Tyler's Account

Accompanying pictures: http://bit.ly/TDCRFLICKR

The following paragraphs share a summary of the last two weeks of my life; a tale of an adventure not soon forgotten. It is a story of bicycles and beer, climate and climbing, from the redwoods to the golden gate. It is about a bond of an aggressively slow pedigree.

Monday, Sept. 20th :: Day 0

San Fransisco painted in fog. Chilly breaths hover in front of 50 unpacking and repacking climate riders. Exchanges made between new and old faces, goodbye's and hello's all around. And so it starts. A shuttle bus takes riders from Kezar Stadium in San Fransisco to the starting point of the ride, some 320 miles north in the heart of redwood nation: Fortuna, California. As the bus winds north, anticipation builds. In just days, I will ride alongside some 100 other riders as we complete the loop back to SF. We'll be raising awareness of climate change along the way (and learning a lot ourselves), and bearing the voices of the thousands of people who supported us on the ride.

By the time the bus reaches the redwoods in Leggett, we start seeing landscapes that we will be riding through the next day. The hills seem endless. I drove through this part of California just a year ago, at about this time of year, and I have never been more excited to experience such a beautiful stretch of country by bicycle.

We arrive in Fortuna, register at the campsite, and enjoy the social interactions of a group of riders who have something new in common. Bedtime. Team tall in tent small.

Tuesday, Sept. 21st :: Day 1

So this is what we know:: Day 1 winds 60 miles through the world's largest remaining virgin redwood grove, following the Avenue of the Giants for much of the day. Day 2 has hills, lots of hills, as we climb from the redwoods over the coastal ranges to the Lost Coast. Day 3 is long, 100 miles long. Day 4 is, well, on day 1 no one is thinking past day three. One hundred miles! Whew. Questions race through my mind, highlighting the strength in my legs, the size of my lungs, and the competence of the stallion of a bike I'll have between my legs for the majority of my next 5 days.

After a brief safety meeting, the moment for departure has arrived. It's been months in the planning for Team Tall. Coast to coast fundraising and logistical planning calls, emails, & texts scattered through Donal's globe trotting. Heading out in waves of 10-20 riders, we are quickly seduced by the immensity of the local landscape. We weave our way through fields dotted with California's famous "Happy Cows", and the motto quickly makes sense. What incredible country. We weave our way up to the first vistas, and gradually drop again to follow the Eel river, as it meanders through trees thousands of years our seniors. Lunch is tucked in a spectacular grove along the river, not a terrible spot to enjoy a turkey pesto sandwich and some kettle chips. One tenth of the trip down, and so excited for the rest. An eager start after lunch drops us in a zippy peloton (a pod of riders to ease headwinds by drafting) with the core of soon-to-be-formed team Aggressively Slow. Lauren and Dan Casey join Donal and I as we zip past redwoods through short rolling hills. Stopping at a drive-through redwood and later an extended stop for coffee, we ride quickly but make the most of the unique economy of northern California.

A jump in the Eel river after an adventure with Lauren and Peter, a dash of lectures on hydrogen cars and carbon credits, and a delicious dinner capped the first day of riding and lead to an early sleep.

Wednesday, Sept. 22nd :: Day 2

There's not a drop of dew on the tent as I stir awake at first light, wishing I could have just a few more minutes in the warmth of my zero bag. The temperature outside, however, is forgiving and I quickly loose my morning stupor as I pack my bags for the day ahead. Everything on the truck, check. Breakfast, check. Teammate (it's his birthday!), check. And we're off. The first miles are relatively calm, as we wind our way up and down the valley walls of the Eel river and its tributaries. The calm, however, has everyone thinking about what lies ahead. Some seven miles of climbing and over 2,000' of elevation gain lie between us and the fabled Lost Coast. And lunch. After a final water stop, we depart from 101 for the first time and continue on Route 1. It's starts with a teaser of a down, which is so unsatisfying when we know we'll just have to climb out of all of it. Up hill, five miles...though it's not so steep, and there is great conversation that takes our minds off the task ahead. By the time we reach the top, there's a general consensus of...oh, that's it? And then there's the down. For nearly 12 miles, we wind our way through the most incredible switchbacks and patches of shade and sun, as we cut through the giants above us. We come to a shorter (1.5 mile) but steeper (700 feet) hill that separates us from the ocean. I power up it, wishing only to get to the top and get this whole climbing deal over with. Donal, and his quads of iron tries the same, but with his brute strength somehow shatters his rear deraillure and has to take a car up the steep hill (*tear) and (spoiler alert) will get to ride a carbon fiber bike for the rest of the day. We all feel terrible for him.

