Refreshed as I'd slept on a transatlantic red-eye in coach on United, I get up and start readying myself to leave. I begin to have those nagging thoughts about bringing too much shit with me. Jason makes us a killer cup of coffee, we eat some rehydrated cardboard flake and we get on the road.
After a quick stop at Breaking Away Bicycles for a barrel adjuster, we climb out of Fairfax. I've done this climb a few times before but never loaded. Fortunately there are no million dollar wild fires today, but that doesn't mean it's not hot, the road kill still manages a nice slow braise on the pavement. Not that I've ever been a fan of climbing, but this was not part of the "fun" people talk about while touring. Still once you do it, the long downhill into the redwoods is like drinking ice cold beer.
We arrive at Samuel P. Taylor park and finagle our way into a campsite. Our chase car filled with real ice cold beer is still miles away. In the meantime Brad and I jam to Pt. Reyes Station for tonight's dinner. On route, like a mirage rising out of the desert, we are greeted with the Marin Sun Farms Butcher Shop. If you are a vegetarian, skip this next part, unless you still like meat. In which case, you should read this while eating a block of seitan.
Unlike a mirage in the desert, this one is filled with grass feed meats from within a few miles. After riding in the early evening wind tunnel to the coast we could only pray it was open, It was nearly 6 pm. Like perfectly fried strips of bacon, we are greeted with a wonderland of fresh meats of every specie. Rib-eyes and tenderloins are trimmed before our eyes as if a meat genie was granting wishes. The bill for six pounds isn't awful, it's ridiculous — but worth it.
We pick up tots, veggies, and a 12 pack of beer just in case the car has not arrived by the time we get back. This would be a recurring theme. It also was something that I've learned is complete idiotic. Less idiotic was stopping for pot-stickers from the racist typography food truck. After our stickers we jam the 8 miles back to camp and our chase car has arrived with the women and ice cold beer. It was better than a podium ceremony.
A little shadow theater at Jason's Costco Tent Palace provides some pre-dinner entertainment, or something. If you're a vegetarian who has skipped the preceding sections continue here and look at this f---ing meat. Expertly prepared by camp chef Brad, the meats were a welcomed protein boost after a hard day on the bike.
We sit with our bellies full of meat and potatoes, eyes glazing over with campfire, it's like TV but hotter. I'm tired as hell today but at least I've showered.