How Three Tech Dudes Biked 500 Miles from SF to LA (Part 2)
Santa Cruz, California
When Raymond called me, we were right here:
We were in the bum effin middle of nowhere. No ubers. No taxis. This is what the road looked like:
I offered to carry a portion of his luggage but he didn’t want to do that to us. He planned to call and uber and taxi to meet us in Santa Cruz.
My skills at persuasion were good. But the firmness of his statement meant his decision was made. At that point, the pain was so unbearable, he wanted to cry.
After hopping off the phone, he took a swig of water, unloaded his backpack and sat on the curb. He opened up the uber app, a blank green canvas map engulfed his phone. He centered his location and pressed enter, attempting to get the nearest driver. Uber & Lyft service unavailable. Shit.
Rather than give up, his bulldozer mind cycled through ideas on how he could get to Santa Cruz. We had just passed by the town of Pescadero, which had an arts festival going on. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a person in town to give him a lift to Santa Cruz.
He exhales and takes a swig of water allowing his body to recuperate. He throws his backpack back on his back, only to feel a sharp twinge on his lower back. He tries to pedal but the sharp pain stabs his lower back. He walked to the town of Pescadero.
Pescadero was a small, quiant town with no large buildings. He finds a gas station, purchases a bottle of water. He googles for a car service. None available. Since Pescadero had an arts festival that day, maybe he could ask a stranger to give him a lift. He talks to three tourists only to find that they were all going towards San Francisco.
As Raymond ticked off each idea, he was running out of options. He had phone last option: phone a friend. Dun dun dun *Insert who wants to be a millionaire music*
He facetimes one of his best friends, Ryan. In the background, he notices that Ryan isn’t home. He’s outside. Where was he? Ryan had planned to take his girlfriend skydiving that day. Unfortunately, when he got to the skydiving location, the weather conditions weren’t suited for skydiving. But where was this skydiving location?
Santa Cruz.
In a miraculous turn of luck, Ryan, Raymond’s last option, had been in the area. If the weather conditions were good, he wouldn’t have been free. Ryan found Raymond in Pescadero and took him to Santa Cruz.
Upon arrival, he called every bike shop in town asking Do you guys carry paneers?
We do.
Mission saved.
Brian and I cruised 30 miles into Santa Cruz, arriving at 5pm. Santa The day totaled to 60 miles, 3000 feet of elevation. We re-convened with Raymond at the hostel and spent the rest of the day devouring thai food and exploring the boardwalk.
Santa Cruz is Northern California’s premiere surftown. A town of 90,000 people, home of UC Santa Cruz, the city is a blend of bushy forests & soothing beaches. Since Santa Cruz is a surf town, we thought we should make the most of our visit by going surfing. Internet surfing. We surfed mindless youtube videos, refreshed instagram and vegetated the rest of the night. Fun stuff.
Our next ride was 45 miles to Marina, CA. A random city that sat adjacent to Monterey:
We left at around 11am and enjoyed an easy, flat ride towards Marina. We pedaled through flat farmlands, putrid smelling horse poop, as the sun settled past the horizon. The crisp sounds of music tapped my eardrum, with each note soothing my mind into the flow of the ride.
Poke.
A spec of pain poked the front of my left knee, barely noticeable. I treated this poke like an annoying baby.
Ignore.
Soon, the spec of pain evolved into an annoying little brother, banging on the door of my mind, begging to come in.
Ignore.
At some point I had to open the door. Not right now though.
Ignore.
I had no clue what it was. It kinda hurt, but we still had about 350 miles left, with our hardest day in two days. One thing I learned from Raymond’s fiasco was that small discomforts multiply out. Raymond wearing a 30lb bag for 20 miles is do-able. Multiplying that across 500 miles is nearly impossible. The pain in my knee was no different.
When we biked, Brian wasn’t concerned with speed, he was concerned with pedaling correctly. Combine this with hybrid wheels, he’d often be pedaling slower in the back. Through his life, he’s had multiple injuries: breaking his foot, tearing his shoulder, injuring his back. In life, it’s the painful experiences that shape our behavior. And these experiences made Brian a bit neurotic about an injury during this ride.
In preparation for this ride, Raymond & I had an attitude of youth invincibility. Brian did the opposite. He researched, trained and took the most precaution, which meant he was the most prepared.
When I brought up my knee pain, Brian immediately knew the answer: your bike seat might be too low. Might be good to see if you can get a bike fit.
A bike fit requires a bike fitter to measure the dimension of your body, pedal stroke and hand positions. Then, he/she will re-adjust the saddle height, position to your body size. If the seat is too low, you’d be putting too much pressure on the front of your knee:
You can see in this photo, how the man’s knee is nearly in front of his toe(black line). Raising the seat would push the knee back, thus, putting less pressure on the knee(red line).
