Jayhawkers

I also learned today that Texans in this area dodged the Confederate
army's draft during the Civil War by hiding in the dense woods. Since
the folks here were mostly agricultural laborers, not plantation
owners, they didn't own slaves, and so regarded the Confederate cause
as a rich man's interest. I asked the shop owner at Honey Island,
Texas where that town's name came from. I had guessed that the name
meant they raise either honey bees or beautiful young women there, but
the shop owner told me that the name dates back to the Jayhawkers
(those hiding from the Confederate draft). There was a hollow old tree
in the town that friends and family of the Jayhawkers filled with food
each night, so that the Jayhawkers could survive their extended
hide-out in the Big Thicket. By day the Confederate army would burn
parts of the forest to route out draft dodgers, but the woods were too
vast, and the Jayhawkers held out till the war's end, finding
sustenance at Honey Island. Understandibly, the shop owner is very
proud of his ancestors' standing up for what they thought was right.
That's some American history that I had never known.

Pea soup fog

In Coldspring, I woke up to ants swarming inside my little bag of trail mix; just like in Hawaii! Trashing that bag, I started on my way in thick fog, so for safety detoured onto highways with wide shoulders. The fog thus presented little danger, but I had to outrun or, moreso, outbark about six dogs today, which surprised me, as up till now Texans have been good about restraining their dogs. I'm on my way out of Texas and into the deep south. The fog was cool and condensed as I rolled through it, so I used my raincoat for the first time this trip. The course today was smooth and flat, and the headwind that had been battering me for the last week finally died down, allowing for fast riding. Most of today's route ran through the Big Thicket, very dense pine woods. I ran into British Paul Silsbee; he must have passed me when I was visiting Seth and Ivan. He was staying in Silsbee for the night, but I wanted to run on to Kirbyville while the winds were light, and am now in Kirbyville, TX.

Coldspring, Texas

It was a joyous morning in College Stapion, playing with cute little
baby David and his daddy after a huge and delicious breakfast of eggs
and pancakes. On his way to school, Seth then ferried me across town
so I could avoid the local construction, and deposited my bicycle and
I past the east end of College Station. Thank you, Seth and Janice! I
cycled on eastward to New Waverly, where I rejoined the proper
Southern Tier route. This section passed through the Sam Houston
national forest, lush with the foliage of tall pine forests on gently
rolling hills. The landscape is now truely that of the eastern USA,
and I've even seen logging trucks for the first time on this trip; the
desert southwest is behind me, so I might need to break out my rain
gear soon (I've been blessed with sun so far). One thing that I will
miss about central Texas is the plethora of butterflies that kept me
company while struggling over the steep hilly roads of that country.
However, the gentle hills of the east do make for easier cycling. I'm
now in the town of Coldspring, where the kind Indian innkeeper saw me
cycling toward town and knew that I'd be searching for lodging here,
so kept his last room for me before I had even asked. The food in his
apartment behind the lobby smelled really good; I miss all the
delicious Indian food of Kobe. Gerard, when we go to Kobe this winter,
I'll bring you to eat the best Indian food! Seth, you and David got
that song "the aunts go marching two by two..." stuck in my head, and
I've been cycling to it all day.

College Station, Texas

I'm near Texas A'M University, visiting my old Stanford roomate Seth, his wife Janice, their new son David, and their two sweet cats. Seth is a professor of Civil Engineering, and Janice teaches Physics in addition to being a Mom; they're a busy family, and it's great to see them after two years. They filled me up with a delicious lasagna dinner while we caught up on each others' lives, and played with the baby and cats. I'm lucky to have this chance to visit old friends! Now the catr are attacking me!

Oil country

A working oil well near College Station, Texas

Caldwell, Texas

Ivan and I said farewell after breakfast in Austin. Hopefully not too
many years will pass before we visit each other again. As he drove
back to Dallas, I cycled east to Bastrop, and then left the standard
bicycle route to head northeast toward Texas A&M University, where
tomorrow I will visit my friend Seth and his family. Once I left the
route, I was on a shoulderless highway with two lanes each way.
Surprisingly, all the motorists were very considerate, and gave me the
right lane all to myself. And to add topping to the cake, for the
final 14 miles before the shoulder, a concerned and kind police
officer followed behind me at speeds ranging from 5 to 20 mph, to keep
me safe! It doesn't get any better than that. I wanted to get a photo
with the kind officer, but he took off as soon as the shoulder
resumed. Nothing nurtures the traveler so well as does the kindness of
strangers! Now to do my laundry in the sink of my motel room here in
Caldwell, and tomorrow off to College Station.

