DAY 1
August 10 2008
70 Mile Day
Depart San Francisco ride through Vallejo, Fairfield, Vacaville, sleep in Winters
Sandra and Nathalie escorted me to May’s place for some 350.org wristbands and wisdom. At the Golden Gate bridge we met with Isabelle, Mark Brew and Oliver. Following was a sandwich with Sandra and a lament for my kite back in Napa. Little did I know a lost kite would cross my path after just a short ferry ride.
The Angel of Winters is a statue holding up a rainbow with clouds over her shoulders. Her hair falls don in such a way that she pears to have angel wings. One one side of her I found pears, on the other side were apples and plums. She is a generous statue.
DAY 2
August 11 2008
40 Mile Day, 110 Miles Total
From Winters through Davis to Sacramento
In Davis I made a stop at the university and inquired as to where I could find some hot water for oatmeal, and to my surprise the responder was Philip Cello, a friend from high school! We caught up and exchanged stories. He is doing well with his recently achieved philosophy and psychology degrees.
Soon I was off again for Sacramento to stay with my college friends Robert and Christa.
After an amazing dinner and delicious homemade ice cream desert with homemade berry crumble, my generous friends showed me their photos of China, which are spectacular and as close to being there as I have ever felt. Following this we were incapacitated by the Sacramento evening heat and promptly fell asleep. My departure the next morning was with yet another homemade masterpiece; apple spice jam!
(Robert if you would please send me a photo of yourself on your new bike that you have completed!)
DAY 3
August 12 2008
67 Mile Day, 177 miles Total
Sacramento, Folsom, Placerville to Sly Park campgrounds on Jenkinson lake
Starting the Sierra’s at 4mph
DAY 4
August 13 2008
50 Mile Day, 227 Miles Total
Jenkinson lake, Mormon Emigrant Trail, Highway 88, Carson Pass, Kirkwood, Hope Valley Meadow Sno Park
Finishing the Sierra’s with Carson’s pass at 8,600 ft.
His hands were covered in as much dirt and soot as the land could provide. His hat was scuffed along all sides, his boots were soiled, and the pants he wore were hardened by the oils and grim of a life outdoors. His face wore a smile, and he recited from that smile the poem of the Buckskin Mare. Frank offers me drink and I accept a water, leaving the two warm beers from his horse pack to himself. He makes 60 miles a day with just himself and a horse, 15 miles is his daily distance with all his horses and everything he owns. His summers are usually spent in Yosemite Valley, due to the recent fires he prefers the Sierras this year. Sour Dough Slim, and Alex Beaton, he recommends to me, especially Tired of Fixin Fences in the Rain. In my mind I picture him on his horse singing, “I’m a tired lonesome cowboy a long way from home” just as Lucky Luke always did in the end.
Silver lake was my last swimming stop in the Sierra’s. I climbed to the top of left pillar planning a poetic dive into the lake. While perched on top I realized the water was to shallow and climbed down in a very unpoetic manner.
At an old Western mountain bar restaurant and inn I filled up on water and information. I took a photo of its solid wood interior, which complemented its wooden exterior.
Walt’s never been to Disney Land, at least as if he has he didn’t call it the happiest place on Earth. Walt is no Walt Disne, but he knows how to get by, and without bothering others. He lives in his van most of the time and stays there too. His exercise routine consists of putting on his slippers and getting his old deaf dog back to the van when he wanders further than fifty feet away. “They’ll steal small dogs like this.” he says. I can’t tell if the thieves he is referring to are the ones he mentioned earlier who raided tents left alone for to long out of their brown truck with the yellow stripe and star, or the masses of welfare criminals who mostly stole from each other back when they used to camp here over ten years ago. Ether way they don’t seam to be eyeing the old blind dog t hard. Walt is a kindly man and boils me some hot water for my mate and tries to give me a laundry basket that he found on the side of the road, he thinks it would be great to put on my bicycle, but I kindly reject in the manner he rejects my mate.
The food in a tree high out of bear reach, and my bicycle is kept close at hand incase I need to compensate a midnight snack with a ride.
DAY 5
CALIFORNIA (Exit stage left.)


























































