Day One: the first day of Autumn, Jack, and the World's Worst Burrito

This morning I said good-bye to Cathy and Greg and pedaled down the street away from their house.

From mark on a bike 08

From mark on a bike 08

Now, riding down the street, one mile 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 xxxx miles from home... On a BICYCLE??? You can't do this!!!!!!" Then, after a few more turns of the crank, another voice speaks up, this one sounding more like a little boy: "You're xxxx miles from home... On a BICYCLE!!! YEEEHAAAAW!!!!" So much for the Voice of Reason.

The map at the top of the page isn't just for decoration. It shows the topography of my route from San Diego to Phoenix. As you can see, there's a steep ascent starting on Day One. Last year, if you remember, I was so excited on my first day that I pushed harder then I should have and only ended up making 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 about 70 and was wearing a brace on his left knee. I thought, "Old? Near death? Bad knee? Now HERE'S a guy I can keep up with!" Of course, I was wrong. He passed me but with my riding skills I eventually caught up with him - as he was coming out of a Porta-Potty along the bike trail.

From mark on a bike 08

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 I 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 why - there were only PIECES of cars that had fallen off.

From mark on a bike 08

We missed a turn because he was talking, then missed another one shortly after that for the same reason. I didn't mind, though. It's the first day of Autumn, the weather is a perfect 70 degrees, and it's going to be a short day anyway. Besides, I was intrigued by the tour guide information: "A man was shot and killed right here at this corner a few months ago," "An 8-year-old boy was hit by a car and killed last year.... riiiiiight about here," and "My sister lives just down that road." Eventually, he turned south and I continued east. All in all, he made the 22 miles fly by, and I'm glad our paths crossed.

I stopped in Alpine to eat lunch at The Bread Basket. While there, I called the public library. I'm not exactly sure how it happens, but almost every time I'm in a town and want to go to the libray, 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. The Alpine library isclosed on Sundays and Mondays. I also called the campground (to make sure they're open), and the hotel in Pine Village, just in case I'm feeling ambitious later in the day. After finding out a room was more than I wanted to spend, I decided I would NOT be ambitious. (Pine Village 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.

This is a picture os an unusual-looking house along the way.

From mark on a bike 08

I stopped for the day at Ma-Tar-Awa RV Park for the night. It's on the Viejas Indian Reservation, a couple of miles off the route. The campsite was nice and the manager even gave me a site with electricity for no extra charge.

From mark on a bike 08

From mark on a bike 08

There's no cafe there, only a small store with a few microwaveable items. In this unlikely place I discovered.... the World's Worst Burrito. I've eaten bad food before. After all, I AM a guy. ("Huh? A house shoe? Not a waffle? Oh.") I've even eaten the famous "Gut Bomb" from the Mexican food place in Mill Valley, and I've intentionally done it more than once. But a Ramoana's (I may have accidentally spelled it with an extra "A") bean and cheese burrito exceeded all expectations.

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 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."

From mark on a bike 08

From mark on a bike 08

The people who work there are really nice, and if Betty is reading this I hope she realizes that it's no reflection on her. I was happy to be able to get anything to eat, and what should a person expect to find in an RV park?

It's kind of weird taking a trip this late in the year because it gets dark so early. Last year I remember still seeing light in the sky at 10:00. Now, it's dark by 7:00.

32.503 distance
54.9 max speed (obviously, this is incorrect - some type of errant electronic wave is causing it)
8.9 average speed
3:38.12 time (on the bike)
32.503 cumulative odometer