Gas Station Forecourt to Well Deserved Hot Tub!

We woke up just after 5am the next day and got up about 30 minutes later after discussing possible options for the day and got packed up and were on the road by 7am.  We had decided we would head south and climb over the hills via Kings Mountain Road (not an appealing name!) and aim straight for Henry Cowell SP just inland from Santa Cruz.  After climbing up Bunker Hill again, the ride out of Crystal Springs was nice and we had great wide shoulder/bike path to ride along Canada Road amidst the beautiful scenery of wooded hills.  We stopped at the foot of Kings Mountain Road at Woodside Store for second breakfast – we thought Woodside Store would be a store, but it was an historical landmark, but there was a water spigot (get me and all my American lingo).

 

While we were just getting the bread, bananas & peanut butter ready a sporty lady cyclist passed us, turned around and came back for a chat.  She asked if we were heading up this road and we said ‘uh-huh’, 'hmm', she said, 'you’re carrying quite a load'.  We said that we’d been recommended to climb up Old La Honda, but that we’d not been able to find it.  She said ‘Oh that’s a much better bet; much quieter, not as high and it’s just down this road’ and gave us directions.  We chatted a bit more and then she set off up the hill on her morning ride.  We ate breakfast and turned left in search of Old La Honda.  THANK GOD we chose this way.  It was really, really tough and I ended up having to get off and walk and then Tom did the same, more to keep me company I think.  The lady cyclist had said the Kings Mountain Road went up to about 1600ft and Old La Honda was about 1300ft so we saved ourselves 300ft, but yet it seemed to go on and on and on.  It was beautiful, gorgeous pine tree clad slopes and quiet winding roads, but just when you thought ‘I think we’re near the top’ we’d turn a corner and the hill would just continue on.  I think we probably took at least 2 hours to reach the top and I think we probably pushed the bikes for a little under half of the distance.  But we did make it to the top. And then we had another think about where to go and what to do.  We opted to head down the other side, Old La Honda West, instead of along the bigger road running along the tops of the hills.  We were still aiming for Henry Cowell SP, though we thought it was going to be a push at this rate.  The ride down the other side was incredible, stunning scenery and sweeping, gently sloped winding roads.  We passed one car on this whole downhill which must have been 4 or 5 miles.  We stopped occasionally to take in the view across wooded peaks as far as the eye could see.

We had to climb another hill though not as big, which was slow going again, then another coast down though the road was slightly busier.  Near the bottom of this hill Tom came off his bike.  It was a pretty minor incident.  The bike came off the road, dropped the 6-8 inches down the verge into soft leafy matter and the front wheel stopped moving causing Tom to go over the handlebars, it wasn’t fast, it wasn’t spectacular and Tom got straight up uninjured and we set off again.  He said it felt like the bike was pulling to the left and to me looking from behind it looked like the front wheel was not in line with the back one.  We pulled over another couple of times to see if we could figure out what was up and if we could fix it, but couldn’t really fathom it.  We cycled along the flat towards Pescadero and rather than turn off towards Henry Cowell we decided to stop in Pescadero to have some lunch and regroup.

It was gone 1pm already, we’d been cycling for 6 hours mostly up hill and were pretty knackered and we weren’t even half way to Henry Cowell SP.  And now Tom’s bike was dodgy.  We decided we’d see about finding somewhere closer to stay and we started asking around.  The potter just outside the garden of the place we had lunch suggested Pigeon Point Youth Hostel, which the lady cyclist had also mentioned was an awesome spot to stop.  This was about 8 miles away and he even rung the hostel up to check they were open and had vacancies, which they did.  So we headed for the coast and cycled south.  Seeing the Pacific in the glorious sunshine was a tonic and I felt good riding again after the morning’s torture!  We spied the little lighthouse at Pigeon Point and gladly pulled into the car park just before 4pm.

It was a little odd to think about sleeping in separate dorms (single sex dorms) but we were happy to have arrived and the thought of a bed and wifi and kitchen were pretty exciting.  Plus the potter had tipped us off about the hostel’s hot tub so as we were checking in I asked about it.  Michael on the desk said that we could have a session for free (usually it’d be $8 a person) as we deserved it after our tough day of cycling.  We booked the sunset slot from 5:45-6:15 and he said that we could call by just after 5pm and if no one had booked the slot before us we could have it from then.  We had a quick stroll around and before we knew it it was 5pm so we headed for the hot tub.  This has to be one of the most spectacularly located hot tubs on the planet.  Its on the cliff top and all you can see is the ocean and the beach below.  And you get it to yourselves!  So Tom and I sat there in the hot tub, with seals or sea lions on the beach below us and watched water spouts from what must have been passing whales as the sun went down over the Pacific.  I don’t think it gets more idyllic than that.

We spent a nice evening chatting with the other guests in our little dorm block.  In particular Sue and Kristen we spoke to a lot and both of them ended up giving us food.  Sue gave us this delicious jalapeño and cheese bread which we had with our tinned chilli and Kristen sent us off the next day with 2 delicious breakfast muffins, a big bag of almonds, dried mango and 2 avocados.  Though we both got up early we set off late Tuesday morning as we’d decided just to head to Santa Cruz to the bike shop to figure out what was wrong with Tom’s bike and then decide what we would do from there.  Tuesday was the 3rd March and the 12th anniversary of my Dad’s death.  I always like to mark the day by doing something and I couldn’t think of anything more perfect than riding down Highway 1 in California, along the coast to Santa Cruz on a sunny day singing The Eagles (mostly in my head).