Quick note: All of this post was written by Alyssa, not Kevin per usual!

October 18, 2021

Kelso, CA to Amboy, CA

We woke up to the continuing sounds of way more people than one would expect at a closed, antique train depot in the geographic middle of the Mojave National Preserve, the ranger’s warning from yesterday fresh in our minds. Belongings packed up, we chatted with Scott for a bit before heading off. It was really interesting to meet someone who was long-haul trucking like ourselves. Normally we’re packing way heavier than other bike tourists we run across but Scott shared our “well this is my actual house for the medium term future” philosophy. The morning started with another slow, grueling climb – although less intense than the previous days and without the nasty headwind. Kevin dealt with it pretty well, but I think my exhaustion from Vegas caught up with me and my climb ended up being more of a personal existential hell. Picture me openly sobbing as I heavy foot it up a hill, contemplating the series of factors that led me to this very moment. As always though, once the grade chills out my mood soon follows. Also, I think I’d rather cry in the middle of a stunning vista than in a closet at work. All day we were surrounded by endless plains covered in Joshua trees and desert scrub. I continue to be surprised by the variation in landscape we encounter as we travel. Although we’ve been riding through “the desert” basically since Utah, each region looks and feels completely different. Utah feels like a different planet while the desert here is exactly the kind of desert in any movie scene where a dead body is getting buried.

After the morning’s uphill, we enjoyed a long, screaming downhill to Route 66. Today marked the first time we actually took the most famous “Chicago to Los Angeles” route. The headwind was back, and we later found out that the day had an official Wind Advisory. As we fought against what felt like a brick wall, we saw a couple of big ornamental, alabaster statues in the middle of an empty field. They were each clearly weathered and had an assortment of offerings left there, including unopened pop-tarts, a tootsie roll, an Arizona Iced Tea and some change. We later learned, no one knows why they are there but they’ve been there for decades at least. Deepening the mystery, an unclaimed gold buddha showed up three miles down the road a couple of years ago.

As we arrived in Amboy, CA – population 1, we were cheered by Charlotte and Todd, a lovely couple from Colorado who were doing a trip in their van. They were fellow bike people, and we enjoyed chatting for a moment. They generously topped up our water supplies since Amboy does not actually have potable water.

The keeper of the property told us we could set up camp in one of the old bungalows for the night. We happily explored the handful of abandoned 1940’s bungalows and chose the one with the most glass in the windows and least glass on the floor. While the buildings themselves were completely open to the elements and mostly stripped, they had clearly been recently painted and looked pristine from far enough away. We later found out they had been painted for a movie shoot. The juxtaposition of the fresh paint and dilapidated interiors was eerie vibe, and made it easy to imagine what Amboy must have been like in its heyday. We hung around the gas station during the day and retired to our home in the evening to make mac n’ cheese on our stove. Every so often tourists would pull in and explore the bungalows – seeing the look of surprise and embarrassment as they realized there were people living in one of them was the evening’s entertainment. After blocking the wind whistling through the most broken window with some doors I found lying around, we both slept soundly inside for the night.

October 19, 2021

Amboy, CA to Joshua Tree, CA

We woke up, got packed pretty quickly and had a nice morning chat with Vince, the person on duty that morning, as we charged some of our electronics inside. Once we got moving, we were rudely stopped about a mile down the road by a series of extremely long freight trains. After what felt like an eternity, but was actually about 25 minutes we were able to keep going and started the day’s climb. It was MUCH more gentle than the previous day and we enjoyed the weird, stark landscape as we passed through. Amboy is in a valley and within sight of a volcano (what?) and a salt mine, along with an endless expanse of the Mojave. After the climb we got to enjoy another screaming downhill, and a stunning view of Wonder Valley. The scenery is barren, beautiful, terrifying and speckled with various weird ruins and shacks – some inhabited but mostly not. As we got closer to Twentynine Palms we started seeing more actual homes and more weird desert art. This is a Thing apparently. People just construct public art installations out in the middle of nowhere. These people are heroes in my book. Stumbling across these gives me a moment where I can pretend I’m a real explorer, and the ability to experience something unexpected, one that I haven’t researched or looked up all the reviews on prior to arriving.

We also stumbled upon another magical place, The Glass Outhouse. We pulled up and saw a sign advertising “Art Tours” in front of an assortment of buildings that were surrounded by a sea of sculptures and various found objects. Laurel, the owner, was chilling under some shade with her dog and gave us the rundown after inviting us to help ourselves to her fridge full of ice-cold, completely free drinks. The Glass Outhouse is an art gallery that operates on a first-come, first-served philosophy, taking no commission whatsoever. Any artist can sign up to show here, there’s no barrier other than waiting your turn. The property is named after – you guessed it – a glass outhouse that is actually the functioning bathroom for the gallery. It’s constructed of mirrored glass on the outside, allowing the user to see out but no one to see in. What a trip to use, I don’t think I’ve had a more interesting pee.

We kept on trucking after touring the galleries and soon found ourselves in Twentynine Palms. We stopped at the Jelly Donut, a bakery slash pho shop and had some food while we figured out our next steps. The last few days going through the Mojave National Preserve had left us both pretty wiped and we didn’t think we could make it the extra 18 miles to our host’s house for the evening so we started looking at motels and let Gary know we weren’t going to make it. He generously offered to come get us and I’m so glad we accepted. 20 minutes later we were at his place, an amazing, handcrafted desert paradise.

Gary is a man of many lives, having been an EMT, a Ski Patroller, owner of a farm and most recently the operator of an outfitter in Joshua Tree. He had also just recently finished a bicycle tour of his own, enjoying the generosity of many people along the way and was amped to be able to return the favor. He had set up a little paradise for us in his old Vanagon, bringing out water, tea, an extension cord and a freaking gourmet cheese plate. Despite the “This is Not Your AirBnb” sign at the end of his driveway, our arrival felt a lot more like a curated, luxury AirBnb than your typical Warmshowers experience. We hung out that evening, trading road stories and enjoying the space that Gary had built. He offered to let us stay for another night and we eagerly accepted.