Although the pain was manageable, I began to panic. I had no idea what a small knee pain, multiplied over 300 miles would become. Would I be completely incapacitated in 100 miles? 200 miles?
We stopped by REI where I got my bike seat adjusted + bought a patellar tendon strap. However, the REI crew didn’t have proper bike fit measurement equipment which meant my bike seat was still too low after they adjusted it. This would come back to bite me.
The patellar tendon strap absorbed some of the pressure that I put on my tendon. My knee hurt, but the pain was bearable. If the pain didn’t get worse, I think I could keep going. I self-diagnosed myself with patellar tendonitis.
On we went. The 71 mile monster, lurking ahead of us.
Big Sur
The trek into Big Sur was an easier 45 mile ride. Through Big Sur was the tough one:
The roads in Big Sur slivered like a snake on alongside the jagged cliffs. Ocean waves crumbled against the coastline while a cool breeze rustled through the luscious green trees. The bike shoulder was only 1-2 feet so cars would vroom by awfully close:
Because the roads winded, this limited the speed of cars. We’d pedal up hills, cruise down, pedal up again, cruise down. At one stoplight, I pull up next to two bikers. They were dressed in a blue and red bike jersey. And both had steel-carved calves. Damn. And they also looked to be retired and in their 70’s. Damn.
As the light flicks green, one of the men pedal right beside me:
Old Dude: How’s it going? Where are ya guys headed?
Me: We’re headed from SF to LA. You?
Old Dude: We’re headed from Santa Cruz to Orange County.
We chat for a few seconds and he pedals past me. After a few minutes, he’s pedaled into the distance. I can’t see him. This guy is probably three times my age but he flew right past me as if I was the 70 year old. It’s always refreshing to meet people who haven’t allowed age to suppress their lust for adventure. I’d like to be that old dude when I’m 70.
We arrived at Big Sur Lodge and rested up for the toughest ride of this trip: 71 miles, 5511 feet of elevation. We left Big Sur lodge at 9am and planned to end in the small town of Cambria.
About 40 miles in, the three of us concluded that Big Sur wasn’t as hard as we thought. That is, until we hit “The Climb.”
The Climb, was a 1000 foot, straight uphill climb. When cycling up a hill, we usually shift to a lower gear.
Good cycling technique means maintain consistent pedaling cadence. To maintain cadence, you shift your gears higher with incline, lower when it’s flat. Climbing becomes exponentially harder when you already hit your lowest gear but cannot maintain cadence. The only thing you can do is generate more power with your legs to push through the resistance.
I could feel a thick wad of moisture underneath the straps of my backpack. My backpack started to stink of sweat. I don’t remember if my left knee hurt. My focus was on the burn in my thighs and conquering this 71 mile beast.
The beauty behind endurance sports like cycling, running, swimming is the repetitive motion. Unlike football, basketball, you are repeating the same exact physical motion, in this case, for hours. Some might see this as boring. But boredom is the best test for the equanimity of your mind. Nothing in life is boring. When we feel bored, it’s our failure to squeeze the interesting juices from the amazing world around us. Endurance sports train this skill.
I clicked my gears lower until I hit my lowest gear. I couldn’t click any lower, which meant I needed to exert more force through my legs. As rivers of sweat drifted down my forehead, the beautiful views of Big Sur faded in the background. I was alone in the crevices of my mind.
Why was I doing this? Why did I feel this urge to bike 500 miles? Was I doing this to impress girls? What did I have to prove to others? Was I running away from something?
A few years ago, I went on a 10-day vipassana meditation retreat. The retreat required us to meditate for 10 hours per day with a break every hour, no talking, no writing, no cell phone. There was one moment on the retreat where I had been meditating for one hour straight and I felt like I was sitting on burning stove. Usually, we would have a 5 minute break every hour of meditation. This time, I challenged myself to meditate through the break and go for two hours.
There was an odd moment where the pain became so unbearable, I started giggling like a little school girl. It was as if I was a 3rd person, in my own story, watching the pain sit in my legs. Yes! That was it. I completely detached from the pain in my legs. What Buddha meant with enlightenment is suffering is that any sort of pain, physical, emotional is the path to enlightenment. Peace comes from the detachment and overcoming of pain.
A woman I dated a few months ago went through a soul-crushing breakup, which triggered her to start reading, investing in her passion for cooking and start exercising. Colin O’Brady when traveling in Thailand suffered 3rd degree burns from a fire accident. This accident triggered him to win a triathlon, ultimately spurring an amazing career as an athlete. He became the fastest man to cross Antarctica solo, unassisted. It was ultimately the pain of her mother that led Cheryl Strayed to go on the 1,100 mile hike through the Pacific Coast Trail. This led to the book & movie: Wild.
And that’s why I was doing this ride. I knew that pushing through the pain, struggle would sculpt the best version of myself.
Little did I know, the worst pain of this trip had yet to come.
END OF PART 2
Click here for the final part!