Sacramento To San Francisco - The Longest Way.

I decided to ride from Sacramento to San Francisco, a nice 130-something miles through Napa County to go over the Golden Gate Bridge right into San Francisco, I didn't have much time for a proper cyclotour in California, so a one day tour sound rather idea, the most direct way is 87 miles catching the ferry, but who want to have it shorter?

I 'bikepacked' the Lotus with a seatbag, enough necessary provision for two nights in San Francisco, couple of shirts, t-shirt, boxers, socks, toothbrush and paste, deodorant, soap, first aid, inner tube, phone charger, hand towel, Clif bar (they're everywhere!) and of course, my passport with emergency contact detail.

Handlebar bag have the necessary stuff I will use during the ride, camera, hearing aid battery, iPod, money, notebook, small Rivendell magazine, phone, inner tube, puncture repair kit, tyre lever, pump and allen keys set.

Lastly a map case on the handlebar.

The first couple of hours are the kind we don't quite like; getting out of the city, the long tiresome straight bicycle path alongside the highway is pretty dull and littered with debris, doesn't help with a bit of a headwind, luckily didn't feel as difficult as a touring bike with panniers.

the next stop is Winters, passing the sleepy (but very bicycle-friendly) town of Davis, what I have notice is that there's a lots of yellow sign with black arrow marking showing the direction, even on the slightest of curve, it's odd to think that the American needed reminding that they have to turn their vehicles at some point in their journey, their road tend to be quite straight so I'm not surprised that it can be hard work to keep your brain awake while keeping the vehicle nice and straight until you almost hit a hedge.

Nearing Winters, it's those small old town from the old west, my friend recommended me to go to my namesake's coffee house (Steady Eddy's Coffeehouse), The special of the day (sicilian) was fucking delicious, the bread is fresh off the oven, the tomatoes is juicy, even the potatoes salad was great, little did I realised that the glass bottled coke tend to have sugar instead of the dreaded corn syrup regrettably found it's way in nearly all the soda pop in the states, two bottles down the drain and off I pop.

The next few miles got better, road still generally straight but it's getting more into the countryside, wine country really, and this is what I see when I'm approaching Napa County, it doesn't look menacing, nor big like some of the mountain in the Sierra, but damn it does look rather inviting, the sort of scenery you look at and go "fuck man I can't wait to get there".

Man it was breathtaking, so breathtaking I forget to even breathe, it's one of those moment where you can't help but chuckle at the sheer notion of riding through such scenery, Babel O'Riley just came up on my iPod and I end up singing that loudly without a care in the world, the driver of an SUV whom just overtook me slowly look rather befuddled by a scraggy bloke with a chequed shirt and cowboy hat riding no handed doing an air guitar the moment "teeeenage wastelaaand" came up.

That felt SO good.

It's no Hoover Dam but it was lovely, the lake never looked so clear too, at that point I realised that it took me an hour to get from Winters to the Dam, of which can be driven through in 15 minutes in a car, after going through out of the valley into the car-centric town of Napa, it took me a good 3 hours to go through 30 miles while for a normal vehicles with the speed limit - 45 minutes, they really don't know what they're missing, especially descending down some wonderful slope, the road were lovely, it's not perfect, but smooth enough for the skinny 25c (look more like 23c) tyres to be comfortable on.

This is when I discovered that my hat have a certain speed limit embedded, when I reach 17mph, the hat gain velocity and propelled itself into the atmosphere before crashing back down on planet Earth, man that was annoying having to turn around and retreat the bloody hat, it now strapped onto the seatbag until there's no more rolling hills to be had.

Puncture.

I never had them in England, the last time was a large nail through the back tyre near Stockwell tube at 10pm, but that's about it, sudden upon arriving the congested town of Napa, I pulled over as my rear tyre went flat all of a sudden, upon inspection I noticed several thorn embedded on the tyre, the sickened feeling of pulling the thorn out showing how long it is, is something I do not like to experienced again.

I decided to check the front tyre, it's properly inflated, but lo and behold, more thorn! luckily it was so embedded it's literally plugging the tyre to stop air coming out, so it's a cruical decision to either carry on riding like that, or replace both inner tube, I choose the latter.

The rear have a slow puncture, didn't matter, I just topped it up every 30 minutes so it won't be too soft to get a pinch puncture, going through Old Sonoma Road in Sonoma County only 50 miles to go to San Francisco, the traffic was getting dense as it was half five, I lost an hour at Napa checking and replacing both inner tube, one hour made a huge difference, 15 miles exactly, so I have to make up for lost time by keeping a higher average speed.

As I was riding through Fremont, I stopped at a lovely little diner, obviously it turn out to be closed, but in the outdoor seating there's a small party for a friend of the diner, they saw me pulled over, and open the diner so I can have two bottled coke (bliss), not only that but kindly offered me a slice of marshmallow/chocolate cake, that was spectacular, man I ate it all and licked the plate clean, so glad I don't have to resort to the Clif bar, I bid them farewell and wish their friend a wonderful birthday.

Nearing Sonoma Airport, I was overtaken by an SUV driven by two lovely ladies whom appear to be heading home from mountain biking from the look of their 29ers in the back, they gave me some energy snack, I didn't fancy them but was so grateful for it, the kindness speak volume, as I stood up, to wave them goodbye, my fucking hat blew off, argh! I loved that hat, it's a cheap $30 from a recreational shop, but I loved it.

