3. Salinas to Jolon, CA, USA

Today's route was a mashup of the Sea Otter Classic road route and AIDS/LifeCycle day 3. Last year, I bicycled both with Zoe Cheng, my dear friend who died after crashing on a tricky descent just three months ago, on January 15, 2024.

All day in my heart I felt Zoe's easy laughter, ready love, fierce optimism, kooky dancing, thirst for adventure, and personal motto: Now, not later.

I hope I'm doing you proud, Zoe. I miss you so much and keep looking for you out here.

With Zoe on my mind, I pedaled through vineyards before I realized my skin was starting to burn. So I donned the beautiful hanky Perla gifted me for my journeys and thought how lucky I am to have so many good friends who look after me.

My day culminated in a long, steep climb known as Quadbuster. Indeed, my thighs were on fire by the end. A fast descent through a dusky Fort Hunter Liggett, replete with deer and a rainbow, deposited me at my night's lodgings: a primitive campground on the Army base.

About 30 seemingly abandoned RVs greeted me. A sign warned of rattlesnakes. The constant report of gunfire sputtered from a firing range a half mile away. I saw only one person off in the distance, but I felt like I was being watched.

I was a little weirded out. But with no other lodging nearby, I pitched my tent, ate part 2 of me lunch burrito, washed up, and fell asleep.

Then, at about 3 am, I heard something creeping around my tent. Something big. Something with two legs. A turkey? A man? In the dark, can you even tell the difference?

For about 15 minutes, whatever It was stood right outside my tent, not moving. I lay awake, eyes wide open, barely breathing, with every hair on my body standing on end.

Meanwhile, my only weapon, the knife on my Leatherman tool, slept soundly in a bag on my bicycle. Outside my tent. Right about where It was presently breathing.

Well, I figured. I can't do a damn thing about this situation. If it's a person, it's probably a dude, likely armed, and my only chance at survival would be if we agreed to leg-wrestle. Which is unlikely.

But if it's a turkey, then there's no problem.

I chose to believe it was a turkey, and promptly fell back asleep. When I awoke at 7 am, I was just as surprised that I had woken up as I was that I had fallen asleep.

With nary a soul around, I packed up quickly, ate a tortilla with peanut butter, and scooted out, thinking about just how important it is to fear the right things.

Distance: 69.43 miles / 111.74 km

Climbing: 2,267 ft / 689 km

Totals: 200 mi / 322 km; 7,677 ft / 2340 m

Sleep Spot: Fort Hunter Liggett Campground

Route: