Luck and Double Bib Shorts
[ Day 8 – June 20, 2012 ]
I was up shortly after six, and though the sun was already out, I could scarcely tell by the air temperature. The cold made for a hasty morning: I ate breakfast, broke down camp, and readied my bicycle in short order, leaving the Lower Little Truckee Campground as empty as I’d found it.
Riding was still uncomfortable, but noticeably better. In what I thought was a pretty clever maneuver, I’d put on both sets of bib shorts, with the inner layer inside-out. The extra cushioning probably made me look like I was wearing a diaper, but looks were pretty low on my list of priorities. Every choice on the road was now filtered by a desire to reach the evening’s destination feeling better than I’d felt the day before. I rode with a business-like demeanor, noting steady progress and not much else.
Route 89 N
I took Highway 89 to East Quincy, where I found the town’s “Pioneer Park” just in time for lunch. A cluster of mostly empty picnic tables surrounded a large outdoor swimming pool, which was abuzz with the sights and sounds of youth in summer. I chose a table in the shade close to the bike rack and got working on lunch. In between mouthfuls of food, I laid my map across the table and attempted to plot out my afternoon. I wanted to reach a campground at Canyondam, thirty miles up the road, but I also wanted to let my body recover from those first days on the saddle. Even taking that caution into account, camping in Quincy seemed too easy. Unfortunately, there weren’t any camping options between there and Canyondam. I could either call it an early day or go all-in with the same kind of push that got me into trouble at the beginning of the trip. I contemplated hitchhiking again but didn’t want to test my luck two days in a row. I headed back to the main road to mull over my options.
As luck would have it, a better option soon rolled right by. A county transit bus (complete with bicycle rack) drove past me on Main Street. Its signage indicated that it was headed to Chester, a city even further along my route than Canyondam. Rural bus service—what marvelous luck!
Though I didn’t act quickly enough to catch that bus, I soon found a stop with a posted schedule. The next shuttle headed to Chester wouldn’t depart for another three hours, but my mind was already racing with ways to spend time off the bike. To think that a bus would take me 40 miles in the direction I wanted to go—for only four dollars! I felt like I’d won the lottery. With an unexpected surfeit of free time, I made my way back to the park where I’d had lunch. It was getting pretty hot out, and a three-dollar day pass to the Pioneer Pool seemed like a no-brainer.
My leisurely afternoon unfolded with a shower, sunbathing sandwiched between two dips in the pool, another shower, grocery shopping, and a visit to the laundromat, which was conveniently located within 100 feet of a bus stop. My bus pulled up as I stuffed the last of my now-clean clothes into my pack; it was a perfectly timed end to an afternoon of good fortune. I hustled over to the bus, loaded my bike onto the front rack, and boarded with a smile.
The easy, air-conditioned bus ride to Chester reaffirmed my decision not to bike. The scenery surrounding this winding, narrow portion of Highway 70 was truly gorgeous, but traffic was heavy and the shoulders weren’t wide enough to safely accommodate bicyclists. As the bus climbed the highway towards Chester, I looked across the river gorge and saw a beautiful railway trestle bathed in sunlight. Had I been on my bike, I could have stopped. I hated missing photo opportunities, but I reminded myself of the many good things I got to do because I chose another option. I got the opportunity to relax and enjoy civilized comfort. I got to ride on the bus rather than risk getting hit by it. Also, the bus ride also put me slightly ahead of schedule without the associated bodily wear and tear.
I took the shuttle to its final stop at the western end of Chester. From there it was an easy fourteen miles to Gurnsey Creek, where I’d camp for the night. As I rode through the soft evening light, I was thankful yet again for good fortune born out of circumstance, awareness, agency, and improvisation.
[ Daily Miles: 74 ] [ Total Miles: 424 ]