Texas and eggs?

Who ever knew that Texas is a waffling state?

Austin, Texas

At the Texas state capital with my Jersey middle-school buddy Ivan, who now lives in Dallas. It's awesome to see my old friend!

To Bonnie and Al

Dear Bonnie and Al, if you read this, would you please email me
ya'all's address? Thanks, Jeremy

Halfway!

Austin is the halfway point between San Diego and St. Augustine, with
about 1600 miles to go in either direction.

Austin, Texas

I woke up to a very clear, crisp, and chilly morning at the campsite
on the Blanco River. There was no rain in site, but my tent's rain fly
was all wet from condensation of the moisture I exhaled while
sleeping; it's amazing how much water we lose simply through
breathing. Packing up camp, I headed through the edge of the Hill
Country, where the hills were smaller, and the cycling easier (not to
mention the headwind had died down). The roads through ranch and farm
country and quaint towns were scenic, and the drivers courteous to me,
but the frequent roadkill tempered the pleasant day with the stench of
death; deer, skunks, squirrels, and even a porcurine met their sad
fates on these roads. I saw some deer dart across the road and they
just missed being hit; they were luckier than that dog that darted out
of its yard back in Arizona. Leaving the rural hills behind, my course
has now taken me into the heart of Austin, the political, educational,
and cultural capital of Texas. Cycling here has generally been easy,
thanks to a wide network of bike lanes, which I'm thankful for since
there is a lot of traffic here. Now I'm in a motel on I-35's motel
row, and will call it an early night. Tomorrow morning, my buddy Ivan
from my Jersey childhood will meet me here, and we will see the sights
of downtown Austin. He lives in Dallas now, so I've not seen him in a
few years; I'm psyched that I get to take a rest day and chill with
him!

Guadalupe River, Texas Hill country

My ride this morning wound along this beautiful river, off which wisps of mist rose in curls. River crossings were mostly submergable wiers with small culverts, not bridges, meaning that the road dropped to river level at each crossing, making for some very steep grades of short length, and interesting and sometimes tough cycling. After climbing out of the pleasant river valley, I faced more hills and gusty winds, which were scenic but tough. By evening, I reached the town of Blanco, and am now camped in Blanco state park, in a very comfortable campground on the Blanco river. With the continuing north wind, it will be another clear, cold (in Texas terms) night, so I put my tent's rain fly up for some insulation. Together with my sleeping bag and thermals, I should be nice and toasty till morning.

Disciples of Abraham

After a long and tiring day of riding the hill country in a headwind yesterday, I arrived near dusk at Hunt, a resort area on the Guadalupe River, to find the motel had already closed, the nearby bed ' breakfasts full, and no legitimate campsites. Al and Bonnie here run one of the B'B's. Since their guest cottage was already occupied, these dear and devout Christians, as our patriarch Abraham taught us to do, offered the weary traveller a room and meals in their own home, and treated me like one of their own family. After I showered and then ate my fill of delicious homemade omelettes and then ice cream and chocolates, we discussed our respective trips to Israel, and the differing perspectives our different religions gave us of the Holy Land. I slept like a baby, and was treated to oatmeal before departing that house of kindness at daybreak. Al and Bonnie, thank you again for your kindness!

Texas Hill Country

This area west of Austin lives up to its reputation of beautiful forests, farmland, and rivers. Very steep grades and gusty winds have made cycling these hills difficult, and progress slow, but the scenery is worth it. Cows, goats, horses, and deer are all common here, and oggle me as I roll by.

International water resources

Today I passed the Amistad Reservoir, damming the Rio Grande, and
lying half in the US and half in Mexico. I don't know what kind of
water sharing agreement exists between the two countries to govern its
use. It also seems to be the boundary between desert to the west and
forest to the east.

Athena and Rog

A couple of really friendly Texans from San Antonio that I met at the diner in Fort Clark (Brackettville). We're all staying at an old army fort, at which the barracks have been classily converted to a motel, while the rest of the campus' historic buildings date back to the Indian Wars of the 1870's.

Brackettville, Texas

For my Japanese friends, if any of you are reading this, let me not forget the time-honored Japanese tradition of taking photos of food. Here you will find the standard Tex-Mex fare of a veggie burrito and a delicious chocolate milkshake.

Pecos River, Texas

Camping in Langtry last night, the wind shifted to a howling northerly at 2am, and began to blow my tent and I away, along with spraying some drizzle. I picked up camp, moved to the south side of the community center, and donned my tent's rain fly, then to sleep well till dawn. Back on the road, the crazy tailwind pushed me quickly towards Del Rio. Along the way, I passed the scenic Pecos River, which once separated civilized central Texas from lawless west Texas.

Langtry, Texas

I'm camped beside the old community center in this old railroad town, now nearly a ghosttown other than for the kind folks who staff the museum and souvenier shops (they're the ones who told me that cyclists may camp here). It's astounding that a once so thriving town can just disappear over the course of a century, but such was the fate of many old western towns here in the US. My ride today was slow and difficult, as I was pounded by an unrelenting headwind all day, making even the descents over this roller-coaster terrain a harsh fight. On the road, I met an older German couple pedaling west, and taking full advantage of their tailwind; they must've been in their 50's or 60's and I was impressed at the speed at which they were travelling. But my headwind took its toll on me, and I'm gonna settle in here for the evening.

Sanderson, Texas

Despite the paucity of intercity passenger rail here in the US, frieght rail is alive and well. Today's route paralleled a pair of heavily used tracks, with mile-long 3-engine trains pulling their containers up and down the mountain grades each hour. Some of the containers had familiar names, like Matsen, Hanjin, Senator, etc, indicating that they probably came directly from trans-Pacific container ships that called in Los Angeles or Oakland. Now I'm at a cute little motel in Sanderson, which is decorated just like my Mom's house. Time to rotate my bicycle's tires, as the tread is much more worn on the rear.

Marathon, Texas

The folks around here are the friendliest I've met so far in the US. The photo is of Paul and Ciaire, two artists from Dallas on their way to adventure in San Francisco, and who cheered me on during my lunch stop in this friendly town. On the road all the motorists, truckers, and bikers have gone out of their way to give me safe clearance, and most even wave or beep their encouragement at me. Another big discovery has been of vegetarians here in ranch country; the cafe in Marathon even made veggie burgers! The staff told me that most of the veggies are city folks who have been moving out here. Whether city transplants or native ranchers, these are pleasant folks.

Repairs

As the day began with a flat tire, it ended with a broken spoke (rear wheel, drive side), which I didn't even know about till the spoke inspection I perform each night that I stay in a motel room. I phoned Jeff to learn how to remove the rear casette in lieu of a chain whip, and then replaced the broken spoke and trued the wheel. Thanks for the answers, Jeff! Now I've only got one spare spoke left, so I'll pick up some more if Alpine's bike shop is open tomorrow morning. It won't be too bad if I break only one spoke every thousand miles (I've gone 1,050 miles so far on this trip)!

Cruel history

On the descent into Alpine, Texas, where I'm now in a motel, I saw this historical marker, of which kind there were many. I guess some parts of the US haven't yet realized that Indians (First Nations) who were protecting their lifestyle, and bandits who were the dregs of society, shouldn't be considered on par with each other; I guess history here is still seen through the eyes of the white pioneers only. West Texas needs some more diverse education, though I do gotta admit that folks here are mighty friendly. I wonder how friendly they'd be if I weren't white?

Oct 19 McDonald Observatory, Davis Mountains, Texas

It was a long, hard, roller-coaster climb up to the 6200ft pass, but the juniper forest at altitude was delightful. I lunched voraciously on Mexican food at the observatory's cafe, and then learned about how astronomers use spectral analysis to classify stars, not too unlike how we coastal engineers do so with waves; since light is a wave too, I guess I shouldn't be too suprised by the analytical analogues. An astronomer at the observatory (which is part of UT-Austin) also said that it's the least light-polluted spot in the continental US.

Oct 18 Davis Mountains, TX

Climbing upwards, I camped with my tent hidden in a thicket of grass off the side of a very lightly-travelled road. The night was cold and the stars were beautiful. Only the howling of coyotes and the unnecessary fear of mountain lions interrupted my sleep. I woke up before dawn to a flat tire, which I grudgingly climbed out of my sleeping bag to repair, with frozen hands. I was joyous when finally the dawn broke and thawed me out, as riding is much easier with warm muscles.

Kent, TX

After lunching on a huge plate of bean and veggie tacos at a truck
stop west of Kent, my route will be heading off into the desert for a
few days. Today's riding has been very fast, pushed along by a strong
tailwind once again. I hope this wind keeps up! Paul is on the road
just ahead of or behind me, and hopefully we'll meet up again tonight,
as I feel safer when camping with another person than alone.

Fort Hancock, TX

Carried along by the tailwind, I glided by this little town and spotted a bicycle ahead. I caught up and met Paul, a talkative and kind cyclist from Britian, with whom I split a hotel room. He had cycled down the Rockies from Canada and now is headed to Florida as well. It's nice to have company again.

El Paso

With its sister city Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, is the metropolis of the region. I saw the border for the first time; the mountains of Mexico towered in the distance over the Rio Grande, but just this side of the river looked like a prison, with chain-link fences, barbed wire, and guards driving its length in landrovers; border patrol is a very strong presence here; it's the most martial scene I've seen in my country. Spanish is also very prevalent, and the wait staff at my lunch restaurant greeted me with a "buenos dias", and had to call the manager to take my order in English, as only he among the staff was bilingual. After lunch, my course turned eastward, and took me running before a 20 knot tailwind, a sweet feeling after days of headwind.

Twin cities of the border

Spanish is spoken as much as English is here near El Paso, and my
second language of Japanese isn't coming in as useful as I'd like,
other than to yell "urasai!" at barking dogs. Of other interest, today
I met a very kind shopkeeper in a very small farm town near the Rio
Grande. He told me that he meets many Germans who pass by on the same
bicycle route, and that he'd like to visit that country, but that he's
afraid the folks over there wouldn't like Americans, because of World
War II. I was shocked to hear of such a thought, and I guess that's
why Mark Twain was so adamant to proclaim that "travel is fatal to
bigotry and ignorance" or something as such.

Pecans, too!

Passing through the pecan orchards near the Texas border was a pleasure, as the trees covered the road and brought relief from both sun and wind. After passing over many impressive irrigation structures and canals that carried a flow comparable to the Rio Grande itself, I reached Anthony, Texas, a surburb of El Paso, and am now relaxing here in my motel room, set to eat dinner, perform some bike maintenance, shower, and sleep.

Her name is Rio...

Needless to say, today's song was by Duran Duran... across the Rio Grande. But many narrow bridge crossings also invoked "...semai hashi da..." though I cannot remember the origional Hebrew.

New Mexico's Rio Grande valley

Land of chili peppers! It would have been an easy cruise downhill along the Rio Grande if not for a stiff headwind that lasted all day. Nonetheless, the irrigated agricultural valley was charming, though most of the time my head was tucked down against the wind, making it tough to catch all the scenery. The smell of chilis was everywhere, a joy to the nose, surpassed only by the smell of garlic in Gilroy, Californib.

Oct 15 Caballo Reservoir, New Mexico

Dropping down the east side of Emory pass was long and steep, and I was afraid that all the braking I was doing would overheat my tires and pop my tubes, so I occasionally stopped to let my rims cool off. At the end of the descent, the landscape suddenly became that of arid desert. I passed the town of Hillsborough, where all the cafes and shops were closed; the poor little place has seen better days, back in the last century when it was the county seat and a base for miners. I rode on to the valley of the Rio Grande, where a dam creates this pleasant reservoir, near which I'm now camped at a friendly campground.

Oct 15 Emory pass, New Mexico

Today's ride was a long and greuling push up steep switchbacks at 5 mph in a beautiful forest of pine, oak, and fir, and rivers, to the highest pass on the southern tier route, at 8200 feet. I had company for part of the way from Kevin, a local who rides up the pass for excercise sometimes. I enjoyed the company, as when I'm alone my mind just drifts among pop songs, mostly "Daniel", "Sukiyaki", "Kono sekai wa semai hashi da", and "Armageddon it". I pushed my body to its max today, and am happy to have passed this challenge. Kevin told me that the region has been in a drought lately, and that is killing the fir trees, while the more hardy pines are still surviving. Many seniors were driving these roads today, and were very friendly, too.

