Day Twenty-eight
King City to Atascadero, 70 miles
Awake early, very sore from yesterday’s increased mileage and climbing. But no sense hanging around the Motel 6 in King City, so I headed out the door for probably my earliest start yet. Five miles in I reached the Wildhorse Cafe at Welby. I asked if I could bring my bike inside and the woman in charge said “if it makes you feel better”, in such a warm, matronly, dry tone that I knew breakfast would be good. And it was, but more fun was her targeted, pleasant, mildly caustic commentary on guests, her crew and humanity in general.
She clearly had her regulars whom she teased without mercy, but I got just warm affirmation, and a great breakfast.
The World’s Salad Bowl
I’ve been puzzling a bit about what I am riding through. My original ride plan was to be on Highway 1 along the Big Sur coast, from Carmel to Morro Rock. With Highway 1 impassable after the massive Regents landslide snipped the highway in two, I have only been thinking of my current route as an alternate, merely a contingency, and I have to admit I haven’t been paying as much attention to the place I’m in, except with a mind to get past it. Mistake.
The Salinas River runs south to north for about 175 miles, emptying into Monterey Bay. Except it doesn’t really empty into the bay. Most of the time now, only a trickle of a rive—if any—reaches the bay. Most of the water is impounded and used for Salinas Valley agriculture. If I’m eating salad, there’s a good chance that I eating Salinas River watershed water— farmers have senior water rights.
I saw a sign yesterday that said “Groundwater is OUR Water!” It turns out, world salad consumption not only takes all the surface water out of the river, it is also drinking from a massive underwater river and aquifer. Local pushback on this depletion has begun.
That sign was not next to a lettuce field.The sign was in the hills near Lake Nacimiento, up where people keep those second and third homes, and they want the water in the lake so they can play on their powerboats. What struck me is the disconnect between two very different populations in the Salinas Valley that seem to have nothing to do with each other.
On the one hand is the agriculture economy, which produces all it can and pushes it out into the world. Most of the money made in agriculture in this valley leaves the valley. Community investment in and between ag towns is absolutely minimal. The towns and roads are worn out.
Obviously the big operators—land ownership, machinery manufacturing, transportation logistics, etc. are taking their money elsewhere. And the farm workers, mostly Mexican labor, sends much of their earnings out of the community as well. Remittences to Mexico from the US, money sent from here to families back home, now tops $60 billion annually. Our Mexican farmers working here are also supporting the economies of their communities back in Mexico. They live frugally so their families can live at all.
So just like the river and aquifer here, dollars produced here are packaged and sent elsewhere, leaving little for local community development. There are efforts to get local Salinas Valley people to value and care for the Salinas Valley. One is a nonprofit called Ecologistics. Their motto is “Convene, Collaborate, Act”. They are starting where they are—to get people here to simply notice and talk to one another. Their headwind is all of the history and inertia of people only coming here to take something away, rather than build the local social soil.
Rutted roads
I started the day on Cattlemen Road, which was easily the worst road I have been on in hundreds or thousands of miles. Just a rutted washboard. And the wind picked up, right on the nose. The worst road, and the worst wind, at once, when my legs are creaking and complaining.
Escape Hatch
On Google Maps, a designated bike lane is indicated by a solid green line, and a road that is considered a bike route is indicated by green dots. In San Ardo, I missed my turn as Cattlemen Road veered to the west. Then I noticed on the map that there were green dots on the road I was mistakenly on, and they continued right onto US 101, which, when a limited access freeway, is closed to bikes. But this time, it seemed to be open to bikes, probably because the route that is not on US 101, the route I was reluctantly committed to, heads way east into steep hills before turning south towards my destination. I reached the onramp and looked for the sign reading “Pedestrians, Bicycles and Motor Powered Cycles Prohibited”. There wasn’t one. So I pulled on the US 101 happy to avoid a 5 mile detour through nowhere.
As soon as I cleared the on ramp, the shoulder pavement deteriorated into the worst shoulder pavement I have ever seen, even worse than Cattlemen Road. After about 12 miles of this, I gave up and exited the freeway.
Going west and up, up, up
Instead of the direct route south on terrible road, I choose the hilly, windy but better pavement up to Lake Nacimiento. But leaving the bad road, I don’t know, somehow my body was tricked into thinking it was feeling better. The next few hours of riding where just this side of idyllic, through rolling open country interspersed with copses of oak trees. The wind abated, the hot sun was dimmed by a thin cloud cover, and while not exactly comfortable, it was good riding.
Lake Nacimiento is formed by a earthen dam impound of the Nacimiento River. Riding over the dam, the water level looked low, below the level of the sluice gates at the dam. Speaking with a local man later, it was confirmed that the reservoir is only at 30% full, a record low. The climate is changing and people are concerned.
After hours of riding through not much civilization, it was, like the Summit community along the ridge line between San Jose and Santa Cruz, unexpected to find a whole town high and in the middle of, what seemed to me, nowhere. But Lake Nacimiento had a remote but full time population, with a nice grocery store, restaurants, post office. The guy who told me about the lake said he works year around at the grocery store, and lives in a neighborhood by the lake, but rarely sees his neighbors, as these are the second or third homes for many “residents”. I commented that in the store I stopped into in Carmel Valley, the number one sales item was liquor. He said it’s the same in Lake Nacimiento. He’s the store butcher. His meat department typically comes in third in sales, after #1 booze and #2 ice. They like their booze cold, apparently, and the third priority is steak.
Most people get to Lake Nacimiento from the south, from the cities and I got there from the north, from ag land. The road noticeably improved as I rode south, traffic increased, and I was passed several times by pickup trucks pulling the biggest power boats you could imagine sticking on a trailer and towing down the road. Still, as usual, I stuck to my part of the road, and drivers were quite courteous. I continue to feel quite safe with the notorious “California drivers”. Yeah, they are fast, but they pay attention.
Passing along the west edge of Paso Robles, I find another green dotted line on the map, right onto US 101. Google Maps had me on a 9+ mile loop around, and this US 101 shortcut takes 6 miles off that.
Getting to the freeway onramp, there is a discrete difference on the “prohibited” sign. Pedestrian are prohibited. “Motor-driven cycles” are prohibited. No mention of bicycles, so I guess that’s a yes. I take a photo of the sign in case I get pulled over, and swoop onto the freeway shoulder.
The road is super smooth, and the wind has stopped blowing in my face. I get in earlier than planned, wrapping up at 70 miles for the day rather than 76, and further down the road than I planned. Not bad.
Expensive weekends in wine country
Yesterday, I was in the King City Motel 6 for about $90, taxes included. In Paso Robles rates were between $300 and $3,500 per night! I get that it’s fall harvest/wine tasting season, but really? $3,500 for a night? I decide that if I am going to pay so much for a room, it should be further along the road than Paso Robles.
The next small city is Atascadero and I pay $300 for a room there. I have to admit, it’s a good hotel, and very comfy. I’m further along the road than I planned and the hotel serves breakfast.
