The dead of a grand old lady.

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Monterey, 07-11-2002.



After yesterday's two flats I straddle my steel grand mother, my cr*ppy old bicycle - remember? - with mounting fears and a strong ominous feeling in the front of my head.

I feel very convinced my relationship with this rusty old lady is fast coming to an premature end.

I still have a shimmer of hope I'll make it to my goal, that I'll cycle this old gal to San Fransisco and hand her over to some homeless person before boarding my plane back to my beloved Amsterdam.

Following the californian coast line I'm slowly entering the so-called Big Sur, an area of raw impressive beauty with spectacular coastal scenery, small coves full with seals, rotting kelp covered in countless little balk flies, from the famous kelp forests out at sea, small little hamlets that have a strong latin feel to it, low hills covered with oak trees and chaparral.

Out at sea I can see playfull dolfins, my mood is slowly getting better, the cycling is easy, the weather mild and sunny when suddenly my mental contemplation of the natural world around me is shattered with a loud explosion.....it is my back tyre...gone to smithereens....shredded to loose strands of worn out rubber.

I don't even need to get off my bike to know I'm in deep trouble. This happened to me twice yesterday...I'm fully aware that this pretty much the end of my cycling...I'll have to get on a bus to San Fransisco....None as yet unknown happy homeless person beaming big smiles at me because I've just given him a free bicycle.

However the whympsical Lady Fortuna is still on my side. Getting off my dear very dead Grand Mother a trucks pulls over, a slender young bloke comes out introducing himself as Charly The Truck Guy....wants to know if he can help me out....maybe bring me to a motel or bicycle shop.

We load my gear into the back of his truck, I'm unsure about my bike....itis obviously as dead as an old grand mother can be but I hate the idea of leaving her out here after she has brought me so far. After all we've been through together, the roads we travelled, the high passes we climbed and got across, the national parks we cycled through, all over and finished.

I realise I'm experiencing the dead of a grand old lady.

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