Oct 15 Santa Rita copper mine, New Mexico

Oct 14 continental divide on hwy 180 in New Mexico

At the pretty little town (just a post office actually) of Mule Creek, we picnicked. The Mom, Gil, and Jeff drove back to Phoenix, leaving me all by my lonesome. It was a tearful farewell, especially for Mom. I'm going to miss them very much, and I'm also going to miss my faithful companion Jeff, whom my folks took back to the Phoenix airport, so the he can return to work in California tomorrow. Thanks so much to all of you! Without Jeff, I've lost track of my daily miles, but I made it to Silver City, New Mexico today, and am now staying at a motel there. It's a pleasant little town. Let me not forget to mention that during this morning's climb to the border, we met Dave, a bicyclist heading from North Carolina to San Diego; it was awesome to finally meet another XC bicyclist! And one good thing about pedaling a fully-loaded bicycle again is that the weight has stopped it from shimmying, which it had frighteningly done at high speeds when unloaded.

Oct 14 border of Arizona and New Mexico

With my folks still supporting us with food and juice stops every hour or so, we pushed up the 6300ft pass guarding the entrance to New Mexico. As soon as we crested the summit, the landscape changed from rocky desert to alpine coniferous forest, and then to grassland/Oaks as we descended. It's amazing how mountains can change landscapes so dramatically and quickly.

Oct 13 Gila River Valley, Arizona

Jeff enjoying the valley's main product: cotton

Oct 13 Gila Riuer Valley, Arizona

With parent-support for food and morale, and a tailwind for speed, we spun 114 miles up to the top of this scenic cotton-farming valley in eastern Arizona. Even though I was stung by a bee, chased by a dog, and encountered some unkind rednecks, the security of being accompanied by a trusted friend and followed by loving parents made it a good day.

Oct 13 San Carlos Apache lands, Arizona

Oct 12 Superior, Arizona with Jeff and Gil

After a sweet day of rest at Mom and Gil's house in Scottsdale, we rejoined the southern tier route in Tempe, and pedaled east, up out of the Phoenix valley. Mom and Gil are awesome, and are supporting us along this leg!

Oct 12 Globe, AZ

With Mom and Gil carrying our cargo, we rode a very easy 80 mile
mostly-uphill ride over a 4600 foot pass to Globe. The roads were
narrow, and the residents here in the copper-mining town of Globe not
at all bike-friendly as they pass by in their fat pickup trucks, but
it was such a pleasure to cycle uphill while unloaded, and to have my
folks meet us every 20 miles or so to share snacks and juice! We're
all staying in a motel now and will eat dinner together soon.

Folks

Did I say how happy I am to see my sweet Mom and Stepdad?! And to eat
my Mom's pasta and pancakes! I don't want to leave! So I will
rest here for a day. I've missed my folks a bunch while living in the
far-away lands of Japan and Hawai'i for the last four years.
Jeff will continue riding with me for the next three days, so we will
look for a beefier tire for him tomorrow. His road racing tires are
fast and light, but too easily punctured, as evidenced by his 13
punctures compared to my bike's 1 flat, as its deeper treads kept
those blowout wires from penetrating to the inside of the tire. But
the bright side is that Jeff and I have become very efficient at
patching flats; we'd make a good race crew.

Oct 10 Scottsdale, AZ

It's nice to be at my Mom and Gil's house! I might take a rest day here to chill with my folks and see my aunt and cousin.

Oct 9 and 10 Arizona

We passed through the very friendly town of Quartzsite and stocked up
for the fast haul down I-10 towards Phoenix. About halfway along,
Jeff's bicycle's rear tire flatted about 10 times, from the steel
belting of truck tire blowouts. We couldn't reach the freeway's rest
stop, so as darkness fell we set up camp in the desert, near an exit.
Next morning (today), we set off early, and flew the last 60 or so
miles to the western edge of the sprawling Phoenix valley, where
Jeff's tire flatted a few more times. After breaking a tube valve on
his second tube, he needed a new tube, but the local shop didn't have
one to fit his bike. Instead of scavenging my own bike's parts, my
Stepdad graciously picked us up and drove us to my folk's house in
Scottsdale, on the other side of the Phoenix metropolis. Tomorrow we
will get the parts Jeff needs to fix his bicycle.

Oct 10 Colorado River

Leaving Blythe, we crossed over the Colorado River, the source of snlowmelt-born water and thus life to much of the arid west. The crossing brought us into Arizona, where we rode 80 fast miles on the interstate, pushed along by the drafts of large trucks.