The hill are getting less pronounced, starting to calm down a bit, still a lovely ride on the Old Sonoma Highway right nearing Highway 37, then the inevitable happen; pinch puncture, I was going quite fast and forget to inflate my rear tyre at the proper pressure as it been an hour, and I hit a small lips on the road crossing a tiny ford "thurrrmph thurrrmph, trurrrmph" that unmistakable sound of a deflated tyre.

Fuck.

Not only upon discovering that I have a pinch puncture which is easy to fixed, but four! four fucking pinch in one go, I'm still in mind about how the hell it happened, applying patches on all but one recently discovered tiny puncture is nerve wrecking (bringing the grand total of five), once pumped up it hold reasonably well, but I have to top it up every 10 minutes this time, not fun when I'm nearing the notorious highway 37, nothing bad about it, it's just the fact it's an 65mph one is very off putting at dusk, large hard shoulder is enough to keep a good distance from the trucks until I've approached a bridge, with no hard shoulder, nor a tiny kerbs at 8pm where it's pitch black but the small light on the bicycle.

Fuck.

I have to time my approach, not long ago I passed a traffic junction 30 minutes ago, once all the traffic stopped, I jumped on the bike and sprint away, cause a new pinch puncture when going over the lips of the bridge but I didn't care, I have to sprint all the way across the bridge before traffic approaching.

I didn't make it.

Obviously if I didn't make it, I wouldn't be writing this report, I have to cling onto the railing with the bicycle next to me as the huge American truck thunder by honking and flashing it's light in astonishment of a lone cyclotouriste hugging the bridge as if it's the love of his life.

This is where I started to ride with a flat all the way to San Francisco, the last 30 miles was a blur, all I can think of is the music playing in my iPod and my destination, I didn't even realised I've ridden through the Golden Gate Bridge until halfway at 10pm, god it was cold but feel so good to be in San Francisco, the hostel is still a long way but I didn't care, i'm in the city already, that was enough for me. I arrived at Ford Mason Hostel, it was an old army barrack, at least I think it is from the look of it, they hasn't got any room for me, but allowed me to crash on the sofa with provision to grab a shower and such, woke up the next morning realising I'm in the common room, not many people though as I liked waking up early at 8am smelling the fresh pine coming from the window, man it feel good to be fully rested, even if I got stuck onto the faux leather sofa, which was as painful as peeling a plate sized large sunburnt off your back.

I made it, the last 30 miles was horrible simply due to something as simple as holding air in my rear tyres, surprisingly I'm not sore at all which is a lovely feeling after the boneshaking, lastly, the vista of San Francisco;

Sounds like an awesome trip.

Great report Ed. Good work man!

wow!

That sounded like a wonderful journey Ed.

Great pics.

I miss the old days when you pretended to ride. :[

Great report ed, sounds like a fun little adventure

Nearing Sonoma Airport, I was overtaken by an SUV driven by two lovely ladies....... I didn't fancy them but was so grateful for it,

Ftfy

cool story Ed, enjoyed it. Makes me itch to get out and see more of the world with 2 wheels below me.

Sounds like you need a puncture repair workshop and training in the "death-grip".

Crossing the bridges sounds terrifying, lights not bright enough to control the lane, or just no chance of that happening?

it's 65mph Tom, it's more the speed and the drivers not expecting a cyclist on a highway, i was suppose to arrived in SF before dusk, so only had a feeble light attached to the back, foolishly left my bright one at a friend's house.

I brought two spare inner tube, and a puncture repair kit with 5 patches, all of them were used up.

I know the feeling of being caught out like that, awful feeling of dread something bad could happen.

fair one, you must have been unlucky with those thorns. Were you wishing you'd swapped the tyres over from your gangsta?

Still looks an unreal ride... proper jealous.

Excellent writing Ed.

fair one, you must have been unlucky with those thorns. Were you wishing you'd swapped the tyres over from your gangsta?
.

Kind of, the tyres are 33.3c, and it just about clear the brake bridge, also foolishly not realising that this is thorn county, i mount the bicycle off the road in order to take the vista, this is where I must have gotten the thorn that made it way into my tyres.

wow! great write-up ed and wonderful pics too. a great one to tell the grandchildren - or dine out on.

Thats great, makes me want to get out and ride.

thanks for sharing

nice write up Ed..

Fuckig awesome!

great photos ed, really brings the story to life.

tl;dr

great pics though

:)

You at your very best Ed, lovely story.

Excellent write-up Ed. Thanks for sharing this. Are you still in San Francisco?

Nope, already in Sacramento packed the Lotus in my bicycle bag to take home, managed to get the weight down at 22kg (including clothes and whatnot).

Need to box the Brooklyn rust bucket to be send home, already sold the wheelset (cheap open pro/generic hubs) so it'll be a lots smaller and lighter.

Good stuff Ed, great writing and fantastic pictures. Really makes me want to go to Californ-I-A (like I didn't already).

I know you wanted to do Dungeness but I think the open road stateside aces it somewhat ;)

Brilliant Ed. Great ride; great report.

enjoyed that scoblistic diversion, well done fella.