Sunday, September 9, 2012

Bosnians, Broken Computers, and Bob

Still here in Sausalito, taking a break day with my host, whom I can't thank enough (did I mention... thanks?). I took a walk along the ocean, which was most excellent (though my legs, I think, wanted the whole day off), and now I'm back in the house and mostly caught up with everything. Time to tell you all about... the Bosnians.

By my math I've inadvertently missed a day somewhere, but let's not worry about that. All I remember is that the day after I stayed at a campsite for $6, I passed some cycle tourists.

It looked about like this on that day. Okay, exactly like this.


Yes. I passed them. They waved. Nothing special. In fact, that happened multiple times a day.

Shortly afterwards... they passed me. And the trend continued throughout the day. They seemed to be going about the same pace as me, and they were awfully quiet. They never stopped to say hi -- they hardly did the head nod. In retrospect, this was probably mostly my fault, as after the day of almost-quitting and then the day of much-rain I probably didn't look too happy. In any case, it was pretty standard riding that day. I did pass the sea lion caves, which are a thing apparently, but didn't stop due to the crowd. After all, I had already seen sea lions.

(now typing on 9/9 from a host in Carson City, NV)

In any case, towards the end of the day I had pulled over to pick some blackberries when these guys pulled up behind me looking for some chain lube. We got to talking, and ended up riding together for a bit. After establishing that I was riding alone and quite lonely, I was invited over for dinner! Well, as much as you can invite someone over when you are an "opportunist." *ahem*

"The Bosnians:" Sandro on the left, and Seal ("say-all") on the right.


So Sandro and I talked for the rest of the day about everything from our trips to politics in Bosnia to what we ate on tour to -- well, you get it. Occasionally the two would banter in Bosnian. Seal spoke English, apparently, but did not speak it much. Mostly he would banter with Sandro and Sandro would translate for me. In any case, we talked and rode for the next three hours or so, and then Seal found us a place to sleep (he's "the master," apparently).

Sand beach, too!


Up till then I had had mostly pasta for dinner, and had felt my energy reserves slowly depleting. Sandro and Seal introducted me to the concept of salts, which (in short) we need to process energy. So since that night, I've been having soup almost every night. But that night, we had a four course meal: Soup, pasta, rice, then dessert ("Candies are essential," Sandro would later say, in a speech about blood sugar). It was... well, delicious. We bantered the night away talking about girls and jobs and everything in between.

The next morning, I was a bit slow to get going (apparently most cyclists don't eat breakfast). I was afraid I had lost my new friends, but with my new salts, I caught up to them within the hour! We passed through a city called Coos Bay, and met a few other cyclists -- a father and son (?) who were biking the world, for instance. They had just gotten started in Canada and were planning to spend four years on their bikes. Seal left his address in Bosnia, and these guys said, "Thanks! We'll call you in two years!" It was pretty great.

With my new education in bicycle fooding, I bought some bread and dried soup (canned soup has water weight).

The next days were great conversation and storytelling and much bantering in Bosnian. Every now and then they would take off and I would worry I had lost my new friends. I knew they wouldn't be with me for long, and part of the point of this trip was to be independent, but I didn't think I'd realized until then how much having company is comforting and, well... there really aren't words for what a friend can do when you've undertaken such a great task. *ahem* In any case. Lo and behold, before long I would find them on the side of the road picking blackberries.

"Did you hear something?"



Apparently they don't have those in Bosnia -- as I mentioned previously, they are practically a weed in Washington and Oregon. So sometimes I caught up to them as they stuffed themselves with berries, or sometimes I was with them when Seal would throw his bike to the ground and the two would run to the side of the road for a feast. Occasionally I would hear Sandro comment, "THIS! -- THIS is El Dorado!"

Later that night we met a cycle tourist who was actually on tour:

So yea, that's a guitar in that trailer. Oh, and my girlfriend is also my accompanist.


His name is Paul Doffing and if you're in the mood for some new music, Google him! Any artist who tours -- er, cycle tours -- er, tours with a bike... whatever, you get it.

That day we had ridden 80 or 90 miles, so we were absolutely exhausted. Just as we were about to surrender to the $6 fee of the state park, Seal jumped off his bike and started climbing a cliff face on the side of the road. After some bantering in Bosnian and asking my opinion and "was I sure," we spent the next 20 minutes hauling our bikes and panniers up a 15 foot cliff face. The view was worth it.

So worth it.


(In light of catching up, I'm skipping over a few details here, but the essential ones won't be missed)

The next morning, we hit biker central.

Oh... did you call in advance? We sure did.


(above is just a sampling of the cyclists we saw that day)

When we stopped, it was just us. We stayed about 40 minutes for lunch, and saw the guys going around the world, the cycle-touring musician, two guys from England, and a couple from Canada. It was pretty cool.

Then, just as my legs were getting warmed up again (by the way, if you stop for even two minutes, it is super hard to get going again. It hurts. Your body wants to heal itself. So... you don't stop unless you have a good reason), the Bosnians decided to go swimming. After all, they don't pay for lodging -- they rely on rivers and lakes and whatnot. Here is Sandro jumping off a cliff.

"Do you think I'll live?"


Apparently in Bosnia they have a diving competition every year off of this bridge that's more than 200 years old. It's 85 feet high, and they dive. Yes -- head first.

After some more riding, we hit our last city in Oregon -- Brookings, OR. We stopped for food and a recharge (there's a bit more here you can ask me about in person, but again, time). I was ready to reach my third state... I was so excited, I started singing. Oh yes. There was much singing. And then... there was California.

Completely metaphoric. Promise.


I did get the ritual "Hello from Tacoma" photo, but you'll have to find me on Facebook for that one. Variety is the spice of life!

We spent the night in an abandoned hay field about 50 meters from the ocean. Oh, and we had chicken. Seal bought a chicken in Brookings. An entire chicken.

- - -

The next day was foggy. And then we met Janna.

This is Janna, by the way. Not just some random photo I found on the internet.

Well, now it's a random photo on the internet.


Janna is from Wisconsin. She is FAST. We did 84 that day and it was her shortest day. So basically, Janna's a badass.

We went through the redwood forests... (more photos on facebook)... and then we met Bob! Well, Bob caught up to us. After much hassle, we managed to meet for dinner. Dinner with Bob, the Bosnians, and Janna. Oh, it was a good night.

The next day was a day of goodbyes. I had already said goodbye to Bob. Janna left early that morning, not to be held up by us slow folk. That day, Sandro, Seal and I made it to Arcata, where I was to meet my cycling partner for the rest of the trip, Ken. I stopped at a bike store to buy a waterproof jacket, as my current "waterproof jacket" only lasted about ten minutes. After much flailing and asking of directions, we finally found an internet cafe, where I pulled out my laptop to update my blog and found it... WET.

I didn't turn it on. I did say goodbye to it.

And then I said goodbye to the Bosnians.

Goodbye, Bosnians.


It was a sad day. But then...

-- tune in next time --

Okay, so I'm updated to day 12 now, and on day 21... catching up... phew.

Goodbye from Carson City!

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