Day 6 was the longest day we spent on the bike, nearly 12 hours. It’s the second longest ride by distance (one mile longer than Day 4), but we had an unforeseeable two-hour delay. The ride wasn’t as tough on us as Day 4 was, but left little time to recover for Day 7, the last day of the ride.
Route: ridewithgps.com/routes/46875225
Miles ridden: 89
Feet climbed: 3,300
Total time: 11:30
[NB: some photos courtesy Chris Eisenberg]
Lompoc to Rest Stop 1
The ride out of Lompoc was nice. Highway 1 runs southeast from there to the former town of Las Cruces at the junction of Highway 1 and the 101 just above Gaviota Pass. The road from Lompoc winds up and down along the Salisipuedes and El Faro creeks between the White Hills and the San Juan Hills. It’s really a lovely stretch of road.
Part way up the climb is a turnoff to Jalama State Beach, only accessible by 15 miles of road in and out. Jalama might be the closest publicly accessible land to Point Conception, the separation point between northern and Southern California and the northernmost point of the Southern California Bight, which extends south to San Diego. I’ve spent some time offshore at Point Conception. It’s not a rounding to take lightly, especially if you’re headed north against the prevailing current. Points of land tend to generate weather, and as a major point of land jutting into the Pacific, Point Conception generates its share . . . a fact Kathy I were to experience later that morning.
The first 17 miles of the ride, from Lompoc to Rest Stop 1, climbs a steady grade. It was cool again—California’s well-known June Gloom morning marine layer effect—which made the climb up Long Canyon pleasant. We rolled steadily, enjoying the scenery, talking easily . . . you know, just two friends taking a leisurely 89-mile ride in the country.
We pulled into Rest Stop 1 for a break. It was cooler here, wetter, the marine layer more dense. And it was breezy. We didn’t want to stay very long, but historically this is a place where the CHP holds riders until the 101 down the Gaviota Pass is good to go for us. It can take an extra 20 to even 45 minutes. Frustrating on a long day. The lines were very long when we got there and we welcomed the break after the pleasant but long climb. Kathy ran into a pal who was part of the Rest Stop 1 Roadie crew, and she found Kathy a chair to sit in. It was actually that painful for her just to stand. I got in the food line and grabbed some Pop Tarts and hard boiled eggs for both of us. Fortified, water bottles topped off and restroom relieved, we were ready to leave.
But sometime amid all this standing and sitting and waiting, we learned there was a multiple-car pileup (non-cyclist involved) somewhere ahead on the road. As a result, the CHP wanted the ALC to hold all riders at Rest Stop 1 until such time as they cleared the accident and deemed the route safe. The line to leave the rest stop was already long, growing by the minute. Kathy suggested I go join it so we wouldn’t be any further delayed than necessary. I grabbed the tandem and got in line. Good call on Kathy’s part. Before we were released, the whole camp of 1,400 riders were stacked up in that stop.
As usual in ALC lines, I struck up conversations with the people around me. I talked for a while with a woman from Taiwan who flew to California just for the ride. I reconnected with someone else whom I’d met over breakfast at the Santa Cruz camp earlier that week. It made the time pass easily, at least until it became obvious that this was going to be a longer-than-expected delay. Rest stop workers had to hand out Mylar blankets to riders who were underdressed for the cold. Kathy and I were okay: she always dresses in multiple layers, and I wear wool, which has a wider temperature range than normal jerseys. But still. All that nice climbing had loosened us up for a good long ride and all this sitting around in the cold made muscles seize up.
At length, riders were being released, but only in groups of twenty at a time. We started the painfully slow procession to the front and finally, after two hours, were back on the course again.
Rest Stop 1 to Rest Stop 2
Rest Stop 1 was located in a turnout before the crest of the hill. From there we had another mile or so still to climb. The incline was steeper here, and with our now-cold leg muscles, it was not as pleasant as the first part had been. Nevertheless we made it up—as we always did—and were soon on a long downhill to the junction with the 101.
