The Gatekeeper, a Gender Specific Festival, and a 50 Mile Descent

Day: 55 (Hope Valley Campground, CA to Plymouth, CA)

Average Speed: 11.5 MPH

Miles Cycled Today: 74.1

Miles Cycled Total: 3, 728

Mood: Exhilarated 

Mailbox Outside of Plymouth, CA

Today's Route: Circled Spots are Extremely Difficult Climbs.

Today was not nearly as easy as I thought it would be. Looking at the map, it’s hard to see anything except the ginormous descent waiting. In fact, if you look closely, it almost seems as if a cyclist pedaling down the face of mountain would hit one of the tiny uphill ramps and be launched into the Pacific Ocean.  

Not so. 

All those circled spots were times I had to put the bike in its lowest gear and work quite hard. And the three climbs we started with before hitting the descent? Yeesh. Grunted all the way up each. A 10 mile climb to start the day might not sound like too big a deal, but when you’re moving a 3.5 MPH, it’s rough. 

But it was so worth it. Eventually.

View from Carson's Pass

It's All Downhill-Ish from Here!

A park ranger met us almost immediately at the famous Carson’s Pass (the summit, so to speak) and asked if we would like him to take a picture of me and Jamie together (what are we going to say? No?). He knew exactly what we were doing, where we started, and where we were headed, and he very cordially played the gatekeeper to the final days of our trip, offering us sincere congratulations and reminding us of what an accomplishment we had achieved in reaching our last summit. 

Then he told us about the two more climbs we still had to complete.

Both were surprisingly difficult.

I was glad to see Jamie working just as hard as I, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to mock my grunting. 

Silver Lake at Kit Carson Resort

Just before the last Major Climb, we stopped for lunch at a strangely secluded resort where there was some sort of festival going on. Someone had recommended we stop there because “…there’s a lot of tents set up, and that means they’re giving out free stuff.”

Don’t ask me twice. 

We perused and took advantage of anything that looked like a handout. Chewy vitamin samples? Yes, please! Electrolyte replacement beverages? Don’t mind if I do! A free spin on a ElliptiGO bike? Hell no. 

Never.

While sampling the goods at one tent, a vendor casually mentioned that we were at a women’s survival festival (described on the website as a "...women's only weekend getaway").

Funny how long it took us to notice we were the only two men in the entire place. 

We sidled out quickly and went on our way.

Time's Tickin' Fellas... Lotta Work To Do!

Although we only climbed for about 15 or 16 miles, it took a considerable amount of time (4-5 hours or so), and we were both pretty well spent by the time we hit the downhill. 

At first, even the descent was difficult. There were deep fissures in the road every two or three feet (I have a new respect for my bike after surviving all of those), an onslaught of cars, and a lot of short, steep uphills that put a halt to the "Wheeee! Factor."

But eventually, our route took us on a back road, and the serious fun began. Two solid hours of cruising at 25 MPH while joyfully careening around sharp curves through the California country side and depending on momentum to get over hills. It was a blast. A cycling highlight of the entire trip, for sure. 

So Good.

We fell a few miles shy of the original destination to Folsom (yes… the Folsom forever immortalized by Johnny Cash), but were equally happy to land in the tiny town of Plymouth, where good food and quality bear was waiting. 

Like the east coast, it’s not common for people to camp in the town park. And we are currently getting a lot of Hairy Eyeballs from... well, from the entire town. 

We are giving them right back. 

I can’t be sure, but I’d venture a guess that the Pokemon GO frenzy is near its end, so there’s no longer a good reason for them to be in the town park at 11 PM either. 

One of These Has Room for Three...

In an effort to remain discreet, Jamie opted not to set up his chateau that he calls a tent (see pic from last night. Mine’s the modest one).

Jamie's Third Attempt at 
Packing his Mansion this Morning

I think he’d just prefer not to take an hour packing it back up in the morning. 

Going to shoot for Cordelia tomorrow. 95 miles is a tall order, especially when navigating through big cities like Folsom and Sacramento, but if I can make it there, it’ll be a short, relaxing ride to the Pacific on Monday. 

A short ride to the Pacific.

Never thought I’d say that. 

P.S.

Your Daily Dose of Sexism 

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