L to R: Joey, Cousin Hillary. Hillary and her daughter Courtney took good care of us.
L to R; Joey, Jeffrey. Hillary thought we two should be in a photo for a change.
Fog came and went all day as we rode west from Carpinteria, then north.
Tracks, but no commuter trains. This is motor vehicle country.
Farms are in every direction.
Ordinarily we don’t photograph roadkill. This beautiful owl is an exception.
On Highway 101.
Cycling through a major highway tunnel was a first for us. The warning lights were activated by a motion sensor. Jeffrey pushed the failsafe button, too. Then he pedaled fast to minimize the time squeezed against the curb with motor vehicles whizzing by in the semi-dark.
This sign was just beyond the tunnel. Exit 132 led to Highway 1 and a steep 1.8 mile (3 km) uphill on terrible pavement—an exhausting combination. Past the crest, the pavement remained bad but for the remaining 20 miles to Lompoc, the trend was downhill.
Bump, rattle . . . every inch is a struggle.
Find the horse, for scale.
R to L: Cousin Cindy, and Lou, greeted us in Lompoc with a sign and saw to our every need. Somehow they left my name off the sign . . .
Today was mostly a travel day. People saw our signs, gave us waves and toots and thumbs-ups, called out words of congratulation (for having pedaled from NYC) and encouragement. But we didn’t stop for lunch, didn’t visit a roadside parking area, didn’t go to where people have time and inclination to chat with a stranger.
It’s a reminder that there’s more to these Rides than pedaling through the countryside.
Tomorrow we’ll try to mingle a little more.
Ride for Human Rights 