Part 17: Ocean, Sky, Freedom: West Coast Bicycle Adventure—Canada to Mexico—The Big Sur

By Frosty Wooldridge

“The stretch of serpentine highway south of Monterey Bay, California known as the Big Sur, creates a dynamic collision of cliffs and waves of the Pacific Ocean on the West Coast of America.  A cyclist sweats while climbing its serpentine ridges.  A cyclist yells with delight while screaming down its raging descents.  Cyclists stand with their mouths agape at every vista stop where the ocean collides with the rocky cliffs. At some point, you touch the waves, and at others, you fly 1,000 feet above the surf.  All in all, the Big Sur etches its grandeur into your thighs while carving memories into your adventure to last a lifetime.”  FHW 

Have you ever awoken one day on your own adventure not imagining what you faced?  Have you ever climbed a mountain only to be confronted by a bear?  Did you crack out of your tent to see a stunning sunrise?  What happened on that canoe trip in January in Michigan on the Pine River when you caught a log and fell into icy waters?  I did and froze half to death and caught pneumonia.  You never know what to expect on an adventure.   How do you define it?

(The Big Sur of California’s coast line features dramatic cliffs, ocean waves crashing on islands, seabirds, seals, whales, otters, dolphins and dramatic scenery.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

One thing equates to adventure: it may not always be comfortable, but it’s still adventure.

I woke up to birds squawking in the trees and the sound of waves crashing on the beach.  Seagulls bickered with one another while pelicans glided over the crest of waves.  I stretched, cooked breakfast and pulled up the tent, and packed the gear.

For the entire morning, I cranked up 1,000-foot cliffs only to descend back down to 300 feet.  The blue Pacific Ocean waters sparkled like trillions of diamonds.  Aspirin-white waves crashed onto sandy beaches.  Every kind of bird flew in every kind of formation.  The road resembled a thin snake with no end as it slithered around every contour of the terrain.

At one moment, I traveled through dense woods and just as suddenly, upward along a barren rock cliff.  Out in the water, rock islands featured hundreds of seabirds like cormorants, pelicans and osprey.  Otters slapped their flippers as they floated on their backs.  Seals played in the surf.

The stunning scenery around me made the pedaling incidental.  It felt like when those kids rode with E.T. across the full moon.  A feeling swept over me like I rode with the “Universe.” I pedaled an elegant serpent meandering on the wings of the Pacific Ocean.

The Bug Sur creates a gnarly, mystical energy that flies out of your body, onto the pedals and into the wild blue yonder.  You stop to gasp at the beauty at every ocean point vista overlook.  Of all the wonder of the West Coast of America, the Big Sur captures your youth to leave memories for your lifetime.

(Elephant seals sleeping by the thousands, stacked up on each other, flipping sand on their backs and barking for no apparent reason other than letting others know they are alive.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

Arduous climbs become triumphs for your spirit while the down hill roller coaster rides cause every cell in your body to cheer with joy.  You yell out in sheer delight while you charge into another sunlit blue sky curve delighting your world.

At one point on a vista outcrop point about 150 feet above a deep lagoon, I stopped for a drink. A lady sat on the rocks pointing out something to her husband who stood behind a 1,000 mm camera lens. 

“There she blows,” the lady said, pointing.

I looked down to see a 30-ton Gray whale and her baby calf surface out of the greenish-blue lagoon and blow 12-foot high columns of mist into the morning air.  The ocean water cascaded off their bodies to create a foaming white “aura” silhouetting their gray frames.  I grabbed my camera for a dozen shots of the miracle below me.  They played in the lagoon for 10 minutes before heading north toward their Arctic feeding grounds in Alaska.

(A 30 ton Gray whale and her baby calf popped up right underneath me at a vista point lookout. They played in the waters below me for 10 minutes before steaming north to Alaska waters to feed.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge 

“Man,” I muttered to myself.  “Am I the luckiest cyclist on the coast this morning or what!”

At another point, a line of pelicans glided over the waves as they flew in formation just for me. Another 50 white seagulls flew one behind the other in a flying line of dental floss for my imagination.  Behind them, a flock of 50 gray birds flew inches above the Pacific waters.

As I stood on the cliff, a 21-year-old girl hopped out of her red convertible Mustang along with a friend.

“What are you doing?” she said, pointing to my sign.

“Riding from Canada to Mexico,” I said.

“You’re insane,” she said, rather judgmentally.  “For God sakes, just drive a car.”

“Could you please make that, ‘Insanely happy!’” I said.

“No, I’ll keep with insane,” she said as she jumped into her car and sped off.

Without a doubt the Big Sur creates “moments” that stay with you for your lifetime.  Whether you write them down in your journal or they burn into your legs, you remember all of it.

At the next point, a small crowd watched five dolphins surfing the waves. I stopped to talk with them and share their wonder.  It reminded me of a John Muir quote from years ago, “How many hearts with warm red blood in them are beating under the cover of woods and water, and how many teeth and eyes are shining?  A multitude of animal people, intimately related to us, but of whose lives we know almost nothing, are as busy about their own affairs as we are about ours.”  January 1898

That night, I found a campsite to watch a stunning sunset over the waves.

Next morning, more and more of the same for 75 miles.  I stopped for lunch at Lucia Restaurant overlooking the ocean. Wow!   Later toward evening, I stopped at Gorda at the end of the Big Sur.  I met Woogi Shen, a Korean cyclist riding around the world.  Flawless English.  We bonded immediately.  Just a find young man exploring the world.  A Spaniard named Juan and his wife bought us some milk shakes.  People love to talk to long distance touring cyclists.  That evening, I stopped at San Simeon, home of the Hearst Castle. I expected to head up there in the morning.

(Three men watching the sun go down on the Pacific Ocean. Sublime moment of the ride.)  Photography By Frosty Wooldridge

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Frosty Wooldridge
Golden, CO

Population-Immigration-Environmental specialist: speaker at colleges, civic clubs, high schools and conferences

Www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com

Www.frostywooldridge.com

Six continent world bicycle traveler

Speaker/writer/adventurer

Adventure book: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World

Latest book:  How to Deal with 21st Century American Women: Co-creating a successful relationship

Frosty Wooldridge, six continent world bicycle traveler, Canada to Mexico summer 2014, 2,200 miles, 100,000 vertical feet of climbing:

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