Day 24 – Lompoc to Ventura (88 miles /1228 total)

If today were not the second to last day of my ride I would say today sucked. But it is not, so I won’t say that.

I rode 88 miles today. There I was at the 68 mile mark, proud of myself that I had ridden so far away; I had ridden further than I had planned. (At the start of the day my thought was to try to get to the 60 mile mark as I had a 1,200 ft mountain to climb.) I was even at the gates of the state park.  But, as luck would have it I could not get it out of my head that Ventura was only 20 miles away. I know Ventura. Ventura is comfortable. I had drank in the brewery there a couple of times, body surfed in the ocean, visited clients there. So I decided to take Mark’s advice that he has handed me on a few occasions and drank some Gatorade and decided to keep going.

This was a tough call, mentally I was frustrated. Up until today I had ignored drivers and not reacted to their aggressions (i.e. swerving into my lane, letting their dogs bark at me, yelling whatever it is they yell, etc.). But today the camel’s back broke and I yelled back at a lady some unbloggable words after she made a comment to me about how I looked with everything attached to my bike. I should not have yelled, I have everything to loose and my only protection is a millimeter of sweat soaked spandex. Riding frustrated was not good. I needed to be focused.

Further, unlike running or swimming you can not bike until exhaustion as you always have to have something in the reserve tank to focus on the cars, trucks, trains, baby strollers, shredded tires, oil slicks and everything else in your way.

But, as I said, I rode on. I dropped to my lower handle bars, took off my sunglasses and rode. I told myself I was in a solo bike race. I reminded myself of Ice-T who always says that the mind has the power to control all.

By now, instead of talking to myself, I was yelling. Cars with open windows stared, patrol cars slowed down ready to make a move, little kids moved closer to their mom, smoking men took a deep drag, homeless men pushing carts filled with their life looked but kept pushing,  as a crazy, dirty, bearded man rode as hard as he could with everything he needed to not only live but also to be mobile strapped to his bike.

I’ll post the list of towns I passed and pictures tomorrow.

I got my third flat today and, as a safety measure, pulled into bob’s bikes in Goleta for a new tire and wheel tape. (They were awesome and helped me right away.) When I pulled in I must have looked a little ragged as they asked me if I wanted to clean up in their bathroom. I took them up on their offer.

Everyone, it seems, wants to know what the hell I’m doing. I’ve stopped stopping in areas with people as someone always seems to walk up to me.

I wonder, how tomorrow, my last day, will feel. Will I think about all the crazy memories, the rain, the people I’ve met? Whatever.

A special thank you goes out to Jason and Kelly who drove out of their way to take me out to dinner last night. They also came up with today’s trivia. It felt good to eat with two other people instead of asking for a table for one (I ask for a table so I can read the paper I usually bring with me).

Trivia:
Mark’s answer was completely wrong but because he was the only to answer, he wins. Congratulations Mark, this blog is for you.

Today’s trivia:
Lompoc is the city of _____ and _____ .

God, I’m tired. My legs are filled with lactic acid, my hand can’t even squeeze the plastic ketchup bottle, my knees feel good only when they are straight, my upper back muscles have a sharp pain that I only describe as a lot of bee stings all at once. I can’t wait to be home. 75 more miles. Redondo Beach, or bust, literally.

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