Day Mileage: 66
I'm pretty sure I understated just how good last night's campground was. It was so good that it made me want to live in Santa Barbara, if only so that I could bike there and camp cheaply whenever I wanted. Guys... it was incredible. Scenery-wise, I put it on par with Pfieffer Big Sur. Sure, Refugio is more crowded, but you honestly wouldn't care.
Back in San Simeon, I ran into these younger guys headed from the Bay Area to Santa Barbara. I actually ran into them again at Refugio --a mere 20 miles from their final destination. They were really cool, so it was cool to be able to see them off. Best of luck, guys.
As I was eating breakfast, I was looking down at my (now awesome) tan line on my leg when I realized that, even after layering on the sunblock for days-on-end, I had managed to sun-bleach my leg hair. I never occurred to me that you could even do that.
After that shocking revelation, a group I had sort of linked up with decided we should get lunch in Santa Barbara. If I haven't mentioned them before, they're four different people riding at about my pace -- a couple of nice ladies from Michigan riding from Vancouver to Mexico, and two guys from LA headed from the Bay Area to LA. We'd wound up at the same camp sites for several nights in a row, so we exchanged numbers a few days ago and kept each other posted of our general whereabouts.
We rode mostly as a group down the 101, through Goleta, and eventually into SB-proper.
I've got a good friend that went to college in Santa Barbara. If given the opportunity, he'd talk your ear off about how much he liked it there. Somehow, after all that lip-service, he managed to sell it short. Guys, this place is rad.
The place we went to was a nondescript "beer" bar called Brew Haus (get it?) I ordered a belgian ale and a steak sandwich. A word in that order that I'm going to repeat is *sandwich* because when I got my plate, I didn't realize that word had an entirely different meaning in Santa Barbara Brew Haus...es.
You see that tiny sliver of bread under the gigantic steak? That's what classifies this meal as a sandwich. It's sort of like how riverboat casinos in the midwest are technically "boats" because they're built up inside these tiny tiny moats that go around them. Of course I didn't complain, because I sort of needed the protein after yesterday's climb-fest. The horrified look on Joe's face (green shirt, below) as I inhaled that steak will stick with me forever.
Once that meal went down, one our teammates, Chuck, (7-Eleven) decided that he wanted to do an 80 mile day to get back to LA a day sooner. Later Chuck.
We were soon on our way to Ventura. It was mostly easy, if not kind of boring for a while. Lots of windy town bike lanes keeping us off the 101 freeway. After a few miles, the route put us on the shoulder of the *northbound* 101, but behind a protective barrier. It's a pretty ride, but not entirely noteworthy.
When I landed in Ventura, I noticed I had an awesome chain-tattoo:
...and for my RRC friends: (taken in Ventura)
Shit was getting gloomy as I rolled toward McGrath state beach. It got sort of chilly, but nothing intolerable. The campsite is a little austere compared last night, which bummed me out, but after a shower, I realized I didn't care as much.
I'm going to Venice, tomorrow. A friend of mine is going to pick me up, and I'll meet up with a few friends for dinner. I may even take a rest day since I've never actually ridden 530-540 miles in nine days, before. I don't feel particularly exhausted, outside of muscle fatigue and some nasty hand numbness. I could probably use the rest, anyway.
Gnarly trip, Sean. Sounds like a true blast. We'll be happy to have you over this weekend and to assist in your wise bypass of the megalopolis. ;-)
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