I had to get a library card in San Clemente even though I'm only using a computer and I'm pretty tired and just need to ride for a while then sleep

I'm tired. I've been smoking a lot. I'm pretty sure I could be a candidate for scurvy. I'm getting a ride back to Oakland tomorrow. Then I'm buying a train ticket to western Colorado. Then I'm biking to Cleveland. Then I'm going to get a ride to Chicago. First I need to sleep for a while and eats salads. Pretty sure the Canadians are in the same boat. They started in Vancouver, Canada and said the word 'eh' with emphasis. They also did the whole trip fixed. I'm not sure why they have their fingers like that. I rode with them for a couple days, mashed up hills, took smoke breaks, and drank too much. Feeling kind of nostalgic. Also pretty excited to shift into my granny gear without feeling like an asshole. Check out their website @ http://coastnocoast.com

Blurrrr

My eyes have taken on rosey fractals. I can't see the scenery with my sunglasses on and the sand acts like sand flying into my eyes off trucks and trees and other stationary moving objects. I don't think it's from stress, but certain things appear more, like, in another dimension. This field was so orange it looked like I was on drugs. I wasn't. It was more orange than candy or coloring or any other marigold field I've ever seen. And some things are just like that. They are too vivid. And my eyes are still irritated, and I can't feel my left pinky, and I wasn't quite sure where those kids went that I met in Monterey. The Marigolds are orange. The feeling eventually comes back to the hands. I met them again outside of Santa Barbara.

near creeks and other larger bodies of water

I've been sleeping near creeks and wasting my time by a large body of water, the Pacific, which isn't overwhelming me with any romantic notions of beauty. Nor am I filled with the transient idea of water moving indefatiguably. I just need somewhere to hang out. There's water everywhere. And every watery nook is beautiful. This place didn't even have a drinking fountain, just a creek. I almost drank from it, but the idea of peeing through my ass stopped me.

New Tour on the One

I'm afraid my mother doesn't know about this one. For good reason. It's a harrowing ride with little to no shoulder and I'm broke. It seems like people can tell when you genuinely need help. Perhaps the only way to get help is to need it. I mean, really need it. I'm not sure if people help out of obligation. Telling themselves, 'this might be the last time someone sees her before she bikes off a cliff because it is dark and this road is winding and who knows what someone would do to her. She's all alone. She could get mauled by a mountain lion or my uncle Bill that drives this road a little too drunk a little too late at night.' This is how I met Cindy. I would've biked another twenty miles in the dark, but she chauffeured me to an inlet in the bay with all this nautical junk, some trailers, and some dogs. It looked gathered and organized by a tweeker. She was not a tweeker. She was house-sitting. The tweaker junk was rad. And she was lonely. And I listened. And then I left.

August 2- Say Summit ten times fast

sounds like submit. I've summited six times in the past couple days. I will summit another time today. That's Nevada. I am also biking centuries across the state. Dan is going to bike centuries and some change. Why? A number of reasons. I'm not going to bother validating any of them. Dan is a beast. Dan is also a continuing member of the clean plate club and the eats-full-meals-instead-of-the-snacks-I usually-eat club. Bye Dan.

August 1- NEVADA

Entered into Nevada today.


















and the desert looks like this. Except there's lots of dirt and small shrubs, but the moutains are always in the distance, and every now and then you see a tree, like a big one, near some sort of abandoned structure with a wooden fence near it that looks like a trail of fallen dominos. I have decided my subconscious looks like the desert.

July 31- A New

I got a new touring partner, started a new map for a new state, and am donning a new accessory, further pushing me into the category of 'feral'. Before Ariel got on the GreyHound, we gave each other hair wraps. At the end of each is a feather from the genea hens at the Berkeley's house in Salida, CO (side note: I didn't wear spandex for a week because it was making me smell like plastic and sweat. Started wearing it again today, and the situation hasn't changed.) My new touring partner's name is Dan. Met him ten minutes after seeing off Ariel. He's British. He biked from Virgina. He's kind of a beast. In a good way.


This is Dan and myself hanging out in a pavilion in Milford, Utah, where we slept the first night. The sprinklers came on in the middle of the night and soaked our tents. WHY WERE THERE SPRINKLERS IN A PARK IN SW UTAH? This astounded us. So much so, that we turned into teenage girls (found this picture on a library computer in Ely, Nevada).