After our experience on Day 4, we took the descent especially easy, engaging the drag break and early and keeping a riderless pocket before and behind. It was a very conservative downhill. Which, as it turned out, we would have had to make anyway. As we descended the canyon, the onshore wind, coming from our right, stiffened until it became fierce. And rather than being a steady, predictable wind, it swirled around the hills and gusted down the side canyons, buffeting us as we rode along. The Tango is very stable. It’s a heavy steel bike with low profile rims, unlike the much taller aero rims on newer, lightweight carbon bikes. A crosswind gust will push an aero rim pretty violently. I know this well from riding my Hakka MX (lightweight carbon frame; tall aero rims) across a stiff breeze on the Golden Gate Bridge. A strong sideways gust is not usually enough to take a bike down, but it does get your attention.
The wind grew stronger as we turned onto the 101 and dropped down into Gaviota Pass. This is a narrow road, hemmed in close by steep cliffs rising on one side and dropping off into the Cañada da la Gaviota on the other. Though there is a decently-wide shoulder and a deep-set rumble strip to separate us from cars, it’s always a sketchy section on a bike even under the mildest conditions. And the conditions were anything but mild. The wind whipped around us, mostly on our nose, but with side bursts as well. Downhill auto traffic does not slow here despite the sharp curves and the “55 mph” signs. The roar of the wind and the roar of the passing cars in such a narrow slot of road was nerve wracking. We made it through fine. Kept our speed and kept our cool. Which isn’t to say it wasn’t scary. “Harrowing,” was how I described it to Kathy afterward. She wholeheartedly agreed.
We pulled in at the recently-reopened Cal Trans auto rest area at the bottom of the pass, mostly just to decompress. Quick restroom break, quick snack, deep breaths . . . and we were back on the road. We merged back onto the 101 to start the long coastal ride toward Santa Barbara.
Rest Stop 2 was only a few miles away. On another day we might have skipped it. But as the days of the ride grew longer we tended to take breaks more often … which of course helped make the days of the ride even longer, but felt more like necessities rather than options as time went on.
Rest Stop 2 to Lunch
The Santa Barbara coast from Gaviota to Santa Barbara is wonderful. I think it’s better seen from a car for the most part. There is too much traffic traveling much too fast along here most of time. A couple of bridges are very narrow. It’s possible to get inured to the noise to some extent. But the semis passing just feet to the left always makes me a little apprehensive.
There aren’t many off-ramps along this stretch. We pulled over at the turnoff to El Capitan State Beach for an impromptu break and found a number of other cyclists doing the same. I’d been on touch with my cousin (by marriage) Kurtis, an avid cyclist who lives in Santa Barbara who wanted to ride along with us through his town. He passed us going the other way once we were back on the highway, but caught up again before we exited onto Cathedral Oaks. I had a great time riding with him, even while adhering to the strict ALC rules of the road (no side-by-side riding, foot down at stops, etc). It was a long slog from where we met up to lunch at Tuckers Grove Park and his company helped pass the time pleasantly.
Roger met us for lunch, and he and Kathy went off to sit with Chain Gang friends. Kurtis and I grabbed some food. The park’s benches were filled with cyclists. As it turned out, the first open seats we found were across from Kathy and Roger. For some reason (permits?) the lunch and rest stop hours after Gaviota Pass were not extended to take account for the extended delay that morning. Not long after we sat down we heard the announcement that Lunch would close in fifteen minutes. A short time later the closing was extended for another fifteen minutes, but we still rushed to get out and to get to the next rest stop before it closed. I wonder how many people behind us went without that day.
Lunch to Ventura
Kurtis navigated us out of lunch. As a practical matter, there were a gaggle of cyclists ahead so no navigating was necessary. But he cautioned us about upcoming bottlenecks and hills, the kind of advanced-warning info it’s always good to get from a local. We hit the beach near Shoreline Park. Just past was Rest Stop 3 in an area called Paradise Pit. The City of Santa Barbara donates ice cream at this stop, and I’m told the mayor comes down and thanks riders, though I have no idea who the mayor was or whether they were there. Kurtis left us there to head back home. If I were him I’d have left too. Kind of a madhouse of a stop, but . . . ice cream!
