Arnold's House

We began the morning with a continuation of the fine descending we'd had the night before. Always nice to wake up on a downhill. Some stiff little uphills tossed in as well, but fine riding. Had our first brief stop in Somerset for a porta-potty evacuation and then pedaled again. Contended with a real stiff climb that looked just like the California I remembered – oaks and a guard rail and the twist of the road and the smell in the air and the pitch of the climb – we were back. We arrived in Placerville and checked out a bike shop and then the grocery store before venturing into the heart of the downtown. Placerville was another cool stop. Narrow streets to a downtown with character and a bustling farmer's market. We always seem to miss the local happenings. Oh... fiddle festival next week, strawberry faire when we need to make miles, bluegrass in a month. Not this morning. The timing was great and so were the circumstances. Good morning chocolate croissant.

Nate and Kevin had gone to a diner called Mel's so we went a few blocks further on and found them finished with breakfast. We began riding again, exited Placerville, and Jordan, Jeremy, and I stopped at another bike shop. Nate and Kevin didn't, and in a fairly anti-climactic fashion, that was the last we saw of them. Good things to you both gentleman. Kept riding and arrived in Folsom. The culture shock was on. You expect me to pee inside? Preposterous. We saw more cars in the span of a few minutes than we probably witnessed the entire trip. Started riding a bike path and met a kind fellow cyclist who tried to find us a place to stay for the evening. He was on the phone for a few minutes with no results. His friends seemed to be out riding and his wife wasn't having any of it, so we said thank you and parted ways. Bike path was cool, followed the American River all the way to Sacramento. There were tons of people floating down on tubes, or kayaks, or other watercraft. I had a feeling we might encounter some other generosity and we pressed on into stiff wind toward our fine state's capitol.

Bike paths, while separated from cars, can be a dangerous proposition. There were a number of yahoos and rented cruisers but we kept the bikes upright. Took a food break at a picnic table and watched all the people we passed show up and continue on. We spoke to a gentleman about the tour and of him doing something similar with his sons. He was an older guy but we suggested a supported ride. Maybe he's on his way to living the dream.

Still on the path with the miles ticking away, we met Joey and Rich. We traded a few words and they mentioned something about finding a place to stay. At first we were unsure about where the scenario was headed, but at the very least somebody else was breaking the wind, and that was just fine. It turns out they're a pair of awesome dudes. We followed for the remainder of the path, then rode through Sacramento State, and then to Rich's backyard where we were offered a place to stay. The generosity never ceases. Joey's wife Diane brought over pizzas from a place called Zelda's and we had a couple of beers and splashed around in the pool. Rich builds pools for a living and his specialty is the saline variety. Apparently they produce their own chlorine and I can personally vouch for the softer sensation on the skin. We talked about all kinds of stuff and had a grand time in a couple of deck chairs. Bicycling has been the catalyst to meeting a lot of different people outside our usual fish bowl. This was another instance of meeting older guys who still ride hard. Inspiring.

Diane gave Jordan the skinny on all manner of downtown establishments and Joey hopped on the saddle and gave us a personal tour of the bars and eateries that might be worth stopping by. He also showed us the city's bike kitchen, a place where people can learn about bike maintenance and perform repairs themselves. A few blocks back track and we chose the Rubicon Brewery as our first stop. Took a picture and Joey rode off. I never hear much about Sacramento, probably overshadowed by San Francisco, but it was pretty cool. Restored Victorians on the periphery, all kinds of bustling restaurants in the downtown, trees lining the streets and incredible hospitality. Not bad. We agreed it was time for dessert and found a frozen yogurt joint. Sat outside and watched a bunch of dressed up girls strutting their stuff in heels and party clothes. Even after being on the road, it wasn't enticing. Seemed false. Then a non-bum bum showed up and asked us for some money. The guy was wearing sandals, shorts, a tee shirt and appeared well-groomed.

“You're asking me for money? Why don't you give us some money?” “I'm just looking to get something to eat man.” “What are you talking about? Look at that watch.” “Yeah, well look at those bikes and you just bought yogurt.” “Yeah, we rode from Virginia. We need this yogurt. We're hungry.” “Your bikes from Virginia?” “We're the ones who're homeless. We don't have any extra money.” “Yeah, that's aways.” “Damn straight.”

It felt good to turn the tables and he wandered off to try his scam on somebody else. The guy honestly looked like a laid-off attorney dressing down. We rode back to Rich's backyard, laid out the sleeping bags and pads, conked out. Goodnight Sacramento.

Omo Ranch.

Bike shop, Placerville.

Thanks to Joey and Rich. Sorry we forgot to get a picture with you Rich. You do a fine pool.