Jimmy and Leslie’s Mini-Adventure

Today’s Date: September 30, 2025

Today’s Start Point: Santa Cruz, California

Today’s End Point: Monterey, California

Today’s Miles: 72.53 Miles

Cumulative Miles: 1,190.70 Miles

I am finishing this up a day late because Papa needed some Sam time, I am sure the lack of a post just ruined your day.

Well, yesterday was the last day. I didn’t need to be at Jenna’s in Monterey until 3:30 pm and I only had a 50 mile day so I decided to sleep in and enjoy the morning. I have woken up at 6:00 am each day over the past two weeks so sleeping until 7:30 am seemed like a luxury. I slowly woke up, sat on the balcony and relaxed. I chose to leave at 11:00 am, feeling that this would give me plenty of time to get to Monterey.

Before I left, I cleaned my cleats and pedals to clear the sand out of them. The last thing I wanted was to flop over like a dead carp on the final day of the trip because I couldn’t unclip from the pedals.

It had rained again during the night, but my weather luck held out and I did not encounter much rain, if any, for the length of the trip. Santa Cruz and Monterey both sit on the coast of Monterey Bay, so my route would be primarily on the shore with an incursion inland. Leslie was going to Natural Bridges State Park to take in the views and then go ahead to see Jenna and Sam.

The beaches were relatively empty except for the volleyball players practicing in the sand. For the first ten miles of the route I would be on either a dedicated bike trail or well marked bicycle lanes on the roads. I rode by the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, built in 1907 and the oldest surviving amusement park in California.

I was taking it easy anticipating that this would be a nice leisurely ride: no cars, temperature in the 60’s, no real climbs and no strong winds (or so I thought). Surfers were out in force at a place called Pleasure Point. When I saw someone with an electric cargo bike that had a surfboard hanging off the side, I had to stop for a picture.

We started talking and his name was Brian. He had lived a nomadic life (his choice), sometimes in his car with the bike on the back. He told me what to expect on the road and we chatted for about a half hour. Interesting guy to talk to, and he had that California vibe.

I continued on at a slow pace, enjoying the weather and the sea breeze. The fun time ended at the fifteen mile mark. The route took me inland and now I was among vast swaths of produce fields, primarily artichokes. Mountains were to the east of me and over the horizon to the west was the Pacific.

It’s harvest time so the fields were filled with workers gathering the crops. It looks like back breaking work, as they stoop over to collect the vegetables. I am glad someone is here to handle this difficult task, I am sure our American born youth are dying to take these jobs.

The issue out in the open fields became the headwinds. I haven’t seen winds like this since my time in Wyoming and Northern Colorado last year. My pace slowed to a crawl and the constant pressure on the pedals made my right knee start to fail. The pleasurable beach ride turned into a slow march. There was nothing to block the wind, no trees or buildings. For a five mile stretch I was back on Highway 1, with a combination of the sound of constant traffic and the shrieking headwind. It was lower your head time and crank away.

When I arrived back to the beach at Marina at the 40 mile mark, the route took me onto the Monterey Peninsula Recreational Trail. The wind was still blowing hard, but at least I did not have to put up with the roar of the cars.

While fighting the wind on the trail, I came upon a young couple. Through the wind, we tried to have a conversation. I learned that they were from Belgium and were traveling from Vancouver, Canada to San Diego. Coincidentally, they had lived in Brussels and lived and went to school in Louvain (just outside Brussels).

I say coincidentally because the reason Brandon is in Monterey is because he was awarded an Olmsted Scholarship. According to Wikipedia:

“The Olmsted Scholar Program, named after George M. Olmsted, awards scholarships to highly qualified, active duty junior officers in the United States military in order to pursue language studies and overseas graduate-level education. Created in concert with the Department of Defense, the Scholar Program provides one year of foreign language training followed by two years of study at a foreign graduate school.”

Brandon is at the Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center to learn French (Jenna is taking online French classes as well). At the end of one year, he will study at the University of Louvain (founded in 1425), in order to get a Masters in a subject to be determined. As you can tell, we are very proud of him.

Getting back to the point, it’s amazing that I met two Belgians that went and met each other in the same place that the kids are moving to. I wanted to talk some more (and kick myself for not getting their information), but we were all struggling into the wind. Since I was not carrying all of the extra baggage they were, I continued on.

The path took me along the sandy beach. The sand combined with the strong winds meant that I will never need a chemical peel since the top two layers of my skin were blown away. The scenery was lovely and I knew I was getting closer to the Naval College as the runners looked fitter and the hair shorter.

I made it to Monterey at 3:30 pm and my directions indicated that I only needed to travel two miles to get to Sam’s house. What my directions did not tell me was that their house was on top of probably the steepest climb that I have seen so far. It wasn’t long, maybe a third of a mile, but I definitely needed to get out of the saddle to reach the top.

Eureka (the exclamation and not the town in California), I arrived at the summit to find Les with camera phone in hand, Jenna and my little buddy Sam running out from the house. An indescribable feeling, so I am not going to try, let’s just say I was gobsmacked.

We hugged, took some pictures. One of Sam’s first questions was if we could take a bike ride. I looked into his eyes and said “maybe”, to which he turned to Jenna and stated “he said yes”. The little man knows me too well.

Brandon came home from school shortly thereafter and we settled into a well-prepared meal and drinks prepared by Jenna.

With that, the riding part of our mini-adventure was done. For only two weeks, we covered a lot of ground. I am not sure Leslie ever wants to be in a car again, and I think her SAG wagon days are behind her. But she was a good trooper, handling the logistics, getting me out of tire related emergencies, doing the shopping (always on the lookout for the elusive bagels and chocolate milk), and occasional laundry duties. Oh, and selecting outstanding places to eat far in excess of anything provided by DQ.

This trip, outside of the shorter duration, was much different than last year. When I was alone last year, I felt like I was on a high wire without a net at times. I tried to replicate some of that this year by only calling Les for help the one time I absolutely needed it, but I knew she was always there.

The stages were a little longer than were probably best, but I am happy that I survived and my knees and hips are still functioning (relatively). The scenery was always memorable and the people I talked to along the way were charming.

I am still pushing my comfort zone in engaging with people on the road, but it is getting easier, and I like to think that it carries on to my “normal” life. I love to hear peoples’ tales, all different and from all over the world. There is still hope out there. There is a benefit in getting off the expressways and slowing down to see and hear the out of the way places and stories.

It was also great to see some old friends, Paul and Paula Kirsch and Dave and Jackie Lindsay. In a harried life too often we forget to reach out for those old connections. Of course, thanks to Paul (again), for getting back into the SUV saddle and riding once again to provide me with rest and recovery stops on the way to Santa Cruz. Not exactly a Hollywood western, but a hell of a good time (at least for me).

Last but not least, Sam and his parents Jenna and Brandon, for serving as motivation to get me off of the couch to attempt these trips knowing that they are the end point. I write this primarily for Sam so that years in the future he can see what his Papa was like in not exactly his prime, but before age further took its toll.

If you are still reading this, thanks for your kind comments and likes. They mean the world to me and I am glad that you came along for the ride. Stay upbeat, the world constantly changes so try to find the light out there.

It’s now time for me to take a few days of R&R and cuddle up with Sam. Les and I look forward to seeing the sights of the Monterey Bay Area, but at perhaps a slightly slower pace.