are the most Parisian of the Paris bicycles. Not all of these are mixtes, but the show some of the everyday uses for the 650B city bike:

Velíb from the handlebars.

My riding partner.

After careful consideration, and a couple of weeks astride dozens of Velíbs, I decided that that latter rules the road. Not that its the best bike. The 650B mixte appears best suited for the streets of the city. But the Velíb has changed Paris for cyclists. One local I spoke with remarked that before the Velíb, the city had become a horrible place to ride. The Velíb changed all that – or at least the city is in the middle of a transformation.

Everyone rides it – and my wife particularly enjoyed the ease of the system. One thing that should be considered is the sheer number of bicycles and stations. I don’t know the number, but there must be tens of thousands of them, and hundreds of stations. Less ambitious efforts are likely to have very limited impact on a city. You need a lot of these to make it work and change the space. Plus, there were dozens of work crews repairing, moving, and monitoring the bikes.

A crew repairing flats in the 13th Arr.

Of the dozens of individual Velíbs I rode, about 75% had some kind of issue — from a poor-shifting hub to a lumpy tire and creaking pedals. But if you got a good one, it was worth keeping the whole 30 minutes.

So, cheers to this ungainly, heavy, and ill-fitting bicycle.

These Rapha videos always capture the relationship between the rider and the landscape, among other things, in a way that conveys the truth of riding. And the pleasure derived from suffering. Its as if Terrence Malik made a cycling short.

Of special note, at 6:50 the shape-note singing kicks in. This constitutes an especially vivid section on the fellowship of riding with a group, and speaks to the collective experience and fellowship of randonneuring in particular.

Click to visit Rapha Continental The Movie

I sold it to buy a Bike Friday Tikit, which I loved. It rode more like a real bicycle and had standard-components, which I favored over the Brompton’s proprietary pieces and closed-system. At the same time, the Tikit’s fold was larger (as is well-documented and discussed), but not by much. I got used to the ride, and enjoyed it, but it still wasn’t like my other bikes. So it left the stable and went to a good home.

Now I find myself wanted a Brompton again – something my wife and I could both ride as a city bike to do quick errands and keep in the car trunk. I’m ready to accept its limitations. How did this happen!?

Riding the Velíb around Paris had me thinking about the trade-offs that may come with incredibly useful but poor-riding bicycles. No one would say that the Velíb is a fine machine. It does the job, engineered for durability and theft-prevention. The fit isn’t ideal, its heaviness makes it sluggish, and it doesn’t plane (!). But it does the job, and once you accept its limitations, it becomes rather magical and delightful.

I’m thinking of the Brompton the same way, as I’ve seen a few bounce around Paris. It does the job, and then tucks away underneath the cafe table.