October 20, 2021

Joshua Tree, CA rest day

We were both pretty beat from the past few days, moving through a resource-scarce, mostly waterless landscape was challenging, rewarding and tiring and I know we were both looking forward to having a day to recuperate and take care of some errands. Gary, the superhero of this story, drove us all over town so we could mail some packages and stock up on supplies before we ventured into Joshua Tree National Park. Kevin and I did some laundry, made phone calls, confirmed our route for the next few days and just generally Got Shit Done with Gary’s help. Kevin made his famous Pad Kra Pow for dinner and retired to enjoy D&D while Gary and I watched Rear Window with Rosa, his tiny, adorable, nervous dog.

October 21, 2021

Joshua Tree, CA to Joshua Tree National Park

After another amazing night of sleep in the Vanagon, we got up and got packing while enjoying the morning with Gary. He graciously allowed me to interview him for my project, a truly legendary guy I feel lucky to have met. We refused his kind offer of breakfast in lieu of checking out a bakery in town that he had recommended the previous day. After a bittersweet goodbye, we hit that – literally, since Gary lives off a couple mile long dirt (read: sand) road – dusty trail. I think I felt particularly wistful leaving Gary’s place since I feel such a deep connection to the landscapes out here. I can only hope that by the time I’m his age, I will have created a life and home as honest and beautiful as his for myself. On our way into town we encountered an extremely enthusiastic construction worker. He passed me honking and made me jump, I think he realized this and slowed down to give me a thumbs up to clarify the intentions behind the honking. I waved and continued on. A couple miles later, we encountered the same guy on the side of the road on top of a hill. This time he was filming us with a huge, cheesin’ grin on his face and throwing us a very powerful thumbs up. We laughed and waved as we passed – it was a cute interaction and propelled us into town.

We stopped at Boo’s Organic Bakery and got an embarrassingly large assortment of breads, cookies and pie. As promised, everything was delicious and we both remarked on the “hipness” of the place. It felt like a trendy bakery back home – the kind of place where the employees are cooler than you and let you know it. It had been a long time since we encountered a business like that and I think we both realized just how close to LA we were getting. We headed into the park, and made it to our campground after a some moderate, though gentle climbing and stunning views. Gary had recommended Hidden Valley campground and we were able to snag the very last available site in the place. The campground snakes around a series of huge rock structures, this was the world class rock climbing that we had heard about. In fact, as we first rolled into the campground a group of people yelled down to me from the top of a rock formation, offering to let us camp in their site if we couldn’t find an open one. So nice! We set up camp and Kevin went to work on some photos while I found a shady cave to read in.

I went for a ride around the campground and surrounding area while Kevin finished a drawing he was working on and as I returned I saw a group of people milling around our site and a guy talking to Kevin. Anticipating trouble, I walked over to see what was up. Instead of trouble, I found Josh – a truly lovely human who was on his own journey around the American West and was hoping he could car camp in one of the parking spots at our site. We happily obliged (we certainly weren’t using the spot!) and a few minutes later another new friend pulled up to see if he could use the other spot. We said we were fine with it, although our neighbor in the next site over seemed to have an issue with it. After some discussion, Alex parked his truck in our remaining parking spot and we got to meet him, his wife Izzy and their beautiful three-month old daughter Goldie. They were on the 7th week of a trip of their own, just bumming around California, climbing and enjoying nature. It’s so cool how traveling via bicycle opens you up to crossing paths with people this way. We all chatted for a bit, then Alex, Izzy and Goldie went to hang out with his friends a few sites down the road. Kevin and I ate dinner and hung out with Josh. What a nice guy – his background was in outdoor education and he had the perfect energy for it. Just a super calm, friendly, thoughtful guy. His vibe was exactly the same as warm sunshine, just a chill, warm, comforting guy. He revealed that it was his 40th birthday the following day, and his wish for it had come true – that he got to spend it with some new friends! Earlier I expressed how much I wanted to learn how to rock climb, and he and Alex offered to show me the ropes (sorry, I had to) tomorrow if Kevin and I could stick around. Um, yes, definitely we were going to stick around the following day. We quickly calculated that we had enough food and water to safely hang out tomorrow and still reach our planned destination for the following day. We chatted some more with Josh, trading road stories and sharing in each other’s wonder at the natural world. Kevin stayed up, but I went to bed early, excited and nervous about tomorrow.

October 22, 2021

Joshua Tree National Park to Wild camp on BLM land just outside Joshua Tree National Park

The following morning I woke up early and started getting the stove out to make tea, but before I could do it Josh was already at it with his Coleman propane stove. We had breakfast and then him and Alex got down to the serious business of selecting an appropriate climb for me. I had done some indoor rock climbing in gym class during Junior High but had not done any climbing since then. It was like listening to people speak a different language, I truly could not follow what the hell they were talking about with all the climbing jargon. I also did not really understand what a huge effort this was for these guys to give me this experience. Traditional climbing involves a ton of planning, preparation and gear – I was so lucky to have met two people willing to derail their morning to share this with me. They picked a climb that Alex deemed good “but like, pretty high up though” and we headed over. I know I’m belaboring the point but it was so meaningful to me how cool these guys were. A lot of niche sports tend to be male-dominated, and can often have an unfriendly, competitive energy. I know cycling is absolutely guilty of this, but Alex and Josh had 0 percent of that type of attitude. They were just open, chill and happy to share this thing they both loved with me. We got over there and Josh went into outdoor-ed mode, explaining everything he was doing as he did it. Alex belayed for Josh while he led and set up the route for us.

