Peenie Wallie

I went back to Cycle Gear, and made them tell me for sure that the gear they sold me earlier this year - the $500 jacket and pants that promptly fell apart - was, in fact, the best gear they carried. And that they don't carry one-piece suits you can wear over your street clothes.

At this point, I just decided to put on all the clothes I was carrying and go for it. Basically, this means long johns, jeans, camo pants, outter rain gear layer pants. T-shirt, sweater, denim shirt, leather jacket, outter rain gear layer jacket. Gloves. Camo boots that are falling apart with big holes in the toes.

I was so hot I was sweating like a whore in church as I drove through the city. I went to see my buddies at Golden Gate Cycles. They have a helmet with flames on it that fits me for $80, and I've had my eye on it all year. Finally, I broke down and bought it today. My reasoning for this is that the helmet I have out here came with the bike, and it's a size too large, so at highway speeds, it wobbles around on my head like a bobble-head.

I'm standing there, checking out this $80 helmet, trying to come up with an excuse not to buy it. My glasses won't fit. Or I won't be able to shoot as well wearing it. I test it out as best as I can and finally decide that buying a helmet that fits won't be a bad move, at the end of the day. So I grab the black one with Red flames on it like Evil Knevil and ask them to take some "before" pictures of me in front of the store, which they do.

I head across the Golden Gate Bridge and the Gods are truly in a conspiracy against me. Waves off fog rip across the bridge. Winds so strong that I lean down as low on the bike as I can and struggle to stay in my lane. Just lunacy. The wind is freezing cold. Why is the weather like this when I try to take my little trip? It's been so nice lately.

The Marin Headlands are no better. Vicious winds strip the dust and trash from the US 101, sandblasting the vehicles indiscriminately. I remember how glad I was when I got into the tunnel. Finally, a break from the winds.

I head North to Petaluma and gradually, the winds die down and the temperature rises. How odd that one minute I'm sure I'll be blown in to the frigid bay, and then the next minute, all is well.

Turkey Vultures circle over head. I get in the HIV lane and just open it up. I follow the US 101 Redwood Highway to Petaluma, where I'll cut over to Bodega Bay because I've seen CA 1 from SF to Bodega Bay so many times I've lost count.

The journey really hasn't begun for me yet. It hasn't sunk in. But finally, I make it down to the Bodega Bay Dunes and finally, I feel like the adventure has begun.

It's really not easy to drive up the Sonoma coast. I mean, sure, in theory, you can get on your bike and drive up the coast. There is that. But I can't go 100 yards without stopping and gawking and shooting away like mad at the coastline.

So, I'm not making good time any more. But, it does slowly dawn on me that I've never seen the Sonoma coast before. At least, not north of Bodega bay. I remember this summer I saw a guy in SF wearing a sweatshirt that said "Sonoma Coast" and I asked him "Does Sonoma have a coast?" This is how stupid I was. But, I think that the time I went to Mendocino, I came down from the north through Fort Bragg and Mendocino, and then cut over on CA 128 to US 101 and dropped south. I think I've never seen this coast before. I'm pretty sure of it.

So, I'm driving and shooting and not making good time but I don't really care because, what's the point? If I wanted to go fast, I'd hop on I-5.

I slowly drift north and, every time I see someone stopped, I tell them that I'm driving to Alaska and some of them want to see my photos, so I take to tearing off little slips of paper with www.peeniewallie.com scrawled illegibly onto the paper.

If they're shooting, and appear to know what they're doing, I stop and interrogate them. They're frequently shooting the same cameras I am. So, I try to learn something from them, and I pick up all sorts of little tricks. Sometimes I have advice to offer. Sometimes they do. Always, they give me tips on where to stay and what to see in Vancouver, Seattle, Ketchikan, etc. Just brilliant, really. A beautiful slow-motion journey through the most scenic place on earth.

One woman that I talk to asks me if it isn't dangerous to drive the bike on CA-1.

I think about that. About the twisting, switchbacks of a two-lane black-top road with no shoulder and breathtaking drops on one side and rocks tumbling down the face of the mountain on the other. Dead animals in the road. Deer crossing like crazy at dusk. People driving, staring at the ocean, never glancing at the road.

"Why would it be dangerous?" I ask.

"Because there aren't any bike lanes," she calmly explains.

"Bike lanes? Why would I want those?" I query.

"So that you won't get run over."

"My bike will go a hundred and five. I promise you I could outrun your stupid little Prius."

But this is the way of people, I think. Clueless and vociferous.

The sun sinks lower and lower and, at some point, I decide I'm going to have to get moving, so I just open up that XR650L. Now that it's dark, I just open it up and let in breathe. I'm flying down the road, braking hard for the turns. By the time I get to Mendocino, it's dark.

I stop and ask some place if they have a room but it's $229.00 a night. And I'm like "Are you on crack? Who has that kind of money? Isn't there an alley I could sleep in for a few hours. Will you watch my cameras for me?"

"Seriously. Where can I say for less than $200 a night?" I ask the dimwit behind the counter.

"Well, if you're looking for some place really cheap, then you should go to Fort Bragg."

"I'm not looking for some place really cheap. Just something reasonable."

So I race on to Fort Bragg and find a little No Tell Motel called the Surf Motel and I go inside and crash so hard. I only slept two hours last night and I'm totally exhausted. My bike's odomoter says I drove 194.9 miles today, which isn't bad considering that I didn't leave until after 3:00 p.m. And that I only slept two hours last night. And that I woke up in Colorado this morning. So, all things considered, I think I did fairly well on day one. Tomorrow, though, I'll have to try to make up for it and have a big day. I've got to get my wheels into Oregon tomorrow.