Day 11, somewhere outside Novato, CA to friend's house San Francisco, 47 miles

 I'm sitting here with a picture window view of the city on a somewhat overcast chilly morning. There are palm trees and in the back I am level with the tree tops. From the street (steep) the house looks tiny, but it extends back and down the hill on many levels. My friends are in the midst of landscaping the back yard that has a plum tree. 

But first, how I got here. 

I attempted this tour with a few downsides. Age 67, solo woman, with cataracts. Each day my decision was called into question. Mostly, though, everything worked out. Until . . . I crashed into the barricade at the end of one of the paths leaving Santa Rosa.

I got into a hurry and was frustrated with myself for taking the wrong path. So nothing ever changes: directionless. 

I was okay except for my left hand ring finger. It swelled up immediately. But I continued riding to Petaluma, where I finally got lunch and regrouped to tackle a few hills before stealth camping. The hills were hard with my compromised hand and the heat, but short-lived. The plan to camp, didn't work out. 

At 8 pm when the park closed the warden found me quietly reading/waiting and asked me to leave. I begged for an exception and told them I'd be gone super early. I showed them my finger. He was immediately worried. He asked if he could call EMT. I wasn't sure. I really really wanted to stay, get up, cycle into SF and finish the tour. 

I've never had an EMT called. But they arrived with their mobile unit and checked me out. They ended up cutting off my ring. They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital and I declined. They left and now it was after 9, getting dark. The warden held firm and made me leave. Without knowing the area, I didn't know where to go or what to do.

There was no time to waste as the sun would go down and I'd be riding in the dark with measley lights. Good enough for town commuting, but not in the middle of nowhere. 

Just then a car pulled into a driveway across from the county park. I drove down the farm lane and asked the two young guys if I could camp out in the yard for one night. They had no idea who I was or how I got there and said they were renters and I had to ask Annette.

Annette opened the door a crack and I tried to explain, but I'm sure I made no sense. I was desperate. She said I could camp in her yard, then, not to make things more difficult, I asked: What about a bathroom?

Then she said to the kid to take me to the bunny barn where there was a bathroom. Truthfully, he didn't know where that was, so he took me to the bunny barn and looked for it. He tried to explain to me the bunny barn, which had no bunnies but it seemed like a place where they stored furniture. The kid said it was a petting zoo. We found the bathroom and I went back to speak to Annette one more time, but there was no answer. No lights on at the house and it was getting to be 10 pm 

I could hear animals shuffling about while setting up. I took out of my bags the minimum, as I was for sure leaving early. 

After getting into my sleeping bag, there was suddenly a truck and a spotlight shone on me and a man demanding I leave. I finally convinced him to call Annette. They seemed to work it out, but he was very negative. He doubted I could get to SF, that I'd have to ride on the 101, that there was no good way to get there. I tried to assure him that I used Google cycling routes, that after 17 miles I'd hook up with my ACA maps. That I was pretty sure it was possible.

But what did I know? The day was ending up pretty badly.

He allowed me to stay, and I lay back down worried about everything. My finger didn't hurt, but I was concerned. The alarm went off at 5 a.m.

I got up, packed, and ate a little something out of my bag. Perhaps I was ridiculous for doing this trip by myself at my age. Maybe this was the stupidest idea ever. 

But once I got going, it felt right. 

Low and behold, there were bike lanes and bike paths and bike route signs 98% of the way. It was the easiest day ever. To be sure some steep ups, but fairly manageable. By breakfast I was in Ross at a super great place where I ordered an egg sandwich and a nice lady taped my finger after I told her my story. By noon I was almost to the bridge. Of course, the riding slowed down as I played tourist, taking snapshots etc. Also skies were suddenly overcast and the wind was at least 60 miles an hour. I had to hang onto the bike for dear life, while all around me were tourists on rented e bikes for the first time. Crazy. 

I choked up with emotions, thinking of my older brother Steve who had lived in San Francisco for a time at the outbreak of AIDS and helped start an advocacy group to extract money from the government for AIDS research, drugs, etc. He is a hero to me. I was also emotional because I'd done it. It was a hard ride and yesterday everything came into question. But I'd persevered and was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. 

I cleared the chaotic tourist area on the SF side, turned toward the Presidio (park) and a bike route down into the city. The streets were super steep, like every film I've seen with San Francisco as the backdrop. My phone said nearly 6 miles to my friend's house, but to allow over 1 hour. I stopped to take off my jacket as I got further from the water and chilly ocean breeze. Within minutes I was downtown and skies were blue and, though not hot, way warmer. I rode across, down, and then some ugly ups. I was doing it, using the Google lady in my ear. I made it to my friend's house by about 1 pm. Exhausted, grateful, alive, challenged, humbled. I ate the rest of my egg sandwich until my friends came home wondering why I was eating on their neighbor's stoop. I'd been waiting at the wrong house. 

Eleven days of riding and tens of thousands of feet climbing. I was done.