Nearly the first time we see the coast, we're at it. Route 1 hangs out over a bluff that drops down into the brilliant blue ocean that stretches from here to Japan. And there are whales spouting right beneath us!!! I mean come on Climate Ride organizers, you didn't have to go that far! (But thank you xoxo). A few easy miles down the coast and we're at lunch, on a bluff above the crashing waves, sipping on salt air like it's our job. Two sandwiches, two bags of chips, an orange, a few chocolate bars and a cliff bar comprise my lunch and I eat all two pounds of it. Could eat more. Off again, and now meandering along the coast with gentle rises and falls, hanging out in the Aggressively Slow peloton + Peter. We arrive in Fort Bragg and make a stop at the local Brew Pub for Donal's birthday (we're only six miles from camp) and enjoy some of northern CA's best. It turns out that (and this is pretty crazy) two other groups (making about 2/3rds of the bar) are also celebrating their birthdays at 3pm at North Coast Brewing on this finest of Wednesdays. After a few rounds, we wish them the best and are on our way. Swimming in the icy pacific, some pretty awesome burritos and a few more fuzzy talks (probably due to Jameson for Donal's birthday) and again it's early to sleep, ready for an early rise tomorrow for the longest day of the trip.

Thursday, Sept. 23rd :: Day 3

The alarm sounds, the tikka clicks on, breath illuminated in its beam, surrounded by pre-dawn darkness. Drag myself from bed, down to breakfast which ends at 6:30. Despite the dark, cold, and dampness that engulfs the campsite, I'm one of the last people up. I reach breakfast as people start to leave. I'm okay with this. Team Aggressively Slow is in the last 10 to leave camp. We'll probably be in the last 10 to arrive, but that's okay. We'll ride quickly and enjoy the stops along the way longer than most. It's finally light by the time we do leave, and it's golden hour as we wind our way through the first stretches of the century. The light on the coastal meadows illuminates them in a captivating way. There's little talking, though the silence is punctuated frequently by whoops and hollers as we vocalize the literally breathtaking surroundings. We feel lucky that the photographer Kip is leapfrogging us and making us look like gods.

As we continue through the morning the magic doesn't fade. As the sun moves higher, we find ourselves at road construction. But all this means is that they've stopped traffic, and have recently completed repaving the road. We have miles of fresh pavement to ourselves and the coastal ecosystems that we speed past. We continue along Route 1, traveling past more and more small villages, and fewer and fewer logging trucks. Where they originated from remains a mystery. We come to the Sea Ranch development before lunch, a 12 mile coastal development of a bygone era. The grey clapboards and irregular angles reflect a dream of a northern CA millionaire's retreat that never bore fruit. While people do live here, it is not nearly the mecca it's funders hoped for. Soon after, lunch is reached and not a moment too soon. In this last stretch, I feel the weakest I will the entire trip. Considering it comes after the entire distance of yesterday, this makes sense. Still 35 miles to go before camp today though.

With skills of a professional debater, David Kroodsma (back story, DK rode his bike 16,000 miles from Alaska to Argentina and then across country to raise awareness on climate issues, and now often rides in this area, also now a member of agro slow team) convinces me at lunch to accompany him on an extreme detour for the rest of the day. Instead of continuing along the coast (past some of the most beautiful stretches of the entire trip), we head inland and up into the middle of the King Range. A climb twice as big as yesterdays (and far steeper) brings us quickly from the coast to inland California, where dry farmlands and vineyards dot the hillsides. The road belongs to us. And some cows. In twenty miles, DK and I are passed by less cars than I could count on both hands. The stillness of the day is stunningly apparent. Highlights of the excursion include a famed photoshoot on top (Wild Cockabeast followers stand by) and a run-in with a lizard who totally owned me as I harmlessly took photos (resulting in the only scrape I sustained the entire trip). After a huge downhill off the ridge to the campsite, we arrived to appreciated applause (as did everyone completing the century), and set up camp that would never be used. We celebrated the longest day with beer, wine and backrubs and camp that night under the stars. I discover a new constellation, that we name felix.

