Bodega Dunes State Park to San Francisco!

We got off to a slow, pleasant start on the last day of my bike trip. We ate breakfast, then pedaled less than ten miles down the road before stopping for coffee (or coffee cake in my case...I'm still not much of a coffee drinker). We met two fascinating women on their way home from the Burning Man festival and ended up staying there for over an hour before heading South again.

It was a great day to ride, with a strong north wind pushing us along. At one point I found myself in "beast mode" and flew down the road for perhaps ten miles,with Kerry in tow...Then I realized that I had blasted right past an important turn about seven miles ago, and led the other three guys astray. Fortunately, the guys weren't upset. We didn't exactly have to back track...We rejoined the route six miles later about two miles past the turn I missed...but it was close enough to back tracking that we had to turn into the wind. Once we got back on course, we picked up the tailwind again and cruised into the outskirts of the San Francisco Bay metropolitan area.

It started imperceptibly about 25 miles north of downtown. We just rolled into what seemed like any other small town along the coast. But instead of dissolving back into empty hills after a three blocks, stop lights started to appear and the buildings started to grow. We had to slow down and start choosing our route carefully to avoid traffic.

It seems like I ought to go on about the grand emotions I felt or pontificate about the great things I learned. But I didn't feel emotional as I approached the city. I just pedaled along the same way I had for the last five weeks, knowing that eventually I'd get where I was going.

Soon enough the Golden Gate bridge appeared, and we made our way up to it. As I crossed it, I began to realize that a rather long bike ride was about to end. I let the other three guys pull away from me for the first time in four days and went slowly. I watched all the people go by, commuting back home from work. I looked down at the water, out at the sun, and over to the city. I stopped and took a picture of the bridge. A well shaved cyclist going the other way with sharp bike clothes looked at my shaggy beard, greasy vest, torn shorts and duck taped saddle bags. He smiled and said "Welcome to the city." The word "welcome" never meant so much to me before.

When I finally arrived at the other side of the bridge, Kerry and Brandon were hurriedly plotting the rest of their route on their phones. I'd forgotten that they still needed to get to Oakland that night, and the sun was setting soon. Laith and I, on the other hand, planned to stay with a friend of mine from Cornell who lived just a short distance away. As we said our goodbyes, Aaron arrived on his bicycle and Laith snapped a picture:

Meeting Aaron at the end of the ride.

Laith and I followed Aaron to his apartment, packed our bikes in and then showered. My boxes of clean clothes and school supplies had already arrived in the city, and Aaron was going to give me a ride to campus. For the first time in over a month, I knew that after this shower I would actually stay clean. I had made it.

This is the view from Aaron's apartment, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

There will be one more post about this trip tomorrow, an epilogue of sorts about my move into Stanford and some overarching numbers and thoughts on the journey. I hope you've enjoyed reading...I wrote a lot of words!