Leading up to the start had (has) been a little dramatic.
A couple weeks ago, Casey had a minor skiing accident, possibly leading to a torn MCL. I received a text saying “[I] can barely walk...If I just partially tore my MCL there’s a really good chance it’ll heal before we leave.. but if it’s anything else the chances are pretty slim.”
After some X-rays/MRIs, waiting days for the results, and me trying to reconstruct my mindset of doing a solo ride, she received the news that nothing was broken or torn and she can continue the ride. After some PT and rest, she was thankfully back to normal.
Three days before the trip started, a surprise broken back spoke during a test ride had me calling a number of bike shops on a Saturday, all unsure if they could fix in such a short turnaround (all shops close on Sunday and we leave Tuesday morning). I texted my local bike mechanic who had me bring in my wheels on Sunday, he replaced all spokes for free, and told me to just "do something good for someone else down the line". I'm lucky to know such wonderful people.
Meanwhile, the day before our flight, Casey’s panniers hadn’t arrived because the mail service doesn’t deliver to PO boxes (she also lives in the middle of nowhere Colorado), so she had to drive to Denver to pick them up the day before the flight, not getting a chance to test them out to see if they fit.
After weeks of planning and smoothing out the mishaps, we finally made it to San Diego. Uri and I assembled our bikes at the airport, and we drove through the gorgeous city streets that were lined with palm trees and beautiful stucco houses with cacti and flowering succulents.
We stayed at Samsun hostel in Ocean Beach, just a few minutes walking distance from the Pacific Ocean. The hostel was this super groovy, rainbow building with cute hangouts, charming lights, and wall murals. We met a traveler/photographer named Aellis and a motorcycle enthusiast from Dublin named Oliver.
The rest of the day was spent wandering the streets, fixing up our bikes, eating amazing noodles at OB Noodles, and walking on the beach during sunset. We discovered that San Diego had all the California stereotypes: dudes on skateboards and bikes carrying giant surfboards, periodic aromas of sunscreen and weed, dirty hippies with dreadlocks wearing tie dye and selling homemade jewelry, tie dye shirts, tarot card readings, and healing crystals, gas prices above $5.00, and old Volkswagen vans everywhere.
Day 0 was a success.
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