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 ...
The coastline slowly gave way to rolling farmland and small inland towns as Northern California began to change shape. Day 16 ...
The road twisted toward the Pacific again where cliffs dropped into the ocean and the wind carried the smell of saltwater for miles.