Well, I'm back. Back from my ten day hiatus in a silent Vipassana meditation retreat. There are so many words that spent exactly 10 days bubbling and percolating up inside of me that I couldn't say for so long...and I'm going to wait just a little bit longer to say them. The experience was equal parts insanely difficult, peaceful, lonely, exhausting, energizing, and wonderful. I want to take my experience and work it into an essay, so stay tuned if you're curious about it.
After the retreat ended, I reunited with Ben in San Francisco. He had been having a grand ol time, biking all the way up to Sacramento to visit his friend Laura, as well as just enjoying the beautiful city of San Francisco where we are now both convinced we want to live. It's so dang wonderful. Made more wonderful, of course, by our incredible host, Sarah Newsham. She made us feel so at home in her Richmond apartment that we literally started referring to it as "home."
Leaving San Francisco was sad, but after we filled our bellies with as much hip food, coffee and treats as we had room for, it was time to get back on the road. After 10 days of sitting on my bum and meditating for eleven hours a day and performing no bicycle-related exercises whatsoever, I was nervous about the current state of my muscles. Part of the Vipassana meditation course is gaining an experiential awareness of "Anitcha," or "Everything Changes." Unfortunately, that also applies to butt callouses. Let the butt-hardening begin.
Yesterday we biked from Sarah's apartment in San Francisco to the San Gregorio State Beach--about 40 miles. I was a bit nervous about getting back on Hwy 1, especially after how gnarly it had been north of S.F. But we were both pleasantly surprised by how gloriously flat the 40 miles were. The shoulder was nice and wide, and traffic was minimal. Since leaving San Francisco a thick, encompassing ceiling of fog hunkered in and stayed with us for the rest of the day. It made everything feel eery, yet cozier somehow.
It was starting to get dark when we reached the San Gregorio S.B., and with no other towns around we decided to camp there. It didn't have much to offer, besides a stunning yet abrupt cliff lookout, and beach access next to a dirty, polluted lagoon. But Ben and I spotted a tree with low sprawling branches that formed the perfect nook, just big enough for us and our little tent. We slept underneath dense blanket of fog and the bit of faint moonglow that just managed to make it through.
Today we had another easygoing day, another 40 miles to Santa Cruz. Our friend Dan Kirkwood is here, staying with another friend John, so we are spending the night in the backyard of his cozy home. About 10 miles north of Santa Cruz we stopped by an adorable fruit stand/coffee shop/artisan general store to have lunch. We talked with a woman working there a while, and she explained to us the concept of "Slow Coast:" A 50 mile stretch of land south of S.F. and north of Santa Cruz, where much of the coastal land has been saved from over-development, and many of the towns feel preserved from an older, simpler time. Of course, anything with the word "slow" in it attracts Ben and myself immediately, being the slow travelers that we are. We bought two Slow Coast stickers. Check out the scene here: www.slowcoast.org.
After being back on the bike for two days, I can honestly say the meditation retreat did me good. I feel like it gave me several valuable tools that are directly applicable to everyday life, but especially bike touring. Take care of yourself, and always do the best you can. Maintain an equanimous mind. Enjoy the present moment for what it is, because it will change. Don't worry too much about the hard, painful stuff, because they will fade away eventually (ahem, hills!). Don't get too attached to the really good stuff, but it will pass too. Just enjoy each moment for what it is. Don't mourn the loss of your hard-earned butt callouses and thick thigh muscles, they'll be back eventually. And go slow :). Cheers!
After the retreat ended, I reunited with Ben in San Francisco. He had been having a grand ol time, biking all the way up to Sacramento to visit his friend Laura, as well as just enjoying the beautiful city of San Francisco where we are now both convinced we want to live. It's so dang wonderful. Made more wonderful, of course, by our incredible host, Sarah Newsham. She made us feel so at home in her Richmond apartment that we literally started referring to it as "home."
Leaving San Francisco was sad, but after we filled our bellies with as much hip food, coffee and treats as we had room for, it was time to get back on the road. After 10 days of sitting on my bum and meditating for eleven hours a day and performing no bicycle-related exercises whatsoever, I was nervous about the current state of my muscles. Part of the Vipassana meditation course is gaining an experiential awareness of "Anitcha," or "Everything Changes." Unfortunately, that also applies to butt callouses. Let the butt-hardening begin.
Yesterday we biked from Sarah's apartment in San Francisco to the San Gregorio State Beach--about 40 miles. I was a bit nervous about getting back on Hwy 1, especially after how gnarly it had been north of S.F. But we were both pleasantly surprised by how gloriously flat the 40 miles were. The shoulder was nice and wide, and traffic was minimal. Since leaving San Francisco a thick, encompassing ceiling of fog hunkered in and stayed with us for the rest of the day. It made everything feel eery, yet cozier somehow.
It was starting to get dark when we reached the San Gregorio S.B., and with no other towns around we decided to camp there. It didn't have much to offer, besides a stunning yet abrupt cliff lookout, and beach access next to a dirty, polluted lagoon. But Ben and I spotted a tree with low sprawling branches that formed the perfect nook, just big enough for us and our little tent. We slept underneath dense blanket of fog and the bit of faint moonglow that just managed to make it through.
Today we had another easygoing day, another 40 miles to Santa Cruz. Our friend Dan Kirkwood is here, staying with another friend John, so we are spending the night in the backyard of his cozy home. About 10 miles north of Santa Cruz we stopped by an adorable fruit stand/coffee shop/artisan general store to have lunch. We talked with a woman working there a while, and she explained to us the concept of "Slow Coast:" A 50 mile stretch of land south of S.F. and north of Santa Cruz, where much of the coastal land has been saved from over-development, and many of the towns feel preserved from an older, simpler time. Of course, anything with the word "slow" in it attracts Ben and myself immediately, being the slow travelers that we are. We bought two Slow Coast stickers. Check out the scene here: www.slowcoast.org.
After being back on the bike for two days, I can honestly say the meditation retreat did me good. I feel like it gave me several valuable tools that are directly applicable to everyday life, but especially bike touring. Take care of yourself, and always do the best you can. Maintain an equanimous mind. Enjoy the present moment for what it is, because it will change. Don't worry too much about the hard, painful stuff, because they will fade away eventually (ahem, hills!). Don't get too attached to the really good stuff, but it will pass too. Just enjoy each moment for what it is. Don't mourn the loss of your hard-earned butt callouses and thick thigh muscles, they'll be back eventually. And go slow :). Cheers!
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