The Finale @ San Francisco
Today could be our final day of the road trip. All we had to do was ride an estimated 483 miles south and we'd be home. After 17 nights and 18 days on the road we were giddy at the idea of returning to a warm, already made bed and being reunited with our cat Kovu. Don't get us wrong we loved the adventure, and our 3" sleeping pads are much more comfortable than they sound, but there's truly no place like home.
We woke up and immediately packed the tent. In order to save time we did breakfast on the road, stopping at a coffee shop for a mediocre breakfast sandwich and coffee that attempted to cover up its lack of flavor with a heavy amount of sweetener. Back on the road, we spotted a "San Francisco: 360 miles" sign and cheered at each distance update – slowly chipping away at the number. We stopped along the coast to take bike glamour shot:
Then we looked up a place for lunch. Adam found a food truck called South G Kitchen. It might have been our best food of the trip. Helen ordered a salad that was based in shoe string fried sweet potatoes and fresh greens from a nearby farm. Adam ordered black garlic parmesan fries and a smash burger. Maybe some prize-winning author could find the words to describe this smash burger, but these authors cannot. It was the holy grail of smash burgers. It was the smash burger that will trick Adam into ordering smash burgers in the future only to be disappointed that they will never measure up to his memory of this heavenly burger. More time will pass and Adam will start to doubt whether he even likes smash burgers. He'll start to doubt if that food truck, in an industrial part of Arcata, nestled behind a brewery, ever even existed.
Recharged and happy with our meal, we continued on. We took a slight detour through the Avenue of the Giants, a 31-mile forest road lined with massive redwoods.
On our way through, Helen wanted to stop at the "Shrine Drive Thru Tree" (a redwood that you can drive through). When we got to the tree Helen parked her bike and hopped on the back of Adam's so that we only had to pay for one vehicle. We pulled up to the window and a man with a "Make America Great Again" hat greeted us. This should have been our first red flag. But motorcycles can't go in reverse, so we handed the man $10 and kept going. We were confronted with a row of cars waiting to drive through the tree. Helen began to panic on the back of the bike. Adam giggled maniacally as the truth dawned on him. We were stuck in a tourist trap. We just handed $10 to the republican party. There was no escape and the only way out was through.
There were several families ahead of us, with each car one person would get out, take pictures and videos as their car drove through the tree, in several poses. Helen was in tears beneath her helmet; a combination of frustration and disappointment in herself for thinking this was a good idea. This tree was not what we thought, worst of all it was a dead tree; just a large stump that had been hollowed out by lightning. After what felt like an eternity it was finally our turn. Take our time we did not. We drove straight through the tree, skipping the picture and went through the exit back to Helen's bike eager to get back on the road; sad that the natural beauty of the Avenue of the Giants could contain such a money-grabbing monstrosity.
We continued down the Redwood Highway to San Francisco. Spirits surprisingly high as redwoods gave way to California wine county. The scenery around us was full of rolling hills, dry grass, and the occasional rows of curated grape vines that would one day be transformed into delicious Cabernet Sauvignons, Zinfandels, and Pinot Noirs. We came back into the city over the golden gate bridge lit up at night, every bit as beautiful as we remember. Caught up in the triumph of the moment and having seen one too many climactic movie kisses, Helen made Adam stop to take one last picture:
We wended our way across San Francisco, which still has its familiar fog blanket. We parked our bikes and giggled with joy as we walked shakily into our apartment. After 498 miles we were finally home – and it was sweet.
