Epilogue

Tour endings are always bittersweet. For the last three and a half weeks I’d been pedaling sixty to seventy miles a day. All of a sudden there was no reason to get up at the crack of dawn, even when my body was primed to get out there. After a good night's sleep at the hotel, I had a nice breakfast at Cafe Reverie. I then cycled around San Francisco to see the sites. I didn’t see any sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf and I had to walk my bike up one of the steep hills. It was Pride day, and I’ve never seen so many rainbow flags in my life. Many of the thoroughfares were closed to motor traffic for Open Streets, and communities had constructed fanciful wooden structures. I noticed dozens of self-driving cars, which I had never seen before. 

I needed a bike box and went to Avenue Cyclery next to the hotel. They want $10 per box, and didn’t have the right size. I then went to American Cyclery. A mechanic measured my bike and went down to the basement to search, but didn’t have the right size. I then rode over to San Francyclo, about a mile and a half from the hotel. In front of the store, stuffed with folded cardboard, was the perfect box that I needed. The proprietor, Rich, was extremely friendly and helpful. I could have the box, but he needed some packing tape to build up a new box for all of the cardboard set out for recycling. By the time I got back with packing tape he had already done the transfer. I also grabbed a smaller box for my panniers, as well as packing cardboard. He was concerned about how I would get the large box back to the hotel, especially with the wind. I ended up walking my bike with the box balanced vertically on a pedal. It's a shame that I didn’t get a photo or video of the preposterous walk. 

Back at the hotel, I measured the box to make sure that I could bring it on the plane. It was eight inches under the limit. Because the box was so big, I wouldn’t have to take apart the front fork. I stripped everything down and packed it into the box. The smaller box was much bigger that what I needed for my gear. Once packed, I rode around for a while on a Revel motorized scooter. It made the hills easy, but on my way back I noticed that I was at 5% battery. I was concerned about street parking and a violation. I went to Padrecito for dinner and on the way back scored a smaller pannier box in front of SF Wheels. Everything was now in order for the flight home.

On Monday I rented a car and drove down to Santa Cruz visit my friends Ned and Ellen. Ned and I drove over to Greyhound Rock in the Pacific, and walked along the beach. Along the way we saw the horrific results of last year’s fire. For dinner Ned barbecued tempeh and made corn on the cob along with a fantastic salad. I baked an apple pie. Ned loves my apple pies. On Tuesday we had breakfast at Silver Spur where Ellen had a show of her fantastic paintings. Ned and I then drove over to meet his friend John. John had a beautiful house that he had constructed, surrounded by redwoods and with views of the Pacific. Ned and I hiked to a waterfall where we took a dip in a chilly watering hole. For dinner Ned made his famous pasta alle vongole. We stayed up late drinking beer and talking about the good old days.

Wednesday morning I got up early and drove to the airport. Check-in was smooth and I was only charged $75 to ship the bike. The flight was long and I had a middle seat. We had to wear our masks the entire flight as well as in the airport terminals. During the flight I edited my photos and worked on my stats. Things went smooth at JFK, and my bike and gear quickly emerged at the oversized luggage. I took an Uber back to Brooklyn, and Blanka was happy to see me. The following day I reassembled my bike and began the cleaning process. I had another tour planned in two week's time to prepare for. I continued to follow my east-bound friends' progress, and even saw Peter later in the summer when he rode through New York.

    

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