Traditional climbing is climbing where there isn’t a pre-set route or anything already set into the rock. That means somebody has to climb up there and set the rope, securing the line using metal devices called “cams” that lodge into crevasses in the rock. Once at the top, Josh built an anchor – essentially a super strong attachment point – then Alex belayed while Josh floated back down on the rope he had set up. They got me set up in my harness, then Alex headed back to camp. Josh showed me how to belay and tie the knot to my harness, then it was go time. Our plan was for me to climb to the top, come back down with Josh belaying from below. Then I’d belay while he climbed up and removed the cams. Then he’d belay from the top, I would climb back up and we’d both walk off the back of the rock structure. I cannot say enough what a chill dude Josh was. I was so excited to climb but also – this shit is for real scary (!) and made more so by my lack of proper climbing shoes. He gently encouraged me from below, and was so patient when I got stuck a couple of times and needed to take a minute to strategize my next move. The climb was a perfect first one, mostly fairly easy but with a couple challenging, vertical sections. That first time up, I definitely had a moment where I considered giving up and coming back down but with Josh’s energy buoying me – I kept going. The high when I figured out the route up and made it to the top was sublime. Climbing is for sure physical, but it has a lot of mental game as well, which is a bit different from cycling. It felt like chess sort of, I’d get stuck then just sit there and think about where I could put my hands and feet for my next move. It felt like a video game or pinball almost, where you’re stumped but then you can almost see the route appear in front of you, bingo. The next step was coming back down, which involved just full ass leaning back and letting your body weight pull you back down. I thought it would be more scary to let go of the rock and just fall back but it wasn’t bad at all, probably because I had nature’s valium, Josh, talking me through it. After that, I was hooked. Josh climbed back up, set up his belay device and gave me the green light to come back up. The second time was way easier, I had a bit more confidence and my nerves had calmed down as well. I got to the top and we just grinned at each other as we took in the views. We goofed around on top of the rock for a bit, taking pictures and gushing about the beauty of the park, then headed back down. I walked back to the campsite like I was goddamn John Wayne or something, just flying on the feeling of having done something that both scared and excited me. Alex, Izzy and Goldie were chilling at the site when I got back and they all congratulated me, then we chatted as I had some food before packing up the rest of our stuff.

We hung for a bit longer, as Kevin packed up and got ready I watched Josh, Alex and some of Alex’s friends do a “crack” climb – then we said our goodbyes and left. I was still deliriously happy from that morning and just flew through the 50-odd miles we had planned for the rest of the day. The rest of the park was beautiful, and I was vibing. The Stones’ “Sticky Fingers” and The Zombies “Begin Here” took me all the way to the Cottonwood Visitor center on the southern edge of the park. We had a bitch of a climb to get up there, but I could barely feel it after the good vibes of that morning. Kevin was back on earth, not having climbed up the face of a freaking rock that day and trailed behind me for most of the afternoon. We reunited at Cottonwood Visitor Center, washed up in the bathrooms and refilled our water supplies. Taking advantage of the running water and picnic table, I got the stove out and made dinner for us. On the menu – triscuits and mushroom-hazelnut quinoa. As we were finishing up dinner, an older gentlemen approached us and turns out he grew up in Chicago, in Ukrainian Village of all places! We chatted with him for a bit, then cleaned up and got ready to ride the 6 remaining miles to a BLM site just outside of the park. As a nice end to a perfect day, the last 6 miles were completely downhill and we enjoyed an amazing sunset as we effortlessly rolled through the magical southern edge of the park, where the Mojave and Colorado deserts meet and plants from both ecosystems coexist. We got to camp and set up our tent just in time, the sun fully setting maybe 15 minutes later. We were both tired, and I happily fell asleep shortly after.

October 23, 2021

Wild camp on BLM land near Joshua Tree National Park to Slab City, CA

We woke up and got going fairly quickly, looking forward to some more downhill miles. We had a fairly hefty day ahead of us (IN MILEAGE), but were heading down into one of the lowest places in the continental U.S. so felt confident we could handle it. The morning started off with some peaceful and beautiful riding as we followed a local highway that we basically had to ourselves. We descended into and through a long box canyon, a landscape I hadn’t scene before which is super different from a typical craggy, canyon. It’s literally just a big flat expanse, walled in on both sides by high canyon walls. It felt weirdly constructed and surreal, even though it wasn’t (other than the road running through it).

This eventually gave way to flat land as we reached the Salton Trough, which is comprised of barren desert, plots of farmland, the Chocolate Mountains to the east and the glittering Salton Sea to the west. The Salton Sea is a 15 by 35 mile landlocked lake that was formed by a one off inflow of water from the Colorado River in 1905, and is basically famous for being one of the biggest “ecological disasters in California’s history”. Since the lake has no water coming in, it’s been slowly evaporating for the past 100 years, increasing in salinity and being further contaminated by runoff from the surrounding farms. In the 1940’s and 50’s a lot of resorts were developed with the vision of making the Salton Sea a sort of Palm Springs-esque destination for holiday makers from Los Angeles. Once the salinity started worsening in the 1970’s and 1980’s massive fish die offs occurred, causing subsequent die offs in bird populations that depended on those fish and sometimes causing the beaches to become FLOODED WITH FISH CARCASSES (for real!). Obviously, the resort dream died and many of these properties were abandoned and still remain in their disintegrating state. We came upon our first “town” of the day and stopped at a Mexican grocery store to get supplies for the next couple of days and enjoy some tasty paletas. We had entered date country and rode through cultivated plots of tall date palms until we got out of town. The Salton Sea is huge and bizarre. We pulled over at the Salton Sea Recreation Area to check out the beach and see if it was as disgusting as we had heard. I have never been to a stranger beach, the landscape there feels otherworldly and post-apocalyptic. The beach itself is made up of strange spongy sections that feel like I’d imagine the surface of the moon is like, briny dried salt licks and strips of “sand” that look more like weird fragile teeth. We later found out that these were crushed up fish bones from the massive wildlife die offs. The water itself is super clear, and you can see various dead plants and other petrified relics at the bottom and poking up along the shore. We spent some time walking around and marveling at the harsh, barren beauty of this place before continuing back along the road.