Oct 8 Blythe, CA

We're staying at a motel for the first time this trip, and are
grateful for the chance to shower and wash our clothes. And it will be
nice to sleep on real beds.
I also just noticed that my phone's picture mail is cutting off the
text I write for my log, so I want to tell Kory and Fatima thanks
again for being our support at our ride's start.

Added a year later: Also, my food poisoning finally worked its way out of my system, and I was healthy again! Yipee! Despite all the other obstacles I encountered from here on, the trip was superb after this point!

Oct 8 Blythe, CC

Near sunset, we saw our shadows on the levee of an irrigation canal, bringing Colorado River water to turn this otherwise-desert into a lush agricultural oasis, just as in the case of the Imperial Valley, which we visited yesterday.

Oct 8 Palo Verde, CA

We ate our dinner at a grill in this friendly little farm town. All
the staff and patrons wished us luck and safety, while I drank many
glasses of much-needed icy cranberry juice, and Jeff loaded up on
Pepsi.

Oct 8 Palo Verde, CA

We left the desert in the moring to pedal 40 miles through a blistering 25 knot headwind over the aptly-named Chocolate Mountains, then descended into the lushly irrigated Colorado River valley for 20 miles of easy riding.

Oct 7 Algodones Dunes desert, CA

Sunset over the desert

Oct 7 near Glamis, CA

After 80 miles of pedaling today, we pitched our camp in the sand dunes east of the Imperial Valley. The stars are beautiful, and the Milky Way is stark in the black night. I can't believe my phone has reception in this remote region, but that is what allows me to post these updates. Hopefully the guys on their ATV's will quiet down soon, so we can get some sleep. ATV'ing seems a popular sport in this region.

Oct 7 Anza Borrego desert state park

After saying our farewells to the very kind Kory and Fatima, we contined on into the desert. The remainder of our descent into the Imperial Valwley was fast and fun, other than for some headwinds. In the town of Westmoreland we ate lunch at a small taqueria where only we could not speak Spanish. The cook was extremely kind and good natured, making our stop in this tiny town a pleasure. We then rode on through the farms of the Imperial Valley, everywhere passing aquaducts bringing Colorado river water to this otherwise parched land, turning desert into a lush oasis of iceberg lettuce.

Oct 6 Julian, CA

The vineyards continued, but it was a greuling next 40 miles, on each hill ascending hundreds of feet, only to lose that altitude before ascending the next hill, a task made even tougher by our load of 40 lbs or so, most of it water. After the rolling ended, we faced a final climb of 4200 feet up to the town of Julian. By day's end, we had covered only 60 miles, but we were exhausted by the climb, which we couldn't manage at anything faster than 5mph. But we had arrived. Kory and Fatima camdd to Julian to meet us for dinner. Then we all drove together to the campground 18 miles downhill to spend the night. Yes we cheated here! And were happy for such, as it was aleady too dark to manage the steep descent safely. The desert campsite was gloriously quiet, and the stars were beautiful.

I'm writing this sentence a year later, because I didn't want my Mom to worry during the bicycle trip, but I came down with a bad case of the runs and food poisoning during the first three days of the ride! Maybe it was from not having slept the night before (we drove through the night down to Kory's house in Cardiff), or maybe it was from something bad that I ate, but the entire three days, from the base of Julian, to the Arizona border in Blythe, were terribly uncomfortable. I had to stop once or twice an hour to use any bathroom, or to hide behind a tree, shrub, levee, or even a bale of hay and empty my bowels. Jeff understandably became irate at my having to stop so often, but しょうがない we had no choice. He also had to put up with the sulfur burps that accompanied the food poisoning. Poor Jeff, having to share a tent with me when such a horrid stench was coming from both ends! Nonetheless, we pushed on through it all.

OCT 6 START CARDIFF BY THE SEA

We left at dawn, with Kory and as guides for our first 20 miles out of San Diego. The terrain was beautiful rolling hills covered with vineards.

Bye bye Candy

At Nobuko's apartment in Santa Clara, Jeff says farewell to Candy cat. And we get in the car for a drive to San Diego. Tomorrow morning we start pedaling east.

My bicycle

My 2007 Fuji tourinj bicycle sitting in Gerard's garage in Palo Alto. This afternoon Jeff and I will drive down to San Diego to meet his friend Kory, who will guide us through our first day from the coast to the mountains, over which lies the desert. This week of rest in Palo Alto after returning from Hawaii has been great; good friends and cool air!

Pennie!