Open Writing

After a week of riding the railroad and sightseeing in two major cities I was raring to get pedalling down the Pacific coast but not before I had had the chance to experience a ride across 'The Bridge'.

We soon picked up the coast road which hugs the Pacific Ocean for several hundred kilometres. We had barely 'warmed up' before we came up to a barrier; the road was closed. Some sections of road and some bridges are damaged almost every year making the road impassable for several weeks in the Spring whilst repairs are carried out in readiness for the tourist season. Residents living in the affected areas have to use forest tracks to reach San Francisco each day. They are required to be off 'site' by eight in the morning and cannot return until five in the afternoon. This allows repairs and reconstruction work to be carried out unhindered.

As five o'clock approached a queue of vehicles built up at the barrier, many of them pickup trucks. Cyclists were the only non-residents permitted through the barrier but first we needed to get through the fifty kilometres of forest tracks before riding could be contemplated. It did not take long to get the offer of a lift. Loading our bikes in the pickup Mary climbed into the passenger seat next to the driver whilst I enjoyed an exhilarating ride grimly hanging on to the bar at the back as we bounced along on the undulating track. We were closely followed by another truck carry a Dutch cycling couple.

The hotel further down the highway where we were dropped off was not expecting any visitors for several weeks. The road closure was a blessing in disguise for cyclists. The highway was traffic free, except for the contractors vehicles, for several hundred kilometres, effectively a superb cycle track. Whenever we came across a stretch of road undergoing repairs the workers would halt operations long enough for us to scramble through the site. We shared a room with the Dutch couple and a Swiss guy who was attempting to ride down the complete west coast of the Americas from Alaska to Chile.

Further south after leaving Highway One we stayed with Servas hosts when hitting major towns on the route; Monterey and San LuisObispo. The latter was the most memorable. Al and Jinks, a couple in their late seventies, hosted us as if there was no tomorrow. Absolutely delightful people, they took us on a car tour of the area. On our departure, Al put our bikes on his car roofrack and took us up the freeway over Cuesta Pass until the turnoff on the backroad to Bakersfield.

Two days memorable riding followed on the quietest roads imaginable including a detour to visit a dry soda lake. Arriving at my cousin Jean's house in Bakersfield we spent most of the next week being ferried around by Darralyn, my second cousin, who lived up in the mountains en route to Los Angeles. Visits to Santa Barbara and Ventura being amongst the highlights of our stay. Like all good things they don't last for ever. At the end of the fourth week Mary was put on an American Airlines flight at Los Angeles bound for the UK.

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Eric’s book The First Seventy Years can be obtained for £10 by contacting http://mary@bike2.wanadoo.co.uk or telephoning 01484-658175.

All the cash raised by the book goes to a water aid project in Malawi.