We seem to be on a roll and had another great night’s sleep even though the motel was close to a busy road. That said, we weren’t woken by the alarm at 6:30am, but by a plane taking off and flying directly over the motel just before that.
With the motel reception area being the size of a shoebox and also doubling up as the breakfast room we did not have high expectations for this morning’s feast. Upon entering the aforementioned shoebox we were amazed to see what a little creativity can deliver. While it wasn’t the best spread there was fresh muffins, cereal, hot drinks and fruit juice. Where other motels had a seating area to eat your breakfast, this motel had a pile of trays to take your breakfast back to your room. It also had a very friendly owner from Bangalore with a big smile, which is always a welcome start to the day.
With our bikes packed up, we headed back along the road we came in on last night. The first section of the day followed a cycle lane in the middle of the carriageway, separated from the traffic passing on both sides. This would have been great if it wasn’t for the challenge to get across into the middle of three lanes going in each direction, only to find you had to get back again when the lane abruptly ended 300 metres down the road.
Less than a mile further down the road at the junction with Highway 1, we were directed onto another more traditional cycle lane. With the highway to our right and Fort Ord Dunes State Park at the other side of a chainlink fence to our left.
There was another cycle track running through the park, which looked a more pleasant ride through the dunes, but as we didn’t know if it ultimately would go where we were going we stuck to our plan. Bearing in mind the cycle track in the park wasn’t visible from our vantage point much of the time it was, therefore, a surprise to see Dillion, the chap we met at Carmel Highlands yesterday, cycling along in the other direction. If either of us had reached that point one minute later or one minute earlier we would have missed each other. The other coincidence is that we were actually talking about Dillion, or rather his pedal traps, at the very time we spotted him. It can be an odd world sometimes.
Dillion had stayed with family in the Monterey Marina area last night and was having a day off cycling today… well, apart from cycling to Trader Joe’s to buy provisions for the next few days of his journey south. We chatted a for a while about the route and his pedal traps, before saying our goodbyes for the last time and headed off in opposite directions and opposite sides of the chainlink fence.
We remained on the cycle path for another few miles before it ended, forcing us back onto the highway for a few more miles before coming to a sign stating our presence was no longer welcome.
After cycling along a smooth cycle track and an equally smooth highway hard shoulder, the roads that we were now forced to use were a shock. We were now in farm country, or more specifically artichoke and strawberry country.
The roads were in quite a bad state of repair, with the hard shoulder, when there was one, littered with rocks, soil from the fields and discarded vegetation. The road network that we now were to follow until we reached Aptos 11 miles later. Without much to see apart from field after field of artichokes, strawberries or plastic sheeting prepared ready for the next batch of artichokes and strawberries to be planted we quickly became quite bored, so when advertisement boards along the side of the road invited us to buy five avocados for $1 or ten kiwi fruits for $1 we couldn’t resist.
Pulling over to the fruit stalls was a challenge due to the amount of traffic speeding along in both directions, so when we read three avocadoes for $5 and five kiwi fruits for $1 we were less than impressed. That said, $1 for five kiwi fruits still seems good value, so bought them anyway. Getting back to the other side of the road took a while but soon we were heading in the direction of Santa Cruz once again.
Just as we approached Aptos an inviting looking beach park appeared to our left. As it was a little after lunchtime and our breakfast calories had long since been burned, we decided to pull in for a break.
We were also needing to figure out where we were going to sleep as our plan to stay with an old friend had been scuppered due to us being a day earlier than planned. It was, therefore, a very welcome sight to see a message from Sally that her plans had changed and she was now free for two scruffy and smelly cyclists to turn up at her front door.
Sally wasn’t around until after 4:15pm, so as we were less than two hours away we chilled out a little more, enjoying the sight of the crashing waves on the beach while a bunch of guys attempted to stand up on planks of wood and make forward progress before being wiped out by the next wave.
We eventually prised ourselves away from the beach and headed to Sally’s home via Safeways to buy a few essentials for the next few days. With bags of crisps procured and packed away, we were just about to leave when a chap with a cycling t-shirt came over to ask what we were up to. Elliot was clearly a keen cyclist, touring up and down the west coast, although not so much as his son that owns a bike shop.
By the time we had finished chatting to Elliott, we would be cycling in the dark to get to Sally’s home if we didn’t get a move on. The remaining few miles were easier to cycle than navigating, but we eventually pulled up at 4:16pm and were greeted by an old friend that I had not seen in 13 years.
We chatted for a while around her big garden table before the sun went down and it started to get decidedly chilly. While I put up the tent in the back yard Deborah headed in for a shower, then I had a shower while Deborah did something, which while unclear, was no doubt very important.
We had a lovely evening with Sally and her friend Mick, eating veggie sushi while reminiscing about old times, catching up on the past 13 years and talking about the future, although it seems cycling and sleeping in tents is not something on Princess Sally’s bucket list and Mick is definitely going to stick with the home comforts of his camper van. Oh well, at least I tried to convert them!