Jan and John – As I indicated in my previous post, reserving a bunk ahead of time for two nights at the hostel in Cambria was a wise move. The second night, a Saturday, turned out to be a problem. Not for me, but for the people who kept walking in or calling and asking for a bed.
I was sitting in the common room late Saturday afternoon plinking away on my keyboard, when two elderly cyclists walked in, deeply tanned and hunched over with fatigue. Jan announced that she and John are from England and are doing a benefit ride from Seattle to San Diego on behalf of an English charity. They had ridden 70+ miles down the coast from Big Sur and were looking for a place to rest their weary bodies for the evening. Unfortunately for them, the inn was full up, every bed taken. Jan and John sagged a bit more, their weariness increasing with the bad news.
They were riding without camping gear and needed to stay at a hostel, an inn or a motel. Jan asked if they could just sleep on the couches in the hostel, but that’s a no-no. Melissa, one of the hostel volunteers, offered to call around to try to find a room somewhere nearby. Apparently this was a very popular weekend on the central coast, and every place nearby that she called was full up. Jan and John continued to sag. Eventually, Melissa did find a room at an inn back up the coast several miles in the stretch of accomodations just south of Hearst Castle. The price was rather dear, but Jan and John had no choice.
As an act of international compassion, Melissa offered the use of her car to have Kim, another hostel volunteer, drive them and their bikes back up the coast to the inn with the remaining room. I helped load their bags in the trunk of her car, then loaded and secured their bikes on the bike rack. Off they went, me thinking of the old saying “your lack of planning does not constitute an emergency on my part.”
The next morning I was on my way south to Morro Bay to stay with my friends Barb and Bob, who live there. I don’t have to worry about finding a room at the inn in Morro Bay, since I just sack out on their floor with my comfy REI camping mat and a sleeping bag. Just before I reached the small town of Cayucos, I drove past two deeply tanned cyclists heading south on touring bikes. Goodness, Jan and John. I pulled over and waited for them to reach me, greeted them again and took a photo.
Fat Tire Time – I continued on down the highway to Morro Bay and the home of my friends. Up until now the rides I had done during this trip were all road bike rides, but I did have my Voodoo mountain bike and decided that today was the day to use it. It was broken down with wheels and pedals removed, the bottom layer of all the gear in the back of my wagon. I pulled just about everything out of the car to get at it, re-assembled it, then put everything else back in the car. Bob pointed me to a trailhead just south of Morro Bay, so I got the pedals spinning and headed that way. Thankfully, these trails are part of the Morro Bay State Park, so they were not shut down by the federal government closure. Up I went and found a fairly extensive network of trails with lovely views, but parched. I did maybe 10 miles on the trails, finishing with a dry throat and a dusty bike.
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