Distance: 66.77 miles
The Vallejo to San Francisco awaits. I left Davis with a calm day ahead. Done were the mountains, the deserts, the canyons, the plains, the woods, and the beaches. All that was left was some urban bike trails, rural county roads, and casual city riding.
I stopped at a fruit stand and had a basket of fresh strawberries for lunch. I was in no hurry to finish the last day. Using only my handwritten list of directions, I managed to successfully navigate through areas that were mostly connected with major highways and interstates.
The sorry excuse for a tire finally quit. The tube inside was no longer holding air and it looked like it had been put through a garbage disposal. Not a single section of the outter rubber remained intact so I had been riding on protective layers and carcass for hundreds of miles. I stopped outside of Vallejo to change it out for the replacement I had purchased in Fallon a few days ago.
The bike felt sturdy once again now that it had a solid tire to kick around. The last few miles through Vallejo sent me up some incredibly steep roads that were not too long. Once on Georgia Street I was in sight of the ferry building.
Here is where we use our imaginations. I rolled up to the ferry, paid my fare, and set off for San Francisco.
Truth is, this part isnt as magical as it was supposed to be. I rolled up, walked inside, and faced a sign that told me I was too late. I had missed the long awaited ferry ride by one hour. The alternative was to wait for the bus that would take my from there to the other ferry building, effectively covering the same route but on land. I had two bagels while I waited for the bus. Once it came by, I stuffed the bike in the large storage compartment on the belly and jumped inside. 45 minutes later I was in the city. I paid my fare and set off to meet up with my good friend Pierre and his girlfriend Sala. It would be pointless to head to the Golden Gate Bridge now since the sun was setting and the trademark fog had blanketed the city.
I met up with them in a cafe on Fillmore street and we spent the night laughing and talking about just about everything.
I was done. I had made it across the country to San Francisco, CA. Atlantic to Pacific. It is unreal. Now I can go from tourer to tourist.
Thanks to Road America for their donation.