The coastline softened near Santa Barbara where palm trees, ocean air, and old Spanish architecture replaced the isolation of Big ...
By this point the ride had become routine — wake up, pedal south, watch the landscape slowly transform. Day 22 of my solo ...
Traffic thickened, the beaches widened, and the ride slowly transitioned from wilderness into the endless sprawl of Southern ...
Big Sur doesn't feel connected to the rest of California. It feels like the edge of something older. Day 20 of my solo bicycle journey ...
The Pacific rolled beside the highway while sea lions barked somewhere below the cliffs hidden by fog. Day 19 of my solo bicycle ...
Leaving San Francisco behind, the road hugged the coastline south beneath fog, cliffs, and cold Pacific air. Day 18 of my solo ...
Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge by bicycle feels less like transportation and more like a rite of passage. Day 17 of my solo ...