Our next planned stop of the day was at Bombay Beach, a mostly abandoned resort town that has been basically turned into a public art installation but notably has one extant restaurant/bar – The Ski Inn. I was really enjoying the riding. We were taking one road alongside the entire coastline of the sea, with mountains framing the vista to my left, the sparkling sea to my right, just vibing and getting sun drunk. The clarity of the sun in a place like that is a narcotic, even if the temperature is fairly mild – it feels like it’s clearing you out the same way it’ll take down an animal carcass to pure white skeleton. We got to Bombay Beach and found the Ski Inn, which turned out to be a truly legendary dive bar. The walls and ceiling are covered in dollar bills, there’s weird art all over the walls and bar is tended by an impeccably dressed woman in her 70’s who says things like “what’s your poison, sugar?” with complete conviction and authenticity. We started off with some ice cold pops but the locals bought us a round and we enjoyed the company before heading out to explore the town proper. The town itself is maybe 10 by 10 blocks of alternating well-kept trailers where people are clearly living, and decaying structures that have been turned into art installations. The beach itself is covered in spooky, strange structures. There were a few other tourists at the beach and it did have a bit of an “instagram museum” energy, installations clearly constructed and set up for the photo op, but some of the pieces were truly huge and moving. We meandered through the rest of town then carried on since we wanted to make it to Slab City before dark.

We stopped for dinner in the town of Niland, about four miles from Slab City and the nearest place with any services. The meal was super spot hitting and the guy running the restaurant was getting a kick out of teasing us in our slightly-delirious, sun-drunk state. Replenished, we headed down the road to Slab City which quickly becomes very clearly unmaintained and rough as you go towards the settlement.

Slab City is an off-grid community in the Sonoran Desert that has acted as home to various artists, transients, addicts and fellow misfits of all kinds since the 1940’s when the military base on the site was closed and deconstructed, leaving just the namesake concrete slabs. The community is known as “The Last Free Place on Earth” and gets a fair amount of tourist traffic due to the folk art installations within, most famously Salvation Mountain. Despite this, it is essentially a homeless encampment and the energy was vaguely spooky as we got into “town.” The city itself is made up of a small central grid of dirt roads but the settlements and camps are arrayed in a mostly nonsensical manner, decreasing in density as you get further from the central grid. We followed the very specific directions our hosts for the night gave us and had no problems finding their camp. We were welcomed by Ryan, one of the three people making up the family that created Rabbitside, who gave us some tips on navigating around, told us about the open mic night at The Range and showed us our campsite and the hand built outhouse and shed for storing our belongings.

We set up camp and walked over to The Range, a completely self-built, self-generated full service music venue that hosts an open-mic every Saturday. Kev & I sat in the back and enjoyed the show, from the musicians to the patrons. Ryan had wisely given us a warning that sometimes later in the evening the vibe changes from “fun” to more “bottle smash-ey” so I was keeping my feelers tuned for that but the vibes that evening were impeccable. The musicians were varied, from some clear-old timers playing classic rock standards you’d expect, to a real cowboy playing Townes Van Zandt covers but kept forgetting them halfway through and apologizing in a very sweet way, to my personal favorite – a fierce queen dressed like a cross between Iggy Pop and Karen O who played heartbreakingly honest music unaccompanied, on a banjo. I tuned into a conversation happening on our left, which seemed to be between a couple of tourists and a local. The male tourist was asking increasingly invasive questions that were making the other person obviously uncomfortable, so I piped up – asking if the tourists were from Chicago, as I had overheard earlier. Conversation successfully re-directed, the tourist couple invited K & I for a drink and we went to one of the restaurants just across the street. Keep in mind – these are completely self-powered, self-constructed buildings and businesses. This one served amazing orange floats, and K & I split one while we got to know Hannah & Garrett – perfectly lovely people who were Chicago transplants now living in LA. Their intention was to go a bit harder that evening than Kevin & I, so we bid farewell and headed back to our tent to sleep.

October 24, 2021

Slab City, CA to Westmorland, CA

We woke up and found fresh eggs outside our tent that Ryan had left. I got up and fried them with some tortillas for breakfast while Kevin got ready and finished packing up. We enjoyed our breakfast in this strange place, stashed our gear in the shed and walked across the way to say good morning to Ryan, Jessie and Peter. We were invited into the compound for a tour and to hang out for a bit before exploring the rest of Slab City. Their story is truly insane and the home they’ve built in one of the most physically inhospitable places in the country, where average highs in July & August are around 110 degrees, is inspiring and a wonderful thing to see.

Their attitude towards Slab City is nuanced and honest – while they appreciate what they’ve gotten out of their time here, especially at a time when they did not really have a lot of other options, they realize that it’s not a place for staying, or a place that one should aspire to be. It’s ideally a way station, a place for people who aren’t allowed to or can’t tolerate existing in more mainstream places to land, gain their footing, learn about themselves and hopefully move on. There’s a lot of romanticism involved in the lore and media about this place, its slogan is “The Last Free Place on Earth” and it really is a repository and breeding ground for an amazing amount of folk art but it’s also true, for our hosts and in the words of many of the performers at the open mic night, that most people who live there would prefer other options if they were available to them. We got the full Rabbitside tour, I recommend checking out their website and YouTube channel if you’re interested in learning more about their homestead. Some highlights for me were the water filtration system they’d built using live oysters and a bunch of other stuff I did not understand, the entire animal sanctuary they were running, which included multiple tortoises, ducks, chickens and dogs, and Jessie’s art studio.

I could write an entire entry about Jessie’s studio and the magic that was contained therein. She is a multi-faceted creator and artist who does work in a number of mediums, but I was particularly moved by her work with paper. She hand makes her own paper, uses found objects and ephemera and transforms them into moving miniature works, incorporates sewing and thread into her pieces…and too much to recount. I felt so honored that she felt safe bringing Kevin and I into what was obviously a special space where she creates incredibly personal works of art. We hung out a bit longer before walking over to the East Jesus encampment and enjoying the public sculpture garden they’ve built. I’m not even going to describe it, because I’m sure Kevin will put a bunch of photos that will speak for themselves. We returned to Rabbitside, packed up and completed yet another farewell in the increasingly endless seeming parade of bittersweet goodbyes that are now a part of our life.

Once packed, we headed over to the library, hoping to make it there before it got too “schwilly” (new vocab, taught by us to Jessie, try to guess what it means). The library turned out to be actually amazing and a better collection than many of the small town “official” libraries that we had seen thus far. I grabbed a few zines to mail back home, bemoaning how heavy books are and my general inability to accumulate possessions on this trip. Another tourist made a fuss about wearing a mask inside the library, K & I commiserated about the general awfulness of the worldview that would lead a person to act that way with the librarian. The tourism aspect to Slab City is particularly weird and problematic. Although they contribute economically to the Slabs, as many of the restaurants and other businesses selling art and trinkets cater to tourists – there’s definitely something problematic about people (including us!) coming to gawk at what is essentially a homeless encampment and one I would argue created out of the general awfulness and unsustainability of modern life in America. We saw multiple BMW’s careening through the Slabs, going way too fast and the queasy feeling that sight gave me sums up the vibe. Leaving the library, we tooled around the main streets before heading out.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful, we had about 20 miles to our motel in Westmorland and stopped once to have tacos and donuts at a place that we were happy to find served both. K & I were both very exhausted from the last few days of heavy miles & no services and were really looking forward to a bed and a shower – the first for either of us in three days. We made it to the motel, checked in, showered and did laundry and got some food – tacos for me & Lil Caesars for K – before bedding down for some well-deserved sleep. (Note from Kevin: This was actually the first time we’d slept indoors since Las Vegas. The desert is weird!)

October 25, 2021

Westmorland, CA rest day

We both woke up pretty exhausted and had a slow start to the morning, lazing around and struggling to get momentum going. We were overjoyed to find that the continental breakfast included scrambled eggs, sausage and hash browns – the first time we’d encountered this post-COVID! Around 10am, the hotel and – we later found out – entire region lost power. While it had flickered on and off a few times that morning, this time was for real and we ended up being without electricity until 5:30pm, with a brief 45 minute reprieve in the afternoon that we used to watch as much of Die Hard 2: Die Harder as was possible. I think I was tired because the lack of electricity put me in an overly sour mood. We lived most days without electricity, and the one goddamn day that we pay to live inside the entire region goes dark! Of course. Since the power in the entire region was down, our cell phone data was also very weak – I assume we were connecting to a tower further away than the one we had previously been connecting to. We couldn’t get much work on the route or planning done with our weak data so instead decided to walk around the town and check out the Date Shake, a health food store/date emporium famous for it’s date flavored milkshake. Kevin got one, and it was actually pretty good, and a perfect bike touring food since dates are one of the highest calories substances known to man. Once the power came back on, Kevin took a long bath and I called Devon to catch up. We figured out our route for the next few days over dinner, pretty respectable tacos from the grocery across the street, and went to bed.

October 26, 2021

Westmorland, CA to Anza Borrego Desert State Park – Tamarisk Campground

After another disgusting and awesome display of our endless appetites at the continental breakfast, we packed up and headed out. Before leaving, I took an entire bag of cereal, two bananas and a bagel for later because I am now a shameless grifter. (K: I’ve taught her well!) The plan was to ride across the desert to the foothills of the Cuyamaca Range and camp that evening in Anza Borrego State Park so we could rest before climbing up into Julian – between Westmorland and Julian was a vertical difference of about 4000 feet. We started riding on a fairly generous shoulder alongside 78/86, a popular trucking route to and from Mexicali. The scenery was mostly agricultural, with some hay farms and ranches slowly turning into barren desert. We came upon a super long line of traffic, in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, which turned out to be a U.S. Border Patrol checkpoint. The guard to my left held back a lunging German Shepherd while the guy to my right asked me if I was a U.S. Citizen. Once I responded in the affirmative, he waved me aside and told me to have a safe ride. I think being a bicycle tourist would be a great cover for a smuggling operation, although the only contraband I was secreting on my person was my stolen bounty from the continental breakfast that morning.

Once we turned onto 78, traffic became basically nonexistent and we had a super gentle grade through the desert towards Anza Borrego State Park. We reached the town of Ocotillo Wells after about 30 miles and turned off as planned in order to top up our water supplies. We realized all the businesses in town were currently closed, but were able to bother the owner of the local RV park for some water. He genially responded “well, I give water to animals all the time so why not you guys I suppose” and sufficiently watered, we continued down the road. Once back on the road, both Kevin and I realized that the quality of the sun had changed drastically. That morning had been relatively cool, and we were pedaling with a light breeze and were able to stay mostly dry. After our little break, we were under attack. I pulled over to put on my scarf and long sleeve, because trying to fight sun like this with mere sunscreen is a fool’s errand and a lesson I had learned long ago. We trucked on and the scenery started to become wild. We were surrounded by the most bizarre and beautiful cacti we had seen thus far; little spiky pink melon shaped california barrels, the confusingly soft-looking ombre-toned cholla, long thin fan shaped ocotillos and many more I couldn’t identify. The amount and diversity of life in America’s deserts continues to amaze me.

About 4 miles before our planned destination, a primitive BLM campsite, we passed by a completely empty, full service campground. After conferring by the side of the road and confirming it was not a mirage, we rode over to check it out. It was indeed, a lovely, empty campground with tables, fire pits, running water, showers and even an open WiFi network! What a lovely, unplanned treat. The good vibes from this discovery could not be brought down, even after realizing that the water was not potable (after some research we realized this was because the park did not have sufficient funds to upgrade their reverse osmosis system and thus did not do regular testing of the water any longer – that was okay though since we had planned on primitive camping, we brought plenty of water to drink). We made mac n’ cheese for dinner, I did my bodyweight workout in one of the unlocked cabins and Kevin played music for a while. We had one neighbor show up, who very courteously picked the only site that was not visible from ours and enjoyed the relative solitude of the evening. It was a good day.

October 27, 2021

Anza Borrego Desert State Park to Escondido, CA

What a day! We woke up in Tamarisk Campground after a nice quiet night’s sleep. We took the time to boil water for muesli and tea and after a leisurely morning, I hit the road to start climbing. Kevin hung behind for a few minutes to finish getting ready, since he usually climbs way faster than me I was sure he’d catch up soon enough. The day started with a gentle grade through the desert, and slowly started wrapping around and through the mountains. About an hour in, we came upon Banner – a small town with a convenience store and some ranches. A truck coming from the opposite direction clocked me, did a u-turn and pulled over to warn me about the upcoming steep grade. The climb from Banner into Julian is so famously steep that it’s got its own name “The Banner Grade.” Its reputation preceded it and I think both Kevin and I were a little scared. All morning I kept waiting for the Bad Part but to be honest, I thought the grading was pretty generous and there were plenty of switchbacks. It was the kind of climb I enjoy, little steep sections with lots of switchbacks and curves to give you a break. It was bizarre to watch the landscape change, we had woken up in an actual desert, with no potable water, surrounded by cacti and were slowly climbing into a pastoral scene replete with fall foliage, grass, and freshly baked apple pies. About two miles before Julian I ran into Russ, a fellow cyclist who was doing his morning training ride down to Banner and back up. He turned around rode uphill with me for a minute, commiserating about the climb and giving me the inside scoop on the best pie place in Julian. Kevin hadn’t yet caught up to me so I beelined to the Julian Pie Company to wait for him. Oh man, was that some pie.

Julian is a designated historical village that’s a bit of a tourist destination for people who live along the coast and want to experience the types of things we take for granted in the midwest – namely, trees, apple pie, and snow in the winter. Kevin showed up a few minutes later and we got a disgusting and impressive amount of pie and pastries, which we quickly and thoroughly destroyed. Interestingly, there was another couple eating on the patio who were from Westmont! Russ made it back up from his ride and found us on the patio to chat a bit more. Afterwards we walked around the town for a bit, mostly because I was drenched in sweat and wanted to dry off before descending back down the mountain. Once sufficiently dry, we hit the road again and enjoyed some easy riding down the mountain to Ramona.

The scenery started changing once again, from a mountainous, green, tree filled landscape to a more rocky one, filled with vineyards. As we bombed down some seriously twisty, steep mountain roads I watched palms start to replace the oak and pine we had been riding through earlier. This felt like Southern California. We reached Ramona, a Real Town, and got a snack at Popeye’s. Quick aside, I hadn’t been to a Popeye’s in maybe 15 years and had been talking about wanting to go on and off for the past year. Today was my Popeye’s day and man, did it live up to the wait. You guys! How are we not talking about Popeye’s? The quality and quantity of chicken you get there for your money is way superior to any fast food place, other than possibly Culver’s. They’ve got Meghan Thee Stallion themed chicken! All Gender Restrooms! The guy gave us large size water cups for free! 10/10 experience. Sufficiently gassed up, we continued on to our Warmshowers host for the evening, Ladene. Her profile on the Warmshowers website warned us about an incredibly steep hill up to her place, but despite that we were still unprepared for the truly inhumane hill awaiting us. After some more twisty, steep, hilly California riding, we arrived at her place. Ladene lives on the tippy top of a steep hill in the mountains a few miles outside of Escondido. Her home is truly an oasis, and I’m glad we were brave enough to climb up to it, but the ripe avocados alongside her drive and amazing views of the San Pasqual valley did little to comfort me as I dragged Vivian up the half-mile, maybe 600 foot climb to her front door. She greeted us warmly and gave us a tour of her house before treating us to fresh persimmons she’d picked that day and a lovely meal of salad, chicken and rice followed by Klondike bars. Soon after, Kevin and I passed out in the guest bedroom.

October 28, 2021

Escondido, CA to Carlsbad, CA (and the Pacific Coast, baby!)

While Ladene’s house was absolutely stunning, I slept horribly that night and woke up feeling exhausted. She served us french toast, milk and more fresh fruit from her yard for breakfast. We hung out for a bit, Ladene suggested we climb out onto her rock, a huge granite boulder that stood perched on the side of a cliff that bounded her driveway, and took some nice photos of Kevin and I.

We barely pedaled down the remaining hills into Escondido and stopped at an amazing donut shop downtown, Peterson’s Donut Corner. This place is open 24-hours, has been family owned for years and serves amazing donuts out of a walk-up window. The entire storefront is glass, so you can see all the donuts as you wait in line – a perfect , but dangerous situation for an indecisive donut lover like myself. Like always, Kevin and I got a disgusting amount of pastries and actually ended up getting one for free when the woman working the counter accidentally gave us an apple fritter instead of a lemon filled. Full of sugar, we continued on. Today was more or less a straight-shot to the coast and most of the days riding was on the Inland Rail Trail, a very chill bike path that follows the train tracks through Escondido and San Marcos. As we rode through vine-covered alleys and palm trees starting lining every street, we both started flying on the realization that we had left our apartment three months ago on bicycles and today we were going to reach the Pacific Ocean. Crazy! The fact that we had spent the last few weeks carefully planning resupply stops and carrying loads of water through the desert made the abundance we were currently riding through seem particularly surreal. Not only were there still plants everywhere, but they were flowering! As we bombed down Palomar Airport Road, cruising up and down big, gentle hills and feeling the air start to get salty I felt the overwhelming excitement of a kid bounding down the stairs on Christmas morning. Just surrendering to the momentum of the moment.

We crested the final hill, going over I-5 and saw the Pacific Ocean. We pulled over to the side of the road, asked a guy who was pulled over there to watch our bikes and bounded down the sandy cliffs to the beach. This was absolutely not the correct way to get to the beach and I lost my helmet and my phone as I clambered down the, in retrospect, very unstable and dangerous cliff. Kevin grabbed the stuff I dropped and followed me down the dubious path. The beach was completely empty on our end, though we could see a big group of surfers down towards the southern end. I emptied my pockets, took off my shirt and walked into the ocean. The prior week had been fairly chilly weather here but today the sun was shining and it was in the low 90s. As I came out of the water and walked back towards Kevin, we were approached by a big, burly guy who had walked up from the southern end of the beach. He approached and asked where we were from, informing us that he could tell it was not here based on the color of our torsos and the fact that we were wearing shoes at the beach. We let him know what we were up to and he was So Amped. He offered us high fives and bear hugs, giving both Kevin and I individually a truly amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet hug. We chatted with Varley for a bit more, then he continued walking along the beach to let us have our moment. Since he was actually a Beach Angel, he returned a beat later and offered to take some pictures of us to commemorate the journey. What a legend. I was too overwhelmed to even have the thought to exchange contact info and before I knew it, he had disappeared again down the beach – adding to the mystery of the moment. I think both Kevin and I were left feeling unsure whether that was a Real Thing That Just Happened or a mirage. Kevin jumped in the water and found a perfect shell to keep. We took some more pictures, soaked up the moment then clambered back up the cliffs to our bikes. We chatted with the guy who watched our bikes, who was also equally amped for us, grinning as he threw us a 🤙 amidst his celebrating of our moment. That’s it, now we’ve definitely, officially arrived in California.