Friday, Sept. 24th :: Day 4

Wet sleeping bags, low mist hanging overhead, a buzz of people crawling from their tents between us and the rising sun to the east. We are four cold lumps in the middle of a field. I head over to the mechanics and begin observing as Mark re-greases my bottom bracket, checks my crank arms, and re-tapes my handlebars. My bike has had a hard-to-diagnose creak that has been bumming me out when I loose track of the beauty around me. Hopefully this will help. After breakfast and bike fixes, I'm in the last five to leave camp. I've told the team to ride ahead, and I blast to catch up. With an average of 20+ for the first six miles, I catch them eventually. We stop early in the day for a wine tasting, and after taking a tour of the winery and drinking a lot of wine, we're well at the back of the pack. We ride quickly, inland for the first time since reaching the coast. There's heavy traffic in parts, and pretty blasé scenery for morning, but after lunch we again find ourselves in rolling countryside by ourselves. After a few large hills, we are back to the sea. We head along Tomales Bay, drifting along a newly paved road for some 15 miles of short ups and fun downs. This section of road is a major highlight of the entire trip. Fittingly, we stop for oysters at a small shack with a massive redwood slab for a bar right on the water. Enjoying some impressively delicate oysters, and in the best of company, we ride with grins on our faces for the rest of the trip to camp.

It's the last night of the ride and it feels like that. There's an energy that is hard to bottle. Lauren, Jess and I take a trip to get beer and s'more making ingredients past the "cute bar" and into the only shop in town. There are some awesome speakers, and a campfire that goes easily until 1am. Hey, it's the last night and there's only 45 miles to ride tomorrow. We find felix again, confirming that we've actually discovered our own constellation, and team tall sleeps for the last time in tent small.

Saturday, Sept. 25th :: Day 5

It's actually rather bright as the zipper opens in tent small. We eat, and pack up camp on this last morning, trying to act less exhausted than we are. After a final route meeting with the leaders, we depart camp and ride quickly towards the town of Fairfax, California and it's famed Scoops ice cream joint. For the first 15 miles, the route is deliberate and the routine of riding a bike has now fully set in. I concentrate not on my riding, or for this short stretch even the people around me, but allow my mind to wander and reflect on this past week, and on my life ahead. A great peace comes over me, and I have that feeling that I am exactly where I should be at that moment. The world's timeline is in tandem with my own. And I realize that it is exactly for moments like this that everyone should make time for adventures that push you to an elevated normalcy; a place where your body adapts to its new stresses and refines inputs and outputs to increase efficiency and clarity.

Scoops isn't open. Coffee and pastries it is. Team aggressively slow is the last one to leave town, and help the sweep to take down signs to lunch. After lunch, most of the team pushes ahead, but I stay back to keep Devin company as we take the signs down from here to the golden gate. It's kind of fun really pulling up the rear. After another hour, we have our first sites of San Francisco from the town of Sausalito and soon after the great Golden Gate Bridge. We've done it, ladies and gentlemen. All rider photo. Team Aggressively Slow photo. OVER THE GOLDEN GATE AND INTO SAN FRANCISCO WE GO. We arrive at Tour de Fat, Fat Tire Brewing's roving bicycle and beer bonanza and it is a spectacle for thirsty eyes. Here we witness what happens when bicycle enthusiasts meet artistic welders and circus architects powered by free beer. Mmmmm holistically tasty. A ridiculous off-road shortcut back to Kezar Stadium led by Donal is the only fitting end to this incredible adventure.

My trip odometer reads 344.52. I guess we took some long-cuts...Oops.

Sunday - Thursday, September 26th-30th

In the days following the ride, I try to take in as much of San Francisco as possible, while visiting my grandmother in Oakland as much as possible. Nights are generally spent in the city, days are generally spent in the east bay. I don't feel recapping this section of my trip would do it justice, but I want to thank everyone who made that experience as good as it was. You are all amazing people, and I truly appreciate you sharing your city with me.