Day 10 Fort Bragg - Manchester Beach

Poor cell coverage and no wifi means you are reading this tomorrow, or later. Today was a recovery day. We strolled a couple miles from the state park unto Fort Bragg and found a cycle shop open! Fort Bragg Cyclery is a cyclist's bike shop. The kind of place I would like to own. The owner is also the mechanic and he knows his stuff. He fixed Rhonda's front derailer, replaced her worn brake pads (remember yesterday's 12 mile descent?), and replaced her second tire. For kicks he adjusted my front derailer and cleaned both chains. While that was going on the shop suggested a fine breakfast locale and told us where the laundramat was located (getting short on clean cycle shorts). Before the clothes were dry the cycle shop called and said all was done. I can't believe that dropped all other work to care for us. When in Fort Bragg, visit the Cyclery shop! 

It was nearing 1p when we left town and planned for an easy 40 mile ride. No big hills? Right...

We gained over 2000 feet again; the same 200 over and over. At each creek crossing the highway took sweeping curves from the top of the bench dropping fast to sea level. There are no shoulders of course, so with traffic we too must take the sharp turns at slow speeds(good thing Rhonda got new brake pads). Then it was the same elevation gain, only steeper. Most of these were just plain hard, but doable. Until we came to a Elk creek. But before we talk about gravity being the law, let me say something about the village of Elk. Elk, CA is a clean, quaint, welcoming wide spot in the road. The grocery store and deli had all you really need. We were 13 miles from camp so we had the deli make us some awesome sandwiches which we packed away for later.  Behind Elk, the hillsides reminded me of Council and Cascade, ID, and I'm sure Wapiti inhabited them. 

Just south of Elk is Elk Creek and the highway drops around three sweeping curves, 300 feet to sea level. And then it gains all those and more in about 1/2 the distance. It was the hardest hill I've ever climbed. I'd only come back again just to see Mark Bertram climb it in the big chain ring. It was all mental effort. One car meeting us on our way up stuck their head out the window and whooped and hollered encouragement to us, and that's when I stopped. I lost concentration and I couldn't get my legs to shut up. After a few minutes breather I jumped back on and tried to get the pedals to turn. I was climbing ever so slowly, but with only one foot clipped in its peddle. Then this wall appeared! A black slab of asphalt that stood straight up and was mistakenly called the road bed. Just then I started weaving and a car came up behind me and the hill won! No way was I going to spin myself up that switchback, so I called my manhood into question as I WALKED the bike around the corner. Of course Rhonda motored right on up and stopped around the corner as it leveled out to a normal 10% grade. Without word I mounted the bike and spun it up the remainder of the hill. For the next 5 miles I didn't say a word.  

Manchester beach soon called us in. The state park is really primitive (meaning no showers and only pit toilets), so we are camped down the road at a KOA. After eating our awesome sandwiches from Elk and all the hot water you need for a shower we are totally relaxed and recovering for tomorrow. 

We are less than 150 miles from San Francisco and I'm just a little impressed how remote the coastal highway is. Not much civilization between us and the Bay Area. Perfect.