It felt like the entire world had come together for us to have this moment. This was the moment I exulted in the full “we did it” range of emotions, something that would be anticlimactically lacking when we made it into LA proper a couple days from then.

Basking in good vibes and golden light, we went to a 7-11 down the road to get a couple of well-earned beers and headed down to the beach. We felt like reigning champions returning home, playing music and throwing out cheesy grins to every passer-by. We brought our bikes down to the beach, and chilled by the water with our beers and the persimmons Ladene gave us. I went for a real swim, getting out past the breakwater and treading water for maybe 40 minutes. Buoyant in all ways. As the sun started to sink lower in the sky, we washed our sandy feet and headed to Steve and Erin’s place. He was out of town with family and Erin had plans to go to a play that evening but we had just enough time to get a tour and enjoy a truly bomb macaroni & cheese for dinner while hearing all about their lovely family. This lady can cook, she was out here making a roux and everything for us. I had an amount of charcuterie and pasta that I would describe as “disgusting” and a “mistake” and fell asleep soon afterwards. One for the books, folks.

October 29, 2021

Carlsbad, CA to Doheny State Beach

Erin made us a wonderful breakfast and then had to get up to her office to start her workday. We headed out soon afterwards and made it to Camp Pendleton in good time. Camp Pendleton is a huge Marine base that lies in between San Diego and Los Angeles. There are only two ways to ride your bike up the coast, one is by riding on the shoulder of I-5 and the other is getting a Department of Defense pass and going through the base. This is only possible to do day-of if you are coming from the south, a lucky situation for us. In order to get the pass, you must be a U.S. citizen, have a federally compliant ID (REAL ID or passport) and no felony convictions. We actually saw another cyclist, a Veteran no less, get turned away because he didn’t have the REAL ID. Sufficiently spooked, we checked in at the Visitor Center then waited for about 45 minutes as they did background checks, got fingerprinted, had our pictures taken and were issued official BICYCLE ONLY Department of Defense ID cards that would allow us on base. The rules are thus; no stopping, only ride on the designated bicycle through-route and under no circumstance remain on base past 6pm. Kevin had a scheduled therapy appointment just as we finished getting our passes so I continued on ahead with plans to meet up for lunch after the base. I loved this ride. All the officious-ness, weird-ness and novelty of it – plus the scenery is beautiful. I turned up the Wu-Tang and proceeded to make a spectacle of myself as I passed through the various installations and scenery. I will forever regret not stopping to take a picture of a row of tanks parked with bright yellow “STUDENT DRIVER” decals on their back window. Lots of signage instructing drivers to watch out for both tanks and bicycles. I have as many issues with industrialized war as the next person, but there’s also something really comforting about being within such a highly organized, self-sufficient facility. I’m not sure if it’s my years of work in academia and the non-profit world but workplaces like this – that are sort of city-states unto themselves – really feel like home. As you pass through the north gate you’re dumped out onto a bike path/access road that hugs the coast. You’re actually still on base at this point, but past any checkpoints. This is land that’s used for drills and it’s basically pristine. I watched an Osprey helicopter tool around above me as I rode along, completely alone. Eventually you exit the base and follow road that goes along the San Onofre Bluffs. I ran into a couple tandem touring from Washington to Baja and chatted with them for a bit before sending them off with instructions to look out for Kevin.

The views here are stunning, but they really aren’t kidding about the cliffs. I kept pulling over at the various beach access signs to see if I could get down there but the steepness of the descents down to the water deterred me until I got to Trestles. This is a world-famous spot for surfing and thus has some handy switchbacks for the cool surfers to ride their special surfboard-carrying e-bikes down to the water on. Still steep but doable I said fuck it and headed down the sandy path. I did a dunk to cool off but the beach was too rocky for any real swimming so I instead enjoyed an apple on the beach and watched the surfers for a bit. Replenished, I climbed back up and continued along the coast until I got to San Clemente and met Kevin for lunch and some strategizing.

Today we actually had no concrete plans for where we were staying. We weren’t able to set up a Warmshowers and all the campgrounds along the coast were fully booked. We decided to try Doheny State Beach and see if we could find a camphost to inquire about any cancellations or use our pathetic appearance to cadge permission to set up our tent in a corner of the beach for the evening. Knocks on the camphost door were unsuccessful so we found an empty site and decided to hang out until dark and then set up shop if no one had showed up by then. It was a Friday night, and though the site was still empty once it got dark I was concerned about people showing up late after getting off work and didn’t want to deal with the flash of anxiety I felt every time headlights rounded the corner so we moved our gear back to the abandoned-looking, huge group campsite at the end of the campground. We set up our gear in the dark, and – of course – practically as we drove the last stake in the sand the true owner of the site showed up. Thankfully he was part of a small group of people who had booked the site since it was the only one available and they were down to let us stay there for the night. The relief I felt once we were Officially Allowed To Be A Place was delicious. We chatted with our new friend and his friend, Alex, the guy who had booked the site for a bit, then I retreated to the tent to read and sleep while Kevin stayed up a bit longer to draw. As we were chilling, K & I realized that any object outside of the tent fly was very quickly becoming Actually Wet since we were so close to the ocean. This was new camping territory for us, so we made sure to seal up all our panniers, store anything fragile away and crossed our fingers that we didn’t wake up wet in the morning.

