May I Sleep the Night in Marshall?

To Marshall: Lord have Mercy Upon My Legs

Highway 1 right after the bridge. You can take a few wrong turns, but in this place they are all good. Like the Asian chick who garnered her boyfriend and mother to help you. Man did you feel her. Man, did she help you. The type of help you would need is moral courage to climb mountainous roads, and they begin right away, right after the bridge.

A bicycle ride

I set out to ride my bicycle from San Francisco, California, to Portland Oregon. I intended to improve my mental and physical fitness, see many new things, and meet new and interesting people. I do not know, I do not know. I felt and saw, indeed. I remember San Francisco. I remember how I felt then. I remember the bridge and the Golden Gate Park. Perhaps it was at that point I wanted to go to Portugal. I could have done this at that time without spending more money than was spent. I could have gone to France. In France every woman is beautiful and very nice. In Portugal it is the same but they are even more exotic. I understand Germany is even better, Sweden and Finland even better than that, but that nothing comes close to Denmark (Denmark, Oregon?).

Last year I rode my bicycle in Spain and France and I smile about this journey and it gives me strength. At this very moment, I am trying to figure out whether I, in my optimism or delusion, really liked my trip. I know a man in prison (a general reference, so specific reference to anyone or any recent events; it is a commonly used metaphor) can say he happy to spite existence. Should I provide a forced account of my journey? Certainly, certain moments were indeed worthy. Perhaps the whole journey was worthy--perhaps it has been my last 11 days here in this city, the let down, the change, the anti-climax, perhaps these last days want to destroy the happiness I found on my journey. I do not know. I will post my images and try to say something. Those that comment negatively are already cursed and I have nothing to say to them. Those that wish me well will find eternal life with our lord and god.

June 20: San Francisco to Marshall


This bridge was constructed during a time I do not understand. No futures markets. States controlling currencies. Fascism. It was at this time this bridge was constructed.


Near this bridge there is a park entitled Golden Gate Park. From this park is presented this vantage point.








The oceans have little involvement.

The city contains sin and great bliss.

There were many motorists who made the shameful decision to drive their automobiles in California.


It is a strong and powerful bridge.
The strength of the bridge is formidable.

From the bridge there is another city, Sausalito, California. It seemed overwhelmingly pleasant and presented itself somewhat similarly to aspects of the Mediterranean ocean in France.
A man with a folding bike presented himself near my folding bike.

Quickly, I began to see different things.

Soon, I felt strongly that my journey would change.

Technical and other aspects of touring

The mind can overcome all factors of touring, whether technical, physical, or geographical. I know Dr. Moraline did break ribs, bicycle, and head in one wreck, but I believe he overcame this, and slept deeply with his concussion. I imagine he learned the significance of brake pads and proper brake cable adjustment, just as I learned the importance of hub adjustment (see below). What may change, due to these technical factors (when contrasted against expectations for the absence of these technical factors), is distance covered, and this can be of consequence for shelter or the meeting of a strict itinerary. Upon my return I discovered my rear hub exhibited the characteristics of a pepper grinder. This was somewhat noticable as it would stutter and attempt to seize on certain descents or flat stretches. I attributed the slowness of the climbing to myself alone, because climbing is too significant to attribute to anything but one's will. The second technical factor encountered was a cleat which had slipped all the way to the bottom of my right shoe, due to improper tightening on my part. After 5 days of strange left knee pain (due to one leg's being effectively shorter than the other by 1/2 inch), I discovered the technical factor and made adjustments.

Mileage could have been increased if these technical factors had not existed, but then again the nature of the experience would have been transformed. Longer saddle time due to slower speeds generated additional phenomena, which was all overcome by a combination of intense conversations with trees and oceans and mountains, 'road songs,' and frequent breaks to snap photos. During the narratives and photographic essays to follow, I will limit references to technical factors. There are far less fit riders who would have covered significantly greater distance due to their mental stamina, and conversely stronger riders who would not tour at all due to the prospect of a 50 pound rig, uncertainty, and isolation.

Purity in footracing

It may seem too obvious that I should dedicate myself to running and footracing. Should I abandon all women and all other distractions? Now is perhaps the time. There is a 10 mile race in early September, but this morning I did not race a 4 mile footrace at the King's forest due to carnal distractions. Purity requires I dedicate myself to running. The King's forest is a holy place. I returned to it last night, wiping insects from my eyes and swallowing them into my lungs. My journey begins and ends here every day. What I learned, when in the clouds of Northern California, ascending to Klamath, was that I could not see the King's forest.