the first day of autumn, jack the tour guide, world's worst burrito

September 22, 2008

Day One

"The scariest moment is just before you start."
- Stephen King -

"Don't give poorly constructed burritos a hard time.... they get a bad wrap."
- unknown -

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I spent last night at my cousin Cathy's, and her husband Greg, in San Diego. This morning I said good-bye and pedaled down the street away from their house.

my cousin, Cathy, and her husband, Greg, with whom I stayed last night

Now, riding down the street, a few hundred feet into my 3,100-mile trip, the thought floats to the surface of my consciousness:

WHAT WAS I THINKING????????

It happens at the beginning of every trip. The Voice of Reason: "You're 2,000 miles from home... on a BICYCLE??? What were you thinking?!?!?!"

Then, after a few more turns of the crank, another voice speaks up, this one sounding more like a little boy, squeaking with glee: "You're 2,000 miles from home... on a BICYCLE??? ....... YEEEHAAAAW!!!!" So much for the Voice of Reason.

Last year I was so excited on my first day that I pushed harder than I should have and ended up with knee pain on day two. I only made it up the first set of mountains with the help of the manufacturer of ibuprofen, some excellent music, and by traveling at a tortoise's pace. This year I'm determined not to make the same mistake.

Five minutes into my trip a guy on a bike pulled up beside me. He looked around 70 and was wearing a large brace on his left knee. I thought, "Old? Bum knee? At last, here's a guy I can keep up with!"

Of course, I was wrong. He passed me, but I eventually caught up with him, although, since he was coming out of a Porta-Potty along the bike trail, it was more likely a difference in bladder volume than cycling skill.

He was kind enough to ride a little slower and we traveled together for 22 miles. I learned that his name is Jack, a native San Diegan who retired ten years ago from working in the UCSD lab.

As we were talking he suggested we turn onto the Father Junipero Trail (pictured below), which is where I was supposed to have turned had I been paying attention. So, when he later suggested an alternate route which had less traffic, I thought it would be a good idea.

"It's a little rougher, but there won't be any cars."

When we got there, I understood what he meant: there were no cars, only parts of cars littering the road... random pieces of taillights, fenders, and lug nuts were scattered along the way like dice at a game of craps.

We missed a turn because he was talking, then missed another one shortly after that for the same reason. Even so, I didn't mind. It's the first day of Autumn, the weather is a perfect 70 degrees, and it's going to be a short riding day so I don’t need to put in a lot of miles. Besides, I was intrigued by the information gleaned from my tour guide:

"A man was shot and killed right here at this corner a few months ago."

I glanced around to see if there were any suspicious-looking people with automatic weapons lurking behind hedges, but the area appeared to be a normal suburban neighborhood. He continued…

"An 8-year-old boy was hit by a car and killed last year.... riiiiiight about here."

My attention slipped away from a search for suspicious people to a search for moving vehicles, and I started scanning the area for anything within striking distance. Squinting across the street, I wondered, "How fast can that riding mower go?" Then, peering down the road I thought, "Sure, that garbage truck looks slow, but is it faster than a guy on a loaded touring bike who can't outpace an elderly guy with a bum knee?"

He roused me from my thoughts with, "My sister lives just down that road."

All in all, he made the 22 miles fly by and we parted before I reached Alpine.

In Alpine (pop. 14,236) I stopped for lunch at The Bread Basket. While there, I called the public library. I suspect it's somehow related to the outstanding $1.17 fine on a book I borrowed from my local library back in 1972, but every time I'm in a town and want to go to the library, I'm there on a day they happen to be closed. If I'm in town on a Wednesday, the library will be closed Sundays and Wednesdays. Today is Monday so, unsurprisingly, the Alpine library is closed on Sundays and Mondays.

I also called the campground to make sure they're open, and the hotel in Pine Valley, just in case I'm feeling ambitious later in the day. After finding out a room was about $50.00 more than I wanted to spend, I realized my ambition stopped at around ten more dollars more. (Pine Valley is farther up the road, and it doesn't have a campground, so I would have to rent a hotel)

After eating and resting a while I started riding again but only made it a half mile before being drawn to an old-fashioned diner, Fred's, which had homemade chocolate shakes for half off on Mondays. That'll make up for a closed library anytime. Twenty minutes later I was on the road again, my belly suffused with the happiness that only hand-dipped ice cream can bring.

an unusual and interesting house along the way

I stopped for the day at Ma-Tar-Awa RV Park to camp, on the Viejas Indian Reservation, a couple of miles off the route. The campsite was nice (read: lots of shade), and the manager even gave me a site with electricity for no extra charge.

There's no cafe, only a small store with a few microwaveable items. It was in this unlikely place I discovered.... the World's Worst Burrito.

I've eaten bad food before ("Erm... did you say a house shoe? not a waffle?"), and have even downed the famous "Gut Bomb" from the Mexican food cafe in Mill Valley. Intentionally. And more than once. But a Ramoana's bean and cheese burrito (I may have accidentally spelled it with an extra "A") exceeded all expectations (unless "underceeded" is a word - then it did that).

I carefully followed the directions, wrapping it in a paper towel, heating it, turning it over and heating it some more. When I unwrapped it, the paper towel was stuck to the burrito which, I would soon learn, was actually a good thing, considering the taste and texture of the tortilla.

You have to give it to them for truth in advertising, though... It doesn't say "beans and cheese burrito," just "bean and cheese burrito."

I'm not sure why I'm complaining, though. What should a person expect to find in an RV park?

It's getting dark early. During last year's trip I remember still seeing light in the sky at 10:00. Now, it's dark by 7:00.

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distance: 32.5 miles
maximum speed:   54.9 mph (obviously, this is incorrect - some type of errant electronic wave is causing it)
average speed:    8.9 mph
time on bike   3:38:12
cumulative odometer: 32.53

Today's ride: 32 miles (51 km)
Total: 32 miles (51 km)

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