October 30, 2021

Doheny State Beach to Long Beach, CA

We woke up pretty early and were relieved to find our possessions both intact and dry. We quickly packed up, said our goodbyes to Alex, since the rest of the gang was still sleeping off the previous night’s festivities, and hit the road. A diner had been located nearby and K & I enjoyed a nice, leisurely breakfast together before getting on the Pacific Coast Highway. The PCH was built in the 1930’s, follows 600 miles of the California coastline and is one of the most famous and scenic drives in the world. It’s an equally famous bike ride, K & I had hoped to ride it a few years ago but a large portion of it was closed due to a deforestation related mudslide so we did our Pacific Northwest tour instead. I loved this ride. It’s fairly hilly but the grades are gentle, and you feel like I would imagine surfers do – just floating up and down these big, gentle curves all day. The route feels really organic, there’s big wide shoulders in between towns and then it narrows down as it goes through the cute, little downtown areas, then opens back up again.

The beach towns all have their own unique energy. It was interesting to ride through these places that I had only heard about on reality TV shows – like Laguna Beach, Housewives of Beverly Hills…etc. These places are truly stunning and I feel at home with the beach-y vibe – the day was a parade of men changing into bodysuits on the side of the road, old hot rods passing by and van lifers committed to the Beach Lyfe parked on the side roads- but it was also apparent that we were passing through areas of extreme wealth. We stopped at the CVS in Laguna Beach to see if I could get my booster and there was more than one Lamborghini in the parking lot and too many Porsches to count. The traffic on PCH was getting to Kevin a bit, he kept making jokes about getting creamed into the pavement by a Kardashian. To me, the day felt like that image from a movie of a person in a convertible, cruising down the highway on a sunny day, their hand in the slipstream making waves as they go. We took a break in Huntington Beach to get coffee and have a snack. The vibes there weren’t great so we made a call to continue on to Seal Beach to relax for a couple hours before going to our Warmshowers. A box full of pastries was obtained, we had a lovely conversation with a couple on beach cruisers about our tour and were released with a genuine, good-hearted, “hang loose brah” then took some phone calls on the beach. Seal Beach is right next to Long Beach and the view of all the container ships waiting in the harbor was a bit surreal. This is the thing you’re hearing about on the news, apparently there aren’t enough longshoremen to keep up with the volume, resulting in huge, huge backups that are causing nationwide supply shortages.

Phone calls done, we made our turn inland and cruised down a chill path that followed a drainage canal all the way into Long Beach proper. We stopped to explore the canal and another cyclist told us how he saw two guys catch a 100lb sea turtle in the canal the day prior. Wild. We made it to Ken & Kenny’s just before dinnertime and enjoyed a very nice evening with the two of them. Kenny had prepared a wonderful dinner for us, and we got to meet Meepers – their pet bird that just flies around the house and sits on your shoulder like you’re in Snow White or something. Ken was full of stories, and had served on the Warmshowers board for a few years. It was fascinating to hear more about the history and political background of the site that has had such a huge impact on our trip thus far.

October 31, 2021

Long Beach, CA to Los Angeles, CA

We woke up and enjoyed coffee with Ken & Kenny. As a somewhat official Warmshowers ambassador, Ken has all his guests pose with Warmshowers paraphernalia and keeps the photos in a binder, which was super interesting to go through. Coffee finished, it was time for our photoshoot – a thing I typically truly hate participating in but Ken was a great photographer, making the process as painless as possible and the pictures turned out really nice. We said our farewells, a bittersweet affair that’s becoming increasingly familiar, and hit the road. While we had been the recipients of enough goodwill and generosity to drown in since crossing over the mountains into “populated Southern California,” K & I were both feeling a bit overwhelmed. I’m not sure if it was the fact that we’d spent the previous 6ish weeks traveling through the actual desert, or if we were just tired from the road but the abundance of Things & People in Southern California was wearing us down. Edward Abbey, an author people keep recommending to us as we were riding through the Great Basin Desert, speaks beautifully on comforting spareness of the desert in his book Desert Solitaire:

Strolling on, it seems to me that the strangeness and wonder of existence are emphasized here, in the desert, by the comparative sparsity of the flora and fauna: life not crowded upon life as in other places but scattered abroad in spareness and simplicity, with a generous gift of space for each herb and bush and tree, each stem of grass, so that the living organism stands out bold and brave and vivid against the lifeless sand and barren rock. The extreme clarity of the desert light is equaled by the extreme individuation of desert life-forms. Love flowers best in openness and freedom.

We were now in the complete opposite environment, a hyper abundance of life – both human and otherwise. We found a place to enjoy a breakfast to ourselves and chilled for a minute before heading to Devon’s. We only had about 30ish miles to Devon’s front door, but neither of us were really feeling it that day. It was a sort of dreary, overcast morning and we spent the first couple hours of riding following the Los Angeles River canal trail. Kevin had the cute idea to try to stop at a Party City to see if we could get Halloween costumes in order to ride into town dressed appropriately for the holiday. We had an exhaustion induced, wrong turn precipitated tiff, but made up and went to Party City. Kevin found a full-face Frankenstein mask to wear, but I didn’t see anything I liked. I had gotten a Halloween manicure in Vegas and dyed my hair lime green in honor of the holiday the week prior so felt like that combined with Vivian’s pumpkin decoration was festive enough. Kevin bravely rode into town with a mask that absolutely decreased his ability to see, despite his claims to the contrary and we soon encountered the first real city-riding we’d done in months.

Los Angeles is sort of famously terrible for bicycling and the route into town went through some strange, industrial areas but nothing we couldn’t handle. Times like these I’m so grateful for my years of experience riding in the city because I’m confident enough to take up space on roads that I would absolutely be intimidated by otherwise. I’m a firm believer that a huge part of riding safely is taking up space and making sure you’re visible. We went through downtown and Skid Row and I started vibing again. Something about the riding in cities, weaving through traffic, having your awareness be hyper-present in order to process all the spatial information coming at you to be safe, is really really enjoyable and calming to me and this was the type of riding we hadn’t done in a long time. Skid Row and just general homeless-ness in Los Angeles is No Joke and truly a different beast from the situation back home. We continued through downtown and stopped for some cheap sushi in Koreatown, the neighborhood nearest to Devon’s place, to avoid showing up at her door starving. I stopped at the Salvadoran Panaderia at the end of her block and got some treats to show up with. Adequately sated, blood sugar stable, we continued on to Devon’s and she bounded out the door to meet us. We had Made It.