From Rest Stop 3 we rode at a leisurely pace on the bike path out of Santa Barbara Harbor and along the beachfront. A really great stretch to slow down on and enjoy the warm sun and cool breeze. After the path left the beach riding became less easygoing. There were steepish hills and sharpish turns. Sometimes the path became a bike lane next to traffic again. Further toward Summerland there was a very sharp turn that led to a short, steep incline back onto the bike path. Kathy knew it well and started warning me about it early so we were prepared. We made sure traffic was clear, took swung into the lane to taker the turn wide; I stood out of the saddle and we rolled over the top in good shape, cursing whoever designed such a poorly designed transition.
We kept along the freeway for a bit until we rode into Carpinteria. From here down to Santa Monica felt like home to me. I love Carpinteria. It’s a very walkable little beach town. On the further edge of town was a water stop at soccer fields perched on a seaside bluff. From there we dropped onto the 101 for a half mile before getting off by Rincon, a place were my son, Kazu, and I like to surf. There is a separated bike path along this part of the Rincon Highway. The ride is loud with passing traffic, of course, but the separation makes it less stressful than it would be otherwise. The path is on the beach-side of the 101, and it feels almost as if you can touch the sand as you watch the waves roll in.
Back before automobiles, stagecoaches used to run the beach through this stretch. If the tide was in they had to wait t until it dropped again in order to pass Rincon Point. All things considered though, not a bad place to take a break. We could see Santa Cruz Island on our beam, and Anacapa Island, with Mt. Vela (Spanish for “sail”), a few points south. The wind all along the coast had been light ever since we’d turned out of Gaviota Pass. I can’t imagine having any better or more pleasant weather along this stretch of the route.
We turned off 101 onto the beachfront road. From here we passed areas I know well: camping areas (like Hobson’s) and surf spots (like Mondo’s). We rolled past the phalanx of RVs that always park along this section, keeping well left of them for fear of opening doors and unexpected pedestrians and bikes coming out from between the vehicles.
Eventually we made it to Rest Stop 4 at Solimar Beach. Again, as we came in we were told the rest stop was closing because we were so late due to the morning delay. This rest stop is known for its beach party, with loud, throbbing music (no surprise there) and dancing. Kathy was dying to get here, couldn’t wait to join the dance. But when she got off the bike, she found she was in too much pain to dance. She walked to the edge of the party, but soon had to find a place to sit to rest her back. Another bitter disappointment to add to the others she’d already endured.
We’d ridden 83 miles that day, but we still had five miles to go to camp. We took these last miles even easier than we’d been riding. I think we both wanted to enjoy the gentle weather, the easy ride. Even when I drive this beachfront I keep under the speed limit. It’s just such a wonderful area with the sand, the waves, the sun on the water, the islands offshore and the dramatic escarpment across the highway. Why hurry to get away from such a view?
At the end of the road by Emma Wood State beach (shortboard break) we turned onto a bike path and followed it to the Ventura River which took us Surfer’s Point. We rode the Esplanade along the beach, which was crowded with all sorts of bikes, people, dogs, and other free radicals, very slowly. At length we made it to the camp, and after nearly 12 hours, our long day was done.
We got in so late I didn’t have a lot of time to take care of my camp business. I retrieved my gear and set up my tent, but the line for the showers was epic. We were close to an area of Ventura known as Pierpont. I decided to postpone my shower and forego the last ALC dinner and walked over to Seward Street instead. I had a great meal at a taqueria and finished it off with a froyo nearby. By the time I had walked back and had my shower it was dark. It was also breezy and cold. I’m told there is a candlelight vigil to the beach that takes place in Ventura. But I didn’t learn any details so I missed it. Instead I tucked into my tent and set about getting things ready for the next day.
