Wear some flowers in your hair.

I felt so rested and my soul was complete. I had just finished my visit in Portland and finished the ride yesterday feeling that this stretch of riding was going to be the most memorable. I took a few extra minutes opening my eyes. I let my sense of hearing and smell paint the picture before I saw it. The air was fresh and evergreens balanced out the tart sea salt being kicked up by the pounding surf not but several hundred yards away. I was far enough in the tree line where my tent walls rested motionless away from the ocean breeze. The sharp thick smoke from the neighboring infant, crackling fire made it's way through the mesh screen of my enclosure. After soaking in as much scents and sounds I finally mustered up the will to open my eyes. By this time I had taught myself how to sleep on my back laying motionless throughout the night. Prior to this trip I could only rest on my side with my head resting in my arm. The hard surfaces that I had been setting the tent up on had made this difficult and my arm would get numb and I would need to switch arms every 30-45 minutes. From my back I was in the front row seat to what was happening directly above me through the mesh screen. The massive trunks of the Douglas Firs shot straight up. Branchless for the first half or so they stood watch over all the campsites, grounded and unaffected by the ocean breeze. The branches finally came and put an end to the meaty stock. There was a perfect proportion of visible sky and the branches and needles that were obstructing the dawns light from fully penetrating to the surface below. I could hear the neighbors coffee kettle and cups clinking and clanking as they set up the stove to heat the water. "Coffee would be perfect right about now!" I thought to myself. I remembered that I had not burned through the wood I had purchased and figured I would offered to extend the life of their flame for a fresh cup of NW Java, after I get up and out of the tent of course. The sound of the tents zipper confirmed my waking up starting the day. A visit to the bathroom for the usually morning routine and a warm shower. By this time the coffee had brewed and I was reminded of not letting my firewood to go to waste. A Golden Retriever, mother, father, and daughter had set up camp in the neighboring campsite.

They lit up with the idea of more firewood and conversation. It is amazing to meet so many random people and stop to listen. Everyone has a story, everyone is coming from somewhere and on there way to a destination. Everyone’s journey is another perspective and it’s a worthwhile exercise to teach yourself to see it through the eyes of others. I was hoping to get a cup of coffee and instead I got two, that and fresh layer of Golden Retriever hair on all my cloths. The dog was a leaner, from the term coined in “Friends” when Joey would lean and say the “how you doing?” line. It would come up to you nudging your hand above its head and spinning around being careful not to break the contact with it as my fingers would continue down its back. It would pull up next to my leg and lean on it making sure it was a comfortable distance as to make it as convenient as possible for me to continue petting her.

I packed up the gear and went out to the beach to see what I had been hearing since last night. A stream flowed into the surf and rocks scattered at its mouth. The shallow flow of water over the rocks disturbed the otherwise smooth sand downstream from where the stones had lodged themselves. I watched the surrounding people enjoying the beach and let it be my calm before the storm readying my mind for the goal I had set for myself today. I wanted to make it to LA and it was a hefty 740 miles away. I was excited though, I knew the landscape would keep my mind alert and sharp. No time to waste it was off to the races.

The ride started with the great gentle giants of the west coast, the Red Woods. Several sections of park were ahead where I could witness these massive tress. Each time I would pull into a section of forest it would get a shade darker and cooler. The massive trees seemed to absorb everything around them to maintain their survival leaving a void where cooler temperatures and darkness snuck in. Amazingly the trees would sprout from the ground not disturbing the ground around itself. The roots stayed hidden deep beneath the surface and only the straight solid stalk of the tree pierced the surface stretching towards the fog that hid its branchy cap. Some sections of the Redwoods would make it right to the coast on the sides of steep cliffs.

The closer I would get to the coast the thicker the fog would be. I would look over the guardrail hoping to see the ocean below but the fog would consume the cliff sides before they could expose the crashing waves. The road would pull away from the coast and the sun would shine and warm the surroundings up an extra 10-15 degrees. Back towards the coast and the cold would come back with a vengeance. Before pulling into San Francisco I passed through thousands of acres of vineyards. The road lay in a  valley and the fields lay flat within its parameters. Beyond the valley the green fields would fallow the contours of the hills that imprisoned the narrow valley. Here and there a Italian Style Casa would find its place among the fields usually with a long straight roadway leading to it lined with tall evergreen arborvitae.

The fields gave way to the hills once more and the fog rolled in as I pulled into San Francisco. A friend of mine had a busy day working so I decided to pass through in a hurry and continue on to LA. I had to make just one stop, the Golden Gate Bridge. As I pulled up the viewpoint there was a group of bikers there that also wanted the epic view of the bridge in their photos. We got to talking and they were here from Croatia and rented Harleys in Orlando Florida and rode here to San Francisco as their final destination. They had finished taking their photos and waited for me to finish mine. The bridge leaped off the shore, on the end that I was at, and before it could even get over the water the fog would swallow it whole. There was no escaping it and all I got in the pictures was the base of the north side of the bridge. I joined up with the Croatian group and guided them through the city. We waived our goodbyes and I continued on through the city leaving just in time for the rush hour traffic to back up behind me.

The Pulling away from the coast I was back in farm country where the sun’s rays were on full blast. The straight roads made for quick progress down the map closer to LA. As I neared the coast again the fog picked up and so did the gusts of wind. These gusts where strongest to-date. I gripped my handle bars with everything I had and tensed up as each gust would nearly blow me off the road. The passing cars would try to pass by quickly not wanted to be next to me when a gust would come along and shift my direction of travel into theirs. To my right was a dark Pacific ocean not visible to me but rather inferred by the lights of the large ships traveling in a long line just off the coast. At first I thought it had been land but in the lights I could make out shipping containers. The highway pulled me inland as the city of LA reared its head. I made it to my destination quickly as the traffic had been going 15-20 miles above the speed limit and I dared not to go slower than the flow around me. My destination was a high school friend who had been making a name for himself in the film industry in Hollywood. He and 2 other partners had created Culprit Creative and worked their asses off and recently been featured on Forbes 30 under 30. Siri guided me to their home and headquarters in the heart of Hollywood off of Sunset BLVD. The 740 miles did not come easy but surprisingly I did not find myself tired, but regardless I called it a night after an introduction to all the crew that lived and those that were visiting the house.